JGB GRADE 4 VOLUME 2
Prince Rabbit
By, A. A. Milne
Once upon a time there was a King who had no children. Sometimes he would say to the Queen, “If only we had a son!” and the Queen would answer, “If only we had!” And then on another day he would say, “If only we had a daughter!” and the Queen would sigh and answer, “Yes, even if we had a daughter, that would be something!” But they had no children at all.
As the years went on and there were still no children in the Royal Palace, the people began to ask each other who would be next King to reign over them. And some said that perhaps it would be the Chancellor, which was a pity, as nobody liked him very much; and others said that there would be a satisfactory ending of the matter; but those who were higher up felt that, though in some respects it would be a good thing, yet in other respects it would be an ill-advised state of affairs; and they hoped therefore that a young Prince would be born in the Palace. But no Prince was born.
One day, when the Chancellor was in audience with the King, it seemed well to him to speak what was in the people’s minds.
“Your majesty,’ he said and then stopped, wondering how best to put it.
“Well?” said the King.
“I have Your Majesty’s permission to speak my mind?”
“So far, yes,” said the King.
Encouraged by this, the Chancellor resolved to put the matter plainly.
“In the event of Your Majesty’s death…” He coughed and began again,
“If Your Majesty ever should die,” he said, “which in any case will not be for many years-if ever- as, I nee hardly say, Your Majesty’s loyal subjects earnestly hope-I mean they hope it will be never. But assuming for the moment –making the sad assumption-“
“You said you wanted to speak your mind,” interrupted the King. ”Is this it?” “Yes, Your Majesty.” “Then I don’t think much of it.” ”Thank you your Majesty.”
“What you are trying to say is, ‘Who will be the next King?
“Quite so, Your Majesty.”
“Ah!” The King was silent for a little. Then he said, “ I can tell you who won’t be.”
The Chancellor did not seek for information on this point, feeling that in the circumstances the answer was obvious.
“What do you suggest yourself?”
“That your Majesty choose a successor from among the young and the highly-born of the country, putting him to whatever test seems good to your Majesty.”
The King pulled at his beard and frowned.
“There must be not one test, but many tests. Let all, who will offer themselves, provided only that they were are under the age of twenty and are wellborn. See to it.”
He waved his hand on dismissal, and with an accuracy established by long practice the chancellor retired backwards out of the Palace.
On the following morning, therefore, it was announced that all those who were ambitious to be appointed the King’s successor, and who were of high birth and not yet come to the age of twenty, should present themselves a week later for the tests to which was to be running race. Whereat the people rejoiced, for they wished to be ruled by one to whom they could look up, and running was much esteemed in that country.
On the appointed day the excitement was great. All along the course, which was once round the Palace, large crowds were massed, and at the finishing point the King and Queen themselves were seated in a specially erected Pavilion. And to this Pavilion the competitors were brought to be introduced to Their Majesties. And there were nine young nobles, well built and handsome, and (it was thought) intelligent, who were competitors. And there was also one rabbit.
The Chancellor had first noticed the Rabbit when he was lining up the competitors, pinning numbers on their backs so that the people should identify them, and giving them such instructions as seemed necessary to him.
“Now, now, be off with you,” he had said.“ Competitors only, this way.” And he had made a motion of impatient dismissal with his foot.
“ I am a competitor,” said the Rabbit. “ And I don’t think it is usual,” he added with dignity, “ for the starter to kick on of the competitors just at the beginning of an important footrace. It looks like favoritism.”
“You can’t be a competitor,” laughed all the young nobles.
“Why not? Read the rules.”
The Chancellor, feeling rather hot suddenly, read the rules. The Rabbit was certainly under twenty; he had a pedigree which showed that he was of the highest birth; and-
“ And,” said the Rabbit, “ I am ambitious to be appointed the King’s successor. Those were all the conditions. Now let’s get on with the race.”
But first came the introduction to the King. One by one the competitors came up . . . and at the end-
“ This,” said the Chancellor, as airily as he could, “is Rabbit.” Rabbit bowed in the most graceful manner possible, first to the King and then to the Queen. But the King only stared at him. Then he turned to the Chancellor.
“Well?”
The Chancellor shrugged his shoulders.
“ His entry does not appear to lack validity,” he said. “ He means, Your Majesty, that it is all right,” explained Rabbit.
The King laughed suddenly. “ Go on,” he said. “ We can always have a race for a new Chancellor afterwards.”
So the race was started. And the young Lord Calomel was much cheered on coming in second, not only by Their Majesties, but also by Rabbit, who had finished the course some time before and was now lounging in the Royal Pavilion.
