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14

Classic Tales to Read, Love and Share

TM

Storytime

PUMPKIN JACK The perfect poem for Halloween!

HEIDI A little girl makes

friends on the mountain

The Boy Who Cried Wolf, The Fire Fairy, a Greek Myth, Weird Witches & Puzzles!

Puss in Boots

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Jacqueline Harris is our education

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expert with over 25 years’ experience

in developing literacy skills in children.

ILLUSTRATORS: George Ermos The Boy Who Cried Wolf

Isabella Grott The Fire Fairy

Gaby Zermeño Pumpkin Jack

Ana Varela Atlanta and the Golden Apples

Melanie Matthews Puss in Boots

Marine Gosselin The Witches of Tibet

Gaia Bordicchia Heidi

Let’s get spooky!

In this magical issue, we’ve got lions galore,

a fabulous fire fairy, a shape-changing ogre, a

Halloween pumpkin and witches with backwards feet!

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The Boy Who Cried Wolf

A lfie was a shepherd boy and it was his job, come rain

or shine, to look after the sheep that belonged to his

neighbours in the village.

6

“Wolf! Wolf!

One sunny day, he was sitting on the hillside watching the sheep, when

he started to think about the younger children playing in the village.

How he wished he could join them! Just remembering the fun he used

to have made Alfie grow tired of his woolly companions. He was bored

with watching the clouds float by and he’d climbed every tree.

Help!”

Famous Fables

“I wish something exciting would happen,” he sighed. And then he had an idea

– an idea filled with mischief.

Suddenly, Alfie shouted, “Wolf! Wolf! There is a wolf chasing the sheep!”

His cries were so loud, everyone in the village heard him, and they all came

rushing up the hill with their axes to help drive the wolf away. But when they

got there, there was no wolf to be found and the sheep were lazily grazing on

the grass, with not a care in the world. The boy chuckled to himself at the clever

joke he had played on everyone.

“Tricked you!” he laughed, but the villagers weren’t amused.

“What a foolish thing to do,” they complained. “Never cry wolf

unless there is a truly a wolf to fear, Alfie.” Then they went back

to their business, leaving Alfie grinning on the hillside.

A few days later, Alfie was on the hillside and growing restless

again – he had run out of ways to amuse himself.

“Time for a little more naughtiness,” he thought, and he

shouted, “Wolf! Wolf! Help! It’s attacking the sheep!”

7

In this story, Alfie lies to the

villagers because he is bored.

Can you think of five boredom-

busting things Alfie could do

on the hillside to make his

days more fun? How would

you entertain yourself

if you were Alfie?

Talk About It!

When the villagers heard his cries, they

dashed up the hillside to protect their

flock. But when they got there, there

was not a wolf in sight!

“Tricked you again!” he giggled.

“Alfie!” scolded one of the villagers.

“This isn’t funny! You must never cry

wolf unless there is truly a wolf!”

Feeling thoroughly cross with Alfie,

they all headed back to the village,

but he just shrugged – a little bit of

mischief made his day less boring.

The next day, Alfie was on the hillside

keeping an eye on the sheep, when

he heard a rustle in the bushes.

The sheep started to bleat nervously

and dart about, and a dark muzzle

poked through the branches, baring

sharp white teeth. It was followed by

the bright flash of yellow eyes – they

belonged to a wolf and it was about

to pounce on his sheep! Alfie was so

scared, he ran into the bushes to hide.

“WOLF! WOLF!” he shouted, as the

sheep scattered everywhere.

“WOLF! WOLF!” he shouted, as the

wolf snapped at their tails. “Help! It’s

attacking the sheep!”

But, this time, when the villagers heard

Alfie’s cries, they just rolled their eyes

and thought, “Oh, that’s just Alfie, up to

his old tricks again. He won’t fool us

The famous phrase “to

cry wolf” comes from this

story and means to raise

the alarm or ask for

help when you

don’t need it.

Did You Know?

9

this time!” And everybody ignored

him and went about their business.

Later that day, just as the sun was

setting, the villagers realised that

Alfie hadn’t yet returned with their

sheep. A few of them wandered up

the hillside to see why he was late,

but when they got there, all they

found were a few wispy strands

of wool stuck to the thorny bushes.

“Alfie! Where are you?” they shouted.

The bushes parted and out stepped

Alfie, still shaking with fear.

“There really was a wolf this time,” he

sobbed. “Why did nobody help me?”

