The Little Robber Girl
The Boy Who Cried Wolf
AMERICAN INDIAN STORIES
Animal Sketches And Stories
Blondine Bonne Biche and Beau Minon
BRER RABBIT and HIS NEIGHBORS
CHINESE MOTHER-GOOSE RHYMES
FABLES FOR CHILDREN
FABLES FROM INDIA
FATHER PLAYS AND MOTHER PLAYS
FIRST STORIES FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK
For Classes Ii. And Iii.
For Classes Iv. And V.
For Kindergarten And Class I.
FUN FOR VERY LITTLE FOLK
Good Little Henry
JAPANESE AND OTHER ORIENTAL TALES]
Jean De La Fontaine
King Alexander's Adventures
KINGS AND WARRIORS
LAND AND WATER FAIRIES
Lessons From Nature
LITTLE STORIES that GROW BIG
MODERN FAIRY TALES
MOTHER GOOSE CONTINUED
MOTHER GOOSE JINGLES
MOTHER GOOSE SONGS AND STORIES
Myths And Legends
NEGLECT THE FIRE
ON POPULAR EDUCATION
PLACES AND FAMILIES
Poems Of Nature
RESURRECTION DAY (EASTER)
RHYMES CONCERNING "MOTHER"
RIDING SONGS for FATHER'S KNEE
ROMANCES OF THE MIDDLE AGES
SAINT VALENTINE'S DAY
Selections From The Bible
SLEEPY-TIME SONGS AND STORIES
Some Children's Poets
Songs Of Life
STORIES BY FAVORITE AMERICAN WRITERS
STORIES FOR CHILDREN
STORIES for LITTLE BOYS
STORIES FROM BOTANY
STORIES FROM GREAT BRITAIN
STORIES FROM IRELAND
STORIES FROM PHYSICS
STORIES FROM SCANDINAVIA
STORIES FROM ZOOLOGY
STORIES _for_ LITTLE GIRLS
THE DAYS OF THE WEEK
The King Of The Golden River; Or, The Black Brothers
The Little Grey Mouse
THE OLD FAIRY TALES
The Princess Rosette
THE THREE HERMITS
THE TWO OLD MEN
UNCLES AND AUNTS AND OTHER RELATIVES
VERSES ABOUT FAIRIES
WHAT MEN LIVE BY
WHERE LOVE IS, THERE GOD IS ALSO
from The Green Fairy Book
Once upon a time there was a handsome black Spanish hen, who had
a large brood of chickens. They were all fine, plump little
birds, except the youngest, who was quite unlike his brothers and
sisters. Indeed, he was such a strange, queer-looking creature,
that when he first chipped his shell his mother could scarcely
believe her eyes, he was so different from the twelve other
fluffy, downy, soft little chicks who nestled under her wings.
This one looked just as if he had been cut in two. He had only
one leg, and one wing, and one eye, and he had half a head and
half a beak. His mother shook her head sadly as she looked at him
'My youngest born is only a half-chick. He can never grow up a
tall handsome cock like his brothers. They will go out into the
world and rule over poultry yards of their own; but this poor
little fellow will always have to stay at home with his mother.'
And she called him Medio Pollito, which is Spanish for
Now though Medio Pollito was such an odd, helpless-looking little
thing, his mother soon found that he was not at all willing to
remain under her wing and protection. Indeed, in character he was
as unlike his brothers and sisters as he was in appearance. They
were good, obedient chickens, and when the old hen chicked after
them, they chirped and ran back to her side. But Medio Pollito
had a roving spirit in spite of his one leg, and when his mother
called to him to return to the coop, he pretended that he could
not hear, because he had only one ear.
When she took the whole family out for a walk in the fields,
Medio Pollito would hop away by himself, and hide among the
Indian corn. Many an anxious minute his brothers and sisters had
looking for him, while his mother ran to and fro cackling in fear
As he grew older he became more self-willed and disobedient, and
his manner to his mother was often very rude, and his temper to
the other chickens very disagreeable.
One day he had been out for a longer expedition than usual in the
fields. On his return he strutted up to his mother with the
peculiar little hop and kick which was his way of walking, and
cocking his one eye at her in a very bold way he said:
'Mother, I am tired of this life in a dull farmyard, with nothing
but a dreary maize field to look at. I'm off to Madrid to see the
'To Madrid, Medio Pollito!' exclaimed his mother; 'why, you silly
chick, it would be a long journey for a grown-up cock, and a poor
little thing like you would be tired out before you had gone half
the distance. No, no, stay at home with your mother, and some
day, when you are bigger, we will go a little journey together.'