“ A very good style, Your Majesty,” said Rabbit turning to the King. “Altogether he seems to be a most promising youth.”
“Most,” said the King grimly. “So much so that I do not propose to trouble the rest of the competitors. The next test shall take place between you and him.”
“Not racing again, please, Your Majesty. That would hardly be fair to his Lordship.”
“No, not racing. Fighting.”
“Ah! What sort of fighting?”
“With swords,” said the King.
“I am a little rusty with swords, but I daresay in a day or two-”
“It will be now,” said the King.
“You mean, Your Majesty, as soon as Lord Calomel has recovered his breath?”
The King answered nothing, but turned to his Chancellor.
“Tell the young Lord Calomel that in half an hour I desire him to fight with this Rabbit-”
“The young Lord Rabbit,” murmured the other competitor to the Chancellor.
“To fight with him for my Kingdom.”
“And borrow me a sword, will you?” said Rabbit.
“Quite a small one. I don’t want to hurt him.”
So, half an hour later, on a level patch of grass in front of the Pavilion, the fight began. It was a short but exciting struggle. Calomel, whirling his long sword in his strong right arm, dashed upon Rabbit, and Rabbit, carrying his short sword in this teeth, dodged between Calomel’s legs and brought him toppling. And when it was seen that the young Lord rose from the ground with a broken arm, and that with the utmost gallantry he had now taken his sword in his left hand, the people cheered. And Rabbit, dropping his sword for a moment, cheered too. Then he picked it up and got entangled in his adversary’s legs again, so that again the young Lord Calomel crashed to the ground, this time with a sprained ankle. And there he lay.
Rabbit trotted to the Royal Pavilion and dropped his sword in the Chancellor’s lap.
“Thank you so much,” he said. “Have I won?”
And the King frowned and pulled at his beard.
“There are other tests,” he muttered.
But what were they to be? It was plain that Lord Calomel was in no condition for another physical test.
What, then, of an intellectual test?
“After all,” said the King to the Queen that night, “intelligence is a quality not without value to a ruler.”
“Is it?” asked the Queen doubtfully.
“I have found it so,” said the King, a little haughtily.
“Oh,” said the Queen.
“There is a riddle, of which my father was fond, the answer to which has never been revealed save to the Royal House. We might make this the final test between them.”
“What is the riddle?”
“I fancy it goes like this.” He thought for a moment and then recited it, beating time with his hand.
My first I do for your delight.
Although ’tis neither black nor white
My second looks the other way,
Yet always goes to bed by day.
My whole can fly, and climb a tree,
And sometimes swims upon the sea.
“What is the answer?” asked the Queen.
“As far as I remember,” said His Majesty, “it is either ‘dormouse’ or ‘raspberry.’ ”
“ ‘Dormouse’ doesn’t make sense,’ ” pointed objected the Queen.
“ Neither does ‘raspberry,’ ” pointed out the King.
“Then how can they guess it?”
“They can’t. But my idea is that young Calomel should be secretly told beforehand what the answers is, so that he may win the competition.”
“Is that fair?” asked the Queen doubtfully.
“Yes,” said the King. “Certainly, or I wouldn’t have suggested it.”
So it was duly announced by the Chancellor that the final teat between the young Lord Calomel and Rabbit would be the solving of an ancient riddle-me-ree which in the past had baffled all save those of Royal Blood. Copies of the riddle had been sent to the competitors, and in a week from that day they would be called upon to give their answers before Their Majesties and the full Court. And with Lord Calomel’s copy went a message, which said this: “From a friend. The answer is ‘dormouse.’ BURN THIS.”
The day came round, and Calomel and Rabbit were brought before Their Majesties. And they bowed to Their Majesties, and were ordered to be seated, for Calomel’s ankle was still painful to him. And when the Chancellor had called for silence, the King addressed those present, explaining the conditions of the test to them.
“And the answer to the riddle,” he said, “is in this sealed paper which I know hand to my Chancellor, in order that he shall open it as soon as the competitors have told us what they know of the matter.”
The people, being uncertain what else to do, cheered slightly.
“I will ask Lord Calomel first,” His Majesty went on. He looked at his Lordship, and his Lordship nodded slightly. And Rabbit, noticing that nod, smiled suddenly to himself.
“Lord Calomel,” said the King, “what do you consider to be the best answer to this riddle-me-ree?”
