Mr Wolf and the Moon
L
ong, long ago in a faraway land there was a lake. One fine summer’s day the lake spoke to the animals on its shore, saying: “I’m so sad to see that the poor old Moon is getting thinner and thinner every night. What will happen to us if it disappears?” “The Moon needs to eat to get fat,” replied Mr Wolf moving nearer the lake. “I’ll tell you what. When it gets dark, everyone should put some food out for the Moon’s supper and in a week’s time or so the Moon will be as round as a cheese, just like it used to be.” And that’s exactly what the animals did. Every night before they went to bed, they put a little supper out for the Moon, and by the morning it was gone. The days passed, and the full, fat Moon was reflected in the water of the lake. The animals were relieved and thought kindly of Mr Wolf. A week or two went by and the Moon again began to get thinner. “Oh, kind Mr Wolf! Please help us,” pleaded the animals. “Well, alright. I suppose I can. Now listen here. If you don’t want the Moon to get thin again, it needs nice things to eat. The bear’s blackberry jam was as sour as a lemon, the squirrel’s walnut mustard was old…” and so the wolf continued. The animals closed in around the wolf. Suddenly they asked: “How do you know this, Mr Wolf? Did you taste the food? Maybe it was you who ate it all up!”
To be sure, it soon became clear that Mr Wolf had gulped down the food every evening and the Moon had had none. The wolf tried to run away but he was so fat from all the lovely food that he had eaten that the animals quickly caught up with him and gave his grey coat a good hiding. Mr Wolf never forgot this and told his painful story to all the wolves. Since then, wolves have howled every time there is a full moon. The Man in the Moon simply smiles in the night sky when he thinks of the wolf’s sorrowful story. 5
The Fox’s Pancakes
O
ne day Reynard the Fox, who was very skilful with a frying pan, made some pancakes. Even the animals from the nearby wood came to see his amazing tricks. The fox tossed the pancake up into the air, where it flipped over from one side to the other, and then caught it in the frying pan. “Wow!” exclaimed the animals peeping through the window as Reynard cooked one big round pancake after another. “That’ll do!” said Reynard the Fox licking his lips. “Now, let’s see what I have to put in them.” He opened the larder and looked at the shelves. Everything was there: a sieve for flour, a nutcracker, a teapot and even a jam jar. That, however, was as empty as a hatched egg. “Oh bother! Now I’m in a pretty pickle! Pancakes are no good without jam.” So, he turned on his heel and went to see his neighbour, Mr Wolf. “What’s up, Reynard, my old chum?” asked the wolf. “Please help me, good neighbour. I’ve made some pancakes but my jam jar is empty. If you could spare just a cupful,” pleaded the fox. Mr Wolf thought a little, swishing his tail to the right and to the left, and then said: “Of course, I’ll help you, Reynard. Let’s do a swap. I’ll give you some jam and you give me some pancakes.” The silly fox ran to fetch the pancakes and brought all three dozen of them. They did the swap and then they both sat
6
down by their own stove to tuck in. Reynard was about to spread the jam but he had given all the pancakes to the wolf. Mr Wolf was about to put jam on the pancakes but he had given it to the fox. So he ran over to his neighbour’s house. “Give me back my jam, Reynard the Fox,” the wolf shouted into the kitchen. “I’ll give it back if you give me back my pancakes,” replied the fox. They swapped and both animals sat down by their own stove. The wolf was about to spread the jam but he had nothing to put it on. The fox was about to put something on his pancakes but there was nothing to spread on them. They ran back to each other. “Give me back my jam,” said one. “Give me back my pancakes,” said the other. They swapped again and so it went on until the Sun got tired of watching the two animals running around and went down behind the horizon. Annoyed, Reynard ate his pancakes without any jam and Mr Wolf licked up all the jam without any pancakes. The old bear watched the toing and froing of the two silly animals sitting in his rocking chair in front of his cave and had a good laugh.
