Skinner - (Wyandotte) Legend of the Sun, Moon, and Stars - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

Summer is definitely starting up. The other day I was driving along and saw a turtle trying to cross the road. That tells me they are up and about for the season, but the trick is to keep them from getting hit as they plod to another water spot! I put on my emergency blinkers and headed back to pick him up. A large RV on the other side of the road swerved away from him. I went to carefully pick it up and discovered the round ones are the Snapping Turtles! YIKES! Another driver came up and she said I should keep using my foot to nudge it along. Nobody had a shovel (must remember to put one in my car for turtles and possums). Progress was minimal when another woman came up with a cloth tote bag! I was able to scoop the turtle in and deliver it to the side where it wanted to go. <SIGH!> Before I got back in my car I looked and saw a long line of vehicles in each direction. Didn't see the turtle, but hope it stays on its new side for a long time.

Common snapping turtle facts

Wikipedia.org about Cultural depictions of turtles has a worldwide look at the turtle throughout the world and mentions "In the stories of many Indigenous groups of North America, the World Turtle carries the Earth upon its back." It goes on to talk about the turtle going down in the water to bring up sand or mud to create the earth. The Wyandot people send turtle in a different direction in a lovely astronomical tale I think you will often remember as you see the night sky and all its changes. This version is found in The Turquoise Story Book, the summer anthology by the Skinner sisters, Ada and Eleanor (they did one for each season and a bit more!) 

LEGEND OF THE SUN, MOON, AND
STARS
 
(WYANDOTTE)

There was a time when the Indians called the Little Turtle, the Keeper of the Heavens. That was when the Indians thought the earth was a Great Island, which rested upon the Big Turtle's back. It came about in this way. When the Great Island was first made there were no Sun and no Moon and no Stars. In order to know what to do the old Turtle called a meeting of all the animals. When they had all gathered together the old Turtle told them that there was no light. After a long discussion as to what could be done to mend matters the animals grew weary and were about to go home and let the Great Island continue in darkness, when the Little Turtle spoke up and said: "If I were able to climb into the sky I could gather some of the lightning and make light."

"Go," said Big Turtle. "It will do no harm to try."

Now the Little Turtle had very great powers for, as soon as he had made up his mind to go, a vast cloud full of thunder and lightning slowly rolled down toward the animals, and came so near that Little Turtle climbed into it and was soon carried into the Sky.

As soon as Little Turtle arrived there he went around and gathered as much as he could of the lightning and kindled a great round flame, which stood still in the Sky. But it did not light all of the Great Island. The Sun, as Little Turtle had made it, was not satisfactory, so another meeting of all the animals was called. To this Council Little Turtle came in the cloud.

It was decided to give the Sun life and spirit, so that he could run about the Sky by day. Some animals were told to bore a hole through the earth so that the Sun could go through it and be back in the East by night.

This the animals did. But the Sun sometimes loitered in this earth passage and too often the world was left in total darkness. Again the animals were dissatisfied, and a third meeting was called to decide the best plan and to scold the Sun for his neglect.

To this third meeting the Sun and the Little Turtle and all the other animals came. They decided then and there that the Little Turtle should make the Sun a wife, and that she should shine while he was going back to the East through the earth passage.

Then the Little Turtle made the Moon, and gave her as a wife to the Sun. She was smaller and not so powerful as he. You can see her in the Sky. The Stars that run about the Sky are their many children.

One day the Moon ran into the earth passage earlier than she should have done, and before the Sun himself had passed through. So offended was he that he robbed her of all her heat and much of her light, and she was never able to keep pace with him in the Sky.

Not knowing why her light had grown dim, or what had become of her, the Little Turtle went out to see what was the matter. He found the Moon lingering along the underground trail. There was just a little light and heat left to her, and barely a strip of her once glorious body—just as much as one sees of the new Moon nowadays.

Little Turtle brought her out and tried to mend her. But it was of no use. She would become better for a time and then relapse. Soon she would improve again until she was almost as strong as ever she had been; then again she would begin to fade away until at last only a tiny strip was left of her, and she had almost no heat. And this trick of changing has been repeated many, many times. Indeed, to this day the Moon continually changes her shape.

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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 20^th 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 them.

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.

See the sidebar for other Public Domain story resources I recommend on the page “Public Domain Story Resources."

 

Skinner - Naming the Winds - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

No matter what the calendar says, today is WINDSday!

The Skinner sisters, Ada and Eleanor, have often appeared here. I love their seasonal books with a jewel name. Today's story is from The Pearl Story Book; Stories and Legends of Winter, Christmas and New Year's Day. While winter is a long way from the time called "When Winter and Spring Met", This story retold by Ada Skinner seems to fit our weather. 

