Fables by Robert Louis Stevenson

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:01):
Introduction of Fables. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox
recordings are in the public domain. For more information or
to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Read by Ben Tucker.
Fables by Robert Lewis Stevenson. Introductory note. The fable as

(00:22):
a form of literary art had at all times a
great attraction from mister Stevenson, and in an early review
of Lord Lytton's Fables and Song, he attempted to define
some of its proper aims and methods. To this class
of work, according to his conception of the matter, belonged
to essentially several of his own semi supernatural stories, such

(00:44):
as Will of the mill Markheim and even Jacqueline Hyde,
in the composition of which there was combined with the
dream element, in at least an equal measure, the element
of moral allegory or apologue. He was accustomed also to
try his hand occasionally on the composition of fables more
strictly so called, and cast in the conventional, brief and

(01:06):
familiar form. By the winter of eighteen eighty seven eighty eight,
he had enough of these by him, together with a
few others, running to greater length, and conceived in a
more mystic and legendary vein to enable him, as he thought,
to see his way towards making a book of them.
Such a book he promised to Monsieur Longman on the

(01:27):
occasion of a visit paid him in New York by
a member of the firm in the spring of eighteen
eighty eight. Then came his voyage to the Pacific and
residence at Samoa. Among the multitude of new interests and
images which filled his mind during the last six years
of his life, he seems to have given little thought
to the proposed book of fables. One or two, however,

(01:49):
as will be seen, were added to the collection during
this period. That collection, as it stood at the time
of his death was certainly not what its author had
meant it to be. Whether it would have seen the
light had he lived as doubtful. But after his death
it seemed to his representatives of sufficient interest to be
handed to Monsieur Lowman in part fulfillment of his old

(02:10):
pledge to them for publication in their magazine, And there
it first appeared end of introduction Section one of Fables
by Robert Louis Stevenson. This LibriVox recording is in the

(02:31):
public domain. Read by Ben Tucker. The persons of the tale.
After the thirty second chapter of Treasure Island, two of
the puppets strolled out to have a pipe before business
should begin again, and met in an open place not
far from the story. Good morning, combam, said the first,

(02:52):
with a man o war salute and a beaming countenance. Ah,
Silver grunted the other. You're in a bad way, Silver, now,
cap'n Smollett remonstrated. Silver. Duty is duty, as I knows,
and none better. But we're off duty now, and I
can't see no call to keep up the morality business.

(03:12):
You're a damn rug my man, said the captain. Come, come,
come'n be just returned the other. There's no call to
be angry with me in earnest. I'm only a character
in a sea story. I don't really exist. Well, I
don't really exist either, says the cap'n, which seems to
meet that. I wouldn't set no limits to what a

(03:34):
virtuous cart or might consider. Argument, responded Silver. But I'm
the villain of this tale, I am, and speaking as
one sea farn man to another, what I want to
know is what's the odds where you never taught her
a catechism, said the captain. Don't you know there's such
a thing as an author? Such a thing as an author,

(03:55):
returned John derisively, And who better than me? And puint
is if the author made you? He made long John,
and he made hands and pew and George Merry, not
that George's up too much for his little more'n a name.
And he made flint what there is of him, And
he made this here mutiny, you keep such a work about?
And he had Tom Redruth shot. And well, if there's

(04:17):
an author, give me pew. Don't you believe in a
future state? Said Smollett. Do you think there's nothing but
the present story paper? I don't rightly know for that,
said Silver, And I don't see what it's got to
do with it anyway. What I know is this thurs
such a thing as an author. I'm his favorite character.
He does me fathoms better'n he does you fathoms he does,

(04:39):
and he likes doing me. He keeps me on deck
most all the time, krutchin all and he leaves you
measling in the hole where nobody can't see you nor
wants to. And you may lay to that. If there
is an author, by thunder, he's on my side, you
may lay to it. I see he's given you a
long rope, said the captain. But I can't change a

(05:00):
man's convictions. I know the author respects me. I feel
it in my bones when you and I had that
talk at the blockhouse door. Who do you think he was?
For him a man? And don't he respect me? Cried Silver? Ah,
you should have heard me putting down my mutiny George
Merry and Morgan and that lot no longer in a
golden last chapter. You would have heard something. Then you

(05:23):
would have seen what the author thinks of me. But
come now, do you consider yourself a virtuous character? Clean
through God forbid? Said Captain Smollett solemnly. I am a
man that tries to do his duty and makes a
mess if it as often as not. I'm not a
very popular man at home, Silver, I'm afraid, And the

(05:43):
captain sighed. Ah, says Silver, how about this sequel of yours?
Are you to be, Cotton Smollett, just the same as ever?
And not very popular at home? Says you? And if so,
why it's treasure Island over again by thunder, and I'll
be long John, you'll be pew and we'll have another
mutiny as like as not? Or are you to be

(06:04):
somebody else? And if so, why what the better are you?
And what the worse am I? Why? Look here, my man,
returned the captain. I can't understand how this story comes
about it all, can I? I can't see how you
and I, who don't exist, should get to speaking here
and smoke our pipes for all the world like reality?
Very well? Then, who am I to pipe up with

(06:25):
my opinions? I know the author's on the side of good,
he tells me. So it runs out of his pen
as he writes, Well, that's all I need to know.
I'll take my chance upon the rest. It's a fact
he seems to be against George, Mary Silver admitted musingly.
But George is little more'n a name at best of it,
he added, brightening, And to get into soundings for once,

(06:46):
what is this good? I made a mutiny, and I've
been a gentleman of fortune. Well, but by all stories
you ain't no such saint. I'm a man that keeps
company very easy, even by your own account you ain't.
And to my certain knowledge. You're a devil old days?
Which is which which is good? And which bad? Ah?
You tell me that here we are in stays, and

(07:06):
you may lay to it where none of us perfect,
replied the captain. That's a fact or religion, my man.
All I can say is I try to do my duty,
and if you try to do yours. I can't compliment
you on your success. And so you as the judge
was you, said Silver derisively, I would be both jodge
and hangman for you, my man, and never turn a hair,

(07:28):
returned the captain. But I get beyond that. It mayn't
be sound theology, but it's common sense that what is
good is useful to or there and thereabout. For I
don't set up to be a thinker. Now where would
a story go to if there were no virtuous characters?
If you'll go to that, replied Silver? Where would a
story begin if there wasn't no villains? Well that's pretty

(07:52):
much my thought, said Captain Smollett. The author has to
get a story, that's what he wants. And to get
a story, and to have a man like the doctor say,
give a proper chance, he has to put in men
like you and hands. But he's on the right side,
and you mind your rye. You're not through this story yet.
There's trouble coming for you. What'll ye bet, asked John

(08:13):
much I care if there ain't returned the captain. I'm
glad enough to be Alexander Smollett, bad as he is,
and I think my stars upon my knees that I'm
not silver. But there's an ink bottle opening too quarters.
And indeed the author was just then beginning to write
the words Chapter thirty three, end of section one The

(08:36):
Persons of the Tale, Section two of Fables by Robert
Louis Stevenson. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain,
read by Ben Tucker. The sinking ship, Sir, said the
first lieutenant, bursting into the captain's cabin. The ship is

(08:59):
going down very well, mister Spoker, said the captain. But
that is no reason for going about half shaved. Exercise
your mind a moment, mister Spoker, and you will see
that to the philosophic eye, there is nothing new in
our position. The ship, if she is to go down
at all, may be said to have been going down
since she was launched. She is settling fast, said the

(09:23):
first lieutenant, as he returned from shaving fast. Mister Spoker
asked the captain, the expression is a strange one for time,
if you will think of it is only relative, sir,
said the Lieutenant. I think it is scarcely worth while
to embark in such a discussion when we shall all

(09:44):
be in Davy Jones's locker in ten minutes by parity
of reasoning, returned the captain gently, It would never be
worth while to begin any inquiry of importance. The odds
are always overwhelming that we must die before we shall
have brought it to an end. You have not considered,
mister Spoker, the situation of man, said the captain, smiling

(10:10):
and shaking his head. I am much more engaged in
considering the position of the ship, said mister Spoker. Spoken
like a good officer, replied the Captain, laying his hand
on the lieutenant's shoulder. On deck, they found the men
had broken into the spirit room and were fast getting drunk.
My men, said the captain. There is no sense in this.

(10:33):
The ship is going down, you will tell me in
ten minutes. Well, and what then, to the philosophic eye,
there is nothing new in our position, all our lives long.
We may have been about to break a blood vessel,
or to be struck by lightning, not merely in ten minutes,
but in ten seconds. And that has not prevented us
from eating dinner, no, nor from putting money in the

(10:57):
savings bank. I assure you, with my hand on my heart,
I failed to comprehend your attitude. The men were already
too far gone to pay much heed. This is a
very painful sight, mister Spoker, said the captain. And yet,
to the philosophic eye or whatever it is, replied the

(11:20):
first lieutenant, they may be said to have been getting
drunk since they came aboard. I do not know if
you always follow my thought, mister Spoker, returned the captain gently,
But let us proceed. In the powder magazine, they found
an old salt smoking his pipe. Good God, cried the captain.

