Stories 71-80

Story 71

Although Phileas had a wonderful time in Chicago it was time for him to move on to his last stop in America, which was New York City. Phileas was so excited about going to New York as it is nicknamed the 'City of Dreams', but to get there he had to jump onto another train. While Phileas is travelling in the train he left you this story all about a Little Train...

The Little Engine That Could

by Watty Piper

A little steam engine had a long train of cars to pull.
She went along very well till she came to a steep hill. But then, no matter how hard she tried, she could not move the long train of cars.
She pulled and she pulled. She puffed and she puffed. She backed and started off again. Choo! Choo!
But no! the cars would not go up the hill.
At last she left the train and started up the track alone. Do you think she had stopped working? No, indeed! She was going for help.
"Surely I can find someone to help me," she thought.
Over the hill and up the track went the little steam engine. Choo, choo! Choo, choo! Choo, choo! Choo!
Pretty soon she saw a big steam engine standing on a side track. He looked very big and strong. Running alongside, she looked up and said:
"Will you help me over the hill with my train of cars? It is so long and heavy I can't get it over."
The big steam engine looked down at the little steam engine. The he said:
"Don't you see that I am through my day's work? I have been rubbed and scoured ready for my next run. No, I cannot help you,"
The little steam engine was sorry, but she went on, Choo, choo! Choo, choo! Choo, choo! Choo, choo!
Soon she came to a second big steam engine standing on a side track. He was puffing and puffing, as if he were tired.
"That big steam engine may help me," thought the little steam engine. She ran alongside and asked:
"Will you help me bring my train of cars over the hill? It is so long and so heavy that I can't get it over."
The second big steam engine answered:
"I have just come in from a long, long run. Don't you see how tired I am? Can't you get some other engine to help you this time?
"I'll try," said the little steam engine, and off she went. Choo, choo! Choo, choo! Choo, choo!
After a while she came to a little steam engine just like herself. She ran alongside and said:
"Will you help me over the hill with my train of cars? It is so long and so heavy that I can't get it over."
"Yes, indeed!" said this little steam engine. "I'll be glad to help you, if I can."
So the little steam engines started back to where the train of cars had been standing. Both little steam engines went to the head of the train, one behind the other.
Puff, puff! Chug, choo! Off they started!
Slowly the cars began to move. Slowly they climbed the steep hill. As they climbed, each little steam engine began to sing:
"I-think-I-can! I-think-I-can! I-think-I-can! I-think-I-can! I-think-I-can! I-think-I-can! I think I can - I think I can - I think I can I think I can--"
And they did! Very soon they were over the hill and going down the other side.
Now they were on the plain again; and the little steam engine could pull her train herself. So she thanked the little engine who had come to help her, and said good-by.
And she went merrily on her way, singing:
"I-thought-I-could! I-thought-I-could! I-thought-I-could! I-thought-I-could! I thought i could - I thought I could - I thought I could - I thought I could - I thought I could - I thought I could I thought I could --"
THE END
Story can be found at: http://ah_coo.tripod.com/engine_that_could.htm

Story 72

Phileas has now arrived in the city where dreams happen...New York! But he is quite nervous after the story he heard on the train from a kind old man, and he wanted to share it with you today...

Ghost on the Tracks

The train rumbled around him as he adjusted the throttle. The night shift was always the toughest, in the engineer's mind. He had rumbled through Timpas a few minutes ago and was on his way to Thatcher. Not a bad stretch of road, and there was no better train in the entire Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe Railroad.
He stretched a bit and yawned, trying to stay alert. And then he gasped. The lights had picked up the figure of a beautiful woman with long red-gold hair and wonderful blue eyes standing near the tracks. Too near! He sounded his horn to warn her away. And then he realized that the light was shining right through her. She was a ghost!
She stepped into the center of the track, laughing and beautiful. She disappeared seconds before the train rushed through her. And then she was there, in the engine cab next to him. The scent of roses filled the air. He stared at the ghostly vision, bewitched by her beauty. With an enticing smile, she wrapped ghostly arms about his neck and kissed him. And was gone.
Dazed (and disappointed!), the engineer finished the run to Thatcher in a trance, completely forgetting to stop at the station. The fireman had to pour water on his head to snap him out of it.
The engineer decided not to tell anyone about the ghost, fearing for his job. But he was plagued by curiousity. Finally, he confided the story to a close friend who was a fellow engineer. To his surprise, the friend had heard about the ghost before. The ghost's appearance on the train was by no means uncommon. No one knew who the woman had been in life. But she always appeared on that stretch of track after dark, beckoning to the men on the railroad crew with a bewitching smile. Sometimes, said his friend, sometimes she would come right onto the train!
"Better not tell your wife about it," his friend advised.
The engineer never did.
story from: http://americanfolklore.net/folklore/2010/07/ghost_on_the_tracks.html