The book in its Table of Contents lists this story as being retold by Ada Skinner. A bit of searching using the names to track the origin of the story led me to find it is an Iroquois tale. I also found a second telling of it at Warpaths2peacepipes.com also calling it an Iroquois story. They cite the Frances Jenkins Olcott version titled "How the Four Winds Were Named" from her The Red Indian Fairy Book. The Warpaths2PeacePipes home page gives a wide variety of information about the various Native American tribes, but nothing about the origin of the site, only that the site's author is Linda Alchin. Between the two versions may the wind blow gently on your own re-telling.

by Rubaiat Habib on Pinterest

NAMING THE WINDS

(Indian Legend)

Ga-oh the great master of the winds decided to choose his helpers from the animals of the earth. He blew a strong blast that shook the rocks and hills and when his reverberating call had ceased its thunderous echoes he opened the north gate wide across the sky and called Ya-o-gah, the Bear.

Lumbering over the mountains as he pushed them from his path, Ya-o-gah, the bulky bear, who had battled the boisterous winds as he came, took his place at Ga-oh’s gate and waited the mission of his call. Said Ga-oh, “Ya-o-gah, you are strong; you can freeze the waters with your cold breath; in your broad arms you can carry the wild tempests, and clasp the whole earth when I bid you destroy. I will place you in my far North, there to watch the herd of my winter winds when I loose them in the sky. You shall be North Wind. Enter your home.” And the bear lowered his head for the leash with which Ga-oh bound him, and submissively took his place in the north sky.

In a gentler voice Ga-oh called Ne-o-ga, the Fawn, and a soft breeze as of the summer crept over the sky; the air grew fragrant with the odour of flowers, and there were voices as of babbling brooks telling the secrets of the summer to the tune of birds, as Ne-o-ga came proudly lifting her head.

Said Ga-oh, “You walk with the summer sun, and know all its paths; you are gentle, and kind as the sunbeam, and will rule my flock of the summer winds in peace. You shall be the South Wind. Bend your head while I leash you to the sky, for you are swift, and might return from me to the earth.” And the gentle Fawn followed Ga-oh to his great gate which opens the south sky.

Again Ga-oh trumpeted a shrill blast, and all the sky seemed threatening; an ugly darkness crept into the clouds that sent them whirling in circles of confusion. A quarrelsome, shrieking voice snarled through the air, and with a sound as of great claws tearing the heavens into rifts, Da-jo-ji, the Panther, sprang to the gate.

Said Ga-oh, “You are ugly, and fierce, and can fight the strong storms; you can climb the high mountains, and tear down the forests; you can carry the whirlwind on your strong back, and toss the great sea waves high in the air, and snarl at the tempests if they stray from my gate. You shall be the West Wind. Go to the west sky, where even the Sun will hurry to hide when you howl your warning to the night.” And Da-jo-ji, dragging his leash as he stealthily crept along, followed Ga-oh to the furthermost west sky.

Yet Ga-oh rested not. The earth was flat, and in each of its four corners he must have an assistant. One corner yet remained, and again Ga-oh’s strong blast shook the earth. And there arose a moan like the calling of a lost mate; the sky shivered in a cold rain; the whole earth clouded in mist; a crackling sound as of great horns crashing through the forest trees dinned the air, and O-yan-do-ne, the Moose, stood stamping his hoofs at the gate.

Said Ga-oh, as he strung a strong leash around his neck, “Your breath blows the mist, and can lead the cold rains; your horns spread wide, and can push back the forests to widen the path for my storms as with your swift hoofs you race with my winds. You shall be the East Wind, and blow your breath to chill the young clouds as they float through the sky.” Said Ga-oh as he led him to the east sky, “Here you shall dwell forevermore.”

Thus, with his assistants, does Ga-oh control his storms. And although he must ever remain in his sky lodge, his will is supreme, and his faithful assistants will obey!

*** 

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 20^th 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 them.

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.

See the sidebar for other Public Domain story resources I recommend on the page “PublicDomain Story Resources."

Skinner - The Story That Had No End - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

Today, November 9th is "Chaos Never Dies Day." While some might point to the U.S. election or how hectic this time of year is, as a storyteller I wanted something storytelling related. I instantly knew a form of the story I wanted and think it's appropriate as today I will be at the last remaining Michigan storytelling festival, the second annual Michigan Bright Water Storytelling Festival. 

If you're unable to go, know that you can attend the meeting of the Bright Water Tellers as they are a virtual storytelling guild and anyone interested in storytelling or story listening may attend the virtual meetings. They say:Meetings are the first Monday of each month via Zoom at 7:00pm Central/5:00pm Eastern/6:00pm Mountain/4:00 pm Pacific on Zoom (but that seems a bit chaotic in listing the time zones.) This is a free event open to all, but you must register with the link. Back during Covid I realized virtual telling was not why I told stories. For me only live storytelling gives me the reason why I tell stories. 