(11:43):
What are you about, well, sir, said the old salt apologetically.
They told me as she were going down. And suppose
she were, said the captain. To the philosophic eye, there
would be nothing new in our position. Life, my old shipmate, life,
at any moment and in any view, is as dangerous

(12:05):
as a sinking ship. And yet it is man's handsome
fashion to carry umbrellas, to wear india rubber overshoes, to
begin vast works, and to conduct himself in every way
as if he might hope to be eternal. And for
my own poor part, I should despise the man who,
even on board a sinking ship, should omit to take

(12:28):
a pill or to wind up his watch, That my
friend would not be the human attitude. I beg pardon, sir,
said mister Spoker. But what is precisely the difference between
shaving in a sinking ship and smoking in a powder magazine,
or doing anything at all in any conceivable circumstances? Cried

(12:50):
the captain, perfectly conclusive, Give me a cigar. Two minutes afterwards,
the ship blew up with a glorious detonation. End of
section two The Sinking Ship, Section three of Fables by

(13:12):
Robert Lewis Stevenson. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain.
Read by Ben Tucker the two matches. One day there
was a traveler in the woods in California in the
dry season, when the trades were blowing strong. He had
ridden a long way, and he was tired and hungry

(13:32):
and dismounted from his horse to smoke a pipe. But
when he felt in his pocket he found but two matches.
He struck the first, and it would not light. Here
is a pretty state of things, said the traveler, dying
for a smoke. Only one match left, and that's certain
to miss fire. Was there ever a creature so unfortunate?

(13:55):
And yet, thought the traveler, Suppose I light this match
and smoke my pipe and shake out the dattle here
in the grass. The grass might catch on fire, for
it is dry like tinder. And while I snatch out
the flames in front, they might evade and run behind
me and seize upon yon bush of poison oak before

(14:16):
I could reach it, that would have blazed up over
the bush. I see a pine tree hung with moss,
that too would fly in fire upon the instant to
its topmost bough. And the flame of that long torch,
How would the trade wind take and brandish that through
the inflammable forest. I hear this dull roar in a
moment with the joint voice of wind and fire. I

(14:39):
see myself gallop for my soul, and the flying conflagration,
chase and doubt flank me through the hills. I see
this pleasant forest burn for days, and the cattle roasted,
and the springs dried up, and the farmer ruined, and
his children cast upon the world. What a world hangs

(15:00):
upon this moment? With that he struck the match, and
it missed fire. Thank God, said the traveler, and put
his pipe in his pocket. End of section three, The
Two Matches. Section four of Fables by Robert Louis Stevenson,

(15:27):
The Slibber Fox Recordings in the public Domain, read by
Ben Tucker. The sick Man and the Fireman. There was
once a sick man in a burning house, to whom
there entered a fireman. Do not save me, said the
sick man, Save those who are strong. Will you kindly

(15:50):
tell me why? Inquired the fireman, For he was a
civil fellow. Nothing could possibly be fairer, said the sick man.
The strong should be preferred in all cases, because they
are of more service in the world. The fireman pondered, awhile,
for he was a man of some philosophy, granted, said

(16:12):
he at last, as a part of the roof fell in.
But for the sake of conversation, what would you lay
down as the proper service of the strong? Nothing can
possibly be easier, returned the sick man. The proper service
of the strong is to help the weak. Again, the
fireman reflected, for there was nothing hasty about this excellent creature.

(16:37):
I could forgive you for being sick, he said at last,
as a portion of a wall fell out. But I
cannot bear your being such a fool. And with that
he heaved up his fireman's axe, for he was imminently just,
and clove the sick man to the bed. In section
four The sick Man and the Fireman, Section five of

(17:06):
Fables by Robert Lewis Stevenson. This LibriVox recordings in the
public domain, read by Ben Tucker. The Devil and the Innkeeper.
Once upon a time the devil stayed at an inn
where no one knew him, for they were people whose
education had been neglected. He was bent on mischief, and

(17:29):
for a time kept everybody by the ears. But at
last the innkeeper set a watch upon the devil and
took him in the fact, the innkeeper got a rope's end.
Now I am going to thrash you, said the innkeeper.
You have no right to be angry with me, said
the devil. I am only the devil and it is

(17:51):
my nature to do wrong? Is that so? Asked the innkeeper.
Fact I assure you, said the devil. You really cannot
help doing ill, asked the innkeeper. Not in the smallest
said the devil. It would be useless cruelty to thrash
a thing like me. It would, indeed, said the innkeeper,

(18:15):
And he made a noose and hanged the devil. There,
said the innkeeper. End of section five The Devil and
the Innkeeper, Section six of Fables by Robert Louis Stevenson.
This LibriVox Recordings in the public Domain, read by Ben Tucker.

(18:39):
The Penitent. A man met a lad weeping. What do
you weep for, he asked, I am weeping for my sins,
said the lad. You must have little to do, said
the man. The next day they met again, once more,
the lad was weeping. Why do you weep now, asked

(19:01):
the man. I am weeping because I have nothing to eat,
said the lad. I thought it would come to that,
said the man. End of section six The Penitent Section

(19:22):
seven of Fables by Robert Louis Stevenson. The LibriVox Recordings
in the public Domain, read by Ben Tucker. The yellow
paint in a certain city there lived a physician who
sold yellow paint. This was of so singular a virtue
that whoso was bedaubed with it from head to heel

(19:43):
was set free from the dangers of life, and the
bondage of sin, and the fear of death forever. So
the physician said in his prospectus, And so said all
the citizens in the city. And there was nothing more
urgent in men's hearts than to be proper painted themselves,
and nothing they took more delight in than to see

(20:03):
others painted. There was in the same city a young
man of a very good family, but of a somewhat
reckless life, who had reached the age of manhood, and
would have nothing to say to the paint. Tomorrow is
soon enough, said he. And when the morrow came he
would still put it off, so he might have continued

(20:24):
to do until death. Only he had a friend of
about his own age and much of his own manners.
And this youth, taking a walk in the public street,
with not one fleck of paint upon his body, was
suddenly run down by a water cart and cut off
in the heyday of his nakedness. This shook the other
to the soul so that I never beheld a man

(20:46):
more earnest to be painted, And on the very same evening,
in the presence of all his family, to appropriate music,
and himself weeping aloud, he received three complete coats and
a touch of varnish on the top. The physician was
himself affected even to tears, protested he had never done
a job so thorough. Some two months afterwards, the young

(21:08):
man was carried on a stretcher to the physician's house.
What is the meaning of this, he cried, as soon
as the door was opened. I was to be set
free from all the dangers of life, and here have
I been run down by that self same water cart.
And my leg is broken. Dear me, said the physician.
This is very sad, but I perceive I must explain

(21:30):
to you the action of my paint. A broken bone
is a mighty small affair at the worst of it,
and it belongs to a class of accidents to which
my paint is quite inapplicable. Sin, my dear young friend,
Sin is the sole calamity that a wise man should apprehend.
It is against sin that I have fitted you out,
And when you come to be tempted, you will give

(21:52):
me news of my paint. Oh, said the young man.
I did not understand that, and it seems rather disappointing.
But I have no doubt all is for the best.
And in the meanwhile I shall be obliged to you
if you will set my leg. That is none of
my business, said the physician. But if your bearers will
carry you round the corner to the surgeons, I feel

(22:14):
sure he will afford relief. Some three years later, the
young man came running to the physician's house in a
great perturbation. What is the meaning of this, he cried?
Here was I to be set free from the bondage
of sin, and I have just committed forgery, arson and murder.
Dear me, said the physician, this is very serious. Off

(22:36):
with your clothes at once, and as soon as the
young man had stripped, he examined him from head to foot. No,
he cried, with great relief. There is not a flake broken.
Cheer up, my young friend. Your paint is as good
as new. Good God, cried the young man. And what then,
can be the use of it? Why, said the physician.

(22:58):
I perceive I must explain to you the nature of
the action of my paint. It does not exactly prevent sin.
It extenuates instead the painful consequences. It is not so
much for this world as for the next. It is
not against life. In short, it is against death that

(23:19):
I have fitted you out. And when you come to die,
you will give me news of my paint. Oh, cried
the young man. I had not understood that, and it
seems a little disappointing, But there no doubt all is
for the best. And in the meanwhile I shall be
obliged if you will help me to undo the evil
I have brought on innocent persons. That is none of

(23:40):
my business, said the physician. But if you will go
round the corner to the police office, I feel sure
it will afford you relief to give yourself up. Six
weeks later, the physician was called to the town jail.
What is the meaning of this, cried the young man. Here,
I am literally crusted with your and I've broken my

(24:01):
leg and committed all the crimes in the calendar, and
must be hanged tomorrow. And in the meanwhile, in a
fear so extreme that I lack words to picture it,
dear me, said the physician, this is really amazing. Well, well,
perhaps if you had not been painted, you would have
been more frightened still. End of section seven The Yellow Paint.

