Bailey - How Drakestail Went to the King - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

I've a program coming up where the audience requested stories about Farm Animals for Harvest season. They want me to start with "Stone Soup" and I plan to end with the "Bremen Town Musicians." Beyond that I began to list all the farm animals that came to mind. The last of ten animals I remembered were ducks and geese. 

With more possibilities than I have time to tell, I will use another favorite way to select my stories. I will write each animal and a story for it on slips of paper. Then they go into an open-mouthed container. For Halloween it would be a cauldron. This time it will be an old cast iron cooking pot. The audience pulls out a strip to determine each story I will tell.

While planning this I mentioned I had not yet looked up a story for ducks and geese to my friend and storytelling colleague, Priscilla Howe. Right away she had a favorite, "Drakestail" and even has a YouTube video of her telling it. 

Hmmm. That sounded interesting, but of course I wanted to prowl a bit further. Along the way I found even more versions of the story such as this picture book version

Denise McGill had created an alphabet book of fairy tales with Drakestail for the letter "D."

Beyond that,of course, Wikipedia has a brief article on it, including noting its use of repetition. I love to use repetition as a method of audience participation. Beyond those resources I was sure such a traditional tale would be found in Public Domain. I was right and found a version by Andrew Lang in his Red Fairy Book and another in The Fairy Ring by Kate Douglas Wiggin and Nora Archibald Smith. Those are indeed favorite authors, but it was Carolyn Sherwin Bailey's version in Once Upon a Time Animal Stories I liked the best. Her background as a storyteller shows why it will tell the best.

I'm giving it here, but looking at all those versions guarantees I'm going to incorporate ideas from more than just Bailey.  

HOW DRAKESTAIL WENT TO THE KING.

---

Once upon a time there was a wee little duck, with a very long tail, so he was called Drakestail. Now, Drakestail had some money of his very, very own, and the king asked if he might take it. So Drakestail loaned all his money to the king.

But the king kept Drakestail’s money for a year and a day, and still he did not send it back. Drakestail said he would go to the king and bring back the money himself.

So off he started, one very fine morning, for the king’s house. The sun was shining on the ponds, and Drakestail waddled along in the middle of the road, feeling very fine. As he traveled, he met a fox, and the fox said, “Where do you go this fine morning, Friend Drakestail?”

“To the king,” said Drakestail, “for he owes me money.”

“I will travel along with you,” said the fox.

“Ah,” said Drakestail, “your four legs would soon tire. Come along with me this way,” and he opened his wee little bill very wide, and down his wee little throat went the fox.

Then Drakestail traveled on a little farther. As he went he came to a ladder lying beside the road.

“Where do you go this fine morning, Friend Drakestail?” asked the ladder.

“To the king,” said Drakestail, “for he owes me money.”

“I will travel along with you,” said the ladder.

“Your wooden legs would soon tire,” said Drakestail. “Come along with me this way,” and he opened his little bill very wide, and down his wee little throat went the ladder.

Then Drakestail traveled on a bit farther until he came to his friend, the river, lying and glistening in the sunshine.

“Where do you go this fine morning, Friend Drakestail?” asked the river.

“To the king, for he owes me money,” said Drakestail.

“I will travel with you,” said the river.

“You would soon tire if you ran so far, my friend,” said Drakestail. “Come along with me this way.” He opened his wee bill very wide, and down his wee little throat went the little river.

Then Drakestail traveled and traveled until he came to the king’s house. Now Drakestail thought that the king would meet him at the gate, so he called out very loudly:

“Honk! Honk! Drakestail waits at the gate.”

But the king did not come out to meet him. Who should appear at the gate but the king’s cook, and the cook took Drakestail by his two little legs and flung him into the poultry yard. The other fowls, who were ill-bred birds, ran up to Drakestail and bit him, and jeered at his large tail. It would have gone very badly with Drakestail, but he called to his friend, the fox:

“Reynard, Reynard, come out to the earth,

Or Drakestail’s life is of little worth.”

