Hurston - A pair of Eatonville tales - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

 

Alfreda Harris

 

 

 

My fellow storyteller, the late (I would add great!) Alfreda Harris is on the In Memoriam page of Michigan Storytelling. Black History Month was only part of her storytelling work, but I remember fondly her love of the stories of Zora Neale Hurston. It nudged me to look and see if any of Hurston's work was in Public Domain. Imagine my delight to find eight items, but for retelling The Eatonville Anthology was pure gold!

Before I give a pair of gems from it I really should tell a bit more about Eatonville. This Florida town was very much Hurston's home, weaving its way throughout her life. Nowadays the town runs an annual award-winning festival, Zora!, which is described as  “the longest running arts and humanities festival celebrating the cultural contributions people of African ancestry have made to the world.” My apologies for not discovering it at the beginning of this month when this year's festival was held. It began in 1990 and readers might want to explore it for the future.

Hurston's stories flowed throughout her life, with Eatonville being the spring for the fountain of her writing. This 1926 anthology offers a small flood of tales. Because February is also filled with the celebration of Valentine's Day, a very brief tale of "Turpentine Love" is the opening tale here, followed by another, "The Way of a Man with a Train." (I'm a train lover, even married on one, and couldn't resist!)

Turpentine Love

Jim Merchant is always in good humor—even with his wife. He says he fell in love with her at first sight. That was some years ago. She has had all her teeth pulled out, but they still get along splendidly.

He says the first time he called on her he found out that she was subject to fits. This didn’t cool his love, however. She had several in his presence.

One Sunday, while he was there, she had one, and her mother tried to give her a dose of turpentine to stop it. Accidently, she spilled it in her eye and it cured her. She never had another fit, so they got married and have kept each other in good humor ever since.

The Way of a Man with a Train

Old Man Anderson lived seven or eight miles out in the country from Eatonville. Over by Lake Apopka. He raised feed-corn and cassava and went to market with it two or three times a year. He bought all of his victuals wholesale so he wouldn’t have to come to town for several months more.

He was different from us citybred folks. He had never seen a train. Everybody laughed at him for even the smallest child in Eatonville had either been to Maitland or Orlando and watched a train go by. On Sunday afternoons all of the young people of the village would go over to Maitland, a mile away, to see Number 35 whizz southward on its way to Tampa and wave at the passengers. So we looked down on him a little. Even we children felt superior in the presence of a person so lacking in worldly knowledge.

The grown-ups kept telling him he ought to go see a train. He always said he didn’t have time to wait so long. Only two trains a day passed through Maitland. But patronage and ridicule finally had its effect and Old Man Anderson drove in one morning early. Number 78 went north to Jacksonville at 10:20. He drove his light wagon over in the woods beside the railroad below Maitland, and sat down to wait. He began to fear that his horse would get frightened and run away with the wagon. So he took him out and led him deeper into the grove and tied him securely. Then he returned to his wagon and waited some more. Then he remembered that some of the train-wise villagers had said the engine belched fire and smoke. He had better move his wagon out of danger. It might catch afire. He climbed down from the seat and placed himself between the shafts to draw it away. Just then 78 came thundering over the trestle spouting smoke, and suddenly began blowing for Maitland. Old Man Anderson became so frightened he ran away with the wagon through the woods and tore it up worse than the horse ever could have done. He doesn’t know yet what a train looks like, and says he doesn’t care.

***

I hope the good humor that fills these two brief stories encourages you to look up more of Hurston's work. I know Alfreda would have a big smile on her face if you did.

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

 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 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."

Bailey - Four-Legged Saint Valentine - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

 

It's coming . . . Valentine's Day! As always, you can start finding more than you probably want to know at Wikipedia.  In addition to all the legends and folk traditions I found the section on "Modern Times", which starts at 1797 of interest. It also goes on to talk of specific worldwide celebration, saying "On the United States mainland, about 190 million Valentine's Day cards are sent each year, not including the hundreds of millions of cards school children exchange." Aside from all the types of candy and e-cards, it's good to know it is still an activity in the schools. 