“Don’t be such a silly pair, in the future think and share.” 7
The Ambitious Snowflake
U
p in the sky the cold north wind blew grey snow clouds together. Inside the clouds there was a lot of hustle and bustle. Fresh white lacy snowflakes were waiting for the Snow Fairy to send them down to the world below. “Don’t push! Don’t queue jump!” she moaned among the excited little snowflakes. Then she made everyone stand in line: “All those who want to land on a roof top in a town go over there. Snowflakes who want to cover a meadow should come here. Has everyone paired up with another snowflake?” she asked again and again. A fat little snowflake drew apart from all the others. The Snow Fairy noticed him and darted over to him. “What about you? Why don’t you join the others?” she smiled kindly. The little snowflake stood up straight, his chest swelling with pride in his lacy patterned jacket, and he said: “I must go another way. I’m going to be a snowman and I will be in the world below until spring. Everyone will see what a beautiful snowflake I am.” The Snow Fairy laughed and stroked his face, and made him go and stand with the other snowflakes just at the last moment. It was in the 8
nick of time because just then the cloud opened and the snowflakes began to somersault down happily. Some fell on the church steeple, and others on the edge of a ditch. The little fat snowflake came to earth next to a rose bush in the garden of a house. He looked around in excitement to see if there were any people there. He didn’t have to wait long. Soon some children rushed out of the house and cried: “It’s snoooowing!” “Snooow! Snow!” “That’s it!” thought the snowflake. Soon the owner of a stripy glove rolled him into a snowball. The snowball grew bigger and bigger until at last a snowman’s round tummy was made. “What a lovely snowman. He’s lovely!” the children danced around the carrot-nosed figure. “And what about me? Am I lovely?” cried out the little snowflake among all the other thousands of snowflakes squeezed together. The children, of course, could not hear what he said. The snowflake stayed in the middle of the snowman’s stomach until spring. And all the while he thought about where to fly the next winter because right now only the Snow Fairy could see how beautiful he really was. 9
The Postman Who Said “No” ! o n
Y
esterday Tobias got a shiny new bicycle. It looked splendid. It had a bell, a lamp and a basket. Every day he put all the letters into the basket and took them to the residents of Humpy Bumpy Street. He was the village postman.
“Can I make your bell ring?” asked Marty the baker when they met. He was already stretching towards the bell when... “No, no, no, you can’t!” cried Tobias as he rushed past Marty. “Can I have a look?” asked the watchmaker, who squatted down when he saw the new bike leaning against the wall of the dairy. “No, no, no, you can’t!” “Oh, what lovely pedals! Can we give them a spin?” passers-by in the park enquired, hurrying over to the bicycle. “No, you can’t!”
...– that was his answer to everything.
o, no,
No, n
no, no, no, no!
o!
No, no, and n
Time passed… Tobias pedalled proudly up and down the hill. “Look how fast I’m going!” he boasted to the others, who were playing football in the field. But nobody took the slightest notice of him. “Hey! See how quickly my wheels are turning!” he shouted again. But nobody cared a jot about that either. They just carried on playing football. Tobias still doesn’t understand why they were not interested...
11
Tater Tale
A
sack of potatoes stood at the side of the dirt road next to a potato field bathed in golden autumn sunshine. It had been left there by the farmer and his men after they had dug up all the spuds and put them in sacks. “They will surely come back,” the sack thought as it stood motionless, rather squashed by the great weight. “I can hardly breathe they’ve packed me so full,” the sack said loudly. “Maybe the men didn’t have any string and soon they will bring some to tie me up. It would be nice to be stored empty in a cool place together with the other sacks.”
However, the sack had no option but to wait patiently while two autumn flies buzzed in the heat of the afternoon. Well, Barnaby certainly was not patient! How could he be when he was the smallest potato in the sack and probably in the whole of Spudland? When you’re young, you tend to be impatient – even if you’re a potato – and terribly curious! During his short life Barnaby had heard a lot about the world above but had only half believed all those stories. Now, however, he could see everything with his own eyes, and everything was happening so fast. Just that morning there had been no sign of anything unusual and there was nothing to suggest he would have such an adventure. And right now he was about to catch sight of ... er ... he didn’t quite know what exactly, but he wanted to see it anyway. Here he could only see the other potatoes, who were quietly resigned to their fate. “If only I were at the mouth of the sack up there,” Barnaby wished. “I would certainly jump off. I’m not as gutless as everyone here.” But escape from the very middle of the sack seemed hopeless. Above, below and all around him there were big fat potatoes pressing against him. The space was tight and only a little light seeped into the hessian sack. Barnaby had tried everything, but all in vain. He couldn’t persuade the others to all heave together in the same direction at the same time. It was a good idea, but everyone just looked at him blankly and only a few moved.
22
“Stop fidgeting, nipper,” grumbled an old potato with a crooked back and a big belly, who had just been woken by his own snoring. “Got ants in your pants?” muttered another one, stopping the conversation with a big yawn. But the little potato was so excited that he couldn’t keep still. He kept wriggling to make his way up towards the top of the sack. He was attracted to it like a moth to a flame. “I just want to peek out,” he told the disgruntled potatoes. “Excuse me, may I get through?” he asked his temporary sackmates politely. However, most of the potatoes disliked his endeavours and pretended not to have heard him. What’s more, some of them deliberately blocked his way. Barnaby now struggled with true determination and slowly but surely he inched towards the exit. This was just too much for the others! The crowd of potatoes, inactive and motionless until now, suddenly all set off to reach the mouth of the sack as if it had been their own idea. The silent sack of potatoes started to resemble the inside of a busy ants’ nest. Everyone was pushing and shoving to get the best places. Little Barnaby began to sink and before long found himself at the very bottom of the sack. Now no one was getting at him and no one envied the spot he was in. He was disappointed and dead tired. His mouth twitched as he was about to burst into tears when he noticed a
23