So the fox came out, and he ate up all the ill-bred fowls in the king’s poultry yard. But still Drakestail was badly off. He heard the king’s cook putting the broth pot over the fire.

“Ladder, ladder, come out to the wall,

Drakestail does not wish to be broth at all,”

he cried. So the ladder came out and leaned against the wall, and Drakestail climbed over in safety. But the king’s cook saw Drakestail and set out after him. He caught poor Drakestail and clapped him into the broth pot, and hung him over the fire.

“River, my sweetheart, put out this hot fire,

The flames that would cook me rise higher and higher,”

cried Drakestail. So the river put out the fire with a great noise and sputtering, which the king heard. And the king came running to the kitchen.

“Good morning to you, King,” said Drakestail, hopping out of the broth pot, and making a very low bow, “are you through with my money, which you have kept for a year and a day?”

“That I am, Drakestail,” said the king. “You shall have it at once.”

So the king gave Drakestail the money that he owed him, and Drakestail waddled home again to tell of all his travels.

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

As I said I liked the repetition and definitely plan to have Drakestail  travel along with a waddle, waddle, waddle throughout the story. I'm not sure I'll use the comments in verse, but certainly plan to have the fox, the ladder and the river each have personalities. Now on to making strips with stories for each of those other animals.

 

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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."

 

 

Telling Literary Stories

 

         Illustration by Ernest Howard Shepard from Winnie-the-Pooh (1926), by A A Milne

It's offiffiffic'al, the story and illustrations from A. A. Milne's classic Winnie-the-Pooh is now in the Public Domain.  This means the many adventures in the Hundred Acre Wood that A. A. Milne wrote are now available for reprinting or storytelling.

What is NOT Public Domain are the various ways Walt Disney Productions has used the stories and created their own illustrations. 

For a thorough discussion of this I recommend the Wikipedia article, Winnie-the-Pooh . It also references Winnie the Pooh (Disney character). 

The popularity of Milne's character brings up a storytelling issue not limited to this lovable teddy bear. How do you handle literary stories?

The fact that Milne intentionally wrote the various adventures as short stories to be read to his son, the namesake for the character of Christopher Robin, also makes them easy to re-tell. That's precisely why today I want to explore the idea of telling -- or re-telling -- literary stories.

I believe storytelling by its very nature is re-telling. I realize ancient storytellers like the druids believed in training their students to tell their stories word-for-word. I also have known other storytellers with a theatre background who tell stories word-for-word. I, too, come from a theatre background, but feel rather like Pooh who is called a "bear of very little brain" as nowadays I tend to act more improvisationally. Frankly I just don't have the greatest memory and also find when storytelling it keeps the story "in the moment" as opposed to something that feels dead on a page.

If I chose to re-tell the Pooh stories I would certainly study the originals carefully. In the actual telling I would create a visual representation by bringing along a battered teddy bear. This would be rather like the way the New York Public Library did a display of the original Winnie-the-Pooh toys. I suspect they also read from the original book. I try strongly to correct anyone who says I am there to "read" a story if I have come to tell instead. After years as a children's librarian, that clarification sometimes is a bit "muddied" depending on if I am there as a librarian or as a storyteller.

So the question I want to bring to my fellow storytellers is: How do you handle literary stories? Do you attempt  word-for-word or do you re-tell those stories maintaining some of the original while summarizing the story and using your own words as needed?

I look forward to hearing from my fellow storytellers and will post replies here. 

 

Babbitt - The King's White Elephant - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

World Elephant Day is August 12 and there's always stories to tell about elephants. Additionally the World Wildlife Organization has so much to tell about them. They explain why these giants matter, the threats to them and, most importantly, what they are doing to reduce conflict between people and elephants. When I mentioned tigers two articles back before World Tiger Day on July 29, I should have mentioned the World Wildlife Fund works on these endangered animals to reduce not only threats to them, but reduce the conflict with people as that, too, threatens them. In fact it is often their biggest threat. Both these wonderful animals need our help.