The young lord Calomel tried to look very wise, and he said:
“There are many possible answers to this riddle-me-ree, but the best answer seems to me to be ‘dormouse.’ ”
“Let someone take a note of that answer,” said the King, where- upon the Chief Secretary wrote down:
“Lord Calomel- ‘dormouse.’ ”
“Now,” said the King to Rabbit, “what suggestion have you make in this matter?”
Rabbit, who had spent an anxious week inventing answers each more impossible than the last, looked down modestly.
“Well?” said the King.
“Your Majesty,” said the Rabbit with some apparent hesitation, “I have a great respect for the intelligence of the young Lord Calomel, but I think that in this matter he is mistaken. The answer is not, as he suggests, ‘woodlouse,’ but ‘dormouse,’ ”
“I said ‘dormouse,’ ” cried Calomel indignantly.
“I thought you said ‘woodlouse,’ ” said Rabbit in surprise.
By, A. A. Milne
Once upon a time there was a King who had no children. Sometimes he would say to the Queen, “If only we had a son!” and the Queen would answer, “If only we had!” And then on another day he would say, “If only we had a daughter!” and the Queen would sigh and answer, “Yes, even if we had a daughter, that would be something!” But they had no children at all.
As the years went on and there were still no children in the Royal Palace, the people began to ask each other who would be next King to reign over them. And some said that perhaps it would be the Chancellor, which was a pity, as nobody liked him very much; and others said that there would be a satisfactory ending of the matter; but those who were higher up felt that, though in some respects it would be a good thing, yet in other respects it would be an ill-advised state of affairs; and they hoped therefore that a young Prince would be born in the Palace. But no Prince was born.
One day, when the Chancellor was in audience with the King, it seemed well to him to speak what was in the people’s minds.
“Your majesty,’ he said and then stopped, wondering how best to put it.
“Well?” said the King.
“I have Your Majesty’s permission to speak my mind?”
“So far, yes,” said the King.
Encouraged by this, the Chancellor resolved to put the matter plainly.
“In the event of Your Majesty’s death…” He coughed and began again,
“If Your Majesty ever should die,” he said, “which in any case will not be for many years-if ever- as, I nee hardly say, Your Majesty’s loyal subjects earnestly hope-I mean they hope it will be never. But assuming for the moment –making the sad assumption-“
“You said you wanted to speak your mind,” interrupted the King. ”Is this it?” “Yes, Your Majesty.” “Then I don’t think much of it.” ”Thank you your Majesty.”
“What you are trying to say is, ‘Who will be the next King?
“Quite so, Your Majesty.”
“Ah!” The King was silent for a little. Then he said, “ I can tell you who won’t be.”
The Chancellor did not seek for information on this point, feeling that in the circumstances the answer was obvious.
“What do you suggest yourself?”
“That your Majesty choose a successor from among the young and the highly-born of the country, putting him to whatever test seems good to your Majesty.”
The King pulled at his beard and frowned.
“There must be not one test, but many tests. Let all, who will offer themselves, provided only that they were are under the age of twenty and are wellborn. See to it.”
He waved his hand on dismissal, and with an accuracy established by long practice the chancellor retired backwards out of the Palace.
On the following morning, therefore, it was announced that all those who were ambitious to be appointed the King’s successor, and who were of high birth and not yet come to the age of twenty, should present themselves a week later for the tests to which was to be running race. Whereat the people rejoiced, for they wished to be ruled by one to whom they could look up, and running was much esteemed in that country.
On the appointed day the excitement was great. All along the course, which was once round the Palace, large crowds were massed, and at the finishing point the King and Queen themselves were seated in a specially erected Pavilion. And to this Pavilion the competitors were brought to be introduced to Their Majesties. And there were nine young nobles, well built and handsome, and (it was thought) intelligent, who were competitors. And there was also one rabbit.
The Chancellor had first noticed the Rabbit when he was lining up the competitors, pinning numbers on their backs so that the people should identify them, and giving them such instructions as seemed necessary to him.
“Now, now, be off with you,” he had said.“ Competitors only, this way.” And he had made a motion of impatient dismissal with his foot.
“ I am a competitor,” said the Rabbit. “ And I don’t think it is usual,” he added with dignity, “ for the starter to kick on of the competitors just at the beginning of an important footrace. It looks like favoritism.”
“You can’t be a competitor,” laughed all the young nobles.
“Why not? Read the rules.”
The Chancellor, feeling rather hot suddenly, read the rules. The Rabbit was certainly under twenty; he had a pedigree which showed that he was of the highest birth; and-
“ And,” said the Rabbit, “ I am ambitious to be appointed the King’s successor. Those were all the conditions. Now let’s get on with the race.”
