Part 1

Transcriber's Note: Underscores “_before and after_” a word or phrase indicate _italics_ in the original text. Equal signs “=” before and after a word or phrase indicate =bold= in the original text. The carat symbol “^” is used to designate a superscripted character. Small capitals have been converted to SOLID capitals. Old or antiquated spellings have been preserved. Typographical errors have been silently corrected but other variations in spelling and punctuation remain unaltered. The unnumbered footnote in THE TWO ALMS has been moved from the bottom of the page to just below the title.

THE TOPAZ STORY BOOK

_Stories and Legends of_ _Autumn, Hallowe’en, and Thanksgiving_

COMPILED BY ADA M. SKINNER AND ELEANOR L. SKINNER

_Editors of “The Emerald Story Book” “Merry Tales”_ _“Nursery Tales from Many Lands”_

FRONTISPIECE BY MAXFIELD PARRISH

NEW YORK DUFFIELD & COMPANY 1928

Copyright, 1917, by DUFFIELD & CO. Fifth Edition, 1928

INTRODUCTION

Nature stories, legends, and poems appeal to the young reader’s interest in various ways. Some of them suggest or reveal certain facts which stimulate a spirit of investigation and attract the child’s attention to the beauty and mystery of the world. Others serve an excellent purpose by quickening his sense of humour.

Seedtime and harvest have always been seasons of absorbing interest and have furnished the story-teller with rich themes. The selections in “The Emerald Story Book” emphasize the hope and premise of the spring; the stories, legends, and poems in this volume, “The Topaz Story Book,” express the joy and blessing which attend the harvest-time when the fields are rich in golden grain and the orchard boughs bend low with mellow fruit. “The year’s work is done. She walks in gorgeous apparel, looking upon her long labour and her serene eye saith, ‘It is good.’”

The editors’ thanks are due to the following authors and publishers for the use of valuable material in this book:

To Dr. Carl S. Patton of the First Congregational Church, Columbus, Ohio, for permission to include his story, “The Pretending Woodchuck”; to Frances Jenkins Olcott for “The Green Corn Dance,” retold from “The Journal of American Folk-Lore,” published by Houghton, Mifflin Company; to Ernest Thompson Seton and the Century Company for “How the Chestnut Burrs Became”; to Dr. J. Dynelly Prince for permission to retell the legend of “Nipon” from “Kuloskap the Master”; to Thomas Nelson and Sons for “Weeds,” by Carl Ewald; to William Herbert Carruth for the selection from “Each In His Own Tongue”; to Josephine K. Dodge for two poems by Mary Mapes Dodge; to A. Flanagan Company for “Golden-rod and Purple Aster,” from “Nature Myths and Stories,” by Flora J. Cooke; to J. B. Lippincott Company for “The Willow and the Bamboo,” from “Myths and Legends of the Flowers and Trees,” by Chas. M. Skinner; to Bobbs, Merrill Company for the selection by James Whitcomb Riley; to Lothrop, Lee, and Shepard Company for “The Pumpkin Giant,” from “The Pot of Gold,” by Mary Wilkins Freeman; to Raymond Macdonald Alden for “Lost: The Summer”; to the _Youth’s Companion_ for “A Turkey for the Stuffing,” by Katherine Grace Hulbert, and “The News,” by Persis Gardiner; to John S. P. Alcott for “Queen Aster,” by Louisa M. Alcott; to G. P. Putnam’s Sons for two poems from “Red Apples and Silver Bells,” by Hamish Henry; to Francis Curtis and _St. Nicholas_ for “The Debut of Daniel Webster,” by Isabel Gordon Curtis; to Emma F. Bush and _Mothers’ Magazine_ for “The Little Pumpkin”; to Phila Butler Bowman and _Mothers’ Magazine_ for “The Queer Little Baker Man”; to the _Independent_ for “The Crown of the Year,” by Celia Thaxter; to Ginn and Company for “Winter’s Herald,” from Andrew’s “The Story of My Four Friends”; to Frederick A. Stokes Company for “Lady White and Lady Yellow,” from “Myths and Legends of Japan”; to the State Museum, Albany, New York, for permission to reprint the legend “O-na-tah, Spirit of the Corn,” published in the _Museum Bulletin_; to Houghton, Mifflin Company for “The Sickle Moon,” by Abbie Farwell Brown; “Autumn Among the Birds” and “Autumn Fashions” by Edith M. Thomas, “The Nutcrackers of Nutcracker Lodge” by Harriet Beecher Stowe, and “The Three Golden Apples” by Nathaniel Hawthorne; and to Duffield and Company for “The Story of the Opal” by Ann de Morgan.