 

Once before I told an elephant story for World Elephant Day and confess "The Elephant and the Dog" is my favorite elephant story. It is found in More Jataka Tales.  Its predecessor, Jataka Tales by Ellen C. Babbitt, includes a story about a white elephant. I tried Everywhere! to find a story illustrating the common term "white elephant" meaning a gift that is not wanted. That meaning is discussed often. The most thorough is at Everything-everywhere.com  but the idea of a king (usually of Siam) gifting an elephant knowing it would financially ruin the recipient seems to have no folklore connected with it. 

Surely telling the common use of the term "white elephant" should precede telling today's tale, and I would also follow it with "The Elephant and the Dog ."

One quick note about reprinting this story, it wasn't evident that each of the silhouetted drawings by Ellsworth Young were captioned from the text. The final one confused me at first, so I added parentheses.

THE KING'S WHITE ELEPHANT

Once upon a time a number of carpenters lived on a river bank near a large forest. Every day the carpenters went in boats to the forest to cut down the trees and make them into lumber.

One day while they were at work an Elephant came limping on three feet to them. He held up one foot and the carpenters saw that it was swollen and sore. Then the Elephant lay down and the men saw that there was a great splinter in the sore foot. They pulled it out and washed the sore carefully so that in a short time it would be well again.

Thankful for the cure, the Elephant thought: "These carpenters have done so much for me, I must be useful to them."

So after that the Elephant used to pull up trees for the carpenters. Sometimes when the trees were chopped down he would roll the logs down to the river. Other times he brought their tools for them. And the carpenters used to feed him well morning, noon and night.

(He held up one foot and the carpenters saw that it was swollen and sore.)

Now this Elephant had a son who was white all over—a beautiful, strong young one. Said the old Elephant to himself, "I will take my son to the place in the forest where I go to work each day so that he may learn to help the carpenters, for I am no longer young and strong."

(The Elephant used to pull up trees for the carpenters.)

So the old Elephant told his son how the carpenters had taken good care of him when he was badly hurt and took him to them. The white Elephant did as his father told him to do and helped the carpenters and they fed him well.

When the work was done at night the young Elephant went to play in the river. The carpenters' children played with him, in the water and on the bank. He liked to pick them up in his trunk and set them on the high branches of the trees and then let them climb down on his back.

(With a last look at his playmates the beautiful white Elephant went on with the king.)

One day the king came down the river and saw this beautiful white Elephant working for the carpenters. The king at once wanted the Elephant for his own and paid the carpenters a great price for him. Then with a last look at his playmates, the children, the beautiful white Elephant went on with the king.

The king was proud of his new Elephant and took the best care of him as long as he lived.

---

May your stories be as great a gift as the white elephant in this story. We may not be kings able to have such magnificent creatures, but we can support them with World Elephant Day.

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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."

 

Marshall - The Battle of Bannockburn - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

 

The first Saturday in August is always the St. Andrew's Society of Detroit's Annual Highland Games and this year is the 177th! 

Scots have a long memory! 

On this blog in 2025 I told the story of the Battle of Bannockburn and look forward to sharing it again at the Games. I will be telling at the Wee Bairns area. That name is slightly misleading for the Wee Bairns is actually aimed at sharing Scottish culture for all ages.

The version I used here in 2025 was difficult to read online. I suggest going to its source The history of England by Arnold-Foster where it's slightly larger than was able to be produced here. As I mentioned then, it's an English version of the battle, but "one of the easiest Public Domain summaries of the major facts." 

I also mentioned  Scotland's Story: A history of Scotland for Boys and Girls by H. E. (Henrietta Elizabeth) Marshall. At that time giving a picture from the chapter on "The Bruce killing de Bohun at the Battle of Bannockburn." That picture was from Marshall's chapter on the day before the battle. Here is her description of the actual battle. 