(24:33):
Section eight of Fables by Robert Louis Stevenson, The Slibrivox
recordings and the public Domain read by Ben Tucker. The
House of Eld. So soon as the child began to speak,
the guive was rivetted, and the boys and girls limped

(24:53):
about their play like convicts. Doubtless it was more pitiable
to see and more painful to bear in you. But
even the grown folk, besides being very unhandy on their feet,
were often sick with ulcers. About the time when Jack
was ten years old, many strangers began to journey through
that country. These he beheld going lightly by on the

(25:17):
long roads, and the thing amazed him. I wonder how
it comes, He asked, that all these strangers are so
quick a foot, and we must drag about our fetter,
My dear boy, said his uncle the Catechist. Do not
complain about your fetter, for it is the only thing
that makes life worth living. None are happy, none are good,

(25:41):
None are respectable that are not guived like us. And
I must tell you besides, it is very dangerous talk.
If you grumble of your iron you will have no luck.
If ever you take it off, you will be instantly
smitten by a thunderbolt. Are there no thunderbolts for these strangers?
Asked Jack. Jupiter is long suffering to the benighted, returned

(26:04):
the catechist, upon my word, I could wish I had
been less fortunate, said Jack, For if I had been
born benighted, I might now be going free. And it
cannot be denied. The iron is inconvenient, and the ulcer hurts, Ah,
cried his uncle. Do not envy the heathen. Theirs is
a sad lot. Ah, Poor souls, if they but knew

(26:26):
the joys of being fettered, poor souls. My heart yearns
for them. But the truth is they are vile, odious, insolent,
ill conditioned, stinking brutes, not truly human. For what is
a man without a fetter? And you cannot be too
particular not to touch or speak with them. After this talk,

(26:46):
the child would never pass one of the unfettered on
the road. But what he spat at him and called
him names, which was the practice of the children in
that part. It chanced one day, when he was fifteen,
he went into the woods, and the ulcer pained him.
It was a fair day with a blue sky. All
the birds were singing, but Jack nursed his foot. Presently

(27:08):
another song began. It sounded like the singing of a person,
only far more gay. At the same time there was
a beating on the earth. Jack put aside the leaves,
and there was a lad of his own village leaping
and dancing and singing to himself in a green dell.
And on the grass beside him lay the dancer's iron. Oh,

(27:31):
cried Jack, you have your fetter off, for God's sake,
don't tell your uncle, cried the lad. If you fear
my uncle, returned Jack, why do you not fear the thunderbolt? Ah,
that is only an old wives tale, said the other.
It is only told to children. Scores of us come
here among the woods and dance for nights together, and

(27:51):
are none the worse. This put Jack in a thousand
new thoughts. He was a grave lad. He had no
mind to dance himself. He wore his fetter manfully and
tended his ulcer without complaint. But he loved the less
to be deceived or to see others cheated. He began
to lie and wait for heathen travelers at covert parts

(28:12):
of the road, and in the dusk of the day,
so that he might speak with them unseen. And these
were greatly taken with their wayside questioner, and told him
things of weight. The wearing of guives, they said, was
no command of Jupiter's. It was the contrivance of a
white faced thing, a sorcerer, that dwelt in that country,
in the wood of eld. He was one like Glaucus,

(28:35):
that could change his shape. Yet he could be always told,
for when he was crossed he gobbled like a turkey.
He had three lives, but the third, smiting would make
an end of him, indeed, and would that his house
of sorcery would vanish the guive's fall, and the villagers
take hands and dance like children. And in your country,

(28:57):
Jack would ask. But at this the travelers, with one
a cord would put him off, until Jack began to
suppose there was no land entirely happy, or if there were,
it must be one that kept its folk at home,
which was natural enough. But the case of the guives
weighed upon him. The sight of the children limping stuck
in his eyes, the groans of sutches dressed their ulcers

(29:20):
haunted him. And it came at last in his mind
that he was born to free them. There was in
that village a sword of heavenly forgery, beaten upon Vulcan's anvil.
It was never used but in the temple, and then
the flat of it only, and it hung on a
nail by the catechus chimney. Early one night Jack rose

(29:41):
and took the sword, and was gone out of the
house and the village. In the darkness all night he
walked at a venture, and when day came he met
strangers going to the fields. Then he asked after the
wood of Eld and the house of sorcery, and one
said north, and one south, until Jack saw that they
deced him. So then when he asked his way of

(30:03):
any man, he showed the bright sword naked, and at
that the guive on the man's ankle rang and answered
in his stead, and the word was still straight on.
But the man, when his guide spoke, spat and struck
it Jack and threw stones at him as he went away,
so that his head was broken. So he came to

(30:24):
that wood and entered in, and he was aware of
a house in a low place where funguses grew, and
the trees met, and the steaming of the marsh arose
about it like a smoke. It was a fine house,
and a very rambling. Some parts of it were ancient,
like the hills, and some but of yesterday, and none finished.

(30:45):
And all the ends of it were open, so that
you could go in from every side. Yet it was
in good repair, and all the chimneys smoked. Jack went
in through the gable, and there was one room after another,
all bare, but all furnished in part so that a
man could dwell there. And in each there was a

(31:06):
fire burning where a man could warm himself, and a
table spread where he might eat. But Jack saw nowhere
any living creature, only the bodies of some stuffed This
is a hospitable house, said Jack. But the ground must
be quaggy underneath, for at every step the building quakes.

(31:28):
He had gone some time in the house when he
began to be hungry. Then he looked at the food,
and at first he was afraid, but he bared the sword,
and by the shining of the sword it seemed the
food was honest. So he took the courage to sit
down and eat, and he was refreshed in mind and body.
This is strange thought he that in the house of

(31:49):
sorcery there should be food so wholesome as he was
yet eating. There came into that room the appearance of
his uncle, and Jack was afraid because he had taken this.
But his uncle was never more kind, and sat down
to meet with him, and praised him because he had
taken the sword. Never had these two been more pleasantly together,

(32:11):
And Jack was full of love to the man. It
was very well done, said his uncle, to take the
sword and come yourself into the house of eld A
good thought and a brave deed. But now you are satisfied,
and we may go home to dinner arm in arm. Oh, dear, no,
said Jack. I am not satisfied yet, how cried his uncle.

(32:32):
Are you not warmed by the fire? Does not this
food sustain you? I see the food to be wholesome,
said Jack, And still it is no proof that a
man should wear a guivee on his right leg. Now
at this the appearance of his uncle gobbled like a turkey,
Jupiter cried Jack, is this the sorcerer? His hand held back,

(32:54):
and his heart failed him for the love he bore
his uncle, But he heaved up the sword and smote
the appearance on the head, and it cried out aloud
with the voice of his uncle, and fell to the ground,
and a little bloodless white thing fled from the room.
The cry rang in Jack's ears, and his knees smote together,
and conscience cried upon him. And yet he was strengthened,

(33:16):
and there woke in his bones the lust of that
enchanter's blood. If the guives are to fall, said he,
I must go through with this, and when I get home,
I shall find my uncle dancing. So he went on
after the bloodless thing. In the way he met the
appearance of his father, and his father was incensed and

(33:36):
railed upon him, and called to him upon his duty,
and bade him be home, while there was yet time
for you can still, said he be home by sunset,
and then all will be forgiven. God knows, said Jack,
I fear your anger, But yet your anger does not
prove that a man should wear a guive on his

(33:57):
right leg. At that, the appearance of his father gobbled
like a turkey. Ah heaven, cried Jack the sorcerer. Again,
the blood ran backward in his body, and his joints
rebelled against him. For the love he bore his father,
But he heaved up the sword and plunged it in
the heart of the appearance, And the appearance cried out

(34:20):
aloud with the voice of his father, and fell to
the ground, and the little, bloodless white thing fled from
the room. The cry rang in Jack's ears, and his
soul was darkened. But now rage came upon him. I
have done what I dared not think upon, said he.
I will go to an end with it, or perish.
And when I get home, I pray God, this may
be a dream, and I may find my father dancing.