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

AUTUMN STORIES AND LEGENDS

PAGE Each in His Own Tongue (selection)-- _William Herbert Carruth_ 2 Nipon and the King of the Northland (Algonquin Legend) Retold from Leland and Prince-- _Eleanor L. Skinner_ 3 Prince Autumn (Translated from the Danish by Alexandre Teixeira de Mattos) _Carl Ewald_ 12 The Scarf of the Lady (adapted) (Translated from the French by Hermine de Nagy) 24 The Sickle Moon (Tyrolean harvest legend)-- _Abbie Farwell Brown_ 30 Winter’s Herald _Jane Andrews_ 35 Jack Frost (poem) 42 The Pumpkin Giant _Mary Wilkins Freeman_ 44 Lady White and Lady Yellow (Japanese Legend)-- _Frederick Hadland Davis_ 62 The Shet-up Posy _Ann Trumbull Slosson_ 66 The Gay Little King _Mary Stewart_ 73 The Story of the Opal _Ann de Morgan_ 83 Selection _Celia Thaxter_ 97 Lost: The Summer (poem)-- _Raymond Macdonald Alden_ 98 By the Wayside (poem) _William Cullen Bryant_ 99 The King’s Candles (German legend)--_Eleanor L. Skinner_ 100 A Legend of the Golden-Rod--_Frances Weld Danielson_ 106 Golden-Rod (poem) _Anna E. Skinner_ 109 The Little Weed 110 Golden-Rod and Purple Aster (adapted)--_Flora J. Cooke_ 112 Wild Asters (poem) 115 Silver-rod _Edith M. Thomas_ 116 Pimpernel, the Shepherd’s Clock (poem) 118 A Legend of the Gentian (Hungarian) _Ada M. Skinner_ 119 Queen Aster _Louisa M. Alcott_ 121 The Weeds _Carl Ewald_ 134 Autumn Fires (poem) _Robert Louis Stevenson_ 144

AMONG THE TREES

To An Autumn Leaf (poem) 146 Why the Autumn Leaves Are Red (Indian legend)-- Retold and adapted by _Eleanor Newcomb Partridge_ 147 The Anxious Leaf _Henry Ward Beecher_ 154 How the Chestnut Burrs Became-- _Ernest Thompson-Seton_ 156 The Merry Wind (poem) _Mary Mapes Dodge_ 158 Autumn Among the Birds _Edith M. Thomas_ 159 The Kind Old Oak _Selected_ 163 The Tree (poem) _Björnstjerne Björnson_ 165 Coming and Going _Henry Ward Beecher_ 166 A Legend of the Willow Tree (Japanese) 170 Autumn Fashions (poem) _Edith M. Thomas_ 173 Pomona’s Best Gift (Old English Song) 175

Pomona (Greek myth retold from Ovid)-- _Ada M. Skinner_ 176 In the Orchard (poem) _George Weatherby_ 180 Johnny Appleseed _Josephine Scribner Gates_ 181 Red Apple (poem) _Hamish Hendry_ 185 The Three Golden Apples _Nathaniel Hawthorne_ 186 October: Orchard of the Year _Selected_ 211 November 212

WOODLAND ANIMALS

The Pretending Woodchuck _Dr. Carl S. Patton_ 215 Mrs. Bunny’s Dinner Party _Anna E. Skinner_ 228 The Nutcrackers of Nutcracker Lodge (adapted)-- _Harriet Beecher Stowe_ 234 Bushy’s Bravery _Ada M. Skinner_ 243 Nut Gatherers (poem) _Hamish Hendry_ 248

HARVEST FIELDS

When the Frost is on the Pumpkin--_James Whitcomb Riley_ 250 Origin of Indian Corn (Indian legend)-- _Eleanor L. Skinner_ 251 Song of Hiawatha _Henry W. Longfellow_ 254 O-na-tah, the Spirit of the Corn Fields-- _Harriet Converse_ 255 Mondamin (poem) _Henry W. Longfellow_ 258 The Discontented Pumpkin _Ada M. Skinner_ 259 Bob White (poem) _George Cooper_ 263 The Little Pumpkin _Emma Florence Bush_ 265 Autumn (poem) _Edmund Spenser_ 270

