Alfreda Harris plus Wheeler - Kuau (The Frog) - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

One of the things I remember my late mother-in-law saying was so hard as we get older is the number of friends we lose by their going before us.  I was shocked this past week to learn Alfreda Harris, had died.  Alfreda was my friend and fellow member of the former storytelling group, Flint Area Story Tellers.

Today's article is posted in loving memory of Alfreda Ann Harris.  Someone so special will not be forgotten.  Alfreda was a lively, knowledgeable storyteller who called her work Porch Stories.   I will miss her and know those who heard her tell will miss her, too.  She had so many stories to tell and they were often enriched by her travels, both as a Peace Corps volunteer in the South Pacific's Solomon Islands and travels beyond to a total of 16 countries which I remember definitely included Africa. 

Because many of my readers may be here only to read a story, I decided to hunt for a Public Domain story from the Solomon Islands since I am sure Alfreda would want people to discover this little known Pacific Island, especially during this Asian and Pacific Islander Heritage month.  While this annotated bibliography of Solomon Islands folklore shows coverage starting in the second half of the Twentieth Century, little is available earlier and therefore free of copyright.  

Gerald Wheeler in 1926 was the exception.  Wheeler's ability to speak many languages served him well when he went on an anthropological expedition in 1908 and 9 to the Solomon Islands.  His 1926 book, Mono-Alu folklore contains 79 myths, stories, and songs.  He gives both the story in a brief English version and the original as he heard it.  In 1926 Wheeler published Mono-Alu folklore, describing 79 myths, stories and songs. For each myth he provided a transcription in the Mono-Alu language and an English translation.

His English version is so brief and seems to miss the way it was originally told.  This little tale of why the frog lives in the water seems better told with all the repetition left in as Wheeler heard it.  The book took a bit of prowling, but I finally learned a Pakusi is a stone axe

 

(Laughing Frog by photographer Andreas Gramiger)

That story just seem to call out for a laughing frog picture and when I think back on Alfreda I always picture her with a smile.  

To let Alfreda speak again to us, I went searching online.  There weren't a lot of places, but there were a few where Alfreda described herself: her professional LinkedIn write-up; when she became a Crim Mindful Fellow for Flint's Crim Finess Foundation (that brings a smile to me since the Crim annual race always seemed to coincide with the Michigan Storytellers Festival . . . may the festival someday return!); an online story from the Thirty-Three Days of Covid lockdown when her severely health damaged youngest sister hovered near death; and her 2005 article to Peace Corps Online about her gathering of Flint's "Porch Stories" for the Sloan Museum exhibit, "A View from the Front Porch"; she also led Virtual Story Circles for Sloan Museum "exploring themes of  resilience, neighborhoods, housing, and education. Community members are invited to share their own stories through guided discussions that lead to new experiences and narrative change for the Flint community" -- they said Alfreda "shares stories in hopes of transcending cultural boundaries and expanding global horizons. She believes there are lessons and wisdom to be gained in the telling and hearing of stories. Through stories she seeks to provide audiences with lasting learning, entertaining, and inspirational experiences. Her diverse background provides fertile ground for capturing the storytelling within everyone’s life journey."

If you follow those links you will see her strong connection to her family and living in the home where she grew up, along with her dedication to bringing out the stories of Flint's residents, and, as the Crim article let her say, she had a:

lifelong passion for learning, teaching, and making a difference in her community.  She has practiced mindfulness for over 30 years. She seeks opportunities to share mindfulness through storytelling.  Alfreda has a diverse background in education and the arts. 

Her love for Flint and both her volunteer and paid work will be missed.  Her love of her mother, brothers and sisters show where she has gone to be with family.  She said it best in her opening paragraph of Thirty-Three Days:

I am sheltering in place alone, but not lonely. I miss my Mama. She passed on Friday, January 24, 2020, after five weeks in the hospital. Besides being my mother, she was my housemate and best friend. The eldest of her six children (two boys and four girls), I am her next of kin. I am the one everyone looked to when it came to making decisions. I am the facilitator and advocate on behalf of our family. Now, walking through the house we shared and where I grew up, her presence is all around me. I hear her voice and see her everywhere. Mama left me with many wonderful, sunshine memories. As I grieve her, I am sheltering in place alone, but not lonely.

Talking about that family home in the Flint community of Beecher, the final sentence of the Crim article says "She resides in Beecher in the house where she grew up."  She still does. . . and in all the Porch Stories told through her encouragement.

AI and "The Fighting Fifth"

We seem to be constantly hearing about Artificial Intelligence, including the ability to have something written by it.  I decided to go to https://bard.google.com/ and ask "What happened on May 20 or 21?" since finding the weekly topic always is my starting point.  Several notable events happened, but the one that caught my eye was:

    May 20, 1862 - The Battle of Seven Pines, also known as the Battle of Fair Oaks, was fought in Virginia during the American Civil War. The battle was a tactical draw, but it was a strategic victory for the Confederates, as it forced Union General George McClellan to abandon his plans to capture Richmond, the Confederate capital.

