seligorscastle the home of diddily dee dots sleepy childrens bedtime stories Woodmaiden
The Children Of The Sky
In the morning of the world an angel was sent on a message to a holy man dwelling in a desert in Persia. But as the angel was flying through the air he saw a beautiful Persian girl sitting by the side of a well braiding her hair with blue forget-me-nots. He came down and made love to her and they lived very happily together. Suddenly the angel remembered that he had not delivered the message with which he had been entrusted. He flew back to heaven to ask pardon for his forgetfulnes, but he found that the gate was closed to him. For a long time he stood by the closed gate weeping, and then the Archangel Gabriel appeared, and said, "You must people the Earth with the Children of the Sky before you can bring a daughter of the Earth into Heaven. The angel did not understand what this meant, and he asked his beautiful bride if she could explain it to him. "Yes," she replied, taking some of the flowers from her hair. "These lovely little forget-me-nots, which reflect the exquisite colour of Heaven, are the Children of the Sky." So the angel and his bride wandered hand in hand over the Earth, and planted forget-me-nots in every country. Then when their task was ended, the angel took his bride in his arms and carried her up to the gates of Heaven, which were open unto them.
HERO AND LEANDER
When Hero was a little girl her parents dedicated her to be a priestess in the temple of Venus at Sestus. There she grew up, very lovely, and content with her solemn duties. But one day she noticed among the worshippers a dark and handsome youth who looked a king among athletes. She learned that his name was Leander, and that he dwelled across the strait, in Abydus. After their first sighting Leander often came over with offerings for the shrine and it wasn't long before, they fell in love.
However all was not simple for Hero falling in love was impossible. She
found that because of her parents dediction to Venus she was bound to
the temple for life. She could never marry! If it was even suspected by
her parents, that she was in love with Leander she would have to
suffer a terrible death. As much as they tried the young lovers
could not be kept apart, and every evening when nightfall decended
Leander would swim the Hellespont, while Hero held a torch on the shore
to guide him. Every night they would sit in the lee of the rocks,
talking of their lives apart from each other. None knew of their secret
meetings save one, a very dear friend of Leander's. A stormy
night came. The sea ran high. No other man would have attempted the
crossing, but Hero on the opposite bank saw his lantern and hurridly
lit her own torch, so he could see her in the tempest. Many timesthe torch went out, and many times she rekindled it, during the hours she waited, till, drenched to the skin and agonised with suspence she watched the white foam tops of the black sea waiting, waiting for Leander to come. He never came. She prayed to the Gods, that he had seen how rough the sea was, and that he had wisely turned back to Abydus, but soon the news was brought to her that his dead body had been washed up on the shore. Hero, ran to the highest cliff above the temple and looking down she saw Leanders broken body. Hero flung herself off the cliffs near Sestus and they found her body entwined with that of the man she loved, but loved in vain.
This information and picture was presented by Wikipaedia
Artist
William Etty
Title
English: Hero and Leander
Year
1829-9
Technique
Oil on canvas
Dimensions
h 77 x w 95 cm
Current location
Private collection
Notes
English:
Each night Leander would swim across a streach of sea to meet his lover
Hero, a priestess of Aphrodite. She would guide him by holding up a
lighted torch. One night, during a storm, Leander drowned. The
grief-stricken Hero threw herself from a tower. Here, the two dead
lovers are shown in their tragic, final embrace, as their lives drift
away. The tones of their glowing, sensual skin are set off against a
sombre sea and storm clouds. The black hair and drapery of Hero seem to
merge into the dark shadows.
Before the Wood-Maiden I would like to invite you all to come down to the deep South of America with me and meet Uncle Remus.
