naughty
song that made game of the storks."

"But the very naughty boy who was the first to begin the song," cried
the young storks, "what shall we do with him?"

"There is a little dead child in the pond--one that has dreamed itself
to death. We will bring that for him. Then he will cry because we have
brought a little dead brother to him.

"But that good boy,--you have not forgotten him!--the one who said it
was a shame to mock at the animals; for him we will bring both a brother
and a sister. And because his name is Peter, all of you shall be called
Peter, too."

All was done as the mother had said; the storks were named Peter, and so
they are called to this day.

[Illustration]

THE WILD SWANS

FAR away, in the land to which the swallows fly when it is winter, dwelt
a king who had eleven sons, and one daughter, named Eliza.

The eleven brothers were princes, and each went to school with a star on
his breast and a sword by his side. They wrote with diamond pencils on
golden slates and learned their lessons so quickly and read so easily
that every one knew they were princes. Their sister Eliza sat on a
little stool of plate-glass and had a book full of pictures, which had
cost as much as half a kingdom.

Happy, indeed, were these children; but they were not long to remain so,
for their father, the king, married a queen who did not love the
children, and who proved to be a wicked sorceress.

The queen began to show her unkindness the very first day. While the
great festivities were taking place in the palace, the children played
at receiving company; but the queen, instead of sending them the cakes
and apples that were left from the feast, as was customary, gave them
some sand in a teacup and told them to pretend it was something good.
The next week she sent the little Eliza into the country to a peasant
and his wife. Then she told the king so many untrue things about the
young princes that he gave himself no more trouble about them.

"Go out into the world and look after yourselves," said the queen. "Fly
like great birds without a voice." But she could not make it so bad for
them as she would have liked, for they were turned into eleven beautiful
wild swans.

With a strange cry, they flew through the windows of the palace, over
the park, to the forest beyond. It was yet early morning when they
passed the peasant's cottage where their sister lay asleep in her room.
They hovered over the r