CHEERFUL CHIRPERS

The News (poem) _Persis Gardiner_ 272 How There Came To Be a Katy-did _Patten Beard_ 273 Old Dame Cricket (poem) 276 Miss Katy-did and Miss Cricket (adapted)-- _Harriet Beecher Stowe_ 277 The Cricket (poem) _William Cowper_ 284

ALL HALLOWE’EN

Shadow March (poem) _Robert Louis Stevenson_ 286 Twinkling Feet’s Hallowe’en (adapted from a Cornwall legend) _Eleanor L. Skinner_ 287 Jack-o’-Lantern (poem) 298 The Elfin Knight (old ballad retold)--_Eleanor L. Skinner_ 299 The Courteous Prince (Scotch legend)--_Eleanor L. Skinner_ 307 Jack-o’-Lantern Song 314

A HARVEST OF THANKSGIVING STORIES

Selection _Henry Van Dyke_ 318 The Queer Little Baker Man _Phila Butler Bowman_ 319 A Turkey for the Stuffing _Katherine Grace Hulbert_ 327 Pumpkin Pie (poem) _Mary Mapes Dodge_ 333 Mrs. November’s Party _Agnes Carr_ 335 The Debut of Dan’l Webster _Isabel Gordon Curtis_ 345 The Green Corn Dance _Frances Jenkins Olcott_ 365 Thanksgiving (poem) _Amelie E. Barr_ 373 The Two Alms, or The Thanksgiving Day Gift (Translated and adapted from the French)-- _Eleanor L. Skinner_ 375 Thanksgiving Psalm _Bible_ 380 The Crown of the Year (poem) _Celia Thaxter_ 381

AUTUMN STORIES AND LEGENDS

EACH IN HIS OWN TONGUE

A haze on the far horizon, The infinite, tender sky, The rich, ripe tint of the cornfields, And the wild geese sailing high; And, all over upland and lowland The charm of the golden-rod,---- Some of us call it Autumn, And others call it--God. WILLIAM HERBERT CARRUTH.

NIPON AND THE KING OF THE NORTHLAND

(ALGONQUIN LEGEND)

The Summer Queen whom the Indians called Nipon lived in the land of sunshine where the life-giving beams of the mighty Sun shone all the year round on the blossoming meadows and green forests. The maiden’s wigwam faced the sunrise. It was covered with a vine which hung thick with bell-shaped blossoms.

The fair queen’s trailing green robe was woven from delicate fern leaves and embroidered with richly coloured blossoms. She wore a coronet of flowers and her long dusky braids were entwined with sprays of fragrant honeysuckle. Her moccasins were fashioned from water-lily leaves.

Nipon was very busy in her paradise of flowers. Every day she wandered through the green forests where she spoke words of enouragement and praise to the great trees, or she glided over the meadows and helped the flower buds to unfold into perfect blossoms.

Sometimes the maiden’s grandmother, whose name was K’me-wan, the Rain, came from afar to visit the land of Sunshine. The Summer Queen always welcomed her and listened carefully to the words of warning which K’me-wan solemnly gave before leaving.

“Nipon, my child, heed what I say. In thy wanderings never go to the Northland where dwells Poon, the Winter King. He is thy deadliest foe and is waiting to destroy thee. This grim old Winter King hates the fair beauty of the Summer Queen. He will cause thy green garments to wither and fade and thy bright hair to turn white like his own frost. All thy youth and strength he will change to age and weakness.”

The Summer Maiden promised to heed her grandmother’s warning, and for a long time she did not look in the direction of the Northland. But one day when she sat in front of her sun-bathed wigwam a strange longing crept into her heart--a longing to look at the frozen Northland where Poon the Winter King reigned. Slowly she turned her eyes in the forbidden direction and there she saw a wonderful vision. The far-away Northland was flooded with sunshine. She could see the broad, shining lakes, the white mountain peaks touched with rosy mists, and the winding rivers gleaming with light.

“It is the most beautiful land I have ever seen,” said Nipon.

She rose slowly and stood for some time looking at the enchanting beauty of the scene before her. Then she said, “My heart is filled with a strange longing. I shall go to visit the Northland, the Land of Poon, King of Winter.”

“My daughter, remember K’me-wan’s warning,” whispered a voice and Nipon knew that her grandmother was speaking. “Go not to the Northland where death awaits thee. Abide in the land of Sunshine.”