When I went looking for a story, I knew Caroline Sherwin Bailey could be counted on to have at least one. It was interesting to find a story that might take children back to their great grandparents' childhood during World War II. My copy of Merry Tales for Children is the 1943 edition with the earlier 1921 version included. While Bailey gives an editorial note of stories by other authors, this seems to be pure Bailey storytelling. Fortunately Platt & Munk didn't renew the copyright, so both versions are now Public Domain. I love turning to the back jacket flap of my hard cover book where "all the boys and girls of America" are urged to "buy U.S. War Bonds or Stamps. Start now to save for the future and you will be helping your country to win the war." That's definitely worth a bit of discussion along with such things as fountain pens and typewriters in a day when even cursive writing is becoming a relic of the past. Whenever I do my One-Room Schoolteacher program I always have grandparents in the audience talk about having to teach their grandchildren cursive or, at least, how to write a signature. I see it's a skill in demand for genealogy. I also note the way the United States Postal Service has changed. Back then it was twice a day. Today it's still necessary to point out why it should even continue to be week days. 

Save for the end talking about the  "Four-legged Saint Valentine" trained to deliver letters in red envelopes. What an idea! Service dogs continue to exist, but doubt we have the pleasure of having teeth marks on our mail. Hmmm! Wonder if robot dogs of the future will be in schools and libraries to encourage children to practice their reading. Personally I prefer the reactions of an actual dog.

Also after the story I give some dog-related crafts as well as a way to celebrate with your own dog if you are so blessed as to have these Four-Legged Valentines.

***

BestFriends.org has 9 ways to celebrate Valentine's Day with your pets -- they also have information about how they are "on the ground helping Los Angeles pets" after the L.A. wildfires.

Easy puppy paper bag Valentine card holder

or use a Dog Valentine box with printable template 

and a puppy as a Valentine craft 

Whether a dog, cat, or other pet, they are family and deserve our love.

Grimm - Doctor Knowall - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

Saturday, February 1, 2025 has been designated Take Your Child to the Library Day. It started in 2011 and I fully expect your local library will have events showing its intended "fun way to bring community awareness to the library and all the resources and events that are held there throughout the year." To my mind there's nothing better than to hear stories otherwise living in the folktale section of the 398 Dewey number. There are so many collections of folklore from around the world! Looking for a story having fun with the idea of reading took me to a too little known story, "Doctor Knowall."

There are many translations and editions of the various stories collected by the Brothers Grimm. I'm not going to say any one is superior. I chose Grimm's Fairy Tales edited by Frances Jenkins Olcott as it was the only book having today's too little known story with illustrations saved online at Project Gutenberg. Olcott's work has been offered here frequently and this book is true to the story. (I notice she changed the German money to dollars for the sake of U.S. readers.) It's the illustrations that made the selection easy. They are by Marie "Rie" Cramer, a Dutch writer and illustrator, or as Wikipedia calls her "a Dutch writer and prolific illustrator of children's literature whose style is considered iconic for the interwar period." 

That's enough background, on to the story!

DOCTOR KNOWALL

There was once on a time, a poor peasant called Crab, who drove two oxen with a load of wood to town, and sold it to a doctor for two dollars.

When the money was being counted out to him, it so happened that the doctor was sitting at table, and when the peasant saw how daintily he ate and drank, his heart desired what he saw, and he would willingly have been a doctor. So he remained standing a while, and at length inquired if he, too, could not be a doctor.

“Oh, yes,” said the doctor, “that is soon managed.”

“What must I do?” asked the peasant.

“In the first place, buy yourself an A B C book of the kind which has a cock on the frontispiece. In the second, turn your cart and your two oxen into money, and get yourself some clothes, and whatsoever else pertains to medicine. Thirdly, have a sign painted with the words, ‘I am Doctor Knowall,’ and have that nailed up above your house-door.”

The peasant did everything that he had been told to do. When he had doctored people a while, but not long, a rich and great lord had some money stolen. Then he was told about Doctor Knowall who lived in such and such a village, and must know what had become of the money. So the lord had the horses put in his carriage, drove out to the village, and asked Crab if he were Doctor Knowall?

Yes, he was, he said.

Then he was to go with him and bring back the stolen money.

“Oh, yes, but Grethe, my wife, must go too.”

The lord was willing, and let both of them have a seat in the carriage. They all drove away together. When they came to the nobleman’s castle, the table was spread, and Crab was told to sit down and eat.

“Yes, but my wife, Grethe, too,” said he, and he seated himself with her at the table.

And when the first servant came with a dish of delicate fare, the peasant nudged his wife, and said, “Grethe, that was the first,” meaning that was the servant who brought the first dish.

The servant, however, thought he intended by that to say, “That is the first thief,” and as he actually was so, he was terrified, and said to his comrade outside, “The doctor knows all! we shall fare badly; he said I was the first.”