 

I think both the Arnold-Foster and Marshall versions are worth knowing as they point out different things, including looking at the results from both perspectives. Arnold -Foster looking at the "unfortunate" reign of Edward II and its end. Marshall points to the way the Scots treated the English, both the dead and their prisoners in what was "more kind to these prisoners than was usually the case in those wild days." At the same time she points to Bruce getting back "his wife, daughter, and sisters, and the other noble ladies who had been kept in English prisons for eight years." Both point out that from then on Scotland was never ruled by a foreign king.

Personally I wish Marshall had said more about the schiltrons the Scots used. That use of spears and sabotaging the terrain permitted the smaller Scottish force of 6,000 to defeat the roughly 30,000 of the invading English. 

A Wikipedia overview of the Battle of Bannockburn is not as engrossing as actual visiting the Bannockburn Visitor Centre where they do an outstanding job of putting you in the experience.

********** 

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."

 

Jacobs - The Tiger, The Brahmin and the Jackal - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

Next week on July 29 is World Tiger Day. This beautiful but dangerous creature has a long history with people. World Wildlife Fund has an interesting quiz worth taking to learn more about them. There also are many stories about them including today's tale said to have more than a hundred variants! If you start with what is probably the oldest, the Panchatantra, it would be about 28 or 29 THOUSAND! years old. 

Obviously it is a story worth telling. The question becomes where to start?

Joseph Jacobs is excellent at handling something with such a varied history. (He's the one noting more than a hundred variants when he discussed it in Europa's Fairy Book.) There's no room here to give a hundred versions for comparison, but I do want to mention Sara Cone Bryant's version in Stories to Tell Children because she can always be depended on to offer a tellable story. In it she explains, " Do you know what a Brahmin is? A Brahmin is a very good and gentle kind of man who lives in India, and who treats all the beasts as if they were his brothers. There is a great deal more to know about Brahmins, but that is enough for the story." Later in the story she uses the Banyan Tree for the tree in the story, saying "(A banyan tree is a kind of fruit tree.)" Jacobs uses a "pipal tree" which is probably more accurate given its religious importance to India, but in telling the story I find Bryant's use and explanation of the banyan tree easier to keep the flow of the story. Since the banyan is also considered a Hindu sacred plant, that is what I would use.

One further reason why I chose to post the Jacobs version is, once again in Indian Fairy Tales he has John D. Batten's illustrations. The two worked together on almost all of the Jacobs' folktale anthologies. Batten's work always adds to the enjoyment and understanding. Bryant lets stories stand on their own merits without illustrations. I do have one complaint with Batten's illustration, the jackal is not easy to picture. Neither Jacobs nor Bryant tell anything about jackals, keeping his words and actions the focus.

The Tiger, the Brahman, and the Jackal

nce upon a time, a tiger was caught in a trap. He tried in vain to get out through the bars, and rolled and bit with rage and grief when he failed.

By chance a poor Brahman came by. "Let me out of this cage, oh pious one!" cried the tiger.

"Nay, my friend," replied the Brahman mildly, "you would probably eat me if I did."

"Not at all!" swore the tiger with many oaths; "on the contrary, I should be for ever grateful, and serve you as a slave!"

Now when the tiger sobbed and sighed and wept and swore, the pious Brahman's heart softened, and at last he consented to open the door of the cage. Out popped the tiger, and, seizing the poor man, cried, "What a fool you[67] are! What is to prevent my eating you now, for after being cooped up so long I am just terribly hungry!"

In vain the Brahman pleaded for his life; the most he could gain was a promise to abide by the decision of the first three things he chose to question as to the justice of the tiger's action.

So the Brahman first asked a pipal tree what it thought of the matter, but the pipal tree replied coldly, "What have you to complain about? Don't I give shade and shelter to every one who passes by, and don't they in return tear down my branches to feed their cattle? Don't whimper—be a man!"

Then the Brahman, sad at heart, went further afield till he saw a buffalo turning a well-wheel; but he fared no better from it, for it answered, "You are a fool to expect gratitude! Look at me! Whilst I gave milk they fed me on cotton-seed and oil-cake, but now I am dry they yoke me here, and give me refuse as fodder!"