“Because we didn’t believe you!”

explained the eldest villager. “You

tricked us twice before, and it’s hard

to know when a liar is telling the truth.”

So, Alfie learnt his lesson the hard

way – nobody believes a liar, even

if he is almost in the jaws of a wolf!

Atlanta and the Golden Apples

L ong ago in Ancient Greece, a king

called Iasus longed for a son to

inherit his throne, so when the queen

had a baby girl, the disappointed king

took the poor baby away and

left it in the wilderness.

Myths and Legends

The baby, whose name was Atlanta,

was found by a mother bear, who

took pity on her and raised her with

her own cubs until, one day, a kind

hunter came by. Thinking Atlanta

was all alone, the hunter took her

to his home. He taught Atlanta the

skills she needed to survive in the

wild and, with his help, she grew

up to be a great hunter – she was

fearless, strong, fast and highly

skilled with a bow.

Atlanta’s skills were soon noticed

by Artemis, the goddess of the wild.

Artemis and Atlanta became good

11

friends, and Artemis warned Atlanta

that she should never marry, or she

would lose her incredible powers.

Artemis wasn’t the only one who had

heard of Atlanta – when stories spread

of the young woman’s courage and

strength, she was challenged to fights,

invited on perilous voyages and asked

to hunt a giant boar that terrorised the

land. She succeeded in everything she

tried her hand at and, when King Iasus

learnt of her story, he soon realised

that this incredible woman must be

the daughter he had left in the wild.

Accepting that Atlanta was as brave

as any son and feeling great regret,

he invited her to return home and

begged for her forgiveness. Atlanta

agreed, but she hadn’t been reunited

with her family for very long, when her

father began to nag her to get married.

Atlanta was happy as she was and,

remembering Artemis’s warning, she

made a deal with him.

“Father, I will only marry the man who

can beat me in a race, and anyone

who fails must be thrown into prison.”

Atlanta was certain that no man would

be foolish enough to risk jail for her,

but she hadn’t realised how widely

she was admired. As soon as people

heard of Atlanta’s challenge, men

were queuing up to race against her.

Of course, Atlanta won every race

with ease, because she was one

of the fastest humans on the planet.

Just as Atlanta was reaching the point

when she could bear to race no more,

a young man called Melanion came

forward and requested a race. He

was handsome and witty, and

he had fallen in love with Atlanta.

When Atlanta met him, she liked

him so much that she didn’t want to

race him, but she had no choice but

to accept his challenge. A date was

set for their contest.

Desperate to marry Atlanta, Melanion

prayed at the temple of Aphrodite

– the goddess of love – and begged

for her help in winning the race. The

goddess Aphrodite had long wished

12

19

that headstrong Atlanta would find

love, so she took pity on Melanion.

She appeared before him and offered

him a gift of three golden apples –

each one was enchanted.

“Throw these down as you race with

Atlanta and she will run after them. If

you are quick, you will be able to get

ahead of her. If you succeed, you must

bring me a gift to thank me.”

Melanion thanked Aphrodite and

vowed he would return to her temple.

On the day of the

race, he concealed

the apples inside his tunic.

When the contest began, Atlanta

gracefully powered ahead, but they

hadn’t gone far when Melanion threw

a golden apple ahead of her. Atlanta

saw a glint of gold from the corner of

her eye and, wondering what it could

be, she ran over to it. It was a thing of

great beauty but, as she grabbed the

golden apple, Melanion caught up

with her and flashed a smile at her.

13

Make your own golden apple

prop for this story by spearing

an apple with a skewer and

dipping it in gold paint. While

it’s wet, sprinkle it with gold

glitter for extra sparkle and

let it dry! Remember: this

apple is not for eating.

Make It!

Alarmed at his speed, Atlanta raced

alongside him and soon overtook him

again. Just as she did so, Melanion

threw down a second apple. Atlanta

saw the flash of gold whoosh by and,

though she knew it must be another

golden apple, she found herself

unable to resist it. She ran over to it,

and Melanion bolted into the lead.

Atlanta dashed back onto the track

and gave chase again, but just as

she drew level with Melanion and

as the finish line came into sight,

Melanion hurled down the third

and final golden apple.

Atlanta roared with frustration, as she

couldn’t control her desire to pick it up.

She sprinted over to the magic apple

and grabbed it, but as she stood up to

race again, Melanion crossed the finish

line. Proud Atlanta had lost the race.