The Tales of Uncle Remus were wrote by Joel Chandler Harris and were the largest single collection of Afro-American folktales Joel Chandler Harris ever collected and published. Between 1896 and 1918 he published around 260 tales in eight volumes, all of them black folktales. I absolutely adored the tales of Brer Rabbit and my most favourite of all of them was and still is Brer Rabbit and the Tar Baby. I used to get my mum or dad to read it to me over and over again, then when my sisters were old enough, I had them, read it as well, otherwise I cried until they felt sorry for me. Yes, I know I was a naughty girl, but I did so love the story. I hope you find it just as good. It mightn't be exactly the same as the one Uncle Remus wrote but it is how I remember it as retold by:-
Catharine Farrell from a story
retold by Joel Chandler Harris
Brer Fox and The Tar Baby
One day Brer Fox thought of how Brer Rabbit
had been cutting up his capers and bouncing around until he'd
come to believe that he was the boss of the whole gang. Brer
Fox thought of a way to lay some bait for that uppity Brer
Rabbit.
He went to work and got some tar and mixed
it with some turpentine. He fixed up a contraption that he
called a Tar-Baby. When he finished making her, he put a
straw hat on her head and sat the little thing in the middle
of the road. Brer Fox, he lay off in the bushes to see what
would happen.
Well, he didn't have to wait long either,
'cause by and by Brer Rabbit came pacing down the
road--lippity-clippity, clippity-lippity--just as sassy as a
jaybird. Brer Fox, he lay low. Brer Rabbit came prancing
along until he saw the Tar-Baby and then he sat back on his
hind legs like he was astonished. The Tar-Baby just sat
there, she did, and Brer Fox, he lay low.
"Good morning!" says Brer Rabbit,
says he. "Nice weather we're having this morning,"
says he.
Tar-Baby didn't say a word, and Brer Fox,
he lay low.
"How are you feeling this
morning?" says Brer Rabbit, says he.
Brer Fox, he winked his eye real slow and
lay low and the Tar-Baby didn't say a thing.
"What is the matter with you then? Are
you deaf?" says Brer Rabbit, says he. "Cause if you
are, I can holler louder," says he.
The Tar-Baby stayed still and Brer Fox, he
lay low.
"You're stuck-up, that's what's wrong
with you. You think you're too good to talk to me," says
Brer Rabbit, says he. "And I'm going to cure you, that's
what I'm going to do," says he.
Brer Fox started to chuckle in his stomach,
he did, but Tar-Baby didn't say a word.
"I'm going to teach you how to talk to
respectable folks if it's my last act," says Brer
Rabbit, says he. "If you don't take off that hat and say
howdy, I'm going to bust you wide open," says he.
Tar-Baby stayed still and Brer Fox, he lay
low.
Brer Rabbit kept on asking her why she
wouldn't talk and the Tar-Baby kept on saying nothing until
Brer Rabbit finally drew back his fist, he did, and blip--he
hit the Tar-Baby on the jaw. But his fist stuck and he
couldn't pull it loose. The tar held him. But Tar-Baby, she
stayed still, and Brer Fox, he lay low.
"If you don't let me loose, I'm going
to hit you again," says Brer Rabbit, says he, and with
that he drew back his other fist and blap--he hit the
Tar-Baby with the other hand and that one stuck fast too.
Tar-Baby she stayed still, and Brer Fox, he
lay low.
"Turn me loose, before I kick the
natural stuffing out of you," says Brer Rabbit, says he,
but the Tar-Baby just sat there.
She just held on and then Brer Rabbit
jumped her with both his feet. Brer Fox, he lay low. Then
Brer Rabbit yelled out that if that Tar-Baby didn't turn him
loose, he was going to butt her crank-sided. Then he butted
her and his head got stuck.
Brer Fox walked out from behind the bushes
and strolled over to Brer Rabbit, looking as innocent as a
mockingbird.
"Howdy, Brer Rabbit," says Brer
Fox, says he. "You look sort of stuck up this
morning," says he. And he rolled on the ground and
laughed and laughed until he couldn't laugh anymore.
By and by he said, "Well, I expect I
got you this time, Brer Rabbit," says he. "Maybe I
don't, but I expect I do. You've been around here sassing
after me a mighty long time, but now it's the end.
And then you're always getting into
something that's none of your business," says Brer Fox,
says he. "Who asked you to come and strike up a
conversation with this Tar-Baby? And who stuck you up the way
you are? Nobody in the round world. You just jammed yourself
into that Tar-Baby without waiting for an invitation,"
says Brer Fox, says he. "There you are and there you'll
stay until I fix up a brushpile and fire it up, "cause
I'm going to barbecue you today, for sure," says Brer
Fox, says he.