For that reason and for the "Chaos Never Dies Day" only this story fits. I've known it in various ways of telling it, but the Skinner sisters handle it so thoroughly and well in their Merry Tales. Feel free to tell it your way!

THE STORY THAT HAD NO END

Once upon a time there was a king who was so fond of hearing stories told that he would listen to them all day long. He cared for no other kind of amusement and he was always angry when the story came to an end. “Your stories are too short,” he said to the many story-tellers who tried to amuse him. Indeed no one had ever been found who was able to tell him a story that lasted long enough.

All the people of his court had tried again and again to please him. Some had told stories that lasted three months, some had told stories that lasted six months, and a few courtiers had been able to carry on their stories for one whole year. Still the king complained, for sooner or later the story was sure to come to an end.

 

At last he sent out the following proclamation to all the people of his kingdom:

PROCLAMATION

TO THE MAN WHO WILL TELL ME A STORY WHICH SHALL LAST FOREVER, I WILL GIVE THE PRINCESS, MY DAUGHTER, IN MARRIAGE; ALSO, I WILL MAKE THE SUCCESSFUL ONE MY HEIR AND HE SHALL BE KING AFTER ME. BUT MARK, LET NO MAN PRETEND THAT HE CAN DO SO, AND FAIL; FOR, IF THE STORY COMES TO AN END, THE STORY-TELLER SHALL BE THROWN INTO PRISON. THE KING.

The king’s daughter was a very beautiful princess, and there were many suitors in the kingdom who came to the court in hope of winning such a prize. But it was all of no use. Each tried as hard as he could to spin the story out, but sooner or later it came to an end and the unfortunate one met the fate the king had threatened.

This grieved the princess very much, and each time she begged the king to lighten the punishment of the poor story-teller who had risked so much for her sake.

At last one man sent word to the king that he had a story which would last forever and ever, and that he was ready to come to the court at once. On hearing this the princess sent for the man and warned him of his danger. She begged him not to be so rash as to try the king’s patience, for no one had ever pleased his majesty, and she feared he would meet the fate of all those who had tried and failed. But he said he was not afraid, and he asked to be taken at once before the king.

“So you are the man who is to tell me a story that will have no end?” said the king.

“If it please your majesty,” answered the man.

“If you can do this, you shall be king after me, and you shall marry the princess, my daughter. But if you fail, you shall be cast into prison.”

“I understand, O king. I have a story about locusts which I shall be pleased to tell you.”

“Very well. Begin the story.”

The story-teller began his tale.

“O king, there was once a ruler who was a great tyrant. He wished to be the richest in the land, so he seized all the corn and grain in his kingdom and had it stored away. Year after year he did this until all his granaries were filled full. But one year there came a swarm of locusts and they discovered where all the grain had been stored. After a long search, they found near the top of the granary a very small hole that was just large enough for one locust at a time to pass through. So one locust went in and carried off one grain of corn; then another locust went in and carried off one grain of corn; then another locust went in and carried off one grain of corn; then another locust went in and carried off one grain of corn—”

Thus the story-teller went on day after day, week after week, from morning till night. After hearing about the locusts for nearly a year the king became rather tired of them, patient though he was, and one day he interrupted the story-teller with:

“Yes, yes, we’ve had enough of those locusts. Let us take for granted that they got all the grain they wanted. Now go on with the story. What happened afterwards?”

“If it please your majesty, I cannot tell you what happened afterwards until I have told you all that took place in the beginning. I go on with the story. Then another locust went in and carried off one grain of corn; then another locust went in and carried off one grain of corn.”

Another month passed by. At the end of this time the king asked impatiently, “Come, sir, how long will it take those locusts to carry away all the corn?”

“O king, I cannot tell. They have cleared away but a small space round the inside of the hole, and there are still thousands and thousands of locusts on the outside. Have patience, O king, there are enough grains for each locust to have one, and in time they, no doubt, will all pass in and each in turn carry away one grain of corn. Permit me, O king, to go on with my story. Then another locust went in and carried off one grain of corn; then another locust went in and carried off one grain of corn—”

“Stop, stop,” called out the king at last. “I cannot stand those locusts any longer. Take my kingdom, be king after me, marry my daughter, take everything, only never let me hear about those ridiculous locusts again.”

So the story-teller married the princess and succeeded to the throne upon the death of the king.

***

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 20^th 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 them.

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.

See the sidebar for other Public Domain story resources I recommend on the page “PublicDomain Story Resources."

Skinner - Why Roses Have Thorns - Keeping the Public Domain

Years ago I tried to outsmart a dog who liked to dig next to the foundation of my house. A nearby garden center suggested "carpet roses." The thorns were predicted to stop him.  They didn't, but a fence around the roses did.  He's no longer alive, but a memory of many wonderful years.  I still have the roses to enjoy and remind me that while he was indeed a wonderful dog, he wasn't perfect.  (That helps keep the comparison fair next to our present dog.)