That battle was important to Michigan's "Fighting Fifth" Infantry and especially to my program reenacting Liberetta Lerich Green telling about her family's work as an Underground Railroad Station  and her brothers in the Civil War.  Both brothers  after that battle wound up at Libby Prison becoming what was sardonically known as "Guests of the Confederacy."  I next asked "What happened to prisoners of war after the Battle of Fair Oaks?"  Bard today said:

    The Battle of Fair Oaks, also known as the Battle of Seven Pines, was fought on May 31–June 1, 1862, in the Seven Days Battles of the American Civil War. The battle was a tactical draw, but it was a strategic victory for the Confederates, as it forced Union General George McClellan to abandon his plans to capture Richmond, the Confederate capital.

    Prisoners of war (POWs) taken during the Battle of Fair Oaks were held in a variety of locations, including both Union and Confederate prisons. The conditions in these prisons were often harsh, and many POWs died from disease or malnutrition.

    The treatment of POWs during the Civil War was governed by the Lieber Code, a set of rules and regulations issued by President Abraham Lincoln in 1863. The Lieber Code established basic standards for the treatment of POWs, including the right to food, water, shelter, and medical care. However, the Lieber Code was not always followed, and many POWs suffered greatly during their captivity.

    The following are some of the specific locations where POWs from the Battle of Fair Oaks were held:

• Union Prisons:
  • Camp Douglas, Illinois
  • Camp Morton, Indiana
  • Camp Chase, Ohio
  • Camp Butler, Illinois
  • Camp Parole, Maryland
• Confederate Prisons:
  • Libby Prison, Richmond, Virginia
  • Castle Thunder, Richmond, Virginia
  • Salisbury Prison, North Carolina
  • Andersonville Prison, Georgia

    The Battle of Fair Oaks was a bloody and costly battle, and the treatment of POWs after the battle was often harsh and inhumane. The experiences of these POWs are a reminder of the terrible cost of war.

That is different from what I was able to receive the other day!  I didn't save that first paragraph, but the difference begins with a subtle change in the opening sentence: 

    Prisoners of war (POWs) taken during the Battle of Fair Oaks were sent to a variety of locations, 

-- from that I find little the same (and find myself wondering if I edited it since my saved material was done earlier this week.)  I find the sentence continues:

    depending on their side of the war and the severity of their injuries.  Union POWs were typically sent to prisoner-of-war camps in the North, while Confederate POWs were sent to camps in the South.  Prisoners who were seriously injured were often sent to hospitals, while those who were not injured were typically held in barracks or tents.

Did I edit out about the Lieber Code?  Possibly, as I certainly wouldn't have Liberetta talk about it.  Instead I find a great deal related to my question about prisoner conditions:

    Conditions in POW camps varied greatly, depending on the resources available to the camp and the attitude of the captors.  Some camps were well-run and provided prisoners with adequate food, clothing, and medical care.  Others were poorly run and prisoners were often subjected to harsh conditions, including malnutrition, disease, and physical abuse.  

    The treatment of POWs during the Civil War was generally better than in previous wars, but it was still far from ideal.  Many prisoners died from disease, malnutrition, or exposure.  Others were killed or injured in  prison riots or escapes.  The war ended with the release of all POWs, but the experience left a lasting legacy of suffering and loss.  

    Here are some additional details about the treatment of POWs after the Battle of Fair Oaks:

    Union POWs: Union POWs were typically held in camps in the North, such as Camp Douglas in Chicago, Illinois; Camp Chase in Columbus, Ohio; and Camp Morton in Indianapolis, Indiana.  Conditions in these camps were generally fair, and prisoners were provided with adequate food, clothing, and medical care.  However, there were some exceptions. For example, Camp Douglas was overcrowded and unsanitary, and prisoners were sometimes subjected to harsh treatment by the guards.

    Confederate POWs: Confederate POWs were typically held in camps in the South, such as Libby Prison in Richmond, Virginia; Castle Thunder in Richmond, Virginia; and Andersonville Prison in Georgia. Conditions in these camps were often poor, and prisoners were often subjected to malnutrition, disease, and physical abuse. Andersonville Prison was particularly notorious for its harsh conditions, and it is estimated that over 13,000 prisoners died there.

    The treatment of POWs during the Civil War was a complex issue, and there is no easy answer to the question of how they were treated. However, it is clear that many prisoners suffered greatly during their time in captivity.

I then asked "What were the conditions in Libby Prison?" because both of Liberetta's brothers were there.   There are some changes I will note in black text, using it to show what I found earlier.  I also note Bard offers to "View other drafts."

      Libby Prison was a Confederate prison located in Richmond, Virginia, during the American Civil War. It was located in a (converted) former tobacco warehouse and (that) was originally intended (used) to house only officers, but it eventually became overcrowded and held enlisted men as well. (Union prisoners of war. The prison gained an infamous reputation for its overcrowded and harsh conditions.) Conditions in Libby Prison were notoriously harsh, and many prisoners died from disease, malnutrition, and exposure.

    Here are some of the specific conditions that prisoners of Libby Prison had to endure:

(This section really contradicts the earlier information):

Overcrowding: Libby Prison was designed to hold 1,000 prisoners, but it eventually held over 2,000. This overcrowding let unsanitary conditions and a lack of privacy.