But first came the introduction to the King. One by one the competitors came up . . . and at the end-
“ This,” said the Chancellor, as airily as he could, “is Rabbit.” Rabbit bowed in the most graceful manner possible, first to the King and then to the Queen. But the King only stared at him. Then he turned to the Chancellor.
“Well?”
The Chancellor shrugged his shoulders.
“ His entry does not appear to lack validity,” he said. “ He means, Your Majesty, that it is all right,” explained Rabbit.
The King laughed suddenly. “ Go on,” he said. “ We can always have a race for a new Chancellor afterwards.”
So the race was started. And the young Lord Calomel was much cheered on coming in second, not only by Their Majesties, but also by Rabbit, who had finished the course some time before and was now lounging in the Royal Pavilion.
“ A very good style, Your Majesty,” said Rabbit turning to the King. “Altogether he seems to be a most promising youth.”
“Most,” said the King grimly. “So much so that I do not propose to trouble the rest of the competitors. The next test shall take place between you and him.”
“Not racing again, please, Your Majesty. That would hardly be fair to his Lordship.”
“No, not racing. Fighting.”
“Ah! What sort of fighting?”
“With swords,” said the King.
“I am a little rusty with swords, but I daresay in a day or two-”
“It will be now,” said the King.
“You mean, Your Majesty, as soon as Lord Calomel has recovered his breath?”
The King answered nothing, but turned to his Chancellor.
“Tell the young Lord Calomel that in half an hour I desire him to fight with this Rabbit-”
“The young Lord Rabbit,” murmured the other competitor to the Chancellor.
“To fight with him for my Kingdom.”
“And borrow me a sword, will you?” said Rabbit.
“Quite a small one. I don’t want to hurt him.”
So, half an hour later, on a level patch of grass in front of the Pavilion, the fight began. It was a short but exciting struggle. Calomel, whirling his long sword in his strong right arm, dashed upon Rabbit, and Rabbit, carrying his short sword in this teeth, dodged between Calomel’s legs and brought him toppling. And when it was seen that the young Lord rose from the ground with a broken arm, and that with the utmost gallantry he had now taken his sword in his left hand, the people cheered. And Rabbit, dropping his sword for a moment, cheered too. Then he picked it up and got entangled in his adversary’s legs again, so that again the young Lord Calomel crashed to the ground, this time with a sprained ankle. And there he lay.
Rabbit trotted to the Royal Pavilion and dropped his sword in the Chancellor’s lap.
“Thank you so much,” he said. “Have I won?”
And the King frowned and pulled at his beard.
“There are other tests,” he muttered.
But what were they to be? It was plain that Lord Calomel was in no condition for another physical test.
What, then, of an intellectual test?
“After all,” said the King to the Queen that night, “intelligence is a quality not without value to a ruler.”
“Is it?” asked the Queen doubtfully.
“I have found it so,” said the King, a little haughtily.
“Oh,” said the Queen.
“There is a riddle, of which my father was fond, the answer to which has never been revealed save to the Royal House. We might make this the final test between them.”
“What is the riddle?”
“I fancy it goes like this.” He thought for a moment and then recited it, beating time with his hand.
My first I do for your delight.
Although ’tis neither black nor white
My second looks the other way,
Yet always goes to bed by day.
My whole can fly, and climb a tree,
And sometimes swims upon the sea.
“What is the answer?” asked the Queen.
“As far as I remember,” said His Majesty, “it is either ‘dormouse’ or ‘raspberry.’ ”
“ ‘Dormouse’ doesn’t make sense,’ ” pointed objected the Queen.
“ Neither does ‘raspberry,’ ” pointed out the King.
“Then how can they guess it?”
“They can’t. But my idea is that young Calomel should be secretly told beforehand what the answers is, so that he may win the competition.”
“Is that fair?” asked the Queen doubtfully.
“Yes,” said the King. “Certainly, or I wouldn’t have suggested it.”
So it was duly announced by the Chancellor that the final teat between the young Lord Calomel and Rabbit would be the solving of an ancient riddle-me-ree which in the past had baffled all save those of Royal Blood. Copies of the riddle had been sent to the competitors, and in a week from that day they would be called upon to give their answers before Their Majesties and the full Court. And with Lord Calomel’s copy went a message, which said this: “From a friend. The answer is ‘dormouse.’ BURN THIS.”
The day came round, and Calomel and Rabbit were brought before Their Majesties. And they bowed to Their Majesties, and were ordered to be seated, for Calomel’s ankle was still painful to him. And when the Chancellor had called for silence, the King addressed those present, explaining the conditions of the test to them.