Then Brer Rabbit started talking mighty
humble.
"I don't care what you do with me,
Brer Fox, says he, "Just so you don't fling me in that
briar patch. Roast me, Brer Fox, says he, "But don't
fling me in that briar patch."
"It's so much trouble to kindle a
fire," says Brer Fox, says he, "that I expect I'd
better hang you," says he.
"Hang me just as high as you please,
Brer Fox, says Brer Rabbit, says he, "but for the Lord's
sake, don't fling me in that briar patch," says he.
"I don't have any string, " says
Brer Fox, says he, "Now I expect I had better drown you,
" says he.
"Drown me just as deep as you please,
Brer Fox," says Brer Rabbit, says he, "But please
do not fling me in that briar patch, " says he.
"There's no water near here,"
says Brer Fox, says he, "And now I reckon I'd better
skin you," says he.
"Skin me Brer Fox," says he.
"Snatch out my eyeballs, tear out my ears by the
roots," says he, "But please, Brer Fox, don't fling
me in that briar patch, " says he.
Of course, Brer Fox wanted to get Brer
Rabbit as bad as he could, so he caught him by the behind
legs and slung him right in the middle of the briar patch.
There was a considerable flutter when Brer Rabbit struck the
bushes, and Brer Fox hung around to see what was going to
happen.
By and by he heard someone call his name
and 'way up on the hill he saw Brer Rabbit sitting
cross-legged on a chinquapin log combing the tar pitch out of
his hair with a chip. Then Brer Fox knew he had been tricked.
Uncle Remustelling the stories to a Little Girl
Then Brer Rabbit hollered out, " I was Born and
bred in the briar patch!" And with that he skipped out just as lively as a
cricket in the embers of a fire.
THIS HAS GOT TO BE ONE OF THE MOST WONDERFUL JAPANESE TALES YOU WILL EVER SEE
IT IS THE STORY OF TWO LITTLE GIRLS WHO MOVE WITH THEIR FATHER TO A NEW HOUSE IN THE COUNTRY SIDE. IT IS IN JAPANESE WITH SUBTILES AND COMES FROM THE PEN OF THE ONE AND ONLY STUDIO GHIBLI. ENJOY THIS STORY BEFORE GOING ON TO READ THE WONDERFUL WOODMAIDEN
THE WOOD MAIDEN
An Old Fairy Tale
BETUSHKA was a little girl. Her mother was
a poor widow with nothing but a tumble-down
cottage and two little nanny-goats. But poor as they
were Betushka was always cheerful. From spring till
autumn she pastured the goats in the birch wood.
Every morning when she left home her mother gave
her a little basket with a slice of bread and a spindle. "See that you bring home a full spindle," her
mother always said. Betushka had no distaff, so she wound the flax
around her head. Then she took the little basket
and went romping and singing behind the goats to the
birch wood. When they got there she sat down under
a tree and pulled the fibers of the flax from her head
with her left hand, and with her right hand let down
the spindle so that it went humming along the ground.
All the while she sang until the woods echoed and the
little goats nibbled away at the leaves and grass. When the sun showed midday, she put the spindle aside, called the goats and gave them a mouthful of
bread so that they wouldn't stray, and ran off into the
woods to hunt berries or any other wild fruit that
was in season. Then when she had finished her bread
and fruit, she jumped up, folded her arms, and danced
and sang. The sun smiled at her through the green of the
trees and the little goats, resting on the grass, thought:
"What a merry little shepherdess we have!" After her dance she went back to her spinning and
worked industriously. In the evening when she got
home her mother never had to scold her because the
spindle was empty.
One day at noon just after she had eaten and, as
usual, was going to dance, there suddenly stood before
her a most beautiful maiden. She was dressed in
white gauze that was as fine as a spider's web. Long
golden hair fell down to her waist and on her head
she wore a wreath of woodland flowers.