(Note the statistical differences.)

    The prison was originally designed to hold 300 prisoners, but by the end of the war, it was holding over 1,000. The prisoners were confined to two floors of the building, which had no running water or sewage system. The prisoners were forced to sleep on the floor, and they were given very little food or water.

My earlier "draft" went on to say:

Malnutrition: Prisoners were given a daily ration of cornmeal, bacon, and salt, but this was often not enough to eat. Many prisoners also suffered from scurvy and other diseases due to a lack of vitamin C.

Exposure: The prison had no heating or cooling, so prisoners were exposed to the elements. In the winter, it was often freezing cold, and in the summer, it was often stifling hot.

Disease: Diseases such as typhoid, cholera, and smallpox were rampant in Libby Prison. The lack of sanitation and the overcrowding made it easy for diseases to spread.

Physical abuse: Prisoners were sometimes beaten by the guards for minor infractions. There were also reports of prisoners being tortured.

The conditions in Libby Prison were so harsh that many prisoners died. It is estimated that over 1,200 prisoners died in Libby Prison, including 300 who died in a single outbreak of typhoid fever. The prison was eventually abandoned in 1865, after the end of the Civil War.

The conditions in Libby Prison were a stain on the Confederacy's record. They are a reminder of the human cost of war, and they serve as a warning to future generations.

***In contrast the later look at conditions says:

    The conditions in the prison were ideal for the spread of disease. The prisoners were often crowded together, and they did not have access to proper medical care. As a result, many prisoners died from disease, including typhoid, dysentery, and pneumonia.

    The conditions in Libby Prison were a source of great suffering for the prisoners. Many prisoners lost weight and became emaciated. Some prisoners also suffered from mental illness as a result of the stress of their captivity.

    The conditions in Libby Prison were a violation of the Lieber Code, a set of rules and regulations issued by President Abraham Lincoln in 1863. The Lieber Code established basic standards for the treatment of POWs, including the right to food, water, shelter, and medical care. However, the Confederate government did not always follow the Lieber Code, and the prisoners at Libby Prison suffered greatly as a result.

    The prison was burned by Union troops on April 3, 1865, as they were evacuating Richmond. The fire destroyed the prison and all of the records of the prisoners who were held there.

I then asked "How were prisoners paroled from Libby Prison?" Again I'm offered to View other Drafts. There are only slight wording differences at first.

Prisoners were paroled from Libby Prison in a variety of ways. The most common way was for the prisoner to sign a document agreeing not to take up arms against the Confederate States of America until the end of the war. In exchange, the prisoner would be released and allowed to return home.

My earlier version goes on to name this system the "parole and exchange cartel."

Another way prisoners were paroled was through prisoner exchanges. In a prisoner exchange, the two sides would agree to release a certain number of prisoners on a one-for-one basis. This was often done to relieve overcrowding in the prisons.

Finally, some prisoners were paroled through special arrangements. For example, some prisoners were paroled so that they could attend the funerals of family members.

That isn't my earlier version.  Instead it earlier said:

Another way to be paroled was to be granted a furlough. This was a temporary release from prison, typically granted for medical reasons or to attend to family matters.

Finally, prisoners could also be paroled if they agreed to work for the Confederate government. This was often done in the case of skilled laborers, such as doctors or engineers.

(The next section says essentially the same, although it doesn't mention being rejected and it goes on to say: They also had to post a bond, guaranteeing that they would not take up arms again.)

The process of parole was often slow and bureaucratic. Prisoners could wait weeks or even months for their parole to be approved. In some cases, prisoners were denied parole even after they had signed the parole agreement.

Despite the challenges, parole was a way for prisoners to escape the harsh conditions of Libby Prison and return home to their families.

I finally asked "How frequently were prisoners paroled from Libby Prison?"  Again other drafts were offered.

The frequency of prisoner paroles from Libby Prison varied over time. In the early years of the war, paroles were relatively common. Here the earlier version may have only slightly different wording until it goes on to again cite the cartel: The parole and exchange cartel was in effect from 1862 to 1864, and during that time, thousands of prisoners were exchanged. However the cartel broke down in 1864, and after that, it became much more difficult for prisoners to be paroled.

There were a number of reasons why the parole and exchange cartel broke down. One reason was that the Union and Confederate governments were unable to agree on the terms of exchange. Another reason was that the war was going badly for the Confederacy, and they were reluctant to release prisoners who might be able to fight again.

After the parole and exchange cartel broke down, prisoners were still able to be paroled in some cases. However, it was much more difficult, and the process was often lengthy and complicated. Prisoners who were paroled after the cartel broke down were typically required to sign an oath of allegiance to the United States, and they were also required to post a bond.

***The newer version, however, does give some new and interesting information:

However, as the war progressed, paroles became less frequent. This was due to a number of factors, including the increasing number of prisoners, the growing distrust between the two sides, and the increasing difficulty of transporting prisoners.

According to the National Park Service, approximately 1,200 Union prisoners were paroled from Libby Prison during the course of the war. This represents about 10% of the total number of prisoners who were held at the prison.