The Brahman, still more sad, asked the road to give him its opinion.

"My dear sir," said the road, "how foolish you are to expect anything else! Here am I, useful to everybody, yet all, rich and poor, great and small, trample on me as they go past, giving me nothing but the ashes of their pipes and the husks of their grain!"

On this the Brahman turned back sorrowfully, and on the way he met a jackal, who called out, "Why, what's the matter, Mr. Brahman? You look as miserable as a fish out of water!"

The Brahman told him all that had occurred. "How very confusing!" said the jackal, when the recital[68] was ended; "would you mind telling me over again, for everything has got so mixed up?"

The Brahman told it all over again, but the jackal shook his head in a distracted sort of way, and still could not understand.

"It's very odd," said he, sadly, "but it all seems to go in at one ear and out at the other! I will go to the place where it all happened, and then perhaps I shall be able to give a judgment."

So they returned to the cage, by which the tiger was waiting for the Brahman, and sharpening his teeth and claws.

"You've been away a long time!" growled the savage beast, "but now let us begin our dinner."

"Our dinner!" thought the wretched Brahman, as his knees knocked together with fright; "what a remarkably delicate way of putting it!"

"Give me five minutes, my lord!" he pleaded, "in order that I may explain matters to the jackal here, who is somewhat slow in his wits."

The tiger consented, and the Brahman began the whole story over again, not missing a single detail, and spinning as long a yarn as possible.

"Oh, my poor brain! oh, my poor brain!" cried the jackal, wringing its paws. "Let me see! how did it all begin? You were in the cage, and the tiger came walking by——"

"Pooh!" interrupted the tiger, "what a fool you are! I was in the cage."

"Of course!" cried the jackal, pretending to tremble with fright; "yes! I was in the cage—no I wasn't—dear![69] dear! where are my wits? Let me see—the tiger was in the Brahman, and the cage came walking by——no, that's not it, either! Well, don't mind me, but begin your dinner, for I shall never understand!"

"Yes, you shall!" returned the tiger, in a rage at the jackal's stupidity; "I'll make you understand! Look here—I am the tiger——"

"Yes, my lord!"

"And that is the Brahman——"

"Yes, my lord!"

"And that is the cage——"

"Yes, my lord!"

"And I was in the cage—do you understand?"

"Yes—no—— Please, my lord——"

"Well?" cried the tiger impatiently.

"Please, my lord!—how did you get in?"

"How!—why in the usual way, of course!"

"Oh, dear me!—my head is beginning to whirl again! Please don't be angry, my lord, but what is the usual way?"

At this the tiger lost patience, and, jumping into the cage, cried, "This way! Now do you understand how it was?"

"Perfectly!" grinned the jackal, as he dexterously shut the door, "and if you will permit me to say so, I think matters will remain as they were!"

***

The endangered status of Tigers is part of the quiz mentioned at the start. Here are several World Wildlife Fund articles about them. I particularly want to recommend their Teaching Tools About Wildlife and Forests.

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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."

Reineck - The Cloud - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

https://unsplash.com/photos/rainbow-on-sky-t02XukS9dUU?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditShareLink

Looking up into the sky for more summer stories turned up a brief tale by Robert Reineck translated from the German by Eleanor Skinner.

THE CLOUD
 
Robert Reineck

One hot summer morning a little cloud rose out of the sea, and floated playfully across the blue sky. The dreary brown earth, parched with a long drouth, lay far below. The little cloud looked down and saw the poor people toiling away with heavy hearts, while she, carefree and happy, floated along on the fresh morning breeze.

She said to herself, "Oh, how much I wish I could help the poor people down there. If I could but lighten their work, or refresh them with food and drink!"

As the day passed and the cloud grew larger, the wish to help the suffering people filled her heart.

