STORY-TELLING 



5575 



STORY-TELLING 



Then some played at hide a'nd seek among the 

 sheaves of ungarnered corn, and some ran glee- 

 fully through the heaped up leaves of russet and 

 gold for joy to hear them rustling. But some, 

 eager, returned home for pennies to buy a loaf 

 when the Queer Little Baker should call. 



So the hour passed, till, above the sound of 

 the rustling corn, and the sounds of all other 

 voices the children heard the Little Baker's call : 

 "The loaves are ready, white and brown, 

 For every little child in town, 

 Come buy Thanksgiving loaves and eat, 

 But only Love can make them sweet." 



Soon all the air was filled with the sound of 

 swift-running feet, as the children flew like a 

 cloud of leaves blown by the wind in answer to 

 the Queer Little Baker's call. When they came 

 to his shop they paused, laughing and whisper- 

 ing, as the Little Baker laid out the loaves on 

 the spotless table. 



"This is mine," said the Biggest Boy, and lay- 

 ing down a silver coin he snatched the great loaf 

 and ran away to break it by himself. 



Then came the Impatient Boy, crying: 



"Give me my loaf. This is mine, and give it 

 to me at once. Do you not see my coin is silver? 

 Do not keep me waiting." 



The Little Baker said never a word. He did 

 not smile, he did not frown, he did not hurry. 

 He gave the Impatient Boy his loaf and watched 

 him, as he, too, hurried away to eat his loaf 

 alone. 



Then came others crowding and pushing with 

 their money, the strongest and rudest gaining 

 first place ; and snatching each a loaf, they 

 ran off to eat without a word of thanks, while 

 some very little children looked on wistfully, not 

 able even to gain a place. All this time the 

 Queer Little Baker kept steadily on, laying out 

 the beautiful loaves on the spotless table. 



A Gentle Lad came, when the crowd grew less, 

 and, giving all the pennies he had, he bought 

 loaves for all the little ones ; so that, by and by, 

 no one was without a loaf. The Tiniest Little 

 Girl went away, hand in hand with the Little 

 Lame Boy to share his wee loaf, and both were 

 smiling, and whoever broke one of those smallest 

 loaves found it larger than it had seemed at first. 



But now the Biggest Boy was beginning to 

 frown. 



"This loaf is sour," he said angrily. 



"But is it not your own loaf," said the Baker, 

 "and did you not choose it yourself, and choose 

 to eat it alone? Do not complain of the loaf, 

 since it is your own choosing." 



Then those who had snatched the loaves un- 

 gratefully and hurried away, without waiting for 

 a word of thanks, came back. 



"We came for good bread," they cried, "but 

 those loaves are sodden and heavy." 



"See the lad there with all those children. His 

 bread is light. Give us, too, light bread and 

 sweet." 



But the Baker smiled a strange smile. 



"You chose in haste," he said, "as those choose 

 who have no thought in sharing. I cannot 

 change your loaves. I cannot choose for you. 

 Had you, buying, forgotten that mine are Thanks- 

 giving loaves? I shall come again; then you can 

 buy more wisely." 



Then these children went away thoughtful. 



But the very little children and the Gentle Lad 

 sat eating their bread with joyous laughter, and 

 each tiny loaf was broken into many pieces as 

 they shared with each other, and to them the 

 bread was as fine as cake and as sweet as honey. 



Then the Queer Little Baker brought cold 

 water and put out the .fire. He folded his spot- 

 less table and took down the boards of his little 

 brown shop, and packed all into his wagon and 

 drove away, singing a quaint tune. Soft winds 

 rustled the corn and swept the boughs together 

 with a musical chuckling. And where the brown 

 leaves were piled thickest, making a little mound, 

 sat the Tiniest Little Girl and the Little Lame 

 Boy eating their sweet currant loaf happily to- 

 gether. 



Androcles and the Lion 



A story of gratitude 



Long, long ago, in Rome, the great theater was 

 crowded to the very top. The emperor, in his 

 gorgeous purple robe, sat in his box with his 

 attendants about him, and all the people, in their 

 best clothes, sat on the marble seats, fairly hold- 

 ing their breath with excitement. For they were 

 to see the sport that they liked best of all a 

 very cruel sport it would seem to us. A run- 

 away slave, who had been recaptured, was to be 

 torn to pieces by a lion, and from the iron cage 

 the roars of the savage beast could be heard from 

 time to time. 



Now the slave was led in, trembling. He fell 

 on his knees in the center of the arena, and 

 raised his clasped hands, pleading for mercy, to- 

 wards the emperor, but the emperor's eyes were 

 cold and hard, and the people shouted, "The lion ! 

 Bring in the lion." 



Suddenly the great doors of the cage beneath 

 the imperial box swung outward. There was a 

 breathless pause, and then, slowly, as though he 

 knew his prey could not escape him, the lion 

 stepped out onto the sand of the arena. He was 

 a lean and hungry lion, for he had been kept 

 without food that he might be the more savage 

 and furnish better sport for the spectators. O, 

 how powerful his claws looked, and how the 

 people who were safe on the high seats trembled 

 as he snarled and showed his white teeth. 



A moment he stood there, lashing his sides 

 with his tail and turning his shaggy head from 

 side to side. And then, suddenly, he spied the 

 slave, crouched on the sand, with bowed head. 

 The great cat began to creep slowly toward his 

 prey, switching his tail and narrowing his eyes. 

 The people scarcely breathed ; would he never 

 spring? Yes, he was crouching now for his leap ! 

 Just then the slave raised his head, and the lion, 

 his powerful muscles already released for the 

 spring, checked himself and fell short. And, 

 marvel of marvels, instead of rushing at the 

 cowering slave with steel claws out, the lion 

 fairly groveled in the sand before him! He 

 rubbed against the man and fondled him with 

 his paws, while the noise of his mighty purring 

 reached to the farthest part of the great theater. 



Then how the people shouted ! And the em- 

 peror, leaning over the railing of his box, beck- 

 oned to the slave to come near. With his hand 

 on the lion's head, the slave approached. 