Story 73

Phileas is site seeing around New York, but while he finds more stories for you here is one to keep you happy.

Armadillo's Song

There once lived an armadillo who loved music more than anything else in the world. After every rainfall, the armadillo would drag his shell over to the large pond filled with frogs and he would listen to the big green frogs singing back and forth, back and forth to each other in the most amazing voices.
"Oh," thought the armadillo, "Oh how I wish I could sing."
The armadillo would creep to the edge of the water and watch the frogs leaping and swimming in a frantic green ballet, and they would call back and forth, back and forth in beautiful, musical tones. He loved to listen to the music they made as they spoke, though he didn't understand their words; which was just as well - for the frogs were laughing at this funny animal that wanted so badly to sing like a frog.
"Don't be ridiculous," sang the frogs as they played. "Armadillos can't sing."
Then one day a family of crickets moved into a new house near the armadillo, and he was amazed to hear them chirp and sing as merrily as the frogs. He would creep next to their house and listen and listen all day, all night for their musical sounds.
"Oh," sighed the armadillo, "Oh how I wish I could sing."
"Don't be ridiculous," sang the crickets in their dulcet tones. "Armadillos can't sing."
But the armadillo could not understand their language, and so he just sighed with longing and listened to their beautiful voices laughing at him.
Then one day a man came down the road carrying a cage full of canaries. They were chirping and flittering and singing songs that were more beautiful even than those of the crickets and the frogs. The armadillo was entranced. He followed the man with the cage down the road as fast as his little legs would carry him, listening to the canaries singing.
"Oh," gasped the armadillo, "Oh how I wish I could sing."
Inside the cage, the canaries twittered and giggled.
"Don't be ridiculous," sang the canaries as they flapped about. "Armadillos can't sing."
The poor tired armadillo couldn't keep up with the man and the cage, and finally he fell exhausted at the door of the great wizard who lived in the area. Realizing where he was, the armadillo decided to beg a boon of the man.
Timidly, the armadillo approached the wizard, who was sitting in front of his house and said: "Great wizard, it is my deepest desire to learn to sing like the frogs and the crickets and the canaries."
The wizard's lips twitched a little in amusement, for who had ever heard of an armadillo that could sing. But he realized that the little animal was serious. He bent low to the ground and looked the creature in the eye.
"I can make you sing, little armadillo," he said. "But you do not want to pay the price, for it will mean your death."
"You mean if I die I will be able to sing?" asked the armadillo in amazement.
"Yes, this is so," said the wizard.
"Then I want to die right now!" said the armadillo. "I would do anything to be able to sing!"
The wizard and the armadillo discussed the matter for many hours, for the wizard was reluctant to take the life of such a fine armadillo. But the creature insisted, and so the wizard finally killed the armadillo, made a wonderful musical instrument from his shell, and gave it to the finest musician in the town to play.
Sometimes the musician would play his instrument by the pond where the frogs lived, and they would stare at him with big eyes and say: "Ai! Ai! The armadillo has learned to sing."
Sometimes the musician would play his instrument by the house where the crickets lived, and they would creep outside to stare at him with big eyes and say: "Ai! Ai! The armadillo has learned to sing."
And often the musician would visit the home of his friend who owned the cage full of canaries - who was also a musician - and the two men would play their instruments together while the little birds watched with fluttering wings and twittered in amazement: "Ai! Ai! The armadillo has learned to sing."
And so it was. The armadillo had learned to sing at last, and his voice was the finest in the land. But like the very best musicians in the world, the armadillo sacrificed his Life for his Art.
Story 74

Phileas is having such a wonderful time in New York, and he has met so many new people. One of his new friends even taught him a very good tongue twister story, and he wanted to share it with you today...

