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UNA HISTORIA DE MAGIA Y AMISTAD.UNA NAVIDAD DISTINTA, COMO NUNCA TE LA CONTARON.¿Qué pasaría si Santa Claus tuviera un hermano? ¿Y si ese hermano fuese el responsable de cuidar y crear la magia de la Navidad?Seguramente te sorprenderia descubrirlo tanto como a Betty. Ella es una niña de Nueva York que ama la fotografia y todos los años se presenta a un concurso que premia la imagen que mejor representa la Navidad. Pero, esta vez, Betty tendra que pasar las fiestas lejos de casa. Su mama es arqueologa y debe viajar junto con su familia a Peru, donde encabezara una importante excavacion en Machu Picchu.Ahi Betty hara un buen amigo, Vicente, y juntos compartiran una aventura extraordinaria. El mundo de Betty se pondra de cabeza cuando descubra a Tayta Claus, carismatico, relajado y soñador, y a su fabrica de magia, a los mukis y a las alpacasvoladoras. Pero, como en toda buena historia, habra un villano y un reto que la pondran a prueba: con la ayuda de Vicente, Betty tendra la dificil mision de SALVAR LA NAVIDAD.

Its all very wellbut you, and I, and most of us who are healthy in mind and blithe of spirit, love to give rein to our fun and fancy, and to mingle fun with our fancy and fancy with our fun.The little Fairy-people are the favourite children of Fancy, and were born into this serious world ages and ages ago to help brighten it, and make it more graceful and dainty and prettily romantic than it was. They found the Folk-lore people already heregrave, learned people whose learning was all topsy-turvy, for it dealt with toads, and storms, and diseases, and what strange things would happen if you mixed them up together, and how the devil would flee if you did something with a herb, and how the tempest would stop suddenly, as Terence records, if you sprinkled a few drops of vinegar in front of it. No doubt, since then thousands of people have sprinkled tens of thousands of gallons of good vinegar before advancing tempests, and although tempests pay far less attention to the liquid than the troubled waters to a pint of oil, the sprinklers and their descendants have gone on believing with a touching faith. It is pretty, but not practical.But what is pretty and practical too, is that all of us should sometimes let our fancy roam, and that we should laugh as well, even over a Fairy-story. Yet there are some serious-minded persons, very grave and very clever, who get angry if a smile so much as creeps into a Fairy-tale, and if our wonder should be disturbed by anything so worldly as a laugh. A Fairy-tale, they say, should be like an old Folk-tale, marked by sincerity and simplicityas if humour cannot be sincere and simple too."The true Fairy-story is not comic." Why not? Of this we may be suretake all the true humourless Fairy-stories and take "Alice"and "Alice" with its fun and fancy will live beside them as long as English stories are read, loved for its fancy and its fun, and hugged and treasured for its jokes and its laughter. The one objection is this: the "true Fairy-story" appeals to all children, young and old, in all lands, equally, by translation; and jokes and fun are sometimes difficult to translate. But that is on account of the shortcomings of language, and it is hard to make young readers suffer by starving them of fun, because the power of words is less absolute than the power of fancy in its merrier mood.

The Boxcar Children is a childrens book series originally created and written by the American first-grade school teacher Gertrude Chandler Warner. The Boxcar Children tells the story of four orphaned children, Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny. They create a home for themselves in an abandoned boxcar in the forest. They eventually meet their grandfather, who is a wealthy and kind man (although the children had believed him to be cruel). The children decide to live with the grandfather, who moves the beloved boxcar to his backyard so the children can use it as a playhouse.When a baker and his wife learn that the children are orphans, they make plans the children dont like. They plan to send the children, who live in a house next door to the bakery, to live with their grandfather, but the children have been brought up to fear their grandfather, whom they have never met, because he did not like their parents marriage. The baker and his wife plan to take the three elder children, who are old enough to be helpful in the bakery, but to send the youngest, Benny to an orphanage.Finding an abandoned boxcar, the children start a new life of work. Henry ends up working in a nearby town called Silver City for a young doctor called Dr. Moore in order to earn money for food and other things they need. He also does gardening for the doctors mother. The childrens lives are nice and full of hard work until Violet becomes ill and they go to the doctor for help.The book was adapted as the film in 2014.