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Today's story is about roses and their thorns from the summer anthology The Turquoise Story Book : Stories and Legends of Summer and Nature and was adapted by Eleanor Skinner from Algonquin Indian Tales, by Egerton R. Young.

by Micah Tindell on Unsplash

WHY ROSES HAVE THORNS
 
(ALGONQUIN LEGEND)

In the far-off days of long ago roses had no thorns. The branches of the bushes and the flower stems were smooth and delicate and made delicious food for the animals. They greedily ate the leaves, stems, and lovely blossoms; sometimes, indeed, they devoured the entire plant.

With grief the roses saw that each year the number of bushes was growing fewer and they feared the time would come when there would be none of their blossoms left to gladden the summer days. At last they held a council to see if anything could be done to prevent the animals from destroying the bushes. But no one could think of a way out of the difficulty.

"We must go to Manabozho, the Great 328Chief," said one of them. "He will advise us what to do."

Accordingly, it was decided that several messengers, chosen from the council, should seek the Great Chief and tell him how the animals were fast destroying the roses.

It was no easy matter to find Manabozho, for while he lived on earth among the Red Men he took many disguises. They who sought him were carried by the swiftest wind through valleys and meadows and far over the hilltops. All along the path of their journey, whenever they asked the question, "Where shall we find Manabozho?" they received the same answer, "Travel on toward the sunrise. There you will find the Great Chief. He is tending a wonderful garden."

At last one morning they saw the sun shining on a marvellous garden where vegetables grew in abundance. There were beds of cucumbers and squash, rows of corn and beans, and many other plants, whose names the messengers did not know. And what surprised them most was the beautiful hedge of rose-bushes which surrounded the garden. They 329looked anxiously for the Great Gardener Chief but he was nowhere to be seen. Silently the messengers hid themselves in a forest which grew near, for they believed Manabozho would soon return. The thought of talking to him filled them with awe, but they were determined to be brave and tell him their mission.

"He values roses or he would not have chosen them for his garden hedge," they whispered, looking with pride at the beauty of the flowering bushes.

While they were waiting a surprising thing happened. In the forest they heard quiet, stealthy steps approaching. Soon they saw a procession of animals from the woods. There were field mice, squirrels, rabbits, foxes, coyotes, elks, and bears, all making their way to Manabozho's garden. They were sniffing the air as if they scented something delicious. On they came until they reached the rose-hedge where they stopped to taste the dainty, fragrant leaves. Various cries of satisfaction were uttered and immediately they began feasting on the delicate bushes. Leaves, flowers, 330and stems were all devoured and in a short time not one bit of the rose-hedge around the Great Chief's garden was left. It could not have disappeared more completely if Manabozho himself had cut it down. The dainty morsel of the rose-hedge, however, was not enough to satisfy the hunger of the animals from the woods. They turned their attention to the vegetables and were devouring the very choicest of them when suddenly the smaller animals pricked up their ears and listened. The next moment they scuttled away as fast as they could into the forest. The larger animals took this for a sign of danger and hurried after them.

In a little while the messengers of the Rose Council heard a loud voice singing. Manabozho was returning from his adventure. As he drew near his song ceased for he saw that destruction had come to his precious garden. His rage was terrible! In a voice which shook the neighboring hillsides he declared he would punish the intruders. He was particularly grieved at the destruction of his rose-hedge which he valued not only for its beauty 331but because he believed it was a means of protection to his garden.

When the messengers saw this they came forward and stated the object of their journey. Manabozho listened with eager interest while one of them told the story of the rapidly decreasing number of rose-bushes.

"Great Manabozho," said the speaker, "the animals of the woods find rose-bushes such delicious food that they eat blossoms, leaves, and stems. Our number is decreasing so rapidly that in a little while there will be none left to gladden the earth. The destruction of your hedge proves how ruthlessly the animals destroy us. Help us, O Chief! Devise some plan to protect us."

"You shall, indeed, have my help," said Manabozho, thoughtfully.

For some time the chief was silent. Then he said, "I'll give you weapons and you shall protect yourselves. Sharp thorns shall grow on your branches and needle-like prickles shall cover the stems which hold your lovely blossoms. While you are armed with these, 332the cruel animals will not venture to touch you."

The messengers thanked Manabozho with all their hearts. Delighted with his gift, they hastened back to tell the Council how the Great Chief had saved the roses of the world. Ever since that day roses have had thorns.

Adapted from Algonquin Indian Tales, by Egerton R. Young. Copyright, 1903, by Egerton R. Young. Reprinted by permission of the Abingdon Press, Publishers.

