Preview Mode Links will not work in preview mode

The Folktale Project

Jun 30, 2017

There lived in the village of Miano a man and his wife, who had no children whatever, and they longed with the greatest eagerness to have an heir. The woman, above all, was for ever saying, "O heavens! if I might but have a little baby--I should not care, were it even a sprig of a myrtle." And she repeated this song so...


Jun 29, 2017

In a tiny house in the North Countrie, far away from any town or village, there lived not long ago a poor widow all alone with her little son, a six-year-old boy.

The house-door opened straight on to the hillside and all round about were moorlands and huge stones, and swampy hollows; never a house nor a sign of life...


Jun 28, 2017

Long ago, in my grandmother's time, the Carland was all in bogs, great pools of black water, and creeping trickles of green water, and squishy mools which squirted when you stepped on them.

Well, granny used to say how long before her time the Moon herself was once dead and buried in the marshes, and as she used to tell...


Jun 27, 2017

In ancient times a giant was wandering along the highway when suddenly a stranger jumped toward him and shouted, "Stop! Not one step further!"

"What?" said the giant. "You, a creature that I could crush between my fingers, you want to block my way? Who are you that you dare to speak so boldly?"

"I am Death," answered...


Jun 26, 2017

The Tory Manheim sits brooding in his farmhouse near Valley Forge, and his daughter, with a hectic flush on her cheek, looks out into the twilight at the falling snow. She is worn and ill; she has brought on a fever by exposure incurred that very day in a secret journey to the American camp, made to warn her lover...