The most common time for prisoners to be paroled was during the winter months. This was because the conditions in the prison were particularly harsh during the summer, and prisoners were more likely to die from disease or malnutrition.

The parole process was often slow and bureaucratic. Prisoners could wait weeks or even months for their parole to be approved. In some cases, prisoners were denied parole even after they had signed the parole agreement.

Despite the challenges, parole was a way for prisoners to escape the harsh conditions of Libby Prison and return home to their families.

What does this comparison between versions show?

For teachers and others proofreading to see if AI was used, there may be multiple versions to check.  The statistics about how many prisoners were held is worrisome because it has been said that AI sometimes gives misinformation.  Research in various books, however, may also give contradictory information.  The trick is for a human researcher to note the differences.  

The real question is: how a human might improve this dry information?  In the case of the Lerich brothers, Liberetta has some of the letters her family sent during that time and information directly from her brothers.  Older brother, Will, joined Michigan's "Fighting Fifth" because he wanted to "look out for his brother."  Isaac (commonly called Ike) joined as a bugle boy, but was injured and lay on the Fair Oaks battlefield for ten days.  Will was already in Libby Prison when Ike was finally carried in to join him.  Both wound up eventually being paroled for their injuries.  Ike was sent home, but he left the Invalid Corps or Veteran Reserve Corps to become an officer in the Third Michigan Infantry, as he could ride horseback all day -- although his letters home stress the difficulty of doing it.  By the time he mustered out in San Antonio after the war, he was a major.  Brother Will went back as an ordinary infantry soldier.  He also claimed to have been at Andersonville Prison, but I can find no proof of that.  Human research makes it look as if it was a bit of his own storytelling.  

Short of a time machine, both artificial intelligence and human claims are far from infallible.  As a storyteller I try to present from the point of view of the person telling the story.  AI may add to the story if it has access to information not easily located by the researcher.  As for teachers and other reviewers, the addition of a "human view", like those shared by the Lerichs, will remain important beyond just the facts.

 

     

   

 

Wiggin and Smith - The Disappointed Bear - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

Sisters Kate Douglas Wiggin and Nora Archibald Smith together edited 16 books packed with wonderful stories.  Each wrote on their own beyond those anthologies and both Wiggin and Smith were strong leaders in the Kindergarten movement.  While it's easy to think of their books as being for children, the anthologies include folklore for all.  I prowled Tales of Laughter with just the key word of "mother" for Mother's Day.  It right away turned up this little gem from Russian folklore.  It matches a common theme found again and again in stories whether in history, folklore, or nature about mothers. . . mothers will do whatever it takes to protect their young.  Of course it helps if she's clever, too. 

Tales of Laughter carries the series subtitle of A Third Fairy Book, but there's not a fairy to be found in this tale.

 

The Disappointed Bear

Once upon a time a little old woman, who was walking in the forest, climbed up into a wild-cherry tree to gather cherries. Now, a bear espied her, and he came under the tree and cried, “Come down, old woman, that I may eat you!”

“Go along with you!” answered the old woman. “Why should you eat a scrawny old woman like me. Here, gnaw upon my shoe till I come down, and I will take you to my house; I have two little children there, named Janko and Mirko; they will make you a right savory dish. So have patience till you get them.”

So said the little old woman, and threw down one of her shoes. Master Bruin gnawed and gnawed upon it, but the more he gnawed the hungrier he grew. Greatly enraged, he screamed up to the old woman:

“Come down, you old wench, and let me eat you!”

“Just wait a little longer, till the old wench has gathered enough cherries,” she answered. “Here, gnaw this other shoe a while; she’ll soon come down and show you the way to her house.” So saying, she threw down the other shoe.

When Bruin found that the second shoe was no juicier than the first, he made no further effort, but contented himself with thinking of the fat little children at the old woman’s house. When she had gathered cherries enough, down she came and went home, the bear tramping along behind her.

When they reached the house the old woman said: “I’ll tell you what; first let me give the children a good supper, that they may be all the fatter; and meanwhile do you run about till evening to get up a better appetite.”

So Bruin went away and ran about in the woods all the rest of the day, and at evening he came back to the hut.

“Here I am, little mother!” he cried; “now bring out Janko and Mirko, and see me polish them off. I am starving to death!”

“Oho!” answered the little old woman from within; “Janko has made the door fast with bolts, and I have just put Mirko to sleep. I couldn’t think of waking him. And the little mother is so old and weak that she can’t unbolt the door alone. Come some other day!”

Then Master Bruin perceived that he had been fooled, and he walked reluctantly away, with drooping snout and an empty stomach.

*****

May your Mother's Day enjoy this little story over some delicious food!  (May that food also be cooked by anybody BUT mother!)

******************

 

This is part of a series of postings of stories under the category, "Keeping the Public in Public Domain."  The idea behind Public Domain was to preserve our cultural heritage after the authors and their immediate heirs were compensated.  I feel strongly current copyright law delays this intent on works of the 20th century.  My own library of folklore includes so many books within the Public Domain I decided to share stories from them.  I hope you enjoy discovering new stories.  