Betushka was speechless with surprise and alarm. The maiden smiled at her and said in a sweet
voice. "Betushka, do you like to dance?" Her manner was so gracious that Betushka no longer felt afraid, and answered. "Oh, I could dance all day long!" "Come, then, let us dance together," said the
maiden. "I'll teach you."
With that she tucked up her skirt, put her arm
about Betushka's waist, and they began to dance. At
once such enchanting music sounded over their heads
that Betushka's heart went one-two with the dancing.
The musicians sat on the branches of the birch trees.
They were clad in little frock coats, black and gray
and many-colored. It was a carefully chosen orchestra
that had gathered at the bidding of the beautiful
maiden: larks, nightingales, finches, linnets, thrushes,
blackbirds, and showy mocking-birds.
Betushka's cheeks burned, her eyes shone. She
forgot her spinning, she forgot her goats. All she could do was gaze at
her partner who was moving with such grace and lightness that the grass
didn't seem to bend under her slender feet.
They danced from noon till sundown and yet Betushka wasn't the least
bit tired. Then they stopped dancing, the music ceased, and the maiden
disappeared as suddenly as she had come. Betushka looked around. The sun was sinking
behind the wood. She put her hands to the unspun flax
on her head and remembered the spindle that was lying unfilled on the grass. She took down the flax
and laid it with the spindle in the little basket. Then
she called the goats and started home.
She reproached herself bitterly that she had allowed the
beautiful maiden to beguile her and she
told herself that another time she would not listen
to her. She was so quiet that the little goats, missing
her merry song, looked around to see whether it was
really their own little shepherdess who was following
them. Her mother, too, wondered why she didn't
sing and questioned her.
"Are you sick, Betushka?"
"No, dear mother, I'm not sick, but I've been
singing too much and my throat is dry." She knew that her mother did not reel the yarn
at once, so she hid the spindle and the unspun flax,
hoping to make up tomorrow what she had not done
today. She did not tell her mother one word about
the beautiful maiden.
The next day she felt cheerful again and as she
drove the goats to pasture she sang merrily. At the
birch wood she sat down to her spinning, singing all
the while, for with a song on the lips work falls from
the hands more easily. Noonday came. Betushka gave a bit of bread to each of the goats and ran off to the woods for her
berries. Then she ate her lunch. "Ah, my little goats," she sighed, as she brushed
up the crumbs for the birds, "I mustn't dance today." "Why mustn't you dance today?" a sweet voice
asked, and there stood the beautiful maiden as though
she had fallen from the clouds.
Betushka was worse frightened than before and
she closed her eyes tight. When the maiden repeated
her question, Betushka answered timidly. "Forgive me, beautiful lady, for not dancing with
you. If I dance with you I cannot spin my stint
and then my mother will scold me. Today before the
sun sets I must make up for what I lost yesterday."
"Come, child, and dance," the maiden said.
"Before the sun sets we'll find some way of getting that
spinning done!"
She tucked up her skirt, put her arm about Betushka,
the musicians in the treetops struck up, and off
they whirled. The maiden danced more beautifully
than ever. Betushka couldn't take her eyes from her.
She forgot her goats, she forgot her spinning. All she
wanted to do was to dance on forever.
At sundown the maiden paused and the music
stopped. Then Betushka, clasping her hands to her head, where the
unspun flax was twined, burst
into tears. The beautiful maiden took the flax from her head, wound it
round the stem of a slender birch, grasped the spindle, and began to
spin. The spindle hummed along the ground and filled in no time. Before
the sun sank behind the woods all the flax was
spun, even that which was left over from the day before. The maiden
handed Betushka the full spindle and said:
Reel and grumble not, Keel and grumble not!"
When she said this, she vanished as if the earth
had swallowed her.
Betushka was very happy now and she thought to
herself on her way home: "Since she is so good and
kind, I'll dance with her again if she asks me. Oh,
how I hope she does!" She sang her merry little song as usual and the
goats trotted cheerfully along.
She found her mother vexed with her, for she had
wanted to reel yesterday's yarn and had discovered
that the spindle was not full.
"What were you doing yesterday," she scolded,
"that you didn't spin your stint?" Betushka hung her head. "Forgive me, mother.
