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Fairy Tales from Brazil by Elsie Spicer Eells

FAIRY TALES FROM BRAZIL

How and Why Tales from Brazilian Folk-Lore

by

ELSIE SPICER EELLS

With Illustrations by Helen M. Barton

This special edition is published by arrangement with the publisher of the regular edition, Dodd, Mead & Company.

Cadmus Books E. M. Hale and Company Chicago

Copyright, 1917, by Dodd, Mead and Company, Inc.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

Thanks are due to the publishers of _Little Folks_, _Kindergarten-Primary Magazine_, _Everyland_, _Mayflower and Story Tellers' Magazine_ for the privilege of reprinting stories which they have published.

ELSIE SPICER EELLS

* * * * *

PREFACE

It is late afternoon in my Brazilian garden. The dazzling blue of sea and sky which characterises a tropical noonday has become subdued and already roseate tints are beginning to prepare the glory of the sunset hour. A lizard crawls lazily up the whitewashed wall. The song of the _sabia_, that wonderful Brazilian thrush, sounds from the royal palm tree. The air is heavy with the perfume of the orange blossom. There is no long twilight in the tropics. Night will leap down suddenly upon my Brazilian garden from out of the glory of the sunset sky.

Theresa, the _ama_, stands before us on the terrace under the mango trees, and we, her _yayazinhas_ and _yoyozinhos_, know that the story hour has come. Theresa, daughter of the mud huts under the palm trees, _ama_ in the _sobrado_ of the foreign _senhora_, is a royal queen of story land. For her the beasts break silence and talk like humans. For her all the magic wonders of her tales stand forth as living truth. Her lithe body sways backwards and forwards to the rhythm of her words as she unfolds her tales to us. She is a picture to remember as she stands under the mango trees on our terrace. Her spotless white "_camiza_" is decorated with beautiful pillow lace, her own handiwork. Her skirt of stiffly starched cotton is red and purple in colour. A crimson flowered folded shawl hangs over her right shoulder and great strings of beads ornament the ebony of her neck and arms. To sit at the feet of Theresa, the _ama_, is to enter the gate of story land.

CONTENTS

PREFACE

I. HOW NIGHT CAME

II. HOW THE RABBIT LOST HIS TAIL

III. HOW THE TOAD GOT HIS BRUISES

IV. HOW THE TIGER GOT HIS STRIPES

V. WHY THE LAMB IS MEEK

VI. WHY THE TIGER AND THE STAG FEAR EACH OTHER

VII. HOW THE SPECKLED HEN GOT HER SPECKLES

VIII. HOW THE MONKEY BECAME A TRICKSTER

IX. HOW THE MONKEY AND THE GOAT EARNED THEIR REPUTATIONS

X. HOW THE MONKEY GOT A DRINK WHEN HE WAS THIRSTY

XI. HOW THE MONKEY GOT FOOD WHEN HE WAS HUNGRY


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