“I can not choose,” said Nipon. “I must go to the Northland.”

“Heed my warning! Heed my warning!” whispered the faint voice of K’me-wan, the Rain.

“I can not choose,” repeated the Summer Queen. “I must go to the Northland.”

In her delicate robe of leaves and her coronet of flowers Nipon left the Land of Sunshine and began her long journey northward. For many moons she traveled keeping her eyes fixed on the dazzling beauty of the frost king’s land.

One day she noticed that the shining mountains, lakes, and rivers in the land of Poon moved onward before her. She stopped for a moment to consider the marvel and again a faint voice whispered, “Turn back, my child! Destruction awaits thee in the land of King Winter. Heed the warning of K’me-wan.”

But the willful Summer Queen closed her ears to the pleading voice and proceeded on her journey. The beautiful vision no longer seemed to move away from her. Surely before long she would win her heart’s desire, she would reach the beautiful land of Poon.

Suddenly fear seized the Summer Queen, for she felt that the sunshine was gradually fading away. A chill wind from the distant mountain rent her frail garments and with sinking heart she saw the leaves of her robe were turning yellow, the blossoms were fading and dying. A cruel wind blew and tore to pieces her coronet of flowers. Then she noticed that her dusky braids were turning white as the frost.

“K’me-wan’s warning!” she cried. “How I wish I had heeded K’me-wan’s warning! The Frost King is cruel. He will destroy me! O K’me-wan, help me! Save me from destruction!”

Soon after Nipon left for the Northland her grandmother knew what had happened, for from her Skyland she saw that no smoke rose from the Summer Queen’s wigwam. K’me-wan hastened to the land of Sunshine. There she saw that the blossoms on the queen’s wigwam were beginning to wither, the ground was strewn with fallen petals, and the leaves of the vine had lost their shining green colour.

“A grey mist covers the face of the sun and a change is gradually creeping over this beautiful land,” cried K’me-wan. “I’ll send my gentlest showers to refresh the woods and meadows.”

But the Rain-mother failed to bring back the colour to the Summer Queen’s island.

“The trees and flowers need warmth as well as moisture,” sighed K’me-wan. “The leaves of the forest are beginning to turn orange, crimson, and brown. Every day there are fewer flowers in the meadows and along the banks of the brook. A great change is creeping over the land of Sunshine.”

And as she sat in Nipon’s wigwam, grieving, she heard the Summer Queen’s cry of agony. She heard Nipon call out, “O K’me-wan! Save me from destruction.”

“I’ll send my bravest warriors to do battle with Poon,” declared K’me-wan, standing and looking toward the Northland. “He shall match his strength with mine!”

Quickly she called together her strong warriors, South-wind, West-wind, and Warm-breeze.

“Go to the Northland, my warriors,” she commanded. “Use all your power to rescue Nipon from Poon, the Winter King. Fly to the Northland!”

K’me-wan’s wind warriors fled like lightning to the land of Poon. But the crafty Winter King was not taken by surprise. The mighty North-wind, the biting East-wind, and the Frost-spirit, his strong chieftains, he held in readiness to do battle for possession of the Summer Queen. And when K’me-wan’s warriors drew near the Northland, Poon gave his command.

“Fly to meet our foes, my warriors! They come from the land of Sunshine! Vanquish them!”

And as he spoke his chieftains saw that Poon’s stalwart figure was growing gaunt and thin, and great drops of sweat were dropping from his brow.

At Winter King’s command his giants flew to match their strength with K’me-wan’s warriors.

But the Snowflakes and Hailstones led by the Frost-spirit weakened and fell before Warm-breeze and his followers, the Raindrops. The cold wind warriors of the North shook and roared as they matched strength with the mightier giants from the land of Sunshine. Then, as K’me-wan’s warriors pressed nearer and nearer to the Northland, Poon the Winter King weakened and cried out in agony, “Set Nipon free or I shall perish. My warriors are vanquished by the chieftains of the land of Sunshine! Free the Summer Queen and end this strife!”

At this command from Poon, his giant warriors grew silent and fled back to the Northland, leaving K’me-wan’s chieftains in possession of Nipon. Gently they led the weary Summer Queen back toward her own land. They travelled for many moons before the beams of the great sun were warm enough to restore her beauty.