Jazbury came scampering gaily up the stairs to where his mother and Aunt Tabby were sitting on the window-sill washing their faces and cleaning their fur.Jazbury was a small black kitten with white markings on his face and breast, and soft little white paws. Soft as those little paws were there were sharp, needle claws hidden in their velvet, and Jazbury knew how to use them when necessary, too.Mother Bunchs tail hung down from the window-seat, waving softly. It looked almost like a mouse, so soft and grey. Jazbury made a jump, and caught it with his claws. His mother growled and drew her tail up and curled it around her.Jazbury jumped up after it, and tried to tease his mother into playing with him."Jazbury, you havent washed yourself this morning," said his aunt severely. "Look at your paws. Youve been in the coal-bin again, you naughty kitten.""Well, I thought I heard a mouse there," mewed Jazbury.

This book, like the others of this series, has only been rendered possible by the courtesy and complaisance of the various collectors from whom I have culled my treasures. In particular, I have to thank Mr. Larminie and Mr. Eliot Stock for permission to include that fine tale "Morraha" from the formers "West Irish Folk-tales," the chief addition to the Celtic store since the appearance of my last volume. I have again to thank Dr. Hyde for permission to use another tale from his delightful collection. Mr. Curtin has been good enough to place at my disposal another of the tales collected by him in Connaught, and my colleague, Mr. Duncan, has translated for me a droll from the Erse. Above all, I have to thank Mr. Alfred Nutt for constant supervision over my selection and over my comments upon it. Mr. Nutt, by his own researches, and by the encouragement and aid he has given to the researches of others on Celtic folk-lore, has done much to replace the otherwise irreparable loss of Campbell.With this volume I part, at any rate for a time, from the pleasant task which has engaged my attention for the last four years. For the "English" folk-lore district I have attempted to do what the brothers Grimm did for Germany, so far as that was possible at this late day. But for the Celtic area I can claim no such high function; here the materials are so rich that it would tax the resources of a whole clan of Grimms to exhaust the field, and those Celtic Grimms must be Celts themselves, or at any rate fully familiar with the Gaelic. Here then is a task for the newly revived local patriotism of Ireland and the Highlands. I have done little more than spy the land, and bring back some specimen bunches from the Celtic vine. It must be for others, Celts themselves, to enter in and possess the promised land.JOSEPH JACOBS.

Well, when I had been dead about thirty years I begun to get a little anxious. Mind you, had been whizzing through space all that time, like a comet. Like a comet! Why, Peters, I laid over the lot of them! Of course there warnt any of them going my way, as a steady thing, you know, because they travel in a long circle like the loop of a lasso, whereas I was pointed as straight as a dart for the Hereafter; but I happened on one every now and then that was going my way for an hour or so, and then we had a bit of a brush together.But it was generally pretty one-sided, because I sailed by them the same as if they were standing still. An ordinary comet dont make more than about 200,000 miles a minute. Of course when I came across one of that sortlike Enckes and Halleys comets, for instanceit warnt anything but just a flash and a vanish, you see.You couldnt rightly call it a race. It was as if the comet was a gravel-train and I was a telegraph despatch. But after I got outside of our astronomical system, I used to flush a comet occa-sionally that was something like. We havent got any such cometsours dont begin. One night I was swinging along at a good round gait, everything taut and trim, and the wind in my favorI judged I was going about a million miles a minuteit might have been more, it couldnt have been lesswhen I flushed a most uncom-monly big one about three points off my starboard bow.By his stern lights I judged he was bearing about northeast-and-by-north-half-east. Well, it was so near my course that I wouldnt throw away the chance; so I fell off a point, steadied my helm, and went for him. You should have heard me whiz, and seen the electric fur fly!In about a minute and a half I was fringed out with an electrical nimbus that flamed around for miles and miles and lit up all space like broad day. The comet was burning blue in the distance, like a sickly torch, when I first sighted him, but he begun to grow bigger and bigger as I crept up on him. I slipped up on him so fast that when I had gone about 150,000,000 miles I was close enough to be swallowed up in the phosphorescent glory of his wake, and I couldnt see anything for the glare. Thinks I, it wont do to run into him, so I shunted to one side and tore along. By and by I closed up abreast of his tail. Do you know what it was like? It was like a gnat closing up on the continent of America. I forged along.By and by I had sailed along his coast for a little upwards of a hundred and fifty million miles, and then I could see by the shape of him that I hadnt even got up to his waistband yet. Why, Peters, we dont know anything about comets, down here. If you want to see comets that are comets, youve got to go outside of our solar systemwhere theres room for them, you understand. My friend, Ive seen comets out there that couldnt even lay down inside the orbits of our noblest comets without their tails hanging over.