Atlanta and Melanion were married

a week later. Despite the fact that

Atlanta had never wanted to marry,

15

they made a fine couple and were happy

together – so happy, in fact, that Melanion

completely forgot to bring the gift of thanks

he had promised to the goddess Aphrodite.

He soon discovered that it isn’t wise to offend

the gods. One day, when he and Atlanta were

out walking, an angry Aphrodite appeared

before the happy couple and turned them both

into lions. Atlanta and Melanion were forced to

flee into the wild, where they hunted together

for the rest of their lives.

Atlanta was an awesome

hunter, but she was also

famous for beating a great

Greek warrior in a wrestling

match, and for being the only

woman allowed to sail with

the famous adventuring

Argonauts!

The Fire FairyDeep in the countryside, in the far north of England, there lived

a young widow with her playful six-year-old son.

All around their house, there was nothing but hills and moors, and not another

soul in sight. Though the widow was sometimes lonely, she kept herself busy

looking after their sheep and tending their vegetable patch, and she entertained

her son with stories about the fairies and will o’ the wisps who were said to live

in the nearby glen.

Though the widow loved their home during the day, she had always been afraid

of the dark, so as soon as the sun started to set, she lit a roaring fire and tucked

herself up in bed, where she could hide under the covers if she got scared.

16

Storyteller’s Corner

Her son, however, hated going to bed

early and was not at all afraid of the

dark. He liked sitting by the window,

looking into the black night, watching

mysterious lights flicker across the

moors. His mother would nag him to

go to bed, but he got so fidgety, he

couldn’t fall asleep.

One night, when the wind was rattling

at the door, his mother urged him to

get into bed and stay there.

“There’s nowt but mischief and magic

on nights like this. The fairies will take

you away!” she warned him.

But the boy would not listen. He sat

on his little stool by the fire, and his

mother went to bed in despair.

Not long after she had fallen asleep,

the boy heard a sound coming from

the chimney, like a bird fluttering its

wings. Suddenly, a tiny girl dropped

down and landed right beside him.

She had bright pink hair, sparkling

green eyes, sweet rosy cheeks and

pearly little wings.

17

The boy jumped up off his stool in

surprise. “And who might you be?”

he asked his unexpected visitor.

“My own self,” said the little fairy in a

jingly voice and she gave a cheeky

smile. “And who are you?”

Not knowing what to answer, the boy

mumbled, “My own self too.”

The fairy laughed and she and the

boy started to play together. First,

she used her magic to make the

flames of the fire change into all

the colours of the rainbow, then she

gathered the ashes into a pile and

turned them into a white horse that

pranced round the room, then an oak

tree swaying in the breeze, and then

dolphins diving through the waves!

She even turned the ashes into tiny

people who could walk and talk.

The boy’s eyes were wide with delight

at the fairy’s wonderful magic!

Then the fairy breathed on the

ashes and they swirled all around

her, like a tornado. The boy leant

forward to stoke the dwindling fire so

that he could see her better but, as he

did so, a hot cinder jumped out of the

fire and landed on the little fairy’s foot.

“Yoww!” squealed the fairy in such a

high-pitched screech that the boy

covered his ears in horror. The scream

went on for so long, the boy feared

that it would wake his mother and he

would get into terrible trouble.

Soon he heard another loud flutter

in the chimney and it scared him so

much, he sprinted across the room

and dived under his bed-covers.

Peeping out, he saw an older fairy

with flame-red hair drop onto the

hearth in front of the fire.

“Who is making such a racket, and

what is all the fuss about?”

“It’s my own self, Mother!” wept the

fairy girl. “My foot is burnt and it hurts!”

“Who did this to you?” said the fairy

mother, looking quite angry.

“Why, it was my own self too!” sobbed

the little fairy.

19

“Your own self, you say? Well, if you did it to yourself, let’s hope you’ve learnt

your lesson!” said the fairy mother and, with that, she took her little fairy girl by

the hand and whisked her up the chimney.

The boy sighed with relief, but that night he barely slept a wink, worrying that the

fairy mother would come back and tell him off. And the following night, when his

mother told him to go to bed early, he didn’t argue at all – much to his mother’s

surprise, he was under his blankets in the blink of an eye.

Playing with fairies, he had discovered, was a great deal of fun, but playing with

fire causes nothing but trouble.

