singing to him as she had
sung when she gave him the shell, and though the notes sounded faint
at first, they swelled louder and louder till the mist which had
gathered about him was blown away.

Then he raised his head, feeling that he had been through strange
places, where he could never wander any more; and he held himself
erect and strong, and looked about him. Nothing was to be seen but the
shining of the river, and the dark shadows of the trees; nothing was
to be heard but the hum of the insects, as they darted through the
night.

[Adapted from _Folklore Bresilien_.]

_THE CUNNING HARE_

In a very cold country, far across the seas, where ice and snow cover
the ground for many months in the year, there lived a little hare,
who, as his father and mother were both dead, was brought up by his
grandmother. As he was too young, and she was too old, to work, they
were very poor, and often did not have enough to eat.

One day, when the little fellow was hungrier than usual, he asked his
grandmother if he might not go down to the river and catch a fish for
their breakfast, as the thaw had come and the water was flowing freely
again. She laughed at him for thinking that any fish would let itself
be caught by a hare, especially such a young one; but as she had the
rheumatism very badly, and could get no food herself, she let him go.
'If he does not catch a fish he may find something else,' she said to
herself. So she told her grandson where to look for the net, and how
he was to set it across the river; but just as he was starting,
feeling himself quite a man, she called him back.

'After all, I don't know what is the use of your going, my boy! For
even if you should catch a fish, I have no fire to cook it with.'

'Let me catch my fish, and I will soon make you a fire,' he answered
gaily, for he was young, and knew nothing about the difficulties of
fire-making.

It took him some time to haul the net through bushes and over fields,
but at length he reached a pool in the river which he had often heard
was swarming with fish, and here he set the net, as his grandmother
had directed him.

[Illustration: THE LITTLE HARE IS CAUGHT]

He was so excited that he hardly slept all night, and at the very
first streak of dawn he ran as fast as ever he could down to the
river. His heart beat as quickly as if he had had dogs behind him, and
he hardly dared to look, lest he should be disappointed. Would there
be even