The Chinese Wonder Book contains some of the most beloved Chinese folktales.These stories include:The Golden Beetle orWhy the Dog Hates the CatThe Great BellThe Strange Tale of Doctor DogThe Talking Fish And many other classicsOriginally published in 1919, this book has thrilled and amused children and adults for generations, and served as an accessible introduction to Chinese folklore for countless readers. Included with these fifteen magical Chinese fairy tales are Li Chu Tangs glorious, full-color illustrations original to the books first edition, making this book a historical treasure. This endearing collection of Chinese fables is sure to bring as much joy to todays children as it did to their grandparents.

The Troll Garden is a collection of short stories by Willa Cather, published in 1905. This collection contains the following seven stories:"Flavia and Her Artists""The Sculptors Funeral""A Death in the Desert""The Garden Lodge""The Marriage of Phaedra""A Wagner Matinee""Pauls Case.Four of these stories; The Sculptors Funeral,""A Death in the Desert,""A Wagner Matinee," and "Pauls Case"were revised and included in Cathers next collection of short fiction Youth and the Bright Medusa, published in 1920.

THIS is the true story of Menie and Monnie and their two little dogs, Nip and Tup. Menie and Monnie are twins, and they live far away in the North, near the very edge.They are five years old.Menie is the boy, and Monnie is the girl. But you cannot tell which is Menie and which is Monnie,not even if you look ever so hard at their pictures!That is because they dress alike.When they are a little way off even their own mother cant always tell. And if she cant, who can?Sometimes the twins almost get mixed up about it themselves. And then it is very hard to know which is Nip and which is Tup, because the little dogs are twins too.Nobody was surprised that the little dogs were twins, because dogs often are.But everybody in the whole village where Menie and Monnie live was simply astonished to see twin babies!They had never known of any before in their whole lives.Old Akla, the Angakok, or Medicine Man of the village, shook his head when he heard about them. He said, "Such a thing never happened here before. Seals and human beings never have twins! Theres magic in this."The name of the twins father was Kesshoo. If you say it fast it sounds just like a sneeze. Their mothers name was Koolee. Kesshoo and Koolee, and Menie and Monnie, and Nip and Tup, all live together in the cold Arctic winter in a little stone hut, called an "igloo."In the summer they live in a tent, which they call a "tupik." The winters are very long and cold, and what do you think! They have one night there that is four whole months long!For four long months, while we are having Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and even Lincolns Birthday, the twins never once see the sun!

Under the Irish Sea, fifteen or sixteen miles south-west of the Calf, there is an enchanted isle. Long, long ago it was on the surface of the water - that was in the days when Manannan ruled Mann - but when Saint Patrick drove Manannan and his men from the island in the form of three-legged creatures, they came upon this isle. Manannan dropped it to the bottom of the sea, and they were seen no more.Now it is home of Manannan Mac Lir, Son of the Sea, and he rules it as he used to rule Mann. But once in seven years, when Old May Day is on a Sunday, the isle may be seen. It rises up from the sea just before sunrise, like a beautiful vision, and Manannan looks once more at Ellan Vannin.The hills of the enchanted isle are green, white foam rings it round, and if you are near enough you may see the tossing arms and golden hair of the Mermaids by the waters edge washing their glittering jewels, and hear the singing birds, and smell the fragrant scent of flowers. But as the first rays of the sun rest upon its highest hills, it sinks into the deep, deep sea.There is at least one spot in the world where Fairies are still believed in, and where, if you look in the right places, they may still be found, and that is the little island from which these stories comeEllan Vannin, the Isle of Mann. But I have used a word which should not be mentioned herethey are never called Fairies by the Manx, but Themselves, or the Little People, or the Little Fellows, or the Little Ones, or sometimes even the Lil Boys. These Little People are not the tiny creatures with wings who flutter about in many English Fairy tales, but they are small persons from two to three feet in height, otherwise very like mortals.