“And the answer to the riddle,” he said, “is in this sealed paper which I know hand to my Chancellor, in order that he shall open it as soon as the competitors have told us what they know of the matter.”
The people, being uncertain what else to do, cheered slightly.
“I will ask Lord Calomel first,” His Majesty went on. He looked at his Lordship, and his Lordship nodded slightly. And Rabbit, noticing that nod, smiled suddenly to himself.
“Lord Calomel,” said the King, “what do you consider to be the best answer to this riddle-me-ree?”
The young lord Calomel tried to look very wise, and he said:
“There are many possible answers to this riddle-me-ree, but the best answer seems to me to be ‘dormouse.’ ”
“Let someone take a note of that answer,” said the King, where- upon the Chief Secretary wrote down:
“Lord Calomel- ‘dormouse.’ ”
“Now,” said the King to Rabbit, “what suggestion have you make in this matter?”
Rabbit, who had spent an anxious week inventing answers each more impossible than the last, looked down modestly.
“Well?” said the King.
“Your Majesty,” said the Rabbit with some apparent hesitation, “I have a great respect for the intelligence of the young Lord Calomel, but I think that in this matter he is mistaken. The answer is not, as he suggests, ‘woodlouse,’ but ‘dormouse,’ ”
“I said ‘dormouse,’ ” cried Calomel indignantly.
“I thought you said ‘woodlouse,’ ” said Rabbit in surprise.
The Goldfish
There was once a Goldfish who lived in the sea in the days when all the fishes lived there. He was perfectly happily and had only one care, and that was to avoid the net that floated about in the water, now here, now there. But all the fish had been warned by King Neptune, their father, to avoid the net, and in those days they did as they were bid. So the Goldfish enjoyed a glorious life, swimming for days and days in the blue and green water: sometimes low down close to the sand and shells and pearls and coral, and the big rocks where the anemones grew like clusters of gay flowers, and the seaweed waved in frills and fans of red and green and yellow; and sometimes he swam up high up near the surface of the sea, where the white cap chased each other, and the great waves rose like mountains of glass and tumbled over themselves with a crash.
When the Goldfish was near the top as this, he sometimes saw swimming in the bright blue water far, above him a great Gold Fish, as golden as himself, but as round as a jellyfish. And at other times, when the distant water was blue instead of bright, a Silver Fish such as he had never met under the sea, and she to was often round in shape, though at times, when she seemed to swim sideways through the water, he could see he pointed silver fins.
Our Goldfish felt a certain jealousy of the other Gold Fish, but with the Silver Fish he fell in love at sight, and longed to be able to swim up to her. Whenever he tried to do this, something queer happened that made him lose his breath; and with a gasp he sank down into the ocean, so deep that he could see the Silver Fish no longer. Then, hoping she might descend to swim in his own water, he swam for miles and miles in search of her; but he never had the luck to find her.
One night as he was swimming about in very calm water, he saw overhead the motionless shadow of an enormous fish. One great long fin ran under its belly in the water, but all the rest of it was raised above the surface. The Goldfish knew every fish in the sea, but he had never before seen such a fish as this! It was bigger than the whale and as black as the ink of the Octopus. He swam all around it, touching it with his inquisitive little nose. At last he asked, “What sort of fish are you?”
The big black shadow laughed. ‘I am not a fish at all, I am a ship.’’
What are you doing here if you are not a fish?”
“Just at present I am becalmed. But when the wind blows I shall go on sailing round the world.”
“What is the world?”
“All that you see and more.”
“Am I in the world, then?” asked the Goldfish.
“Certainly you are.”
The Goldfish gave a little jump of delight. “Good news! Good news!” he cried.
A passing Porpoise paused to ask, “What are you shouting for?”
Because I am in the world!”
“Who says so?”
“The Ship-Fish!” said the Goldfish.
“Pooh!” said the Porpoise, “let him prove it!” and passed on.
The Goldfish stopped jumping, because his joy had been damped by doubt. “How can the world be more than I can see?” he asked the Ship. “If I am really in the world I ought to be able to see it all-or how can I be sure?”
“You must take my word for it,” said the Ship. “A tiny fellow like you can never hope to see more than a scrap of the world. The world has a rim you can never see over; the world has a foreign lands full of wonders that you can never look upon; the world is as round as an orange, but you will never see how round the world is.”
Then the ship went on to tell of parts of the world that lay beyond the rim of things, of men and women and children