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If you are looking to find seasonal material in the Public Domain, Duffield and Company in the early Twentieth Century produced a series of books known as the Jewel Series.  Many of them are anthologies specifically about the seasons by Ada M. Skinner and Eleanor L. Skinner with three not about the seasons by Penrhyn W. Coussens. 

The Jewel Series:

THE DIAMOND STORY BOOK. Compiled by Penrhyn W. Coussens. Illustrations in color by Ethel Green.

THE EMERALD STORY BOOK. Stories of Spring, Nature, and Easter. By Ada and Eleanor Skinner. Frontispiece in color by Maxfield Parrish.

THE RUBY STORY BOOK. Tales of Courage and Heroism. Retold by Penrhyn W. Coussens. Frontispiece in color by Maxfield Parrish.

THE SAPPHIRE STORY BOOK. Tales of the Sea. Collected and retold by Penrhyn W. Coussens. Frontispiece in color by Maxfield Parrish.

THE TOPAZ STORY BOOK. Stories and Legends of Autumn, Hallowe’en, and Thanksgiving. Compiled by Ada M. and Eleanor L. Skinner. Frontispiece in color by Maxfield Parrish.

THE TURQUOISE STORY BOOK. Stories and Legends of Summer and Nature. By Ada M. and Eleanor L. Skinner. Frontispiece in color by Maxfield Parrish.

THE PEARL STORY BOOK. Stories and Legends of Winter, Christmas and New Year’s Day. Compiled by Ada M. and Eleanor L. Skinner. Frontispiece in color by Maxfield Parrish.

THE GARNET STORY BOOK. Tales of Cheer both Old and New. Compiled by Ada M. and Eleanor L. Skinner. Frontispiece in color by Dugald S. Walker.

THE JADE STORY BOOK. Stories from the Orient. Compiled by Penrhyn W. Coussens. Frontispiece in color by Dugald Stewart Walker.

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Marzials - Holly - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

I have a new resource I am delighted to find and share:  https://www.venetiajane.co.uk/  (and https://twitter.com/VenetiaJane where I first found her and today's illustration.)  Like VenetiaJane, it will always be Twitter to me.  X can mean too many things and is so impersonal.  She shares the wonders of flowers and nature, gardening, plant history, folklore, art, and poetry accompanied by her photography.  Her photographs are available on note cards,Christmas cards, prints and calendars.  That photography also supports  a few related charities in the United Kingdom. 

Her December 1 "tweet" about holly had this photograph which almost looks like a painting.

Going to her website for the Holly notecard, be sure to scroll down to the "Floral Notes."  It will give you additional folklore and yet another legend about this plant seen at this time of year.

Today's story comes from yet another of the Skinner sisters' books of seasonal stories with a jewel name, The Pearl Story Book; Stories and Legends of Winter, Christmas, and New Year's Day.  There are two stories of "Holly."  This is the second, found in the section of "Christmas Everywhere." The earlier one by Janet Harvey Kelman in the "Winter Woods" section is more factual, but this blog is all about the stories. It's a story not only about Christmas, but also about peace and war and is most appropriate this year.

HOLLY

Ada M. Marzials

Highty-tighty, Paradighty, Clothèd all in green. The King could not read it No more could the Queen. They sent for a Wise Man out of the East, Who said it had horns but was not a beast. (Old Riddle.)

There was once upon a time a very war-like kingdom where they had never heard of Christmas. The men spent all their days fighting, and the women spent their days in urging the warriors to further deeds of valour.

This had gone on for a very long time, and no one had ever yet said that he was tired of it. There was but one person in the whole kingdom who had openly declared that war was hateful, but as she was only the Youngest Princess nobody paid any heed to her.

Then came a time, just before our Christmas Day, when the King was preparing a great campaign against a far-off country. He called together his Council of War—grave old warriors, dressed completely in armour.

“My friends,” said he, “we are about to wage war on the distant kingdoms of Zowega. Up till this time the people of that country have been our very good friends, but as we have now conquered all our enemies, there seems no one but our friends left to fight, and of these the King of the Zowegians is chief.

“You will remember that his youngest son, Prince Moldo, spent some of his boyhood at our court in order to gain instruction in feats of arms, and that the Prince left us to travel over the world. A few months ago his father sent word to me that the Prince had returned home, bringing with him the news of a Pearl of Great Price, which contained the Secret of Happiness. It is this Pearl which I have made the excuse for war, for I have demanded it in payment for the services that we rendered to Prince Moldo. In my message I have said that if the Pearl, and the Secret which it contains, are not brought and revealed to us here within the next five days, our troops will descend upon the kingdom of Zowega and wipe it off the face of the earth.”