Canadian Fairy Tales is a collection of 26 of Native American folk tales gathered from across Canada by Professor Cyrus MacMillan, who did not indicate the origin tribe of each story. The collection was originally published in 1922, and several tales within contain themes of creation. This is MacMillans second collection of fairy tales. Like the Grimms Brothers did in Europe, MacMillan traveled the country seeking tales from the First Nations people in Canada.HOW GLOOSKAP MADE THE BIRDSRABBIT AND THE GRAIN BUYERSSAINT NICHOLAS AND THE CHILDRENTHE FALL OF THE SPIDER MANTHE BOY WHO WAS CALLED THICK-HEADRABBIT AND THE INDIAN CHIEFGREAT HEART AND THE THREE TESTSTHE BOY OF THE RED TWILIGHT SKYHOW RAVEN BROUGHT FIRE TO THE INDIANSTHE GIRL WHO ALWAYS CRIEDERMINE AND THE HUNTERHOW RABBIT DECEIVED FOXTHE BOY AND THE DRAGONOWL WITH THE GREAT HEAD AND EYESTHE TOBACCO FAIRY FROM THE BLUE HILLSRAINBOW AND THE AUTUMN LEAVESRABBIT AND THE MOON-MANTHE CHILDREN WITH ONE EYETHE GIANT WITH THE GREY FEATHERSTHE CRUEL STEPMOTHERTHE BOY WHO WAS SAVED BY THOUGHTSTHE SONG-BIRD AND THE HEALING WATERSTHE BOY WHO OVERCAME THE GIANTSTHE YOUTH AND THE DOG-DANCESPARROWS SEARCH FOR THE RAINTHE BOY IN THE LAND OF SHADOWSThe tales in this collection, like those in "Canadian Wonder Tales," were gathered in various parts of Canadaby river and lake and ocean where sailors and fishermen still watch the stars; in forest clearings where lumbermen yet retain some remnant of the old vanished voyageur life and where Indians still barter for their furs; in remote country places where women spin while they speak with reverence of their fathers days. The skeleton of each story has been left for the most part unchanged, although the language naturally differs somewhat from that of the story-tellers from whose lips the writer heard them.

Swedish fairy-tales represents a careful choice, after the best original sources, of those examples of their kind which not only appeared most colorful and entertaining, but also most racially Swedish in their flavor. For the fairy-tales of each of the three Scandinavian countries, Sweden, Denmark and Norway, have a distinct local color of their own.The wealth of material available has made it possible to give due representation to most types of fairy-tales, from the stories of older origin, the tales of giant, troll, and werewolf, to such delightful tales as "Lasse, My Thrall", and "The Princess and the Glass Mountain," colored with the rich and ornate stylistic garb of medieval chivalric poesy.There has been no attempt to "rewrite" these charming folk-and fairy-tales in the translation. They have been faithfully narrated in the simple, naive manner which their traditional rendering demands. And this is one reason, perhaps, why they should appeal to young American readersfor young America by instinct takes kindly to that which is straightforward and sincere, in the realm of fairy-tale as in life itself.

Thats awfully strange! exclaimed Coppertop.If a Book of Travels cant move about a bit, who can?Not a bit, replied the Book without turning round. I must improve my circulation somehow! And if a book of travels cant move about a bit, who can, I should like to know?Come along, cried Tibbs.While Coppertop was wondering what reply to make, the Book reached out its hand and pulled the blind, which went up with such force that it twirled round and round the roller at the top.What a day for the first of December! exclaimed the Book. Im going to look for something better, and so saying, it sat on the floor and rapidly turned over its own pages, saying as it did so:North, South, East, West,Weathers never at its best.India, Egypt, or Japan,Give us better, if you can.Coppertop blinked at the book of travels, and then at the window, unable to believe her eyes.It was daybreak, and RAINING HARD.Oh dear, oh dear, how dreadfully botherating! she exclaimed, almost in tears.I simply must get a fine December day somehow. It will never do for them to arrive on a soaking wet day like this. Its all the fault of that stupid old clerk of the weather, he does get things so mixed up! Why, this is more like a horrid July day!Thats what it is, muttered the Book of Travels.