At the same time, my own involvement in storytelling regularly creates projects requiring research as part of my sharing stories with an audience.  Whenever that research needs to be shown here, the publishing of Public Domain stories will not occur that week.  This is a return to my regular posting of a research project here.  (Don't worry, this isn't dry research, my research is always geared towards future storytelling to an audience.)  Response has convinced me that "Keeping the Public in Public Domain" should continue along with my other postings as often as I can manage it.

Other Public Domain story resources I recommend-

• There are many online resources for Public Domain stories, maybe none for folklore is as ambitious as fellow storyteller, Yoel Perez's database, Yashpeh, the International Folktales Collection.  I have long recommended it and continue to do so.  He has loaded Stith Thompson's Motif Index into his server as a database so you can search the whole 6 volumes for whatever word or expression you like by pressing one key. http://folkmasa.org/motiv/motif.htm

• You may have noticed I'm no longer certain Dr. Perez has the largest database, although his offering the Motif Index certainly qualifies for those of us seeking specific types of stories.  There's another site, FairyTalez claiming to be the largest, with "over 2000 fairy tales, folktales, and fables" and they are "fully optimized for phones, tablets, and PCs", free and presented without ads.
  Between those two sites, there is much for story-lovers, but as they say in infomercials, "Wait, there's more!"

The email list for storytellers, Storytell, discussed Online Story Sources and came up with these additional suggestions:        

         - David K. Brown - http://people.ucalgary.ca/~dkbrown/stories.html

         - Karen Chace - http://karenchace.blogspot.com/search?q=public+domain

         - Richard Martin - http://www.tellatale.eu/tales_page.html

         - Spirit of Trees - http://spiritoftrees.org/featured-folktales

         - Story-Lovers - http://www.story-lovers.com/ is now only accessible through the Wayback Machine, described below, but the late Jackie Baldwin's wonderful site lives on there, fully searchable manually (the Google search doesn't work), at https://archive.org/ .  It's not easy, but go to Story-lovers.com snapshot for December 22 2016  and you can click on SOS: Searching Out Stories to scroll down through the many story topics and click on the story topic that interests you.

       - Tim Sheppard - http://www.timsheppard.co.uk/story/storylinks.html

       - World of Tales - http://www.worldoftales.com/ 

 
           - Zalka Csenge Virag - http://multicoloreddiary.blogspot.com doesn't give the actual stories, but her recommendations, working her way through each country on a continent, give excellent ideas for finding new books and stories to love and tell.

     
You're going to find many of the links on these sites have gone down, BUT go to the Internet Archive Wayback Machine to find some of these old links.  Tim's site, for example, is so huge probably updating it would be a full-time job.  In the case of Story-Lovers, it's great that Jackie Baldwin set it up to stay online as long as it did after she could no longer maintain it.  Possibly searches maintained it.  Unfortunately Storytell list member, Papa Joe is on both Tim Sheppard's site and Story-Lovers, but he no longer maintains his old Papa Joe's Traveling Storytelling Show website and his Library (something you want to see!) is now only on the Wayback Machine.  It took some patience working back through claims of snapshots but finally in December of 2006 it appears!

Somebody as of this writing whose stories can still be found by his website is the late Chuck Larkin - http://chucklarkin.com/stories.html.  I prefer to list these sites by their complete address so they can be found by the Wayback Machine, a.k.a. Archive.org, when that becomes the only way to find them.

You can see why I recommend these to you. 

Have fun discovering even more stories

Housman -Crown's Warranty - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

With all the hoopla this weekend over the coronation of King Charles III and looking ahead to the drama of the "heir and the spare", this story of a crown and its role in the ruling by a king seems appropriate.  Any further parallels is in the eye (or ear) of the audience.

This is from Moonshine and Clover by Laurence Housman with an illustration engraved by his sister,  Clemence Housman.  If the Housman names sounds familiar, they are the younger siblings of the noted English poet and scholar, A.E. Housman and each have their own literary history and social activism.

The story includes the English spelling of "gaolers" for "jailers", but otherwise needs no further introduction.

THE CROWN'S WARRANTY

FIVE hundred years ago or more, a king died, leaving two sons: one was the child of his first wife, and the other of his second, who surviving him became his widow. When the king was dying he took off the royal crown which he wore, and set it upon the head of the elder born, the son of his first wife, and said to him: "God is the lord of the air, and of the water, and of the dry land: this gift cometh to thee from God. Be merciful, over whatsoever thou holdest power, as God is!" And saying these words he laid his hands upon the heads of his two sons and died.

Now this crown was no ordinary crown, for it was made of the gold brought by the Wise Men of the East when they came to worship at Bethlehem. Every king that had worn it since then had reigned well and uprightly, and had been loved by all his people; but only to himself was it known what virtue lay in his crown; and every king at dying gave it to his son with the same words of blessing.

So, now, the king's eldest son wore the crown; and his step-mother knew that her own son could not wear it while he lived, therefore she looked on and said nothing. Now he was known to all the people of his country, because of his right to the throne, as the king's son; and his brother, the child of the second wife, was called the queen's son. But as yet they were both young, and cared little enough for crowns.