I danced too long." Then she showed her mother
today's spindle and said: "See, today I more than
a made up for yesterday."
Her mother said no more but went to milk the
goats and Betushka put away the spindle. She wanted
to tell her mother her adventure, but she thought to
herself: "No, I'll wait. If the beautiful lady comes
again, I'll ask her who she is and then I'll tell mother."
So she said nothing.
On the third morning she drove the goats as usual
to the birch wood. The goats went to pasture and
Betushka, sitting down under a tree, began to spin
and sing. When the sun pointed to noon, she laid her
spindle on the grass, gave the goats a mouthful of
bread, gathered some strawberries, ate her luncheon,
and then, giving the crumbs to the birds, she said
cheerily:
"Today, my little goats, I will dance for you!"
She jumped up, folded her arms, and was about
to see whether she could move as gracefully as the
beautiful maiden, when the maiden herself stood
before her.
"Let us dance together," she said. She smiled
at Betushka, put her arm about her, and as the music
above their heads began to play, they whirled round
and round with flying feet. Again Betushka forgot
the spindle and the goats. Again she saw nothing but
the beautiful maiden whose body was lithe as a willow
shoot. Again she heard nothing but the enchanting
music to which her feet danced of themselves. They danced from noon till sundown. Then the
maiden paused and the music ceased. Betushka looked
around. The sun was already set behind the woods.
She clasped her hands to her head and looking down
at the unfilled spindle she burst into tears.
"Oh, what will my mother say?" she cried.
"Give me your little basket," the maiden said,
"and I will put something in it that will more than
make up for today's stint."
Betushka handed her the basket and the maiden
took it and vanished. In a moment she was back.
She returned the basket and said.
"Look not inside until you're home! "Look not inside until you're home!
As she said these words she was gone as if a wind
had blown her away.
Betushka wanted awfully to peep inside but she
was afraid to. The basket was so light that she
wondered whether there was anything at all in it.
Was the lovely lady only fooling her? Halfway home
she peeped in to see. Imagine her feelings when she found the basket
was full of birch leaves! Then indeed did Betushka
burst into tears and reproach herself for being so
simple. In her vexation she threw out a handful of
leaves and was going to empty the basket when she
thought to herself:
"No, I'll keep what's left as litter for the goats."
She was almost afraid to go home. She was so quiet that again the little goats wondered what ailed their shepherdess. Her mother was waiting for her in great excitement. "For heaven's sake, Betushka, what kind of spool
did you bring home yesterday?"
"Why?" Betushka faltered. "When you went away this morning I started to
reel that yarn. I reeled and reeled and the spool remained full. One skein, two skeins, three skeins, and
still the spool was full. 'What evil spirit has spun
that?' I cried out impatiently, and instantly the yarn disappeared from the spindle as if blown away. Tell
me, what does it mean?"
So Betushka confessed and told her mother all she
knew about the beautiful maiden. "Oh," cried her mother in amazement, "that was
a wood maiden! At noon and midnight the wood
maidens dance. It is well you are not a little boy or
she might have danced you to death! But they are
often kind to little girls and sometimes make them
rich presents. Why didn't you tell me? If I hadn't
grumbled, I could have had yarn enough to fill the
house!"
Betushka thought of the little basket and wondered
if there might be something under the leaves. She
took out the spindle and unspun flax and looked in
once more.
"Mother!" she cried. "Come here and see!"
Her mother looked and clapped her hands. The
birch leaves were all turned to gold!
Betushka reproached herself bitterly: "She told
me not to look inside until I got home, but I didn't
obey."
"It's lucky you didn't empty the whole basket,"
her mother said. The next morning she herself went to look for the
handful of leaves that Betushka had thrown away.
She found them still lying in the road but they were
only birch leaves. But the riches which Betushka brought home were
enough. Her mother bought a farm with fields and
cattle. Betushka had pretty clothes and no longer
had to pasture goats.
But no matter what she did, no matter how cheerful
and happy she was, still nothing ever again gave
her quite so much pleasure as the dance with the
wood maiden.
She often went to the birch wood in
the hope of seeing the maiden again. But she never
did.