Only once on her journey back to her own land did Nipon stop. It was when she reached a place enveloped in grey mists and dark clouds where the wild lightning leaped and flashed. The wind blew and the showers fell continually in this land of K’me-wan. Through the clouds and rain Nipon traveled until she reached the wigwam of the ancient Rain-mother.

“Forgive me, K’me-wan,” said the Summer Queen humbly.

“My child, thou hast well nigh killed me,” moaned K’me-wan faintly. “Thy disobedience has brought great suffering in my cherished island. My giant warriors conquered or Poon with his cruel ice scepter would have reigned king over all. Never again can I venture on such a struggle.”

“Never again shall I disobey thee,” declared Nipon, the Summer Queen.

“Hasten back to the land of Sunshine,” said K’me-wan, rising. “There thou art sadly needed, for the leaves have changed their color and the blossoms are almost gone. Hasten back and give them new life, my daughter.”

Then Nipon bade farewell to the Rain-mother and departed for the land of Sunshine. As she drew near her heart was filled with a wonderful joy and peace.

“Welcome, Nipon,” laughed the warm sunbeams.

“Welcome, Nipon,” sang the gentle breezes.

“Welcome, our life-giving Summer Queen,” nodded the forest trees.

PRINCE AUTUMN

CARL EWALD

On the top of the hills in the West stood the Prince of Autumn and surveyed the land with his serious eyes.

His hair and beard were dashed with gray and there were wrinkles on his forehead. But he was good to look at, still and straight and strong. His splendid cloak gleamed red and green and brown and yellow and flapped in the wind. In his hand he held a horn.

He smiled sadly and stood awhile and listened to the fighting and the singing and the cries. Then he raised his head, put the horn to his mouth and blew a lusty flourish:

Summer goes his all-prospering way, Autumn’s horn is calling. Heather dresses the brown hill-clay, Winds whip crackling across the bay, Leaves in the grove keep falling.

All the trees of the forest shook from root to top, themselves not knowing why. All the birds fell silent together. The stag in the glade raised his antlers in surprise and listened. The poppy’s scarlet petals flew before the wind.

But high on the mountains and on the bare hills and low down in the bog, the heather burst forth and blazed purple and glorious in the sun. And the bees flew from the faded flowers of the meadow and hid themselves in the heather-fields.

But Autumn put his horn to his mouth again and blew:

Autumn lords it with banners bright Of garish leaves held o’er him, Quelling Summer’s eternal fight, Heralding Winter, wild and white, While the blithe little birds flee before him.

The Prince of Summer stopped where he stood in the valley and raised his eyes to the hills in the West. And the Prince of Autumn took the horn from his mouth and bowed low before him.

“Welcome!” said Summer.

He took a step towards him and no more, as befits one who is the greater. But the Prince of Autumn came down over the hills and again bowed low.

They walked through the valley hand in hand. And so radiant was Summer that, wherever they passed, none was aware of Autumn’s presence. The notes of his horn died away in the air; and one and all recovered from the shudder that had passed over them. The trees and birds and flowers came to themselves again and whispered and sang and fought. The river flowed, the rushes murmured, the bees continued their summer orgy in the heather.

But, wherever the princes stopped on their progress through the valley, it came about that the foliage turned yellow on the side where Autumn was. A little leaf fell from its stalk and fluttered away and dropped at his feet. The nightingale ceased singing, though it was eventide; the cuckoo was silent and flapped restlessly through the woods; the stork stretched himself in his nest and looked toward the South. But the princes took no heed.

“Welcome,” said Summer again. “Do you remember your promise?”

“I remember,” answered Autumn.

Then the Prince of Summer stopped and looked out over the kingdom where the noise was gradually subsiding.

“Do you hear them?” he asked. “Now do you take them into your gentle keeping.”

“I shall bring your produce home,” said Autumn. “I shall watch carefully over them that dream, I shall cover up lovingly them that are to sleep in the mould. I will warn them thrice of Winter’s coming.”

“It is well,” said Summer.

They walked in silence for a time, while night came forth.

“The honeysuckle’s petals fell when you blew your horn,” said Summer. “Some of my children will die at the moment when I leave the valley. But the nightingale and the cuckoo and the stork I shall take with me.”

Again the two princes walked in silence. It was quite still, only the owls hooted in the old oak.

“You must send my birds after me,” said Summer.

“I shall not forget,” replied Autumn.

Then the Prince of Summer raised his hand in farewell and bade Autumn take possession of the kingdom.