After the king's death the queen was made regent till the king's son should be come to a full age; but already the little king wore the royal crown his father had left him, and the queen looked on and said nothing.

More than three years went by, and everybody said how good the queen was to the little king who was not her own son; and the king's son, for his part, was good to her and to his step-brother, loving them both; and all by himself he kept thinking, having his thoughts guarded and circled by his golden crown, "How shall I learn to be a wise king, and to be merciful when I have power, as God is?"

So to everything that came his way, to his playthings and his pets, to his ministers and his servants, he played the king as though already his word made life and death. People watching him said, "Everything that has touch with the king's son loves him." They told strange tales of him: only in fairy books could they be believed, because they were so beautiful; and all the time the queen, getting a good name for herself, looked on and said nothing.

One night the king's son was lying half-asleep upon his bed, with wise dreams coming and going under the circle of his gold crown, when a mouse ran out of the wainscot and came and jumped up upon the couch. The poor mouse had turned quite white with fear and horror, and was trembling in every limb as it cried its news into the king's ear. "O king's son," it said, "get up and run for your life! I was behind the wainscot in the queen's closet, and this is what I heard: if you stay here, when you wake up to-morrow you will be dead!"

The king's son got up, and all alone in the dark night stole out of the palace, seeking safety for his dear life. He sighed to himself, "There was a pain in my crown ever since I wore it. Alas, mother, I thought you were too kind a step-mother to do this!"

Outside it was still winter: there was no warmth in the world, and not a leaf upon the trees. He wandered away and away, wondering where he should hide.

The queen, when her villains came and told her the king's son was not to be found, went and looked in her magic crystal to find trace of him. As soon as it grew light, for in the darkness the crystal could show her nothing, she saw many miles away the king's son running to hide himself in the forest. So she sent out her villains to search until they should find him.

As they went the sun grew hot in the sky, and birds began singing. "It is spring!" cried the messengers. "How suddenly it has come!" They rode on till they came to the forest.

The king's son, stumbling along through the forest under the bare boughs, thought, "Even here where shall I hide? Nowhere is there a leaf to cover me." But when the sun grew warm he looked up; and there were all the trees breaking into bud and leaf, making a green heaven above his head. So when he was too weary to go farther, he climbed into the largest tree he could find; and the leaves covered him.

The queen's messengers searched through all the forest but could not find him; so they went back to her empty handed, not having either the king's crown or his heart to show. "Fools!" she cried, looking in her magic crystal, "he was in the big sycamore under which you stopped to give your horses provender!"

The sycamore said to the king's son, "The queen's eye is on you; get down and run for your life till you get to the hollow tarn-stones among the hills! But if you stay here, when you wake to-morrow you will be dead."

When the queen's messengers came once more to the forest they found it all wintry again, and without leaf; only the sycamore was in full green, clapping its hands for joy in the keen and bitter air.

The messengers searched, and beat down the leaves, but the king's son was not there. They went back to the queen. She looked long in her magic crystal, but little could she see; for the king's son had hidden himself in a small cave beside the tarn-stones, and into the darkness the crystal could not pry.

Presently she saw a flight of birds crossing the blue, and every bird carried a few crumbs of bread in its beak. Then she ran and called to her villains, "Follow the birds, and they will take you to where the little wizard is; for they are carrying bread to feed him, and they are all heading for the tarn-stones up on the hills."

The birds said to the king's son, "Now you are rested; we have fed you, and you are not hungry. The queen's eye is on you. Up, and run for your life! If you stay here, when you wake up to-morrow you will be dead."

"Where shall I go?" said the king's son. "Go," answered the birds, "and hide in the rushes on the island of the pool of sweet waters!"

When the queen's messengers came to the tarn-stones, it was as though five thousand people had been feeding: they found crumbs enough to fill twelve baskets full, lying in the cave; but no king's son could they lay their hands on.

The king's son was lying hidden among the rushes on the island of the great pool of sweet waters; and thick and fast came silver-scaled fishes, feeding him.

It took the queen three days of hard gazing in her crystal, before she found how the fishes all swam to a point among the rushes of the island in the pool of sweet waters, and away again. Then she knew: and running to her messengers she cried: "He is among the rushes on the island in the pool of sweet waters; and all the fishes are feeding him!"

The fishes said to the king's son: "The queen's eye is on you; up, and swim to shore, and away for your life! For if they come and find you here, when you wake to-morrow you will certainly be dead."

"Where shall I go?" asked the king's son. "Wherever I go, she finds me." "Go to the old fox who gets his poultry from the palace, and ask him to hide you in his burrow!"

When the queen's messengers came to the pool they found the fishes playing at alibis all about in the water; but nothing of the king's son could they see.

The king's son came to the fox, and the fox hid him in his burrow, and brought him butter and eggs from the royal dairy. This was better fare than the king's son had had since the beginning of his wanderings, and he thanked the fox warmly for his friendship. "On the contrary," said the fox, "I am under an obligation to you; for ever since you came to be my guest I have felt like an honest man." "If I live to be king," said the king's son, "you shall always have butter and eggs from the royal dairy, and be as honest as you like."

