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Read Ebook: Evening Tales by Ortoli Jean Baptiste Fr D Ric Harris Joel Chandler Translator
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Ebook has 1331 lines and 39323 words, and 27 pages
I PAGE A FRENCH TAR-BABY, 1
II TEENCHY DUCK, 13
V THE KING AND THE LAPWINGS, 64
VI THE ROOSTER, THE CAT, AND THE REAP-HOOK, 75
X A SEARCH FOR A FRIEND, 155
INTRODUCTION
But one night after supper the children of the household were suddenly missing. There was no romping going on in the hall. There were no voices to be heard on the lawn. There was no rippit taking place in the bedrooms. What could the matter be? Had the storm-centre moved in the direction of our innocent neighbors? The silence was so unusual that it created a sudden sense of loneliness.
But the investigation that followed showed that the youngsters had merely made a temporary surrender of their privileges. Their mother was reading to them some of the stories in M. Ortoli's book, and they were listening with an interest that childhood can neither affect nor disguise. I begged permission to make one of the audience.
"But you have writing to do," said one of the lads.
"It will disturb you," said one of the girls.
Nevertheless, the lady, who was and is the centre of this family circle, graciously made room for one more listener; and thus it happens that this little volume of M. Ortoli's stories is in the nature of a family affair. The lady, for the benefit of the intruder, was pleased to go over the stories again, and to read them more slowly, and thus they were put in their present form. Most frequently I have preserved the swift and piquant rendering, the fluent interpretation that fell from the lady's lips.
My apologies are perhaps due to M. Ortoli for a certain freedom of treatment that has been deemed necessary in some of the stories. I trust this has not been carried too far; but in some instances it has been necessary to English the characters and incidents as well as the text. Nevertheless, an effort has been made to preserve something of the individuality of M. Ortoli, and I think that at least the flavor of it will be found in the stories that follow.
J. C. H.
WEST END, ATLANTA, GA.
EVENING TALES
A FRENCH TAR-BABY
In the time when there were hobgoblins and fairies, Brother Goat and Brother Rabbit lived in the same neighborhood, not far from each other.
Proud of his long beard and sharp horns, Brother Goat looked on Brother Rabbit with disdain. He would hardly speak to Brother Rabbit when he met him, and his greatest pleasure was to make his little neighbor the victim of his tricks and practical jokes. For instance, he would say:
"Brother Rabbit, here is Mr. Fox," and this would cause Brother Rabbit to run away as hard as he could. Again he would say:
"Brother Rabbit, here is Mr. Wolf," and poor Brother Rabbit would shake and tremble with fear. Sometimes he would cry out:
"Brother Rabbit, here is Mr. Tiger," and then Brother Rabbit would shudder and think that his last hour had come.
Tired of this miserable existence, Brother Rabbit tried to think of some means by which he could change his powerful and terrible neighbor into a friend. After a time, he thought he had discovered a way to make Brother Goat his friend, and so he invited him to dinner.
Brother Goat was quick to accept the invitation. The dinner was a fine affair, and there was an abundance of good eating. A great many different dishes were served. Brother Goat licked his mouth and shook his long beard with satisfaction. He had never before been present at such a feast.
"Well, my friend," exclaimed Brother Rabbit, when the dessert was brought in, "how do you like your dinner?"
"I could certainly wish for nothing better," replied Brother Goat, rubbing the tips of his horns against the back of his chair; "but my throat is very dry and a little water would hurt neither the dinner nor me."
"Gracious!" said Brother Rabbit, "I have neither wine-cellar nor water. I am not in the habit of drinking while I am eating."
"Neither have I any water, Brother Rabbit," said Brother Goat. "But I have an idea! If you will go with me over yonder by the big poplar, we will dig a well."
"No, Brother Goat," said Brother Rabbit, who hoped to revenge himself--"no, I do not care to dig a well. At daybreak I drink the dew from the cups of the flowers, and in the heat of the day I milk the cows and drink the cream."
"Well and good," said Brother Goat. "Alone I will dig the well, and alone I will drink out of it."
"Success to you, Brother Goat," said Brother Rabbit.
"Thank you kindly, Brother Rabbit."
Brother Goat then went to the foot of the big poplar and began to dig his well. He dug with his forefeet and with his horns, and the well got deeper and deeper. Soon the water began to bubble up and the well was finished, and then Brother Goat made haste to quench his thirst. He was in such a hurry that his beard got in the water, but he drank and drank until he had his fill.
Brother Rabbit, who had followed him at a little distance, hid himself behind a bush and laughed heartily. He said to himself: "What an innocent creature you are!"
The next day, when Brother Goat, with his big beard and sharp horns, returned to his well to get some water, he saw the tracks of Brother Rabbit in the soft earth. This put him to thinking. He sat down, pulled his beard, scratched his head, and tapped himself on the forehead.
"My friend," he exclaimed after a while, "I will catch you yet."
Then he ran and got his tools and made a large doll out of laurel wood. When the doll was finished, he spread tar on it here and there, on the right and on the left, and up and down. He smeared it all over with the sticky stuff, until it was as black as a Guinea negro.
This finished, Brother Goat waited quietly until evening. At sunset he placed the tarred doll near the well, and ran and hid himself behind the trees and bushes. The moon had just risen, and the heavens twinkled with millions of little star-torches.
Brother Rabbit, who was waiting in his house, believed that the time had come for him to get some water, so he took his bucket and went to Brother Goat's well. On the way he was very much afraid that something would catch him. He trembled when the wind shook the leaves of the trees. He would go a little distance and then stop and listen; he hid here behind a stone, and there behind a tuft of grass.
At last he arrived at the well, and there he saw the little negro. He stopped and looked at it with astonishment. Then he drew back a little way, advanced again, drew back, advanced a little, and stopped once more.
"What can that be?" he said to himself. He listened, with his long ears pointed forward, but the trees could not talk, and the bushes were dumb. He winked his eyes and lowered his head:
"Hey, friend! who are you?" he asked.
The tar-doll didn't move. Brother Rabbit went up a little closer, and asked again:
"Who are you?"
The tar-doll said nothing. Brother Rabbit breathed more at ease. Then he went to the brink of the well, but when he looked in the water the tar-doll seemed to look in too. He could see her reflection in the water. This made Brother Rabbit so mad that he grew red in the face.
"See here!" he exclaimed, "if you look in this well I'll give you a rap on the nose!"
Brother Rabbit leaned over the brink of the well, and saw the tar-doll smiling at him in the water. He raised his right hand and hit her--bam! His hand stuck.
"What's this?" exclaimed Brother Rabbit. "Turn me loose, imp of Satan! If you do not, I will rap you on the eye with my other hand."
Then he hit her--bim! The left hand stuck also. Then Brother Rabbit raised his right foot, saying:
"Mark me well, little Congo! Do you see this foot? I will kick you in the stomach if you do not turn me loose this instant."
No sooner said than done. Brother Rabbit let fly his right foot--vip! The foot stuck, and he raised the other.
"Do you see this foot?" he exclaimed. "If I hit you with it, you will think a thunderbolt has struck you."
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