But Medio Pollito had made up his mind, and he would not listen
to his mother's advice, nor to the prayers and entreaties of his
brothers and sisters.
'What is the use of our all crowding each other up in this poky
little place?' he said. 'When I have a fine courtyard of my own
at the King's palace, I shall perhaps ask some of you to come and
pay me a short visit,' and scarcely waiting to say good-bye to
his family, away he stumped down the high road that led to
'Be sure that you are kind and civil to everyone you meet,'
called his mother, running after him; but he was in such a hurry
to be off, that he did not wait to answer her, or even to look
A little later in the day, as he was taking a short cut through a
field, he passed a stream. Now the stream was all choked up, and
overgrown with weeds and water-plants, so that its waters could
not flow freely.
'Oh! Medio Pollito,' it cried, as the half-chick hopped along its
banks, 'do come and help me by clearing away these weeds.'
'Help you, indeed!' exclaimed Medio Pollito, tossing his head,
and shaking the few feathers in his tail. 'Do you think I have
nothing to do but to waste my time on such trifles? Help
yourself, and don't trouble busy travellers. I am off to Madrid
to see the King,' and hoppity-kick, hoppity-kick, away stumped
A little later he came to a fire that had been left by some
gipsies in a wood. It was burning very low, and would soon be
'Oh! Medio Pollito,' cried the fire, in a weak, wavering voice as
the half-chick approached, 'in a few minutes I shall go quite
out, unless you put some sticks and dry leaves upon me. Do help
me, or I shall die!'
'Help you, indeed!' answered Medio Pollito. 'I have other things
to do. Gather sticks for yourself, and don't trouble me. I am off
to Madrid to see the King,' and hoppity-kick, hoppity-kick, away
stumped Medio Pollito.
The next morning, as he was getting near Madrid, he passed a
large chestnut tree, in whose branches the wind was caught and
entangled. 'Oh! Medio Pollito,' called the wind, 'do hop up here,
and help me to get free of these branches. I cannot come away,
and it is so uncomfortable.'
'It is your own fault for going there,' answered Medio Pollito.
'I can't waste all my morning stopping here to help you. Just
shake yourself off, and don't hinder me, for I am off to Madrid
to see the King,' and hoppity-kick, hoppity-kick, away stumped
Medio Pollito in great glee, for the towers and roofs of Madrid
were now in sight. When he entered the town he saw before him a
great splendid house, with soldiers standing before the gates.
This he knew must be the King's palace, and he determined to hop
up to the front gate and wait there until the King came out. But
as he was hopping past one of the back windows the King's cook
'Here is the very thing I want,' he exclaimed, 'for the King has
just sent a message to say that he must have chicken broth for
his dinner,' and opening the window he stretched out his arm,
caught Medio Pollito, and popped him into the broth-pot that was
standing near the fire. Oh! how wet and clammy the water felt as
it went over Medio Pollito's head, making his feathers cling to
'Water, water!' he cried in his despair, 'do have pity upon me
and do not wet me like this.'
'Ah! Medio Pollito,' replied the water, 'you would not help me
when I was a little stream away on the fields, now you must be
Then the fire began to burn and scald Medio Pollito, and he
danced and hopped from one side of the pot to the other, trying
to get away from the heat, and crying out in pain:
Fire, fire! do not scorch me like this; you can't think how it
'Ah! Medio Pollito,' answered the fire, 'you would not help me
when I was dying away in the wood. You are being punished.'
At last, just when the pain was so great that Medio Pollito
thought he must die, the cook lifted up the lid of the pot to see
if the broth was ready for the King's dinner.
'Look here!' he cried in horror, 'this chicken is quite useless.
It is burnt to a cinder. I can't send it up to the royal table;'
and opening the window he threw Medio Pollito out into the
street. But the wind caught him up, and whirled him through the
air so quickly that Medio Pollito could scarcely breathe, and his
heart beat against his side till he thought it would break.
'Oh, wind!' at last he gasped out, 'if you hurry me along like
this you will kill me. Do let me rest a moment, or--' but he was
so breathless that he could not finish his sentence.
'Ah! Medio Pollito,' replied the wind, 'when I was caught in the
branches of the chestnut tree you would not help me; now you are
punished.' And he swirled Medio Pollito over the roofs of the
houses till they reached the highest church in the town, and
there he left him fastened to the top of the steeple.
And there stands Medio Pollito to this day. And if you go to
Madrid, and walk through the streets till you come to the highest
church, you will see Medio Pollito perched on his one leg on the
steeple, with his one wing drooping at his side, and gazing sadly
out of his one eye over the town.
Next: The Story Of Caliph Stork
Previous: The Blue Bird