Yankee Doodle Donkey

Dolly Dittlemore put her harmonica into her pocket and said: "I am going to march in the Fourth of July parade. Don't get into any trouble, Yankee Doodle."
Yankee Doodle, her pet donkey, nodded his shaggy brown head up and down and continued to munch on the piece of drape he had bitten from the window. Dolly and her father left the bright sunny garden and walked down Drake Drive together.
Suddenly Yankee Doodle realized Dolly had gone downtown without him. Yankee Doodle brayed in distress. He dropped the drape and trotted to the gate. Yankee Doodle nudged the door open. Then Yankee Doodle went to town.
By the time Yankee Doodle reached the end of Drake Drive there was no sign of Dolly. Yankee Doodle drifted past Anna's Fresh Fruit Stand. Yankee Doodle liked the look of Anna's apples. He took a mouthful.
"There's a donkey eating the apples!" shouted a little boy.
Anna came running out of the store.
"Shoo Yankee Doodle!" she shouted. "Go home."
Yankee Doodle did not want to go home. Instead, he trotted down the street, toward the crowd at the far end. Yankee Doodle paused to eat Baby Bobby's bibs off the clothesline. Bobby's mother chased him away with a broom.
Then Yankee Doodle spotted the supermarket. With a happy bray, he jogged through the cheering crowd, past the shopping carts, through the automatic doors and into the vegetable aisle. He had eaten all the corn and had started on the lettuce when the manager came running up.
"Get out of here!" he yelled. "Help, police!"
Yankee Doodle did not want to leave the supermarket. There was so much to munch on, all in one place. But he did not like the noise the manager was making, so he left the lettuce and went into aisle eight. It was full of paper products. Yankee Doodle liked paper.
The manager came into the paper aisle with Sergeant Peters the policeman.
"See here, you can't eat that!" said Sergeant Peters as Yankee Doodle munched on some paper plates.
Sergeant Peters tried to pull Yankee Doodle out of the aisle. Yankee Doodle didn't like that. He brayed loudly and threw up his head.
The manager tried to push Yankee Doodle out of the aisle. Yankee Doodle refused to budge. Several shoppers tried to help, but no one could make Yankee Doodle move.
Outside the supermarket, Justin's Jug Band struck up the song Yankee Doodle Dandy as they marched by in the parade. Yankee Doodle stopped chewing the package of cups. He liked the sound of that song. Dolly sang it to him every night when she fed him.
Behind him, Sergeant Peters and the manager were pushing on his back end. Yankee Doodle did not like that. He decided to look for Dolly. Yankee Doodle trotted out the door. Sergeant Peters and the manager fell in a heap behind him.
Yankee Doodle followed the Jug Band up the hill. Dolly was playing harmonica with the band when she spotted him.
"Yankee Doodle!" shouted Dolly.
Yankee Doodle brayed happily. He had found Dolly.
"Yankee Doodle, you go home right now!" said Dolly.
Yankee Doodle did not want to go home. He wanted to march in the parade with Dolly. She handed her harmonica to her father and ran after him. Yankee Doodle thought it was a game and danced in and out of the crowd, knocking over some clowns and sending their balloons heavenward.
"Oh, dear!" Dolly cried. "Yankee Doodle, you are ruining the parade."
Yankee Doodle began to eat a clown's hat. He stayed just out of reach when Dolly's father tried to grab him. Several strangers in the crowd tried to catch him, but Yankee Doodle just ran back into the center of the parade and trotted behind a big float of the American flag.
"Quick, everyone," called Dolly. "Play Yankee Doodle Dandy again."
The members of the Jug Band reassembled and began to play. Yankee Doodle brayed happily. They were playing his favorite song. "Yankee Doodle keep it up/Yankee Doodle dandy," Dolly sang.
She led the Jug Band away from the parade and up Drake Drive toward her house. A large number of people followed them. Yankee Doodle was hee-hawing happily along with the band. They finished the song in front of Dolly's yard. Yankee Doodle trotted through the open gate. Dolly closed it with a flourish. The members of the Jug Band cheered.
"Put Yankee Doodle away," Dolly's father called, before he left with the band to rejoin the parade. Dolly Dittlemore glared at Yankee Doodle.
Yankee Doodle backed into the corner of the garden.
"No carrots for a week!" said Dolly and put him into his stall.
Yankee Doodle never went to town again.
Phileas was so happy to be in New York that all his excitement was making it hard for him to sleep. So the owner of the hotel very kindly say Phileas a Nursery Rhymes. This Nursery Rhyme helped Phileas sleep so well that he wanted to share it with you all today...
Bobby Shafto