THERE are numerous time-honored stories which have become so incorporated into the literature and thought of our race that a knowledge of them is an indispensable part of ones education. These stories are of several different classes. To one class belong the popular fairy tales which have delighted untold generations of children, and will continue to delight them to the end of time. To another class belong the limited number of fables that have come down to us through many channels frorn hoar antiquity. To a third belong the charming stories of olden times that are derived from the literatures of ancient peoples, such as the Greeks and the Hebrews. A fourth class includes the half-legendary tales of a distinctly later origin, which have for their subjects certain romantic episodes in the lives of well-known heroes and famous men, or in the history of a people.It is to this last class that most of the fifty stories contained in the present volume belong. As a matter of course, some of these stories are better known, and therefore more famous, than others. Some have a slight historical value; some are useful as giving point to certain great moral truths; others are products solely of the fancy, and are intended only to amuse. Some are derived from very ancient sources, and are current in the literature of many lands; some have come to us through the ballads and folk tales of the English people.

The continued success of the Jataka Tales," as retold and published ten years ago, has led to this second and companion volume. Who that has read or told stories to children has not been lured on by the subtle flattery of their cry for "more"?Dr. Felix Adler, in his Foreword to "Jataka Tales," says that long ago he was "captivated by the charm of the Jataka Tales." Little children have not only felt this charm, but they have discovered that they can read the stories to themselves. And so "More Jataka Tales" were found in the volume translated from the Sanskrit into English by a group of Cambridge scholars and published by the University Press.The Jataka tales, regarded as historic in the Third Century B. C., are the oldest collection of folk-lore extant. They come down to us from that dim far-off time when our forebears told tales around the same hearthfire on the roof of the world. Professor Rhys Davids speaks of them as a priceless record of the childhood of our race. The same stories are found in Greek, Latin, Arabic, Persian, and in most European languages. The Greek versions of the Jataka tales were adapted and ascribed to the famous storyteller, Aesop, and under his name handed down as a continual feast for the children in the West, tales first invented to please and instruct our far-off cousins in the East." Here East, though East, meets West!A "Guild of Jataka Translators," under Professor E. B. Cowell, professor of Sanskrit in the University of Cambridge, brought out the complete edition of the Jataka between 1895 and 1907. It is from this source that "Jataka Tales" and "More Jataka Tales" have been retold.Of these stories, spread over Europe through literary channels, Professor Cowell says, "They are the stray waifs of literature, in the course of their long wanderings coming to be recognized under widely different aspects, as when they are used by Boccaccio, or Chaucer, or La Fontaine."FELIX ADLER.

Andrew Langs Fairy Books or Andrew Langs "Coloured" Fairy Books constitute a twelve-book series of fairy tale collections. Although Andrew Lang did not collect the stories himself from the oral tradition, the extent of his sources, who had collected them originally (with the notable exception of Madame dAulnoy), made them an immensely influential collection, especially as he used foreign-language sources, giving many of these tales their first appearance in English. As acknowledged in the prefaces, although Lang himself made most of the selections, his wife and other translators did a large portion of the translating and telling of the actual stories. The Blue Fairy Book assembled a wide range of tales, with seven from the Brothers Grimm, five from Madame dAulnoy, three from the Arabian Nights, and four Norse stories, among other sources.Andrew Gabriel Lang was a prolific Scots man of letters. He was a poet, novelist, and literary critic, and a contributor to anthropology. He now is best known as a collector of folk and fairy tales.The Blue Fairy Book was published in 1889 to wide acclaim. The beautiful illustrations and magical tales captivated the minds of children and adults alike. The success of the first book allowed Lang and Leonore to carry on their research and in 1890 they published The Red Fairy Book, which drew on even more sources and had a much larger print run. Between 1889 and 1910 they published twelve collections of fairy tales, each with a different coloured binding, with a total of 437 stories collected, edited and translated.The books are credited with reviving interest in folklore, but more importantly for Lang, they revolutionised the Victorian view of fairy tales - inspiring generations of parents to begin reading them to children once more.THE TALES in this volume are intended for children, who will like, it is hoped, the old stories that have pleased so many generations.The tales of Perrault are printed from the old English version of the eighteenth century. The stories from the Cabinet des Fees and from Madame dAulnoy are translated, or rather adapted, by Miss Minnie Wright, who has also, by M. Henri Carnoys kind permission, rendered "The Bronze Ring" from his Traditions Populaires de lAsie Mineure (Maisonneuve, Paris, 1889).The stories from Grimm are translated by Miss May Sellar; another from the German by Miss Sylvia Hunt; the Norse tales are a version by Mrs. Alfred Hunt; "The Terrible Head" is adapted from Apollodorus, Simonides, and Pindar by the Editor; Miss Violet Hunt condensed "Aladdin"; Miss May Kendall did the same for Gullivers Travels; "The Fairy Paribanou" is abridged from the old English translation of Galland.Messrs. Chambers have kindly allowed us to reprint "The Red Etin" and "The Black Bull of Norroway" from Mr. Robert Chambers Popular Traditions of Scotland."Dick Whittington" is from the chap book edited by Mr. Gomme and Mr. Wheatley for the Villon Society; "Jack the Giant-Killer" is from a chap book, but a good version of this old favourite is hard to procure.