On earth it grew hotter and hotter, and the people were fainting with heat, but they could not stop their work, for they were very poor. Sometimes they looked pleadingly up into the sky. It seemed as if they were saying to the cloud: "Oh, if you could but help us!"

"I will help you! I will, indeed!" said the cloud, and she began immediately to sink softly toward the earth.

As she floated down she suddenly remembered something which she had heard when she was a tiny child, rocked in the lap of Mother Ocean. Someone had told her that clouds die if they float too near the earth.

For a moment she wavered in her thought and drifted to and fro. But at last she stood still and spoke bravely and cheerfully, "Men of the earth, I will help you, come what may."

Suddenly she grew large, and strong and powerful. Never before had she dreamed herself capable of such strength. Like an angel of blessing she stood above the earth, lifted her head, and spread her wings far over the broad fields.

So great and mighty she appeared that men and beasts marvelled at the sight; the trees, grass, and flowers bowed their heads before her, but in their hearts they knew she would help them.

"Yes, I will help you," cried the cloud once more. "Take me to yourselves! I die for you!"

A mighty purpose filled the cloud's heart, and a holy light shone from her face. She sank nearer to the earth. The next moment a blessed shower of rain refreshed the hills and valleys.

The rain was the cloud's deed; the rain was the cloud's death; but through her death she was glorified.

After the shower was over, a lovely rainbow, made of the purest rays of heavenly light, arched across the sky. It was the last greeting of a love so great that it could serve.

Soon the rainbow, too, disappeared, but the memory of the blessing which the shower had brought to the earth was kept in the hearts of men for many years to come.

***

Like the rainbow, any information about the author disappeared. May the beauty of the rainbow and possibly a cooling shower come your way when telling this story.

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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 - How the Sun Was Caught and Freed - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

We are squarely in mid-summer, complete with strong sun UV rays. There was a time when children played all a summer day without a hint of sunscreen, maybe even using something like Coppertone to get a tan. I remember every summer started out with one sunburn and then all others became a tan. 

Eleanor Skinner in The Turquoise Story Book retold a story of attempted control of the sun. She only calls it an "Indian legend", but the housing in it is a "wigwam." Since that is an Algonquian word used by the Anishinaabe, it is probably a story from either Canada's First Nations or here in the north central part of the U.S. 

https://www.health.harvard.edu/healthy-aging-and-longevity/the-science-of-sunscreen

I can easily picture this story here in Michigan. It also fits summer so well. Right about now people might indeed wish they could control the sun. Here is a legend about trying that.

HOW THE SUN WAS CAUGHT AND
FREED

Once upon a time there lived a little Indian boy who was very proud of his beautiful coat. His sister had made it for him out of the skins of ten snow-birds. Carefully she had dried these skins, stretched them, and pieced them into a soft, warm garment. The lad was so fond of his coat that he wore it whenever he left the wigwam, no matter how warm the sun shone.

One morning the Indian lad took a long walk and becoming very tired he threw himself down on a grassy hillside to rest, and fell sound asleep.

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the Sun when he saw the boy wrapped in a bird-skin coat in summer time. "I must give this lad a hint that the snow and ice are gone and it is time to lay aside winter coverings."

With all his warm might the Sun shone on the sleeping lad. Gradually the feathers of his coat curled up and became singed and brown, and the garment shrank to a very small size.

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the Sun.

When the Indian lad awoke he wondered what had happened to him for he felt as if he were caught in a trap. He sprang to his feet and discovered that his beautiful coat had shrunk until it was entirely too small for him.

"It is ruined," he cried aloud. "Ruined by that monster Sun. He shall not play such tricks on me and escape without punishment." Then, shaking his fist in the Sun's face, he shouted, "I'll make you pay for ruining my beautiful bird-skin coat."

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the Sun.

The Indian lad ran back to the wigwam as fast as he could, carrying the garment in his hands.

"See what has happened!" he cried to his sister. "That vicious Sun shrank my beautiful coat while I was asleep on the hillside. I can never wear it again."

"Perhaps I can stretch it for you," said his sister.