Bobby Shafto's gone to sea,
Silver buckles at his knee;
He'll come back and marry me,
Bonny Bobby Shafto!
Bobby Shafto's fat and fair,
Combing down his yellow hair;
He's my love fore everymore,
Bonny Bobby Shafto!
Bobby Shafto's looking out,
All his ribbons flew about,
All the ladies gave a shout,
Hey for bobby Shafto!
Story 76

The next night Phileas tried to sing the Nursery Rhyme to himself but he was keeping himself up by singing, therefore he decided to go and ask the owner of the hotel for a nice hot glass of milk, and while he sat in the lounge of the hotel she decided to tell him the legendary wonderful story about Christmas...

A Gift from Saint Nicholas

Claas Schlaschenschlinger was a wealthy cobbler living on New Street in New Amsterdam. He was a contented bachelor who could afford eight - eight mind you! - pairs of breeches and he had a little side business selling geese. He cut quite a figure in New Amsterdam society, and was happy being single, until he met the fair Anitje! She was as pretty as a picture, and Claas fell head over heels for her. He was not her only suitor, by any means. The local burgomaster was also courting the fair Anitje. But the burgomaster was a stingy, hard man, and in the end, Anitje gave her heart and hand to Claas. 

At first, Claas and Anitje were very happy and prosperous, raising geese and children. But the burgomaster was a vengeful sort of fellow, who began a series of "improvements" to the local neighborhood, charging highly for each one, until all their money was gone. The arrival of a blacksmith who repaired shoes with hob nails, so that the shoes lasted a year or more, left Claas, Anitje and their six children as poor as church mice. 

Christmas Eve found the Schlaschenschlinger family down to their last, cold meal of bread and cheese. Claas was wondering what he had left to sell, in order to feed his family. Then he remembered a fine pipe that he had found in one of his stockings on a long ago Christmas morning in Holland. It was a fine pipe, too good for a mere cobbler. Claas knew even then that such a gift could only be from Saint Nicholas himself. 

Claas leapt up and went to dig through an old chest until he found the pipe. As he unearthed it from under a pile of clothes, a draft of cold air came from the open front door. Claas scolded his children for playing with the door and went to close it, but found the doorway filled by the merry, round figure of a stranger. 

"Thank you, thank you, I will come in out of the cold," said the man, stomping in the door and taking a seat by the poor excuse for a fire that blazed in the hearth. 

The family gathered around the white bearded old fellow as he tried to warm himself. He scolded them roundly for not keeping the fire hot, and when Claas admitted that they had nothing left to burn, the old man broke his fine rosewood cane in two and threw it on the fire. The cane blazed up merrily, heating the whole room, and singeing the hair of the cat, which leapt away with a yowl of indignation, making everyone laugh. It was hard to be sober around this merry old man, who made sly jokes, told riddles, and sang songs. 

After sitting for half an hour with the family, the old man began rubbing his stomach and gazing wistfully at the cupboard. 

"Might there be a bite to eat for an old man on this Christmas Eve?" he asked Anitje. 

She blushed in shame and admitted there was nothing left in their cupboard. 

"Nothing?" said he, "Then what about that fine goose right there?"