(34:43):
So he went on after the bloodless thing that had escaped,
and in the way he met the appearance of his mother,
and she wept. What have you done? She cried, What
is this that you have done? Oh, come home, where
you may be by bedtime. There you do more ill
to me and mine, For it is enough to smite
my brother and your father. Dear mother, It is not

(35:07):
these that I have smitten, said Jack. It was but
the enchanter in their shape, And even if I had,
it would not prove that a man should wear a
guve on his right leg. And at this the appearance
gobbled like a turkey. He never knew how he did that,
but he swung the sword on the one side and
clothed the appearance through the midst and it cried out

(35:27):
aloud with the voice of his mother, and fell to
the ground. And with the fall of it, the house
was gone from over Jack's head, and he stood alone
in the woods, and the guive was loosened from his leg. Well,
said he, the enchanter is now dead, and the fetter gone.
But the cries rang in his soul, and the day
was like night to him. This has been a sore business,

(35:51):
said he. Let me go forth out of the wood
and see the good that I have done to others.
He thought to leave the fetter where it lay, but
when he turned to go, his mind was otherwise. So
he stooped and put the guive in his bosom, and
the rough iron galled him as he went, and his
bosom bled. Now, when he was forth of the wood

(36:11):
upon the highway, he met folk returning from the field.
And those he met had no fetter on the right leg,
but behold, they had one upon the left. Jack asked
them what it signified, and they said that was the
new where for the old was found to be a superstition.
Then he looked at them nearly, and there was a
new ulcer on the left ankle, and the old one

(36:34):
on the right was not yet healed. Now, may God
forgive me, cried Jack. I would I were well home.
And when he was home, there lay his uncle smitten
on the head, and his father pierced through the heart,
and his mother cloven through the midst And he sat
in the lone house and wept beside the bodies. Moral

(36:57):
old is the tree, and the fruit good, very old
and thick. The wood, woodman, is your courage, stout. Beware
the root is wrapped about your mother's heart, your father's bones,
and like the mandrake, comes with groans. End of section
eight The House of Eld Section nine of Fables by

(37:25):
Robert Louis Stevenson. This LibriVox recordings in the public domain,
read by Ben Tucker. The four Reformers. Four reformers met
under a bramble bush. They were all agreed. The world
must be changed. We must abolish property, set one. We
must abolish marriage, said the second. We must abolish God,

(37:49):
said the third. I wish we could abolish work, said
the fourth. Do not let us get beyond practical politics,
said the first. The first thing is to reduce men
to a common level. The first thing said, The second
is to give freedom to the sexes. The first thing said.

(38:09):
The third is to find out how to do it.
The first step said. The first is to abolish the Bible.
The first thing said. The second is to abolish the laws.
The first thing said, The third is to abolish mankind.
End of section nine, The Four Reformers. Section ten of

(38:38):
fables by Robert Louis Stevenson The Slebrivox Recordings in the
public Domain, read by Ben Tucker. The Man and his
Friend A man quarreled with his friend. I have been
much deceived in you, said the man, and the friend
made a face at him and went away. A little
after they both died and came together before the Great

(39:00):
White Justice of the Peace. It began to look black
for the friend, but the man, for a while had
a clear character and was getting in good spirits. I
find here some record of a quarrel, said the Justice,
looking in his notes. Which of you was in the wrong?
He was, said the man. He spoke ill of me

(39:20):
behind my back? Did he so? Said the Justice? And pray,
how did he speak about your neighbors. Oh he had
always a nasty tongue, said the man, And you chose
him for your friend, cried the justice, My good fellow,
we have no use here for fools. So the man

(39:42):
was cast in the pit, and the friend laughed out
loud in the dark, and remained to be tried on
other charges. End of section ten. The Man and his
Friend eleven of Fables by Robert Louis Stevenson The Slibrivox

(40:04):
Recordings in the public Domain, read by Ben Tucker. The reader.
I never read such an impious book, said the reader,
throwing it on the floor. You need not hurt me,
said the book. You will only get less for me
second hand. And I did not write myself, that is true,

(40:26):
said the reader. My quarrel is with your author, Ah well,
said the book. You need not buy his rant. That
is true, said the reader. But I thought him such
a cheerful writer. I find him so, said the book.
You must be differently made from me, said the reader.

(40:46):
Let me tell you a fable, said the book. There
were two men wrecked upon a desert island. One of
them made believe he was at home. The other admitted, Oh,
I know your kind of fable, said the reader. They
both died, and so they did, said the book. No
doubt of that, and everybody else that is true, said
the reader. Push it a little further for this once,

(41:09):
and when they were all dead, they were in God's hands,
the same as before, said the book. Not much to
boast of by your account, cried the reader. Who is
impious now, said the book. And the reader put him
on the fire. The coward crouches from the rod and
loathe the iron face of God. End of section eleven

(41:34):
The Reader, Section twelve of Fables by Robert Louis Stevenson.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, read by
Ben Tucker. The Citizen and the Traveler. Look round you,

(42:01):
said the citizen. This is the largest market in the world.
Oh surely not, said the traveler. Well perhaps not the largest,
said the citizen, but much the best. You are certainly
wrong there, said the traveler. I can tell you they

(42:24):
buried the stranger at the dusk end of section twelve.
The Citizen and the Traveler, Section thirteen of Fables by
Robert Louis Stevenson. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain.

(42:45):
Read by Ben Tucker, the distinguished stranger. Once upon a
time there came to this earth a visitor from a
neighboring planet, and he was met at the place of
his descent by a great philosopher who was to show
him everything. First of all, they came through a wood,

(43:05):
and the stranger looked upon the trees. Whom have we here?
Said he. They are only vegetables, said the philosopher. They
are alive, but not at all interesting. I don't know
about that, said the stranger. They seem to have very
good manners. Do they never speak? They lack the gift,

(43:29):
said the philosopher. Yet I think I hear them seeing,
said the other. That is only the wind among the leaves,
said the philosopher. I will explain to you the theory
of winds. It is very interesting, well, said the stranger.

(43:49):
I wish I knew what they are thinking. They cannot think,
said the philosopher. I don't know about that, returned the stranger,
and and then laying his hand upon a trunk, I
like these people, said he. They are not people at all,
said the philosopher. Come along. Next, they came through a

(44:12):
meadow where there were cows. These are very dirty people.
Said the stranger. They are not people at all, said
the philosopher, and he explained what a cow is in
scientific words which I have forgotten. That is all one
to me, said the stranger. But why do they never

(44:33):
look up? Because they are graminivorous, said the philosopher. And
to live upon grass, which is not highly nutritious, requires
so close an attention to business that they have no
time to think or speak, or look at the scenery
or keep themselves clean. Well, said the stranger. That is

(44:55):
one way to live, no doubt. But I prefer the
people with the green heads. Next, they came into a city,
and the streets were full of men and women. These
are very odd people, said the stranger. They are the
people of the greatest nation in the world, said the philosopher.

(45:15):
Are they indeed, said the stranger, they scarcely look so.
In section thirteen The Distinguished Stranger, Section fourteen of Fables
by Robert Louis Stevenson. This LibriVox recordings in the public

(45:38):
domain read by Ben Tucker. The cart Horses and the
saddle Horse. Two cart horses, a gelding and a mare,
were brought to Samoa and put in the same field
with a saddle horse to run free on the island.
They were rather afraid to go near him, for they
saw he was a saddle horse, and supposed he would

(46:01):
not speak to them. Now, the saddle horse had never
seen creatures so big. These must be great chiefs, thought he,
and he approached them civilly. Lady and gentlemen, said he.
I understand you are from the colonies. I offering my
affectionate compliments and make you heartily welcome to the island.

(46:22):
The colonials looked at him askance, and consulted with each other.
Who can he be, said the gelding. He seems suspiciously civil,
said the mare. I do not think he can be
much account, said the gelding. Depend upon it. He is
only a kanaka, said the mare. Then they turned to him.