The second did not want to go in at all, but was obliged to. So when he went in, the peasant nudged his wife, and said, “Grethe, that is the second.” This servant was so frightened, that he got out.

With the third, it did not fare any better, for the peasant said again, “Grethe, that is the third.”

The fourth had to carry in a covered dish. In it were crabs.

THE FIRST SERVANT CAME WITH A DISH OF DELICATE FARE

The lord told the doctor that he must show his skill by guessing what was under the cover. The doctor looked at the dish, had no idea what was in it, and cried out, “Alas! poor Crab!”

When the lord heard that, he cried, “There! he knows who has the money!”

At this, the servants were terribly anxious. They winked at the doctor to come out to them. When he went out, they all four confessed that they had stolen the money, and that they were willing to restore it. They led him to the spot where it was hidden.

Thus the lord got back his wealth, and Doctor Knowall received a large reward and became a famous man.

* * * 

I'm certainly not saying people should set up shop as a doctor, but just remember your fortune begins with "an A B C book" and there is truly so much value to be found at "the library and all the resources and events that are held there throughout the year."

A Different Mustard Seed Parable

Last week I expressed frustration with finding a story in the wake of the devastating fires in Southern California. I prowled and prowled and finally found internet references to "an old Chinese tale." Went through the old (2016) Story-Lovers.com still housed on The Wayback Machine -- a wonderful resource set up by the late Jackie Baldwin incorporating suggestions of fellow members of the email list, Storytell .  The list continues, maintained as a resource by the National Storytelling Network, but there's still gold to be found at the old Story-Lovers site. (I've had people mention difficulty using it and will gladly help anyone wanting to try it.) Found the story's name is "The Mustard Seed" and was listed as Chinese, so I checked all Chinese books in my large folktale collection, then on to Project Gutenberg, and also the books at the Internet Archive without luck. This time I went back to those internet searches with a bit more information as I learned it was a Buddhist parable. The only problem was the text tended to be antiquated and included parts unrelated to the core of the Mustard Seed story as well as primarily focused on death. Yes, death is a part of the news from the fires which have once again moved into new areas, but it's also the death of so much more ... the other parts of life before the fire that the survivors are experiencing.

Most of us know a different parable about a Mustard Seed as told by Jesus. It's important. It's not my intent to say anything against it, but the people were remembering "an old Chinese tale" about a Mustard Seed telling a different story. They gave summaries, but I wanted more! Then I found a blog article, "A Different Mustard Seed Parable"on http://lazywmarie.com/. She gives the perfect summary, quoting the brief version given by the Dalai Lama in his The Book of Joy.  Like Marie, I like the way it "is a new way to think of grief and how it connects us to each other." We both agree it is about much more than death, even though it certainly is important.

The more I looked at the Lazy Marie blog, the more I felt at home with her and her animals and Oklahoma "hobby farm." To reach her for permission, I discovered her Facebook page and feel so at home that I'm now a follower of her "The (Not Always) Lazy W Blog." 

It's not the frequent "Keeping the Public in Public Domain" type of story usually given here. Instead it takes us to something that should be considered part of the world's wisdom found in religious literature. Here is Marie's article in its entirety.

a different mustard seed parable

September 9, 2018

Friends, here is a Mustard Seed parable for you to soak in. But probably not the one you already know. One of the hundreds of delicious little treasures I want to share with you from The Book of Joy is a new way to think of grief and how it connects us to each other.

This story is a Buddhist fable shared by the Dalai Lama. I’m just going to quote the short paragraph directly from the book:

“A woman lost her child and was inconsolable in her grief, carrying her dead child throughout the land, begging for someone to help heal her child. When she came to the Buddha, she begged him to help her. He told him he could help her if she would collect mustard seeds for the medicine. She eagerly agreed, but then the Buddha explained that the mustard seeds needed to come from a home that had not been touched by death. When the woman visited each house in search of the mustard seeds that might heal her son, she discovered there was no house that had not suffered the loss of a parent, or a spouse, or a child. Seeing that her suffering was not unique, she was able to bury her child in the forest and release her grief.”

It doesn’t have to be death, though that is a loss that will eventually unite all of us and possibly the one we all fear the most. I can easily think of several bright, terrifying moments of grief in my own life that have actually softened the more I looked around and saw that other people had lived through the same, or worse. Usually much worse. I bet you would agree.

Seeing that her suffering was not unique, she was able to release her grief.