Anitje gasped, for suddenly the smell of a tenderly roasted goose filled the room. She ran to the cupboard, and there was a huge goose on a platter! She also found pies and cakes and bread and many other good things to eat and drink. The little boys and girls shouted in delight, and the whole family feasted merrily, with the little white bearded old man seated at the head of the table. As they ate, Claas showed the old man the pipe he meant to sell. 

"Why that pipe is a lucky pipe," said the old man, examining it closely. "Smoked by John Calvin himself, if I am not mistaken. You should keep this pipe all your days and hand it down to your children." 

Finally, the church bells tolled midnight, and the little old man cried: "Midnight! I must be off!" Claas and Anitje begged him to stay and spend Christmas with them, but, he just smile merrily at them and strode over to the chimney. "A Merry Christmas to you all, and a Happy New Year!" he cried. And then he disappeared. Ever afterwards, Anitje and her daughters claimed they saw him go straight up the chimney, while Claas and the boys thought he kicked up the ashes and disappeared out the door. 

The next morning, when Anitje was sweeping the fireplace, she found a huge bag full of silver, bearing the words "A Gift from Saint Nicholas". Outside the house, there arose a clamor of voices. When Claas and Anitje went to investigate, they discovered their wooden house was now made of brick! 

At first, the townsfolk thought they were in league with a wizard, but when Claas told them the story and showed them the new possessions and riches left to them by the old man, they made him the town alderman. 

The transformed "Dutch House" remained a landmark for many years following the death of Claas and Anitje, until the British tore it down to make way for improvements in the neighborhood.

Story can be found at: http://americanfolklore.net/folklore/2010/08/a_gift_from_saint_nicholas.html

Story 77

Phileas knew that America had a great history and he decided today he was going to go to the library to find out as much as he could. He was having such fun researching all about the histroy of a different country when he came across this African-American folktale and he wanted to share it with you today...