(46:44):
Go to the devil, said the gelding. I wonder at
your impudence speaking to persons of our quality, cried the mare.
The saddle horse went away by himself. I was right,
said he, They are great chiefs. End of Section fourteen
The cart Horses and the saddle Horse, Section fifteen of

(47:14):
Fables by Robert Lewis Stevenson. This LibriVox recording is in
the public Domain, read by Ben Tucker. The Tadpole and
the Frog. Be ashamed of yourself, said the frog. When
I was a tadpole, I had no tail. Just what

(47:39):
I thought, said the tadpole, you were never a tadpole.
End of section fifteen. The Tadpole and the Frog, Section
sixteen of Fables by Robert Lewis Stevenson. The Slebrivox recording

(48:01):
is in the public domain, read by Ben Tucker. Something
in it. The natives told him many tales, and particular
they warned him of the house of yellow reeds tied
with black scentnet. How any one who touched it became
instantly the prey of a kanga, and was handed on
to him by Miru. The ruddy then hookassed with the

(48:25):
kava of the dead, and baked in the ovens, and
eaten by the eaters of the dead. There is nothing
in it, said the missionary. There was a bay upon
that island, a very fair bay to look upon, but
by the native saying it was death to bathe. There
there is nothing in that, said the missionary. And he

(48:47):
came to the bay and went swimming presently, and Eddy
took him and bore him towards the reef. Oh ho,
thought the missionary. It seems there's something in it after all,
And he swam the harder, but the eddy carried him away.
I do not care about this eddy, said the missionary,
And even as he said it, he was aware of

(49:09):
a house raised on piles above the sea. It was
built of yellow reeds, one reed joined with another, and
the whole bound with black scentet. A ladder led to
the door, and all about the house hung calabashes. He
had never seen such a house, nor yet such calabashes.
And the eddy set for the ladder. This is singular,

(49:31):
said the missionary, But there can be nothing in it.
And he laid hold of the ladder and went up.
It was a fine house, but there was no man there,
And when the missionary looked back, he saw no island,
only the heaving of the sea. It is strange about
the island, said the missionary. But who's afraid? My stories

(49:51):
are the true ones. And he laid hold of a calabash,
for he was one that loved curiosities. Now he had
no sooner laid hand upon the cali. Then that which
he handled, and that which he saw and stood on,
burst like a bubble. And was gone, and night closed
upon him, and the waters and the meshes of the net,
and he wallowed there like a fish. A body would

(50:15):
think there was something in this, said the missionary. But
if these tails are true, I wonder what about my tails? Now?
The flaming of Akanga's torch drew near in the night,
and the misshapen hands groped in the meshes of the net,
and they took the missionary between the finger and the thumb,
and bore him, dripping in the night and silence, to

(50:37):
the place of the ovens of Meru. And there was
Miru ruddy in the glow of the ovens, and there
sat her four daughters, and made the kava of the dead.
And there sat the comers out of the islands of
the living, dripping and lamenting. This was a dread place
to reach for any of the sons of men. But

(50:58):
of all who ever came there, the missionary was the
most concerned. And to make things worse, the person next
to him was a convert of his own. Aha, said
the convert. So you are here like your neighbors, And
how about all your stories? It seems, said the missionary,
with bursting tears, that there was nothing in them. By

(51:21):
this the cova of the dead was ready, and the
daughters of Miru began to intone in the old manner
of singing. Gone are the green islands and the bright sea,
the sun and the moon and the forty million stars,
and life and love and hope. Henceforth is no more
only to sit in the night in silence and see

(51:42):
your friends devoured, For life is a deceit, and the
bandage is taken from your eyes. Now, when the singing
was done, one of the daughters came with the bull.
Desire of that kava rose in the missionary's bosom. He
lusted for it like a good swimmer for the land,
or bridegroom for his bride. And he reached out his

(52:03):
hand and took the bowl and would have drunk. And
then he remembered and put it back. Drink, sang the
daughter of Miru. There is no kava like the kava
of the dead, and to drink of it once is
the reward of the living. I thank you, it smells excellent,
said the missionary. But I am a blue ribbon man myself,

(52:26):
and though I am aware there is a difference of
opinion even in our own confession. I have always held
kava to be excluded, what cried the convert. Are you
going to respect a taboo at a time like this?
And you are always so opposed to taboos when you
are alive to other peoples, said the missionary, Never to

(52:48):
my own, But yours have all proved wrong, said the convert.
It looks like it, said the missionary. And I can't
help that. No reason why I should break my word.
I never heard the like of this, cried the daughter
of Miru. Pray, what do you expect to gain? That

(53:08):
is not the point, said the missionary. I took this
pledge for others. I am not going to break it
for myself. The daughter of Miru was puzzled. She came
and told her mother, and Miru was vexed, and they
went and told a conga. I don't know what to
do about this, said a kanga, And he came in
reasoned with the missionary. But there is such a thing

(53:32):
as right and wrong, said the missionary, and your ovens
cannot alter that. Give the kava to the rest, said
a kanga to the daughters of Miru. I must get
rid of this sea lawyer instantly, or worse will come
of it. The next moment the missionary came up in
the midst of the sea, and there before him were

(53:53):
the palm trees of the island. He swam to the
shore gladly and landed. Much matter of thought was in
that missionary mind. I seem to have been misinformed upon
some points, said he. Perhaps there is not much in
it as I supposed, But there is something in it
after all. Let me be glad of that. And he

(54:15):
rained the bell for service moral. The sticks break, the
stones crumble, the eternal altars tilt and tumble, sanctions and
tales dislimb like mist about the amazed evangelist. He stands
unshook from age to youth upon one pin point of
the truth. End of section sixteen something in it Section

(54:46):
seventeen of Fables by Robert Louis Stevenson. This LibriVox recordings
in the public domain read by Ben Tucker. Faith, half faith,
and no faith at all. In the ancient days, there
and three men upon pilgrimage. One was a priest, and
one was a virtuous person, and the third was an
old rover with his axe. As they went, the priest

(55:10):
spoke about the grounds of faith. We find the proofs
of our religion and the works of nature, said he,
and beat his breast. That is true, said the virtuous person.
The peacock has a scrennal voice, said the priest, as
has been laid down always in our books. How cheering,

(55:30):
he cried, in a voice like one that wept, How comforting.
I require no such proofs, said the virtuous person. Then
you have no reasonable faith, said the priest. Great is
the right and shall prevail, cried the virtuous person. There
is loyalty in my soul. Be sure there is loyalty

(55:52):
in the mind of Odin these are but playings upon words,
returned the priest, a sackful of such trash as nothing
to the peacock. Just then they passed a country farm
where there was a peacock seated on a rail, and
the bird opened its mouth and saying, with the voice
of a nightingale, where are you now, asked the virtuous person,

(56:14):
And yet this shakes not me. Great is the truth
and shall prevail the devil. Fly away with that peacock,
said the priest, And he was downcast for a mile
or two. But presently they came to a shrine where
a fakir performed miracles, ah, said the priest. Here are
the true grounds of faith. The peacock was but an adminacle.

(56:37):
This is the base of our religion. And he beat
upon his breast and groaned like one with colic. Now
to me, said the virtuous person, all this is as
little to the purpose as the peacock. I believe, because
I see the right is great and must prevail. And
this fakir might carry on with his conjuring tricks till doomsday,
and it would not play bluff upon a man like me.

(57:00):
Now at this, the fakir was so much incensed that
his hand trembled and lo in the midst of a miracle,
the cards fell from up his sleeve. Where are you now,
asked the virtuous person. And yet it shakes not me
the devil fly away with the fakir, cried the priest.
I really do not see the good of going on

(57:20):
with this pilgrimage. Tear up, cried the virtuous person. Great
is the right and shall prevail. If you are quite
sure it will prevail, says the priest. I pledge my
word for that, said the virtuous person. So the other
began to go on again with a better heart. At
last one came running and told them all was lost,

(57:43):
that the powers of darkness had besieged the heavenly mansions,
that Odin was to die an evil triumph. I have
been grossly deceived, cried the virtuous person. All is lost now,
said the priest. I wonder if it is too late
to make it up with the devil, said the virtuous person. Oh,

(58:05):
I hope not, said the priest. And at any rate
we can but try. But what are you doing with
your axe? Says he to the rover. I am off
to die with Odin, said the rover. End of section
seventeen Faith, half faith, and no faith at all, Section

(58:32):
eighteen of Fables by Robert Louis Stevenson. This LibriVox recording
is in the public domain. Read by Ben Tucker The Touchstone.
The King was a man that stood well before the world.
His smile was sweet as clover, but his soul within
sides was as little as a pea. He had two sons,

(58:53):
and the younger son was a boy after his heart,
but the elder was one whom he feared. It befell
one morning that the drum sounded in the dun before
it was yet day, and the king rode with his
two sons and a brave array behind them. They rode
two hours and came to the foot of a brown
mountain that was very steep. Where do we ride, said

(59:15):
the elder son. Across this brown mountain, said the king,
and smiled to himself. My father knows what he is doing,
said the younger son. And they rode two hours more
and came to the sides of a black river that
was wondrous deep. And where do we ride, asked the
elder son. Over this black river, said the king, and

(59:37):
smiled to himself. My father knows what he is doing,
said the younger son. And they rode all that day,
and about the time of the sun's setting, came to
the side of a lake where was a great dun.
It is here we ride, said the king, to a
king's house, and a priest's and a house where you
will learn much. At the gates of the dune. The king,

(01:00:01):
who was a priest, met them, and he was a
grave man, and beside him stood his daughter, and she
was as fair as the morn, and one that smiled
and looked down. These are my two sons, said the
first king. And here is my daughter said the king,
who was a priest. She is a wonderful, fine maid,

(01:00:22):
said the first king, And I like her manner of smiling.
They are wonderful well grown lads, said the second, and
I like their gravity. And then the two kings looked
at each other and said, the thing may come about.
And in the meanwhile, the two lads looked upon the maid,
and the one grew pale, and the other red. And