Loud and long cheered the Council at the speech of their King, as, indeed, was their duty, though in their hearts of hearts they had no wish to fight against the King of the Zowegians, who was their very good friend. The Queen and the Princesses smiled graciously upon them, all save the Youngest Princess, who had been Prince Moldo’s playfellow. She disgraced herself by bursting into passionate tears, and was forthwith ordered out of the Council Hall.

At the end of five days the Council once more assembled to await the arrival of the messenger with the answer from the King of Zowega.

The day was bright and cold, and there was snow on the ground. The King and Queen were wrapped in thick fur cloaks. The Princesses were all assembled, too, even the Youngest, who was dressed in ermine and looked as pale as death.

It was Christmas Eve, but there were no Christmas trees preparing and no presents. No one was thinking of hanging his stockings up. The Hall was not decorated, neither were the churches; indeed, there were no churches to decorate, for, as you remember, the people in this kingdom knew nothing about Christmas.

The Council sat and waited in the big bare Hall.

At last the great doors were flung open, there was a blast of trumpets, and the messenger appeared.

He was tall and fair, and held himself proudly. His eyes were bright and shining and there was a smile upon his face. He was completely dressed in bright green and the Council noted with astonishment that he was without armour of any kind. He wore neither breastplate, shield nor helmet; he had neither sword by his side, nor spurs on his feet. He was bare-headed, and in his right hand he carried something green, horny and prickly, with little red dots on it.

Looking neither to the right nor to the left, he walked with firm and steady step up the long Hall between the rows of armed warriors.

As he passed the Youngest Princess she blushed deeply, but he did not seem to notice her.

When he reached the throne he bowed low before the King and Queen, and laid the prickly object on the table before them.

“Your Majesty,” said he in a clear, ringing voice. “From the King of Zowega, greeting! He sends you this token. It is the symbol of the Secret of Happiness.”

The King stared, so did the Queen.

They had expected a Pearl of Great Price, accompanied by a scroll on which was written the Secret of Happiness, and the King of Zowega had sent them this!

Amid dead silence the King took the token up in his hands in order to examine it more carefully.

He dropped it hastily, for it pricked him, and little drops of blood were seen starting from his hand.

“Highty-tighty!” said he. “’Tis surely some kind of beast and a symbol of war, for it pricked me right smartly. Truly the King of Zowega deals in riddles which I for one cannot read! Take it, my dear,” added he to the Queen and pointing to the token; “perchance your quick wits may be able to understand this mystery.”

She picked up the token and examined it carefully.

It rather resembled the branch of a tree, but the leaves were thick and resisting and edged with very sharp spikes, and there was on it a cluster of round, bright red objects like tiny balls. But even as it had pricked the King so did it prick her, and she dropped it hastily into the lap of the Eldest Princess, who was sitting beside her.

“Paradighty!” exclaimed the Queen in her own language. “It is certainly a beast. See, it has horns!” and she pointed to the spikes.

“But I certainly cannot read the riddle—if riddle it be.”

Then it was passed to all the Princesses in turn, but they could not read the token any more than could the King and Queen. At last it reached the Youngest Princess, and, though it pricked her little hands sorely, she took it up tenderly and kissed it.

“’Tis a token of love,” said she.

The messenger turned his shining eyes full upon her.

“The Princess has read the riddle of the token aright,” said he, and he stepped forward as though to kiss her hand.

“Stay!” said the King imperiously springing to his feet. “A token of love, forsooth! But I sent the King of Zowega a Declaration of War! What does he mean by sending me a token of love? The Princess must certainly be mistaken—and as for you,” he continued, turning fiercely to the messenger, “you shall be marched off to prison until we have had time to consult with our Wise Men as to the real meaning of this extraordinary token.”

So there and then the messenger was marched off to spend the night in prison, and all the Wise Men in the kingdom were bidden to appear in the Council Chamber the very next day, especially one very old Wise Man from the East who was reputed to be wiser than all the others put together.

The next day, of course, was Christmas Day, but, as these people had never heard of Christmas, there were no bells ringing, no carols were sung, and there was neither holly, ivy nor mistletoe upon the walls.

Slowly and painfully the Wise Men began to arrive.

They were all dressed alike, in black flowing robes, and on their heads they wore long pointed black caps covered with weird devices.

The very old Wise Man from the East wore a red pointed cap, but in all other respects was dressed just like the others.

They assembled round a large circular table at one end of the Hall. In the middle of the table was placed the token.

At the other end of the Hall were gathered the warriors, and above them on a double throne sat the King and Queen with the Princesses grouped on either side of the dais.

The Wise Men examined the token in silence.

“’Tis a curious beast,” said one of them at last.

“Of a new and quite unheard-of species,” said another.

“It has neither legs nor tail,” said a third.

“Yet it has a number of globular red eyes,” said a fourth.

“And it certainly has horns,” said a fifth.

And so said they all, until it came to the turn of the very old Wise Man from the East.

He looked long at the token.