Brer Rabbit Earns a Dollar-a-Mintue

One fine morning, Brer Fox decided to plant him a patch of goober peas. He set to with a will and before you know it, he had raked and hoed out a beautiful patch of ground and he put in a fine planting of peas. It didn't take too long before those goober vines grew tall and long and the peas ripened up good and smart.
Now Brer Rabbit, he'd watched Brer Fox planting the goobers and he told his children and Miz Rabbit where they could find the patch. Soon as those peas were ripe, the little Rabbits and Brer Rabbit would sneak on in and grab up them goobers by the handfuls. It got so bad that when Brer Fox came to the goober patch, he could hardly find a pea to call his own.
Well, Brer Fox, he was plenty mad that he'd worked so hard on those peas only to have them eaten by someone else. He suspected that Brer Rabbit was to blame for this, but the rascally rabbit had covered his tracks so well that Brer Fox couldn't catch him. So Brer Fox came up with a plan. He found a smooth spot in his fence where a cunning rabbit could sneak in, and he set a trap for Brer Rabbit at that spot. He tied a rope to a nearby hickory sapling and bent it nearly double. Then he took the other end of the rope and made a loop knot that he fastened with a trigger right around the hole in the fence. If anybody came through the crack to steal his peas, the knot would tighten around their body, the sapling would spring upright, and they would be left hanging from the tree for everyone to see.
The next morning, Brer Rabbit came a-slipping through the hole in the fence. At once, the trigger sprung, the knot tightened on his forelegs, and the hickory tree snapped upright, quick as you please. Brer Rabbit found himself swung aloft betwixt the heaven and the earth, swinging from the hickory sapling. He couldn't go up and he couldn't go down. He just went back and forth.
Brer Rabbit was in a fix, no mistake. He was trying to come up with some glib explanation for Brer Fox when he heard someone a-rumbling and a-bumbling down the road. It was Brer Bear, looking for a bee-tree so he could get him some honey. As soon as Brer Rabbit saw Brer Bear, he came up with a plan to get himself free.
"Howdy, Brer Bear," he called cheerfully. Brer Bear squinted around here and there, wondering where the voice had come from. Then he looked up and saw Brer Rabbit swinging from the sapling.
"Howdy Brer Rabbit," he rumbled. "How are you this morning?"
"Middling, Brer Bear," Rabbit replied. "Just middling."
Brer Bear was wondering why Brer Rabbit was up in the tree, so he asked him about it. Brer Rabbit grinned and said that he was earning a dollar-a-minute from Brer Fox.
"A dollar-a-minute!" Brer Bear exclaimed. "What for?"
"I'm keeping the crows away from his goober patch," Brer Rabbit explained, and went on to say that Brer Fox was paying a dollar-a-minute to whomever would act as a scarecrow for him.
Well, Brer Bear liked the sound of that. He had a big family to feed, and he could use the money. When Brer Rabbit asked him if he would like to have the job, Brer Bear agreed. Brer Rabbit showed him how to bend the sapling down and remove the knot from his forepaws. When Brer Rabbit was free, Brer Bear climbed into the knot and soon he was hanging aloft betwixt heaven and earth, swing to and from the sapling and growling at the birds to keep them away from the goober patch.
Brer Rabbit laughed and laughed at the sight of Brer Bear up in the sapling. He scampered down the road to Brer Fox's place and told him that his trap was sprung and the goober thief was hanging from the hickory tree. Brer Fox grabbed his walking stick and ran down the road after Brer Rabbit. When he saw Brer Bear hanging there, Brer Fox called him a goober thief. Brer Fox ranted and raved and threatened to hit Brer Bear with his walking stick. He yelled so loud that Brer Bear didn't have time to explain nothing!
Brer Rabbit knew that Brer Bear would be plenty mad at him when he found out he had been tricked, and so he ran down the road and hid in the mud beside the pond, so that only his eyeballs stuck out, making him look like a big old bullfrog. By and by, a very grumpy Brer Bear came lumbering down the road.
"Howdy, Brer Bullfrog," Brer Bear said when he saw Brer Rabbit's eyes sticking out of the mud. "You seen Brer Rabbit anywhere?"
"Brer Rabbit jest ran on down the road," he told the grumpy Brer Bear in a deep croaking voice that sounded just like the voice of a frog. Brer Bear thanked him and trotted down the road, growling fiercely.
When Brer Bear was out of sight, Brer Rabbit jumped out of the mud. He washed himself off in the pond and then scampered home, chuckling to himself at how he'd escaped from Brer Fox and Brer Bear, and already thinking up a new way to get into Brer Fox's goober patch to get him some peas to eat.
Story can be found at: http://americanfolklore.net/folklore/2010/07/brer_rabbit_earns_a_dollaramin.html


Story 78

Phileas is now in search of a way to get back to London as the 80 days are coming to a close. But while he is in search for a way to travel he left you with this wonderful story...