There’s a lot of comfort available in a loving community. And if we can open up enough, there’s a lot of healing and learning that can happen too. How do people survive trauma? How do they make sense of tragedy? How do they cope, and how do they thrive despite their circumstances and mistakes?

In friendships where I feel comfortable sharing the darkest chapters of our family’s story, and when I can be steady-nerved enough to listen to other people’s darkest chapters, God always shows up. He always showers this peaceful, soothing veil over all the chaos and fear. He answers by reminding me that we are not alone. We are neither the first nor the last to be terrified, and His Love accomplishes actual miracles. 

Things are hardly ever as bad as they feel when we think we are alone. When we think our suffering is unique.

Relax a little, into some trusted community. Dare to open up to other people’s suffering, if only to realize how not unique your own suffering is. Then let all of that emotion turn into compassion. And let that compassion turn to hope.

Check in again soon for more about community (Ubuntu, in the African tradition) and a couple of delicious mustard seed recipes. I wanted to include all of this together, but it’s just so much.

Happy Sunday friends. Thank you for checking in.

“A person is a person through other persons.”
~Archbishop Desmond Tutu
XOXOXO

 

Jacobs - Hereafterthis - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

The fires of Los Angeles rightfully have been THE news item in a week still loaded with major events. Locally Mitch Albom, who supports a Haitian orphanage, has compared this to what happened after the earthquake in Haiti. I certainly hope L.A. doesn't evolve into the lawlessness and further destruction of Haiti, but agree the problems will outlast the attention currently trying to help after this disaster. For my own part I want to give to organizations who won't give now and then move on. To look at a recent U.S. event, this can be seen in the battle for support after the devastation from Hurricane Helene with its own "1,000 Year Flood."

I searched in Public Domain stories trying to find an appropriate story. Other than the unhelpful tale of Pandora opening the box bringing misery, I was dissatisfied with what I found. I did find the Joseph Jacobs tale of "Hereafterthis" in More English Fairy Tales. Yes, it's a "fairy tale" with all the implied simplification. The people affected by the fires have far more serious problems, but it does show how things can progress until disaster can wipe out everything. (I heard one woman "fortunate" to find a rental property say its monthly rent equals the amount she still must pay on her ruined home's mortgage.) So, yes, this story has a "fairy tale ending", but comes with the hope better days still come to all devastated by a 21st Century disaster comparable to the devastation of the 1906 San Francisco Earthquake.

Hereafterthis

Once upon a time there was a farmer called Jan, and he lived all alone by himself in a little farmhouse.

By-and-by he thought that he would like to have a wife to keep it all vitty for him.

So he went a-courting a fine maid, and he said to her: "Will you marry me?"

"That I will, to be sure," said she.

So they went to church, and were wed. After the wedding was over, she got up on his horse behind him, and he brought her home. And they lived as happy as the day was long.

One day, Jan said to his wife, "Wife can you milk-y?"

"Oh, yes, Jan, I can milk-y. Mother used to milk-y, when I lived home."

So he went to market and bought her ten red cows. All went well till one day when she had driven them to the pond to drink, she thought they did not drink fast enough. So she drove them right into the pond to make them drink faster, and they were all drowned.

When Jan came home, she up and told him what she had done, and he said, "Oh, well, there, never mind, my dear, better luck next time."

So they went on for a bit, and then, one day, Jan said to his wife, "Wife can you serve pigs?"

"Oh, yes, Jan, I can serve pigs. Mother used to serve pigs when I lived home."

So Jan went to market and bought her some pigs. All went well till one day, when she had put their food into the trough she thought they did not eat fast enough, and she pushed their heads into the trough to make them eat faster, and they were all choked.

When Jan came home, she up and told him what she had done, and he said, "Oh, well, there, never mind, my dear, better luck next time."

So they went on for a bit, and then, one day, Jan said to his wife, "Wife can you bake-y?"

"Oh, yes, Jan, I can bake-y. Mother used to bake-y when I lived home."

So he bought everything for his wife so that she could bake bread. All went well for a bit, till one day, she thought she would bake white bread for a treat for Jan. So she carried her meal to the top of a high hill, and let the wind blow on it, for she thought to herself that the wind would blow out all the bran. But the wind blew away meal and bran and all—so there was an end of it.

When Jan came home, she up and told him what she had done, and he said, "Oh, well, there, never mind, my dear, better luck next time."