“It has horns,” said he at last, “but it is not a beast.”

“Not a beast!” said they, one to the other.

“But what is it then?”

“It is a token of love,” said he.

“Highty-tighty,” interrupted the King. “Read us then the full meaning of the token.”

“I cannot,” said the very old Wise Man; “but let the youth be brought hither who carried it. He will be able to explain it more fully than I.”

“Paradighty!” said the Queen in her own language. “Why did we not think of that before! Fetch him back again at once!”

So two of the warriors fetched the youth from prison, and he was soon standing before the Assembly, with his head held as high and his eyes as bright and shining as before.

“Read us the token!” commanded the King.

The youth bowed low. “The Princess read it aright yesterday. It is a token of love.”

“Explain yourself!” said the King. “How can a beast with horns be a token of love?”

The youth drew himself up to his full height.

“It is not a beast,” said he. “It is the branch of a holly-tree. On this day of the year, which in my country we call Christmas Day, our people decorate their houses with branches of this holly or holy tree as a token of love and peace and good-will. This is the message that I have brought to you—a message that we in our country know very well, but which you have never heard before.”

The King and the Warriors, the Wise Men, the Queen and Princesses all listened to his words in silence.

When he had ended there was a long pause.

“And in what particular way does your message affect us?” said the King at last.

“Thus, your Majesty,” answered the youth, approaching the Youngest Princess and taking both her hands in his, “on this day I, Prince Moldo, would have peace and good-will between my kingdom and your kingdom; and I would seal it for ever by taking the Youngest Princess home with me as my bride. You, O King, recognized me not, for I have much changed since I lived here with her for playfellow, but in all my wanderings I found a Pearl of no greater price than this, and I would proclaim to all the world that the Secret of Happiness is Love.”

So on that very Christmas Day they were married, amid great rejoicings, and war ceased throughout the kingdom. And on every Christmas Day for ever after, the people of that country decorated their houses with holly, the symbol of love and peace and good-will, and wished each other a Merry Christmas, even as I do now to you.

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

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

 

Cooke - Golden-rod and Aster - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

It's beautiful seeing the goldenrod and purple asters decorating roadsides and fields right now.

Lately I've been looking a lot at The Topaz Story Book's many stories for autumn. So when I went looking for stories about goldenrod and asters I was delighted to see a story about both plants in the same tale.  I also saw it was in The Topaz Story Book.  Read it there and noted it was "adapted."  Since the original author, Flora J. Cooke, was also easily located at Project Gutenberg, I compared the two.  Differences are minimal...almost as if the Skinner sisters wanted to take credit for "adapting" it.  

Ms Cooke was active during the first half of the twentieth century's "Progressive" school movement and especially for the secondary school.  As a result her book title of Nature Myths and Stories with the title continuing as For Little Children I think is a bit misleading as we would apply it today.  Similarly her other book, Greek Myths for Children, might today have a slightly broader audience than the title of the two books implies.  (Another view of her work is an essay at Thefreelibrary.com.)

Here's her story of why these two plants are so often seen together.  May it pop into your head when you see them!

GOLDEN-ROD AND ASTER.

OLDEN HAIR and Blue Eyes lived at the foot of a great hill.

On the top of this hill in a little hut lived a strange, wise woman.

It was said that she could change people into anything she wished. She looked so grim and severe that people were afraid to go near her.

One summer day the two little girls at the foot of the hill thought they would like to do something to make everybody happy.

“I know,” said Golden Hair, “Let us go and ask the woman on the hill about it. She is very wise and can surely tell us just what to do.”

“Oh, yes,” said Blue Eyes, and away they started at once.

It was a warm day and a long walk to the top of the hill.

The little girls stopped many times to rest under the oak trees which shaded their pathway.

They could find no flowers, but they made a basket of oak leaves and filled it with berries for the wise woman.

They fed the fish in the brook and talked to the squirrels and the birds.

They walked on and on in the rocky path.

After a while the sun went down. The birds stopped singing.

The squirrels went to bed.

The trees fell asleep.

Even the wind was resting.

Oh, how still and cool it was on the hillside!

The moon and stars came out.

The frogs and toads awoke.

The night music began.

The beetles and fireflies flew away to a party.

But the tired little children climbed on towards the hilltop.

At last they reached it.

There at the gate was the strange, old woman, looking even more stern than usual.

The little girls were frightened. They clung close together while brave Golden Hair said, “we know you are wise and we came to see if you would tell us how to make everyone happy.”

“Please let us stay together,” said timid Blue Eyes.

As she opened the gate for the children, the wise woman was seen to smile in the moonlight. The two little girls were never seen again at the foot of the hill. The next morning all over the hillside people saw beautiful, waving golden-rod and purple asters growing.