(01:00:44):
the maid looked upon the ground smiling. Here is the
maid that I shall marry, said the elder, for I
think she smiled upon me. But the younger plucked his
father by the sleeve. Father said he a word in
your ear. If I find favor in your sight, might
I not wed this maid? For I think she smiles

(01:01:04):
upon me. A word in yours, said the king his father.
Waiting is good hunting. And when the teeth are shut,
the tongue is at home. Now they were come into
the dun and feasted, And this was a great house,
so that the lads were astonished. And the king that

(01:01:24):
was a priest, sat at the end of the board
and was silent, so that the lads were filled with reverence.
And the maid served them, smiling with downcast eyes, so
that their hearts were enlarged. Before it was day, the
elder son arose and he found the maid at her weaving,
for she was a diligent girl. Maid, quoth he, I

(01:01:47):
would fain marry you. You must speak with my father,
said she, and she looked upon the ground, smiling, and
became like the rose. Her heart is with me, said
the elder son, and he went down to the lake
and sing. A little after came the younger son. Maid.
Quoth he, if our fathers were agreed, I would like

(01:02:10):
well to marry you. You can speak to my father,
said she, and looked upon the ground and smiled and
grew like the rose. She is a dutiful daughter, said
the younger son. She will make an obedient wife. And
then he thought what shall I do, and he remembered

(01:02:30):
the king. Her father was a priest. So he went
into the temple and sacrificed a weasel and a hair.
Presently the news got about, and the two lads and
the first king were called into the presence of the king,
who was a priest, where he sat upon the high seat.
Little I reckon of gear, said the king, who was
a priest, And little of power, For we live here

(01:02:52):
among the shadows of things, and the heart is sick
of seeing them. And we stay here in the wind
like raiment drying, and the heart is wary of the wind.
But one thing I love, and that is truth. And
for one thing will I give my daughter, And that
is the trial stone. For in the light of that stone,
the seeming goes and the being shows, and all things

(01:03:15):
besides are worthless. Therefore, lads, if ye would wet my
daughter out foot and bring me the stone of Touch,
for that is the price of her A word in
your ear, said the younger son to his father. I
think we do very well without this stone. A word
in yours, said his father. I am of your way

(01:03:38):
of thinking. But when the teeth are shut, the tongue
is at home. Then he smiled to the king that
was a priest. But the elder son got to his
feet and called the king that was a priest by
the name of Father. For whether I marry the maid
or no, I will call you by that word, for
the love of your wisdom. And even now I will
ride forth and search the world for the stone of Touch.

(01:04:01):
So he said, farewell, and rode into the world. I
think I will go too, said the younger son, if
I can have your leave, for my heart goes out
to the maid. You will ride home with me, said
his father. So they rode home, and when they came
to the dun, the king had his son into his treasury. Here,

(01:04:24):
said he is the touchstone which shows truth. For there
is no truth but plain truth. And if you will
look in this, you will see yourself as you are.
And the younger son looked in it and saw his
face as it were the face of a beardless youth.
And he was well enough pleased, for the thing was
a piece of a mirror. Here is no such great

(01:04:46):
thing to make a work about, said he. But if
it will get me the maid, I shall never complain.
But what a fool is my brother to ride into
the world and the thing all the while at home.
So they rode back to the other dun and showed
the mirror to the king that was a priest. And
when he had looked in it and seen himself like
a king, and his house like a king's house, and

(01:05:08):
all things like themselves, he cried out and blessed God.
For now I know, said he. There is no truth
but the plain truth, and I am a king, indeed,
although my heart misgave me, and he pulled down his
temple and built a new one. And then the younger
son was married to the maid. In the meantime, the
elder son rode into the world to find the touch

(01:05:29):
stone of the Trial of truth, And whenever he came
to a place of habitation, he would ask the men
if they had heard of it, and in every place
the men answered, not only have we heard of it,
but we alone of all men, possessed the thing itself,
and it hangs in the side of our chimney to
this day. Then would the elder son be glad and
beg for a sight of it. And sometimes it would

(01:05:51):
be a piece of mirror that showed the seeming of things,
and then he would say, this can never be, for
there should be more than seeming. And sometimes it would
be a lump of coal which showed nothing, and then
he would say, this can never be, for at least
there is the seeming. And sometimes it would be a
touch stone, indeed, beautiful in hue, adorned with polishing delight

(01:06:13):
inhabiting its sides. And when he found this he would
beg the thing, and the persons of that place would
give it to him, for all men were very generous
of that gift, so that at the last he had
his wallet full of them, and they chinked together when
he rode, and when he halted by the side of
the way, he would take them out and try them
till his head turned like the sails upon a windmill.

(01:06:36):
A moraine upon this business, said the elder son, for
I perceive no end to it. Here I have the red,
and here the blue and the green, and to me
they all seem excellent, and yet shame each other. A
moraine on the trade. If it were not for the king,
that is a priest, and whom I had called my father,
and if it were not for the fair maid of
the dun that makes my mouth to sing in my

(01:06:57):
heart enlarge, I would even humble them all into the
salt sea and go home and be a king like
other folk. But he was like the hunter that has
seen a stag upon a mountain, so that the night
may fall and the fire be kindled, and the lights
shine in his house. But desire of that stag is
single in his bosom. Now, after many years, the elder

(01:07:21):
son came upon the sides of the salt sea, and
it was night and a savage place, and the clamor
of the sea was loud. There he was aware of
a house and a man that sat there by the
light of a candle, for he had no fire. Now
the elder son came in to him, and the man
gave him water to drink, for he had no bread,

(01:07:42):
and wagged his head when he was spoken to, for
he had no words. Have you the touchstone of truth?
Asked the elder son. And when the man had wagged
his head, I might have known, that, cried the elder son.
I have here a wallet full of them. And with
that he laughed, although his heart was wary. And with

(01:08:02):
that the man laughed too, And with the fuff of
his laughter, the candle went out. Sleep, said the man.
For now I think you have come far enough, and
your quest has ended, and my candle is out. Now.
When the morning came, the man gave him a clear
pebble in his hand, and it had no beauty and

(01:08:23):
no color. And the elder son looked upon it scornfully
and shook his head, and he went away, for it
seemed a small affair to him. All that day he
rode and his mind was quiet, and the desire of
the chase allayed. How if this poor pebble be the
touch stone after all? Said he, And he got down

(01:08:44):
from his horse and emptied forth his wallet by the
side of the way. Now, in the light of each other,
all the touch stones lost their hue and fire, and
withered like stars at morning. But in the light of
the pebble their beauty remained. Only the pebble was the
most bright. And the elder son smote upon his brow.

(01:09:04):
How if this be the truth? He cried, that all
are a little true. And he took the pebble and
turned its light upon the heavens, and they deepened above
him like the pit. And he turned it on the hills,
and the hills were cold and rugged, but life ran
in their sides, so that his own life bounded. And
he turned it on the dust, and he beheld the
dust with joy and terror. And he turned it on himself,

(01:09:26):
and kneeled down and prayed. Now, thanks be to God,
said the elder son, I have found the touch stone.
And now I may turn my reins and ride home
to the king and to the maid of the dun
that makes my mouth sing and my heart in large Now,
when he came to the dun, he saw children playing
by the gate where the king had met him in

(01:09:46):
the old days. And this stayed his pleasure, for he
thought in his heart, it is here my children should
be playing. And when he came into the hall, there
was his brother on the high seat, and the maid
beside him, And at that his anger rose free thought
in his heart. It is I that should be sitting there,
and the maid beside me. Who are you, said his brother,

(01:10:09):
And what make you and the gun? I am your
elder brother, he replied, And I am come to marry
the maid, for I have brought the touchstone of truth.
Then the younger brother laughed aloud, Why, said he, I
found the touchstone years ago and married the maid. And
there are our children playing at the gate. Now at
this the elder brother grew as gray as the dawn.

(01:10:32):
I pray you have dealt justly, said he, for I
perceive my life as lost. Justly, quoth the younger brother,
it becomes you, ill, that are a restless man, and
a run of it to doubt my justice. Are the
King my fathers, that are sedentary folk and known in
the land. Nay, said the elder brother, you have all else,

(01:10:55):
have patience also, and suffer me to say the world
is full of touch stones, and it appears not easily,
which is true. I have no shame of mine, said
the younger brother. There it is, and look in it.
So the elder brother looked in the mirror, and he
was sore, amazed, for he was an old man, and
his hair was white upon his head. And he sat

(01:11:16):
down in the hall and wept aloud. Now said the
younger brother. See what a fool's part you have played.
That ran over all the world to seek what was
lying in our father's treasury, and came back an old
caral for the dogs to bark at, and without chick
or child. And I that was dutiful and wise. Sit here,
crowned with virtues and pleasures, and happy in the light

(01:11:37):
of my hearth. Methinks you have a cruel tongue, said
the elder brother, And he pulled out the clear pebble
and turned its light on his brother, And behold, the
man was lying. His soul was shrunk into the smallness
of a pea, and his heart was a bag of
little fears like scorpions, and love was dead in his bosom,

(01:11:58):
and At that the elder brother cried out aloud and
turned the light of the pebble on the maid, and lo,
she was but a mask of a woman, and within
science she was quite dead. And she smiled as a
clock ticks, and knew not. Wherefore, oh well, said the
elder brother, I perceive there is both good and bad.