So they went on for a bit, and then, one day, Jan said to his wife, "Wife can you brew-y?"

"Oh, yes, Jan, I can brew-y. Mother used to brew-y when I lived home."

So he bought everything proper for his wife to brew ale with. All went well for a bit, till one day when she had brewed her ale and put it in the barrel, a big black dog came in and looked up in her face. She drove him out of the house, but he stayed outside the door and still looked up in her face. And she got so angry that she pulled out the plug of the barrel, threw it at the dog, and said, "What dost look at me for? I be Jan's wife." Then the dog ran down the road, and she ran after him to chase him right away. When she came back again, she found that the ale had all run out of the barrel, and so there was an end of it.

When Jan came home, she up and told him what she had done, and he said, "Oh well, there, never mind, my dear, better luck next time."

So they went on for a bit, and then, one day, she thought to herself, "'T is time to clean up my house." When she was taking down her big bed she found a bag of groats on the tester. So when Jan came home, she up and said to him, "Jan, what is that bag of groats on the tester for?"

"That is for Hereafterthis, my dear."

Now, there was a robber outside the window, and he heard what Jan said. Next day, he waited till Jan had gone to market, and then he came and knocked at the door. "What do you please to want?" said Mally.

"I am Hereafterthis," said the robber, "I have come for the bag of groats."

Now the robber was dressed like a fine gentleman, so she thought to herself it was very kind of so fine a man to come for the bag of groats, so she ran upstairs and fetched the bag of groats, and gave it to the robber and he went away with it.

When Jan came home, she said to him, "Jan, Hereafterthis has been for the bag of groats."

"What do you mean, wife?" said Jan.

So she up and told him, and he said, "Then I'm a ruined man, for that money was to pay our rent with. The only thing we can do is to roam the world over till we find the bag of groats." Then Jan took the house-door off its hinges, "That's all we shall have to lie on," he said. So Jan put the door on his back, and they both set out to look for Hereafterthis. Many a long day they went, and in the night Jan used to put the door on the branches of a tree, and they would sleep on it. One night they came to a big hill, and there was a high tree at the foot. So Jan put the door up in it, and they got up in the tree and went to sleep. By-and-by Jan's wife heard a noise, and she looked to see what it was. It was an opening of a door in the side of the hill. Out came two gentlemen with a long table, and behind them fine ladies and gentlemen, each carrying a bag, and one of them was Hereafterthis with the bag of groats. They sat round the table, and began to drink and talk and count up all the money in the bags. So then Jan's wife woke him up, and asked what they should do.

"Now's our time," said Jan, and he pushed the door off the branches, and it fell right in the very middle of the table, and frightened the robbers so that they all ran away. Then Jan and his wife got down from the tree, took as many money-bags as they could carry on the door, and went straight home. And Jan bought his wife more cows, and more pigs, and they lived happy ever after.

***

May the people having to start over find a way, once again, to find reasons to continue and even to find happiness.  

For the rest of us, let us not forget the need to continue helping. 

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

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."

 

Bailey - Snow Shovels for Two - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

As I write this week's blog, last week sent a major snow storm with misery to millions, including deaths and more than a quarter-million homes without power. Now Texas is in the path of a major snow storm that will also affect much of the south from Arkansas and Tennessee all the way to Virginia. 

Out west California is suffering from fires justly described as having Armageddon proportions. I'm not sure how or if I can suggest a story for the survivors. I will start looking, but for now this Michigander will talk about snow. It's a fact of life here in the mitten-shaped state.

Carolyn Sherwin Bailey produced books about storytelling and many children's books including a Newbery award winner. Her 1916 Stories for Sunday Telling is little known, but fits her view of the value of storytelling which Encyclopedia.com quoted her seeing as "a real force for mental and moral good," Bailey believed that to be effective, a children's story must be developmentally appropriate."

The book is aimed at young children for Sunday School, but it isn't limited to there. With much of the country blanketed in snow, it seems especially timely. It also tells in a way that fits its young  audience without being "preachy." After the story I'll offer possible follow-up discussion. There's also one pet peeve I would change in the story, the use of the word "lame." Too frequently it's used today in ways that do not reflect its original meaning of impaired walking. I would suggest saying something like Mrs. Maloney had difficulty walking.

Possible discussion might talk of the difference in how Peter and John used their snow shovels and why Peter went in cold and unhappy while John was warm and laughing. Might it launch a new story?

The winter is only just beginning. May you, too, be warm and happy.

***

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."