The queen hugged her magic crystal for a whole week, but could make nothing out of it: for her crystal showed her nothing of the king's son's hiding-place, nor of the fox at his nightly thefts of butter and eggs from the royal dairy. But it so happened that this same fox was a sort of half-brother of the queen's; and so guilty did he feel with his brand-new good conscience that he quite left off going to see her. So in a little while the queen, with her suspicions and her magic crystal, had nosed out the young king's hiding-place.

The fox said to the king's son: "The queen's eye is on you! Get out and run for your life, for if you stay here till to-morrow, you will wake up and find yourself a dead goose!"

"But where else can I go to?" asked the king's son. "Is there any place left for me?" The fox laughed, and winked, and whispered a word; and all at once the king's son got up and went.

The queen had said to her messengers, "Go and look in the fox's hole; and you shall find him!" But the messengers came and dug up the burrow, and found butter and eggs from the royal dairy, but of the king's son never a sign.

The king's son came to the palace, and as he crept through the gardens he found there his little brother alone at play,—playing sadly because now he was all alone. Then the king's son stopped and said, "Little brother, do you so much wish to be king?" And taking off the crown, he put it upon his brother's head. Then he went on through underground ways and corridors, till he came to the palace dungeons.

Now a dungeon is a hard thing to get out of, but it is easy enough to get into. He came to the deepest and darkest dungeon of all, and there he opened the door, and went in and hid himself.

The queen's son came running to his mother, wearing the king's crown. "Oh, mother," he said, "I am frightened! while I was playing, my brother came looking all dead and white, and put this crown on my head. Take it off for me, it hurts!"

When the queen saw the crown on her son's head, she was horribly afraid; for that it should have so come there was the most unlikely thing of all. She fetched her crystal ball, and looked in, asking where the king's son might be, and, for answer, the crystal became black as night.

Then said the queen to herself, "He is dead at last!"

But, now that the king's crown was on the wrong head, the air, and the water, and the dry land, over which God is lord, heard of it. And the trees said, "Until the king's son returns, we will not put forth bud or leaf!"

And the birds said, "We will not sing in the land, or breed or build nests until the king's son returns!"

And the fishes said, "We will not stay in the ponds or rivers to get caught, unless the king's son, to whom we belong, returns!"

And the foxes said, "Unless the king's son returns, we will increase and multiply exceedingly and be like locusts in the land!"

So all through that land the trees, though it was spring, stayed as if it were mid-winter; and all the fishes swam down to the sea; and all the birds flew over the sea, away into other countries; and all the foxes increased and multiplied, and became like locusts in the land.

Now when the trees, and the birds, and the beasts, and the fishes led the way the good folk of the country discovered that the queen was a criminal. So, after the way of the flesh, they took the queen and her little son, and bound them, and threw them into the deepest and darkest dungeon they could find; and said they: "Until you tell us where the king's son is, there you stay and starve!"

The king's son was playing all alone in his dungeon with the mice who brought him food from the palace larder, when the queen and her son were thrown down to him fast bound, as though he were as dangerous as a den of lions. At first he was terribly afraid when he found himself pursued into his last hiding-place; but presently he gathered from the queen's remarks that she was quite powerless to do him harm.

"Oh, what a wicked woman I am!" she moaned; and began crying lamentably, as if she hoped to melt the stone walls which formed her prison.

Presently her little son cried, "Mother, take off my brother's crown; it pricks me!" And the king's son sat in his corner, and cried to himself with grief over the harm that his step-mother's wickedness had brought about.

"Mother," cried the queen's son again, "night and day since I have worn it, it pricks me; I cannot sleep!"

But the queen's heart was still hard; not if she could help, would she yet take off from her son the crown.

Hours went by, and the queen and her son grew hungry. "We shall be starved to death!" she cried. "Now I see what a wicked woman I am!"

"Mother," cried the queen's son, "someone is putting food into my mouth!" "No one," said the queen, "is putting any into mine. Now I know what a wicked woman I am!"

Presently the king's son came to the queen also, and began feeding her. "Someone is putting food into my mouth, now!" cried the queen. "If it is poisoned I shall die in agony! I wish," she said, "I wish I knew your brother were not dead; if I have killed him what a wicked woman I am!"

"Dear step-mother," said the king's son, "I am not dead, I am here."

"Here?" cried the queen, shaking with fright. "Here? not dead! How long have you been here?"

"Days, and days, and days," said the king's son, sadly.

"Ah! if I had only known that!" cried the queen. "Now I know what a wicked woman I am!"

Just then, the trap-door in the roof of the dungeon opened, and a voice called down, "Tell us where is the king's son! If you do not tell us, you shall stay here and starve."

"The king's son is here!" cried the queen.

"A likely story!" answered the gaolers. "Do you think we are going to believe that?" And they shut-to the trap.

The queen's son cried, "Dear brother, come and take back your crown, it pricks so!" But the king's son only undid the queen's bonds and his brother's. "Now," said he, "you are free: you can kill me now."