It has been said that these two bright flowers, which grow side by side, could tell the secret, if they would, of what became of the two little girls on that moonlight summer night.

***

The story was also anthologized in Bailey and Lewis's For the Children's Hour; Hall and Gilman's Story Land. 2d reader; McFee's Treasury of Flower Stories;  Pratt's Fairyland of Flowers as well as by the Skinners.  Obviously a sign of a story considered worth "Keeping the Public in Public Domain.

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

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

Beecher - Coming and Going - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

Southeastern Michigan has been what I call "the garden spot of the U.S." this year.  We've barely touched the 90s until this past week.  (I recall starting school in St. Louis -- Missouri, not Michigan -- as summer took its last attack on students stuck in classrooms with the original air conditioning . . . open windows!)  Detroit and Pontiac have shortened school days and Southfield has canceled classes while they work on their air conditioning.  A few days using fans is as close as I've come to wanting air conditioning this summer.  Air conditioning always makes adjusting to the real temperatures outside difficult and, after a time, isn't even comfortable.  Obviously the rest of the country has been a whole different story.

Those 90s this week are about to disappear as we return to our 60s and 70s.  That and seeing a flock of Canadian Geese on our lawn gave me hope that autumn in Michigan is indeed about to start.  

Trees turning colors were hopeful signs, but it's reassuring to know a biological clock in a dozen birds says they need to start their long journey to places with different temperatures.

I'm no real lover of winter, but all the talk of Climate Change makes this seasonal activity beyond the control of humans worth noting.

Just two weeks ago I posted a story from The Topaz Story Book by the Skinner sisters.  The long subtitle for that book is "Stories and Legends of Autumn, Hallowe’en, and Thanksgiving", so it's still worth your checking for months to come.  Back on September 29, 2018 I printed the Henry Ward Beecher story of "The Anxious Leaf" also from The Topaz Story Book.  Today I want to give another brief tale of his that migrating Canadian "Honkers" makes me appreciate.  Geese are certainly not songbirds like in this story, but they, too, leave Michigan for warmer weather.

COMING AND GOING

Henry Ward Beecher

There came to our fields a pair of birds that had never built a nest nor seen a winter. How beautiful was everything! The fields were full of flowers, and the grass was growing tall, and the bees were humming everywhere. Then one of the birds began singing, and the other bird said, “Who told you to sing?” And he answered, “The flowers told me, and the bees told me, and the winds and leaves told me, and the blue sky told me, and you told me to sing.” Then his mate answered, “When did I tell you to sing?” And he said, “Every time you brought in tender grass for the nest, and every time your soft wings fluttered off again for hair and feathers to line the nest.” Then his mate said, “What are you singing about?” And he answered, “I am singing about everything and nothing. It is because I am so happy that I sing.”

By and by five little speckled eggs were in the nest, and his mate said, “Is there anything in all the world as pretty as my eggs?” Then they both looked down on some people that were passing by and pitied them because they were not birds.

In a week or two, one day, when the father-bird came home, the mother-bird said, “Oh, what do you think has happened?” “What?” “One of my eggs has been peeping and moving!” Pretty soon another egg moved under her feathers, and then another and another, till five little birds were hatched! Now the father-bird sang louder and louder than ever. The mother-bird, too, wanted to sing, but she had no time, and so she turned her song into work. So hungry were these little birds that it kept both parents busy feeding them. Away each one flew. The moment the little birds heard their wings fluttering among the leaves, five yellow mouths flew open wide, so that nothing could be seen but five yellow mouths!

“Can anybody be happier?” said the father-bird to the mother-bird. “We will live in this tree always, for there is no sorrow here. It is a tree that always bears joy.”

Soon the little birds were big enough to fly, and great was their parents’ joy to see them leave the nest and sit crumpled up upon the branches. There was then a great time! The two old birds talking and chatting to make the young ones go alone! In a little time they had learned to use their wings, and they flew away and away, and found their own food, and built their own nests, and sang their own songs of joy.

Then the old birds sat silent and looked at each other, until the mother-bird said, “Why don’t you sing?” And he answered, “I can’t sing—I can only think and think.” “What are you thinking of?” “I am thinking how everything changes: the leaves are falling off from this tree, and soon there will be no roof over our heads; the flowers are all going; last night there was a frost; almost all the birds are flown away. Something calls me, and I feel as if I would like to fly far away.”

“Let us fly away together!”

Then they rose silently, and, lifting themselves far up in the air, they looked to the north: far away they saw the snow coming. They looked to the south: there they saw flowers and green leaves! All day they flew; and all night they flew and flew, till they found a land where there was no winter—where flowers always blossom, and birds always sing.

***

Far away that snow is indeed coming.  All too soon I'll be looking forward to it ending, but for now I'll think of this story while hiking with my dog, seeing migrating geese and hearing the last songs of birds. 

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

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