THIS BOOK is written for all little lads and lasses, but especially for the former, since it is the truequite truestory of a little lad who lived to be, perhaps, the greatest king this world has ever seen.It is a strange, wild tale this of the adventures of Prince Akbar among the snowy mountains between Kandahar and Kabul, and though the names may be a bit of a puzzle at first, as they will have to be learned by and bye in geography and history lessons, it might be as well to get familiar with them in a story-book; though, indeed, as everybody in it except Roy the Rajput, Meroo the cook boy; Tumbu, the dog; and Down, the cat (and these four may have been true, you know, though they have not been remembered) really lived, I dont know whether this book oughtnt to be considered real history, and thereforeA LESSON BOOK:"Anyhow, I hope you wont find it dull."STORIES:FAREWELLTHE FIRST VICTORYTHE ROYAL UMBRELLATUMBU-DOWNON THE ROADAT COURTWINTERDOWNS STRATAGEMSPRINGTHE NIGHT OF RECORDA WINTER MARCHSNOW AND ICEOVER THE PASSIN THE VALLEYDEAREST-LADYCRUEL BROTHER KUMRANIMPRISONMENTTHE GARDEN OF GAMESBETWIXT CUP AND LIPESCAPEDDAWN

The stories begin with those which children like bestthe old Blue Beard, Puss in Boots, Hop o my Thumb, Little Red Riding Hood, The Sleeping Beauty, and Toads and Pearls. These were first collected, written, and printed at Paris in 1697.The author was Monsieur Charles Perrault, a famous personage in a great perruque, who in his day wrote large volumes now unread. He never dreamed that he was to be remembered mainly by the shabby little volume with the tiny headpiece pictureshow unlike the fairy way of drawing by Mr. Ford, said to be known as Over-the-wall Ford among authors who play cricket, because of the force with which he swipes!Perrault picked up the rustic tales which the nurse of his little boy used to tell, and he told them again in his own courtly, witty way. They do not seem to have been translated into English until nearly thirty years later, when they were published in English, with the French on the opposite page, by a Mr. Pote, a bookseller at Eton. Probably the younger Eton boys learned as much French as they condescended to acquire from these fairy tales, which are certainly more amusing than the Telemaque of Messire François de Salignac de la Motte-Fenelon, tutor of the children of France, Archbishop Duke of Cambrai, and Prince of the Holy Roman Empire.The success of Perrault was based on the pleasure which the court of Louis XIV. took in fairy tales; we know that they were told among Court ladies, from a letter of Madame de Sevigne. Naturally, Perrault had imitators, such as Madame dAulnoy, a wandering lady of more wit than reputation. To her we owe Beauty and the Beast and The Yellow Dwarf. Anthony Hamilton tried his hand with The Ram, a story too prolix and confused, best remembered for the remark, Ram, my friend, begin at the beginning! Indeed, the narrative style of the Ram is lacking in lucidity!Then came The Arabian Nights, translated by Monsieur Galland. Nobody has translated The Arabian Nights so well as Galland. His is the reverse of a scientific rendering, but it is as pleasantly readable as the Iliad and Odyssey would be if Alexandre Dumas had kept his promise to translate Homer. Galland omitted the verses and a great number of passages which nobody would miss, though the anthropologist is supposed to find them valuable and instructive in later scientific translations which do not amuse. Later, Persian Tales, Tales of the Sea, and original inventions, more or less on the fairy model, were composed by industrious men and women.They are far too longare novels, indeed, and would please no child or mature person of taste. All these were collected in the vast Fairy Cabinet, published in 1786, just before the Revolution. Probably their attempt to be simple charmed a society which was extremely artificial, talked about the simple life and the state of nature, and was on the eve of a revolution in which human nature revealed her most primitive traits in orgies of blood.