"Oh!" cried the queen, "what a wicked woman I must be! Do you think I could do it now?" Then she cried, "O little son, bring your poor head to me, and I will take off the crown!" and she took off the crown and gave it back to the king's son. "When I am dead," she said, "remember, and be kind to him!"

The king's son put the crown upon his own head.

Suddenly, outside the palace, all the land broke into leaf; there was a rushing sound in the river of fishes swimming up from the sea, and all the air was loud and dark with flights of returning birds. Almost at the same moment the foxes began to disappear and diminish, and cease to be like locusts in the land.

People came running to open the door of the deepest and darkest dungeon in the palace: "For either," they cried, "the queen is dead, or the king's son has been found!"

"Where is the king's son, then?" they called out, as they threw wide the door. "He is here!" cried the king; and out he came, to the astonishment of all, wearing his crown, and leading his step-mother and half-brother by the hand.

He looked at his step-mother, and she was quite white; as white as the mouse that had jumped upon the king's bed at midnight bidding him fly for his life. Not only her face, but her hair, her lips, and her very eyes were white and colourless, for she had gone blind from gazing too hard into her crystal ball, and hunting the king's son to death.

So she remained blind to the end of her days; but the king was more good to her than gold, and as for his brother, never did half-brothers love each other better than these. Therefore they all lived very happily together, and after a long time, the queen learned to forget what a wicked woman she had been.

***************** 

This is part of a series of postings of stories under the category, "Keeping the Public in Public Domain."  The idea behind Public Domain was to preserve our cultural heritage after the authors and their immediate heirs were compensated.  I feel strongly current copyright law delays this intent on works of the 20th century.  My own library of folklore includes so many books within the Public Domain I decided to share stories from them.  I hope you enjoy discovering new stories.  

At the same time, my own involvement in storytelling regularly creates projects requiring research as part of my sharing stories with an audience.  Whenever that research needs to be shown here, the publishing of Public Domain stories will not occur that week.  This is a return to my regular posting of a research project here.  (Don't worry, this isn't dry research, my research is always geared towards future storytelling to an audience.)  Response has convinced me that "Keeping the Public in Public Domain" should continue along with my other postings as often as I can manage it.

Other Public Domain story resources I recommend-

• There are many online resources for Public Domain stories, maybe none for folklore is as ambitious as fellow storyteller, Yoel Perez's database, Yashpeh, the International Folktales Collection.  I have long recommended it and continue to do so.  He has loaded Stith Thompson's Motif Index into his server as a database so you can search the whole 6 volumes for whatever word or expression you like by pressing one key. http://folkmasa.org/motiv/motif.htm

• You may have noticed I'm no longer certain Dr. Perez has the largest database, although his offering the Motif Index certainly qualifies for those of us seeking specific types of stories.  There's another site, FairyTalez claiming to be the largest, with "over 2000 fairy tales, folktales, and fables" and they are "fully optimized for phones, tablets, and PCs", free and presented without ads.
  Between those two sites, there is much for story-lovers, but as they say in infomercials, "Wait, there's more!"

The email list for storytellers, Storytell, discussed Online Story Sources and came up with these additional suggestions:        

         - David K. Brown - http://people.ucalgary.ca/~dkbrown/stories.html

         - Karen Chace - http://karenchace.blogspot.com/search?q=public+domain

         - Richard Martin - http://www.tellatale.eu/tales_page.html

         - Spirit of Trees - http://spiritoftrees.org/featured-folktales

         - Story-Lovers - http://www.story-lovers.com/ is now only accessible through the Wayback Machine, described below, but the late Jackie Baldwin's wonderful site lives on there, fully searchable manually (the Google search doesn't work), at https://archive.org/ .  It's not easy, but go to Story-lovers.com snapshot for December 22 2016  and you can click on SOS: Searching Out Stories to scroll down through the many story topics and click on the story topic that interests you.

       - Tim Sheppard - http://www.timsheppard.co.uk/story/storylinks.html

       - World of Tales - http://www.worldoftales.com/ 

 
           - Zalka Csenge Virag - http://multicoloreddiary.blogspot.com doesn't give the actual stories, but her recommendations, working her way through each country on a continent, give excellent ideas for finding new books and stories to love and tell.

     
You're going to find many of the links on these sites have gone down, BUT go to the Internet Archive Wayback Machine to find some of these old links.  Tim's site, for example, is so huge probably updating it would be a full-time job.  In the case of Story-Lovers, it's great that Jackie Baldwin set it up to stay online as long as it did after she could no longer maintain it.  Possibly searches maintained it.  Unfortunately Storytell list member, Papa Joe is on both Tim Sheppard's site and Story-Lovers, but he no longer maintains his old Papa Joe's Traveling Storytelling Show website and his Library (something you want to see!) is now only on the Wayback Machine.  It took some patience working back through claims of snapshots but finally in December of 2006 it appears!

Somebody as of this writing whose stories can still be found by his website is the late Chuck Larkin - http://chucklarkin.com/stories.html.  I prefer to list these sites by their complete address so they can be found by the Wayback Machine, a.k.a. Archive.org, when that becomes the only way to find them.

You can see why I recommend these to you. 

Have fun discovering even more stories