What We Plant, We Will Eat

Many moons ago, two brothers lived with their father in a small house in Korea.  The younger brother worked hard and was kind to all he met.  The elder, knowing he was to inherit his father's prosperous rice farm, was arrogant and proud.  He scorned his younger brother and ignored his aging father. 
Every night after supper, the father would say:  "Remember, my sons.  What you plant you will eat. "  The younger son nodded politely, for he loved his parent and honored him.  But the elder son would yawn and walk away.  The father watched him go with sadness. 
On his deathbed, the father beckoned the two brothers close to him.  "Remember, my sons.  Nothing is as important as family.  Share this property and work together.  I leave this land to both of you."   And so saying, he died.   
The elder brother was furious.  The law of the land said that an elder son inherited everything.  As soon as the funeral ceremonies were past, he thrust the younger brother from their home, ignoring the last wish of his dying father. 
Heartbroken, the younger brother walked for many miles, far away from his home and village, until he found some broken down land that nobody wanted.  He tended it carefully, planting a small crop of rice and building a mud cottage that was thatched from the dirty straw that dropped from passing farm carts.    By saving and scraping, he managed to make enough money to build a small house and make a profit.  So he was able to marry and have a family. 
One year, a drought overcame the land and the younger son's rice crop failed.  Without assistance, his family would starve.  It broke his heart to hear his wife and children moaning with hunger in their sleep, so he went to his wealthy brother to ask him to share some of the rice raised on the property which their father had willed to them both.   "It's my rice crop now," the elder brother cried with a cruel laugh.  "Go away."  So saying, he slammed the front door in his younger brother's face and locked it against him.
Brokenhearted, the younger brother turned away.  As he left the village, he heard a shrill cry from a tree above him.  A snake was attacking a baby swallow.  Flapping frantically, the tiny bird tried to escape, but it was too young to fly and fell to the ground instead.  The younger brother picked the helpless baby up and cradled the tiny bird in his hands.  Its leg was broken, and so he tore a strip of cloth from his shirt and set the swallow's leg.  When the snake slid away, he returned the baby to its nest and went home to his starving family.
The next few weeks were hard.  The younger brother gave every spare scrap of food to his tiny children, who were so thin he could count their ribs.  His wife walked over the fields searching for any edible plants she could find, but her harvest was scant. 
Then one day a tiny swallow flew to their house and landed on the thatch.  It was the baby swallow the younger brother had rescued.  Leg now healed and able to fly, the swallow sat on the thatch and sang a merry song of thanks to the marveling family.  Then it circled the younger brother's house three times and then dropped a large seed into a damp patch of earth. 
The family stared at the seed, and the youngest daughter wanted to touch it, but her father held her back.  As they watched, the seed put out a root, and started to grow.  The starving family watching in astonishment as the seed became a vine and the vine grew and grew.  Within minutes, luscious melons were growing on the vine.  Within an hour, they were ripe and ready to pick. 
"Father, father!  May we eat a magic melon?" cried the hungry children.  Laughing in delight, the younger brother pulled a melon off the vine and cut it open.  Beside him, his wife gasped in astonishment.  Inside, the melon was filled with so many gold coins that they spilled to the ground all around the starving family's feet.  Every melon was full of gold. 
The younger brother and his family were rich beyond their wildest dreams.  They had plenty to eat, they bought a large house with land, and they had brand-new clothes to wear.  It was amazing. 
When the elder brother heard of this good fortune, he was filled with jealousy and started searching for his own magic bird.  He spent days combing the lands around his village, greedy for more power, more money, more land.  When at last he stumbled upon a little bird with a broken leg, he picked it up, saying:  "I will help you, little bird if you will help me." The little bird stared up at him with wise eyes, seeing through the fake sympathy into the greedy heart beneath. 
When the bird's leg healed, it flew to the elder brother's house, circled his head three times and dropped a seed into the moist soil.  With a triumphant laugh, the elder brother watched the seed grow into a vine.  Melons swelled up larger and larger until they were as tall as a man.  The elder brother was delighted.  Obviously he was much worthier then his brother, to merit such large melons.  He picked the largest melon and cut it open.  Instantly. a band of warriors burst from the melon and fell on him with clubs.  They stole his money and left him moaning on the ground.  
Unable to believe that all the melons were bad, the elder brother crawled over to the second largest melon, expecting to find enough gold and silver to make up for the beating he'd received from the warriors in the first melon.   Whack!  He cut open the first melon and was overwhelmed by a huge ball of hissing snakes that  slithered straight into his house.  He cut open a third melon, and had to dodge out of the way as a huge colony of rats rustled past.   By this time, the magical melons were overripe and began bursting on their own. Spiders, ants, termites, bees, and many other hissing, biting, crawling creatures invaded the house and yard.  Within an hour, the elder brother's property was completely destroyed. 
The elder brother ran away from his ruined house and lands.  Poorer even then his younger brother had once been, he wandered from village to village, begging for food.   One day, he looked up from his begging and saw his younger brother standing a few feet away, holding a hoe.  Ashamed, the elder brother looked down, until the blade of the hoe landed on the ground beside his foot. 
"I have lost everything," the elder brother said, staring at the blade of the hoe.  "I have no place to go.  No food.  I won't blame you if you send me away too." 
He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.  "Come, brother," the prosperous farmer said.  "Let us sew a new crop, together.  For what we plant, we will eat." 
The elder brother looked up with tears in his eyes, and accepted the hoe from his younger brother's hand. 