(01:12:20):
So fare ye all as well as ye may in
the dun But I will go forth into the world
with my pebble in my pocket. End of section eighteen
The Touchstone. Section nineteen of Fables by Robert Louis Stevenson,

(01:12:43):
This LibriVox recordings and the public Domain read by Ben Tucker.
The poor Thing. There was a man in the islands
who fished for his bare bellyful, and took his life
in his hands to go forth upon the sea between
four planks. But though he had much ado, he was

(01:13:03):
merry of heart, and the gulls heard him laugh when
the spray met him. And though he had little lore,
he was sound of spirit, and when the fish came
to his hook in the mid waters, he blessed God
without weighing. He was bitter poor in goods, and bitter
ugly of countenance, and he had no wife. It fell
in the time of the fishing that the man awoke

(01:13:24):
in his house, about the midst of the afternoon. The
fire burned in the midst, and the smoke went up,
and the sun came down by the chimney, and the
man was aware of the likeness of one that warmed
his hands at the red peats. Aye greet you, said
the man, in the name of God. I greet you,

(01:13:45):
said he that warmed his hands. But not in the
name of God, for I am none of his, nor
in the name of Hell. For I am not of hell.
For I am but a bloodless thing, less than wind,
and lighter than a sound. And the wind goes through
me like a net, and I am broken by a sound,
and shaken by the cold. Be plain with me, said

(01:14:06):
the man, and tell me your name, and of your
nature my name quoth the other is not yet named
in my nature, not yet sure, For I am part
of a man, and I was a part of your
father's and went out to fish and fight with them
in the ancient days. But now is my turn not

(01:14:27):
yet come. And I wait until you have a wife,
and then shall I be in your son, and a
brave part of him. Rejoicing. Manfully to launch the boat
into the surf, skillful to direct the helm, and a
man of might where the ring closes and the blows
are going. This is a marvelous thing to hear, said

(01:14:50):
the man. And if you are indeed to be my son,
I fear it will go ill with you, For I
am bitter poor in goods, and bitter ugly in face,
and I shall never get me a wife if I
live to the age of eagles. All this have I
come to remedy, my father, said the poor thing, For
we must go this night to the little isle of sheep,

(01:15:12):
where our fathers lie in the dead cairn, and tomorrow
to the earl's hall, and there shall you find a
wife by my providing. So the man rose and put
forth his boat at the time of the sun setting,
and the poor thing sat in the prow, and the
spray blew through his bones like snow, and the wind
whistled in his teeth, and the boat dipped not with

(01:15:35):
the weight of him. I am fearful to see you,
my son, said the man, for methinks you are no
thing of God. It is only the wind that whistles
in my teeth, said the poor thing, and there is
no life in me to keep it out. So they
came to the little isle of sheep, where the surf

(01:15:56):
burst all about it in the midst of the sea,
and it was all green with bracken and all wet
with dew, and the moon enlightened it. They ran the
boat into a cove and set foot to land, And
the man came heavily behind among the rocks in the
deepness of the bracken. But the poor thing went before

(01:16:17):
him like a smoke in the light of the moon.
So they came to the dead cairn, and they laid
their ears to the stones, and the dead complained within
sides like a swarm of bees. Time was that marrow
was in our bones, and strength in our sinews, and
the thoughts of our head were clothed upon with axe

(01:16:39):
and the words of men. But now are we broken
in sunder, and the bonds of our bones are loosened,
and our thoughts lie in the dust. Then the poor
thing charge them that they give you the virtue they withheld,
And the man said, bones of my father's greeting, For

(01:17:03):
I am sprung of your loins, And now behold I
break open the piled stones of your cairn, and I
let in the noon between your ribs. Count it well done,
for it was to be. And give me what I
come seeking, in the name of Blood and in the
name of God. And the spirits of the dead stirred
in the cairn like ants, and they spoke, You have

(01:17:26):
broken the roof of our cairn, and let in the
noon between our ribs. And you have the strength of
the still living. But what virtue have we, what power,
or what jewel here in the dust with us, that
any living man should cover or receive it? For we
are less than nothing. But we tell you one thing,

(01:17:48):
speaking with many voices like bees, that the way is
plain before all, like the grooves of launching. So forth
in to life, and fear not, for so did we
all in the ancient ages. And the voices passed away
like an eddy in a river. Now said the poor thing.

(01:18:12):
They have told you a lesson, But make them give
you a gift. Stoop your hand among the bones without drawback,
and you shall find their treasure. So the man stooped
his hand, and the dead laid hold upon it, many
and faint, like ants. But he shook them off, and
behold what he brought up in his hand was the

(01:18:34):
shoe of a horse, and it was rusty. It is
a thing of no price, quoth the man, For it
is rusty. We shall see, that, said the poor thing.
For in my thought, it is a good thing to
do what our fathers did, and to keep what they
kept without question. And in my thought, one thing is

(01:18:57):
as good as another in this world, and the shoe
of a horse will do. Now they got into their
boat with the horse shoe, And when the dawn was come,
they were aware of the smoke of the earl's town
and the bells of the kirk that beat. So they
set foot to shore. And the man went up to
the market among the fishers, over against the palace and

(01:19:19):
the kirk. And he was bitter poor, and bitter ugly,
and he had never a fish to sell, but only
a shoe of a horse and his creole. And it rusty. Now,
said the poor thing. Do so. And so when you
shall find a wife, and I a mother. It befell

(01:19:39):
that the earl's daughter came forth to go into the
kirk upon her prayers, and when she saw the poor
man stand in the market with only the shoe of
a horse, and it rusty. It came in her mind
it should be a thing of price. What is that?
Quoth she? It is a shoe of a horse, said
the man. And what is the use of it? Quoth

(01:20:02):
the earl's daughter. It is for no use, said the man.
I may not believe that, said she. Else, why should
you carry it? I do so, said he, because it
was so my fathers did in the ancient ages. And
I have neither a better reason nor a worse. Now.
The earl's daughter could not find it in her mind

(01:20:23):
to believe him. Come, quoth she sell me this? For
I am sure it is a thing of price? Nay,
said the man, the thing is not for sale, what
cried the earl's daughter. Then what make you hear in
the town's market with the thing in your creole? And
not beside? I sit here, says the man, to get

(01:20:45):
me a wife. There is no sense in any of
these answers, thought the earl's daughter. And I could find
it in my heart to weep by came the earl
upon that, and she called him and told him all.
And when he had heard, he was of his daughter's
mind that this should be a thing of virtue, and
charged the man to set a price upon the thing,
or else be hanged upon the gallows, and that was

(01:21:08):
near at hand, so that the man could see it.
The way of life is straight, like the grooves of launching,
quoth the man. And if I am to be hanged,
let me be hanged. Why, cried the earl. Will you
set your neck against a shoe of a horse? And
it rusty? In my thought? Said the man. One thing

(01:21:28):
is as good as another in this world, and a
shoe of a horse will do. This can never be
thought the earl. And he stood and looked upon the man,
and bit his beard, and the man looked up at
him and smiled. It was so my fathers did in
the ancient ages, quoth he to the earl. And I
have neither a better reason, nor a worse. There is

(01:21:51):
no sense in any of this, thought the earl. And
I must be growing old. So he had his daughter
on one side, and says he money. Soon have you denied,
my child? But here is a very strange matter that
a man should cling so to a shoe of a horse,
and it rusty, and that he should offer it like
a thing on sale, and yet not sell it, and
that he should sit there seeking a wife. If I

(01:22:14):
come not to the bottom of this thing, I shall
have no more pleasure in bread. And I can see
no way. But either I should hang or you should
marry him by my trout. But he's bitter ugly, said
the earl's daughter. How if the gallows be so near
at hand? It was not so, said the earl, that
my father's did in the ancient ages. I am like

(01:22:36):
the man, and can give you neither a better reason
nor worse. But do you prithee speak with him again?
So the earl's daughter spoke to the man, if he
were not so bitter ugly, quoth she my father, the
earl would have us marry better ugly, am I said
the man, And you as fair as may bitter ugly?