Here we are! And now I will wind the clock. Gurr! gurr! gurr! Tick-tock! tick-tock!I PUT on my dream-cap one day and stepped into Wonderland.Along the road I jogged and never dusted my shoes, and all the time the pleasant sun shone and never burned my back, and the little white clouds floated across the blue sky and never let fall a drop of rain to wet my jacket. And by and by I came to a steep hill.I climbed the hill, though I had more than one tumble in doing it, and there, on the tip-top, I found a house as old as the world itself. That was where Father Time lived; and who should sit in the sun at the door, spinning away for dear life, but Times Grandmother herself; and if you would like to know how old she is you will have to climb to the top of the church steeple and ask the wind as he sits upon the weather-cock, humming the tune of Over-yonder song to himself."Good-morning," says Times Grandmother to me."Good-morning," says I to her."And what do you seek here?" says she to me."I come to look for odds and ends," says I to her."Very well," says she; "just climb the stairs to the garret, and there you will find more than ten men can think about."

MANY of the tales in this collection appeared either in the Indian Antiquary, the Calcutta Review, or the Legends of the Punjab. They were then in the form of literal translations, in many cases uncouth or even unpresentable to ears polite, in all scarcely intelligible to the untravelled English reader; for it must be remembered that, with the exception of the Adventures of Raja Rasalu, all these stories are strictly folk-tales passing current among a people who can neither read nor write, and whose diction is full of colloquialisms, and, if we choose to call them so, vulgarisms. It would be manifestly unfair, for instance, to compare the literary standard of such tales with that of the Arabian Nights, the Tales of a Parrot, or similar works.The manner in which these stories were collected is in itself sufficient to show how misleading it would be, if, with the intention of giving the conventional Eastern flavour to the text, it were to be manipulated into a flowery dignity; and as a description of the procedure will serve the double purpose of credential and excuse, the authors give it,premising that all the stories but three have been collected by Mrs. F. A. Steel during winter tours through the various districts of which her husband has been Chief Magistrate.- SIR BUZZ- THE RATS WEDDING- THE FAITHFUL PRINCE- THE BEARS BAD BARGAIN- PRINCE LIONHEART AND HIS THREE FRIENDS- THE LAMBIKIN- BOPOLUCHI- PRINCESS AUBERGINE- VALIANT VICKY, THE BRAVE WEAVER- THE SON OF SEVEN MOTHERS- THE SPARROW AND THE CROW- THE TIGER, THE BRAHMAN, AND THE JACKAL- THE KING OF THE CROCODILES- LITTLE ANKLEBONE- THE CLOSE ALLIANCE- THE TWO BROTHERS- THE JACKAL AND THE IGUANA- THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF POOR HEN-SPARROW- PRINCESS PEPPERINA- PEASIE AND BEANSIE- THE JACKAL AND THE PARTRIDGE- THE SNAKE-WOMAN AND KING ALI MARDAN- THE WONDERFUL RING- THE JACKAL AND THE PEA-HEN- THE GRAIN OF CORN- THE FARMER AND THE MONEY-LENDER- THE LORD OF DEATH- THE WRESTLERS- THE LEGEND OF GWASHBRARI, THE GLACIER-HEARTED QUEEN- THE BARBERS CLEVER WIFE- THE JACKAL AND THE CROCODILE- HOW RAJA RASALU WAS BORN- HOW RAJA RASALU WENT OUT INTO THE WORLD- HOW RAJA RASALUS FRIENDS FORSOOK HIM- HOW RAJA RASALU KILLED THE GIANTS- HOW RAJA RASALU BECAME A JOGI- HOW RAJA RASALU JOURNEYED TO THE CITY OF - KING SARKAP- HOW RAJA RASALU SWUNG THE SEVENTY FAIR MAIDENS, DAUGHTERS OF THE KING- HOW RAJA RASALU PLAYED CHAUPUR WITH KING SARKAP- THE KING WHO WAS FRIED- PRINCE HALF-A-SON- THE MOTHER AND DAUGHTER WHO WORSHIPPED THE SUN- THE RUBY PRINCE