Story 79

Phileas can hardly believe that tomorrow he will be meeting all his new friends from this blog, he is very happy to be coming home, but at the same time quite sad that his adventures are almost over. But Phileas at the moment is heading towards the airport so that he will be able to arrive in London just on time for the Fairlop Fair, so while he travels he has left you with his favorite type of story...a tongue twister...

Tall Ted's Turtle

Tall Ted Thompson parked his traveling turtle tank on Tenth Street in front of Tonawanda Town Hall.  Tall Ted's traveling Turtle Aquarium was a big attraction in Tonawanda.  Timmie Torlish and his twin sister Trish ran to push their noses against the tanks windows to take a look at the turtles as Tall Ted walked up Tenth Street to talk to the mayor.
     It was Timmie who noticed Travis Taylor staring intently at the turtles swimming and sunning themselves in Tall Ted's turtle tank. 
     "Look at Terrible Travis!" Timmie whispered to Trish. 
      "I bet he wants to steal Tall Ted's turtles and make them into turtle soup," said Trish.  "Last month, he stole Farmer Tom's turtles right out of the pond!"    
      "Well, he can't steal these turtles.  They are safely locked away in Tall Ted's tank," said Timmie to his twin. 
      When the twins were done watching turtles, they headed up the street toward Town Hall, which had a huge tulip tree out front that was easy to climb.  Suddenly, Timmie heard a thud from somewhere behind them.  Timmie and Trish turned around and saw that Terrible Travis had unhooked the door to Tall Ted's turtle tank.  Water leaked out of the turtle tank. Then, the door to the tank trembled and burst open.  Out tumbled a ton of water and all of Tall Ted's turtles.  Turtles of all sizes toppled over and over as the torrent tore down Tenth Street, scrambling desperately toward the sidewalk in their effort to get out of the raging torrent.
     "Ted's turtles are loose," yelled Trish. "Quick, Timmie, go get Tall Ted."   
      Timmie toppled out of the tulip tree and ran to get Ted.  Trish jumped down behind him and hurried onto Tenth Street to try to capture Tall Ted's turtles. 
      Tenth Street was a mess!  Turtles were traipsing everywhere, and the gutters were overflowing with water.  Tracey Timmons the local school teacher tripped over two of Tall Ted's Turtles and dropped her grocery bag full of tomatoes.  Twenty turtles meandered into Toy Town and ten turtles got caught in the revolving door of the Tenth Street Savings and Loan and were tossed into the lap of a surprised teller who was taking a lunch break.
     Officer Todd Tabbot, Tonawanda's town policeman, stopped traffic so Tall Ted could collect his turtles.  Timmie, Trish and the shopkeepers all helped Tall Ted.
     "How did my tank break?" asked Tall Ted, scratching his head in puzzlement.
     "Terrible Travis unhooked the door to the tank," the twins told Tall Ted.  "We think he wants to make Turtle Soup for his truck stop."
Tall Ted's eyes widened when he heard this report.  "That could explain why twenty of my turtles are missing," Tall Ted exclaimed.
     Tall Ted, the twins and Officer Talbot took Tall Ted's traveling turtle tank over to Taylor's Truck Stop to talk to Terrible Travis.  They found Travis heating up a huge pot of water.  In a tank behind him swam twenty turtles.  All the turtles had the special tag that Tall Ted hooked onto their shells to help people identify his pets.  
     Terrible Travis turned pale when he saw Tall Ted and Officer Talbot.
     "I give up," Travis cried when Tall Ted showed Todd Talbot the tags his turtles wore.  Todd Talbot arrested Travis for stealing Tall Ted's turtles and for tampering with Tall Ted's traveling turtle tank.
     Tall Ted shook hands with Timmie and Trish Torlish and gave them a turtle to take care of as a reward for turning in Travis Taylor.  Then Tall Ted got into his traveling turtle tank and drove down Tenth Street to Tonawanda Town Hall to finish his talk with the mayor.
Story can be found at: http://americanfolklore.net/folklore/2011/08/tall_teds_turtles.html

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