(01:22:57):
I am? And what of that? It was so my
father's in the name of God, said the earl's daughter.
Let your fathers be if I had done that, said
the man, you had never been chaffering with me here
in the market, nor your father, the earl watching with
the end of his eye. But come, quoth the earl's daughter,

(01:23:19):
this is a very strange thing that you would have
me wed for a shoe of a horse. And it
rusty in my thought, quoth the man. One thing's as good.
Oh spare me that, said the Earl's daughter, and tell
me why I should marry. Listen and look, said the man.
Now the wind blew through the poor thing like an infant, crying,

(01:23:40):
so that her heart was melted and her eyes were unsealed,
and she was aware of the thing as it were
a babe unmothered. And she took it to her arms,
and it melted in her arms like the air. Come,
said the man. Behold a vision of our children, the
busy hearth and the white heads. And let that suffice,

(01:24:01):
for it is all God offers. I have no delight
in it, said she. But with that she sighed. The
ways of life are straight, like the grooves of launching,
said the man, And he took her by the hand.
And what shall we do with the horseshoe, quoth she.
I will give it to your father, said the man,

(01:24:22):
And he can make a kirk and a mill of
it for me. It came to pass in time that
the poor thing was born. But memory of these matters
slept within him, and he knew not that which he
had done, But he was a part of the eldest son, rejoicing,
manfully to launch the boat into the surf, skillful to
direct the helm, and a man of might, where the

(01:24:44):
ring closes and the blows are going. End of Section
nineteen The Poor Thing. Section twenty of fables by Robert
Louis Stevenson, the LibriVox recordings and the public Domain led

(01:25:07):
by Ben Tucker. The Song of the Morrow. The King
of Duntren had a daughter when he was old, and
she was the fairest king's daughter between two seas. Her
hair was like spun gold, and her eyes like pools
in a river. And the king gave her a castle
upon the sea beach, with a terrace and a court

(01:25:28):
of the hewn stone, and four towers at the four corners.
Here she dwelt and grew up, and had no care
for the morrow, and no power upon the hour, after
the manner of simple men. It befell that she walked
one day by the beach of the sea when it
was autumn, and the wind blew from the place of rains,

(01:25:49):
and upon the one hand of her the sea beat,
and upon the other the dead leaves ran. This was
the loneliest beach between two seas, and strange things had
been done there in the ancient ages. Now the king's
daughter was aware of a crone that sat upon the beach.
The sea foam ran to her feet, and the dead

(01:26:10):
leaves swarmed about her back, and the rags blew about
her face in the blowing of the wind. Now, said
the king's daughter, and she named a holy name. This
is the most unhappy old crone between two seas. Daughter
of a king, said the crone. You dwell in a

(01:26:30):
stone house, and your hair is like the gold. But
what is your prophet? Life is not long nor lives
strong as you live after the way of simple men,
and have no thought for the morrow, and no power
upon the hour. Thought for the morrow that I have,
said the king's daughter, But power upon the hour, that

(01:26:54):
have I not. And she mused with herself. Then the
crones smote her lean hands, one within the other, and
laughed like a seagull. Home, cried she o, daughter of
a king, Home to your stone house, for the longing
has come upon you now. Nor can you live by

(01:27:14):
any more after the manner of simple men. Home, and
toil and suffer till the gift come that will make
you bear, and till the man come that will bring
you care. The king's daughter made no more ado, but
she turned about and went home to her house in silence.
And when she was come into her chamber, she called

(01:27:35):
for her nurse. Nurse said, the King's daughter, thought has
come upon me for the morrow, so that I can
live no more after the manner of simple men. Tell
me what I must do that I may have power
upon the hour. Then the nurse moaned like a snow wind.
Alas said she that this thing should be. But the

(01:27:58):
thought is gone, and to your marrow, Nor is there
any cure against the thought. Be it so? Then, even
as you will, though power is less than weakness, power
shall you have. And though the thought is colder than winter,
yet shall you think it to an end? So the
king's daughter sat in her vaulted chamber in the masoned house,

(01:28:22):
and she thought upon the thought. Nine years she sat,
and the sea beat upon the terrace, and the gauls
cried about the turrets, and wind crooned in the chimneys
of the house. Nine years she came not abroad, nor
tasted the clean air, neither saw God's sky. Nine years

(01:28:43):
she sat and looked neither to the right nor to
the left, nor heard speech of any one, but thought
upon the thought of the morrow. And her nurse fed
her in silence, and she took of the food with
her left hand, and ate it without grace. Now, when
the nine years were out, fell dusk in the autumn,
and there came a sound in the wind, like a

(01:29:03):
sound of piping. At that the nurse lifted up her
finger in the vaulted house. I hear a sound in
the wind, said she. That is like the sound of piping.
It is but a little sound, said the King's daughter.
But yet is it sound enough for me? So they

(01:29:24):
went down in the dusk to the doors of the house,
and along the beach of the sea, and the waves
beat upon the one hand and upon the other. The
dead leaves ran, and the clouds raced in the sky,
and the gulls flew Whittersens. And when they came to
that part of the beach where strange things had been
done in the ancient ages, lo there was the crone,

(01:29:47):
and she was dancing Whittersen's. What makes you dance? Whittersen's,
old crone, said the King's daughter. Here upon the bleak beach,
between the waves and the dead leaves, I hear sad,
and the wind that is like a sound of piping,
quoth she. And it is for that that I dance wittershins.

(01:30:08):
For the gift comes that will make you bear, and
the man comes that must bring you care. But for me,
the morrow is come that I have thought upon, and
the hour of my power. How come it, crone, said
the King's daughter, that you waver like a rag and
pale like a dead leaf before my eyes. Because the

(01:30:29):
morrow has come that I have thought upon, and the
hour of my power, said the crone. And she fell
on the beach, and lo she was but stalks of
the sea tangle, and dust of the sea sand, and
the sand lice hopped upon the place of her. This
is the strangest thing that befell between two seas, said

(01:30:50):
the King's daughter of Duntren. But the nurse broke out
and moaned like an autumn gale. I am weary of
the wind, quoth she, And she bewailed her day. The
King's daughter was aware of a man upon the beach.
He went hooded so that none might perceive his face,
and a pipe was underneath his arm. The sound of

(01:31:11):
his pipe was like singing wasps. And like the wind
that sings and window straw, and it took hold upon
men's ears like the crying of gulls. Are you the comer,
quoth the King's Daughter of Duntrene. I am come, said he,
And these are the pipes that a man may hear,
And I have power upon the hour. And this is

(01:31:33):
the song of the Morrow. And he piped the song
of the Morrow, and it was as long as years,
and the nurse wept out aloud at the hearing of it.
This is true, said the King's daughter, that ye pipe
the song of the morrow, but that ye have power
upon the hour. How may I know that? Show me
a marvel here upon the beach, between the waves and

(01:31:55):
the dead leaves. And the man said, upon whom here
is my nurse, quoth the King's daughter. She is wary
of the wind. Show me a good marvel upon her.
And lo, the nurse fell upon the beach, as it
were two handfuls of dead leaves, and the wind whirled
them whitter shins, and the sand lice hopped between. It

(01:32:17):
is true, said the King's Daughter of Duntrene. You are
the comer, and you have power upon the hour. Come
with me to my stone house. So they went by
the sea margin, and the man piped the song of
the Morrow, and the leaves followed behind them as they went.
Then they sat down together, and the sea beat on
the terrace, and the gulls cried about the towers, and

(01:32:40):
the wind crooned in the chimneys of the house. Nine
years they sat, and every year when it fell autumn,
the man said, this is the hour, and I have
power in it. And the daughter of the king said, nay,
but pipe me the song of the Morrow. And he
piped it, and it was long like years now. When

(01:33:02):
the nine years were gone, the king's daughter of Duntrine
got her to her feet, like one that remembers, and
she looked about her in the masoned house, and all
her servants were gone. Only the man that piped sat
upon the terrace with the hand upon his face, And
as he piped, the leaves ran about the terrace, and
the sea beat along the wall. Then she cried to

(01:33:24):
him with a great voice, this is the hour, and
let me see the power of it. And with that
the wind blew off the hand from the man's face,
and lo, there was no man there, only the clothes
and the hand and the pipes tumbled one upon another
in a corner of the terrace, and the dead leaves

(01:33:44):
ran over them. And the king's daughter of Duntrine got
her to that part of the beach where strange things
had been done in the ancient ages, and there she
sat her down. The sea foam ran to her feet,
and the dead leaves swarmed about her back, and the
veil blew about her face in the blowing of the wind.

(01:34:06):
And when she lifted up her eyes, there was the
daughter of a king come walking on the beach. Her
hair was like the spun gold, and her eyes like
pools in a river. And she had no thought for
the morrow, and no power upon the hour, after the
manner of simple men. End of Section twenty, Song of

(01:34:30):
the Morrow, end of Fables by Robert Louis Stevenson