"No, no! See, the feathers are singed and brown. It is ruined!"

He was so sorely vexed that he could neither eat nor sleep. For twenty days he fasted in the wigwam and wondered how he could call the mischievous Sun to account for spoiling the bird-skin coat.

One morning he sprang up and said to his sister, "I have thought out a way to punish the Sun. In his high path across the sky he thinks he is safe from a little lad like me, but I'll show him what I can do if you will help me."

"Tell me your plan," said the sister, wondering how any mortal could punish the mighty Sun.

"I'll set a snare for him and catch him!" cried her brother excitedly. "I want the strongest cord you can find."

"I've plenty of dried moose-hide; will that be strong enough?" she asked.

"No, no! That would never hold the Sun," said the boy.

His sister thought a while and then said, "I have dried sinew of deer."

But still her brother shook his head. "The Sun is a mighty quarry. I must have something stronger than the sinew of the deer."

"Then I must search in the deep woods," said his sister.

She left the wigwam and for nine days she searched through the forest. At last she returned with a twisted cord which she had made from the strongest wood fiber. As soon as her brother saw it he knew what to do. He drew the twisted fiber through his lips and immediately it became so fine and strong that he believed nothing could break it. Round and round his body the lad wound this cord; at one end of it he fashioned a noose.

Confident that he was now prepared to snare the Sun, the lad left the wigwam long before daybreak. He walked to the spot where the Sun first peeps over the rim of the earth, and there he securely fixed the noose. Then as he walked back to the lodge he unwound from his body the cord, and held fast to the end of it.

The Sun was caught in this snare! His shining head was held tight in the noose and he could not travel across his Sky-Path. A strange dull light filled the air.

In his wigwam the Indian lad was delighted. He danced about joyously and said, "The mighty Sun will learn that he cannot play a trick on me and escape without punishment."

But while the Indian lad laughed and sang because he had caught the Sun in his noose the Animals were in deep trouble for there was no daylight in the world. They walked cautiously about, filled with fear and wonder.

"What has happened to the Sun? Has he strayed from his Sky-Path?" they whispered to each other.

After a while they discovered that the Sun was caught in a great noose and they called a Council in order to decide what to do.

"Of course we must free the Sun," said all the Animals, but when one of them asked how this could be done there was silence in the Council for a long time, because all the Animals knew about the Sun's great heat and feared to go near enough to break the cord.

At last the mole said, "I'll free the Sun. I'm not afraid. My teeth are very sharp and I'm sure they can gnaw through the cord of the noose."

Accordingly she crept near to the edge of the earth where the Sun was held fast. The heat was intense but the mole was determined not to give up her undertaking. She gnawed and gnawed, until the cord was cut in two. Then up into the sky sprang the Sun with a mighty bound. Before the Mole could run away, however, the Sun's white light shone full in her eyes, and from that day she has not been able to see very well. Her eyes are extremely small and are almost hidden by fur. That is why she lives in dark places and seldom comes out into the sunlight. But the Animals are all grateful to her and they often say, "It was the brave Mole who cut the Indian boy's noose which held the Sun."

***

Surely people have a very different view of the mole from most animals. The picture of a mole comes from Havahart.com mole-facts. Havahart goes back to 1940 in offering humane traps of a wide variety of animals. The mole facts page opens by talking about how "Their digging habits notoriously destroy lawns, gardens and golf courses, frustrating home and business owners."

It is only when you get to their diet does it begin to acknowledge a bit of the value of moles. "Moles are insectivores, eating 70-100% of their weight in worms, grubs and insects each day." Talking about their tunneling, an explanation is given, "In order to hunt down their ground-dwelling prey, moles constantly excavate, leaving behind a series of tunnels. This digging requires a tremendous amount of energy, which may explain the mole's voracious appetite."

Wolves and dogs certainly don't agree with the story's conclusion that  "the Animals are all grateful to her" and love to dig them up and eat them. 

 

Guess we must accept both the sun and the mole!

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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."