20

Do you think the fairy’s

real name was My Own

Self? What name would

you give her? Give the

boy a name too!

Name It!

Puss in BootsOnce upon a time, a poor miller died, leaving his three sons

only a mill, a donkey and a cat between them.

The eldest brother took charge of the inheritance and gave himself the mill,

the donkey went to the middle brother, and the youngest brother got the cat.

The brothers went their separate ways, and the younger one moaned, “Oh, it’s

all very well for them – they can make a fine living with a mill and a donkey,

but what am I to do with this cat? Even if I eat it and use its fur to make a hat,

I’ll still starve in the long run.”

The cat heard every word the brother said and, alarmed at the thought of being

his dinner, it said, “Don’t worry, master. Give me a bag and a pair of boots and

I promise that I will help to improve your fortunes.”

Favourite Fairy Tales

21

The brother was taken aback by his

talking cat. However, he had seen him

show great cunning when catching

mice, so he spent his last few pennies

on the items the cat had asked for.

Later that day, the cat slung his new

bag over his shoulder, pulled on his

new boots and purred with delight.

Then he put some vegetables in the

bag and said, “Leave things with me,

master.” And off he strolled to the

nearest meadow.

The brother watched the cat open the

bag, then lie next to it and play dead.

Before long, two large rabbits hopped

up to the bag, sniffed at it and crawled

inside. The cat leapt up and closed

the bag with the rabbits still in it.

He gave one rabbit to the brother, then

set off for the palace, where he asked

to see the king. Impressed by Puss in

Boots, the guards led him to the king’s

private quarters, where the cat bowed

low to the king and announced, “Your

Majesty, I present to you a fine rabbit

from my noble Master of Carabas.”

22

Amused by the sight of this cat in

boots, the king said, “You may tell

your master that I am most thankful.”

The next day, the cat returned to the

meadow with his bag filled with grain.

He played dead next to the bag and

a pair of fat pheasants waddled into

it. Again, he gave one pheasant to his

master and presented the other to

the king as a gift from his Master.

This went on for a couple of months,

until everyone at the palace got to

know Puss in Boots well – and the

king started to wonder who was this

most generous Master of Carabas.

On one visit to the palace, Puss in

Boots discovered that the king and his

daughter would be taking a long drive

along the river the next day.

He darted home and said, “Tomorrow,

master, you must bathe in the river.

Do as I say and your fortune is made!”

The next day, the brother did as the

cat told him and was bathing in the

river, when he spotted the king’s

carriage approaching and heard

Puss in Boots cry, “Help! Help! The

Master of Carabas is drowning!”

When the king recognised Puss in

Boots, he commanded his guards to

pull over and help. As they dragged

the brother from the river, the cat

explained that a group of fiendish

bandits had robbed his master of his

clothes and thrown him in the river.

The king instructed his guards to

fetch a fine suit for the Master of

Carabas. Soon, the brother looked

every bit a noble lord. In fact, he

looked so regal, the princess fell

quite in love with him.

Intrigued to meet the man who had

sent him so many generous gifts, the

king invited the Master of Carabas to

ride with them in his carriage. Puss in

Boots winked, so the brother knew to

play along with it.

As he chatted with the king and the

princess, Puss in Boots ran on ahead.

He soon met some farmers mowing

a field. “The king is coming,” the cat

said. “When he asks who this field

belongs to, you must tell him it is

owned by the Master of Carabas –

or you will be put to death!”

So when the king passed by and

asked who owned the field, the

frightened farmers all chimed, “The

Master of Carabas, Your Majesty.”

The brother smiled at Puss in Boots’

cleverness and said, “Yes, this field

always gives me a plentiful harvest.”

Puss in Boots ran on ahead again to

a field of reapers. “When the king

comes by,” he warned them, “you

must tell him that this field belongs

to the Master of Carabas – or you

will be put to death!”

24

So when the king reached the field

and asked who owned it, the reapers

answered without hesitation, “The

Master of Carabas, Your Majesty.”

The king congratulated the brother

on such a fine harvest, and the brother

nodded and smiled with pleasure.

And so this went on. As the journey

continued, the cat ran ahead to make

sure that every worker they passed

claimed to work for the Master of

Carabas. The king, of course, was

hugely impressed.

Puss in Boots ran on ahead until he

reached a grand castle. This castle

was owned by a rich but cruel ogre,

who had the power to change into

any shape he liked – and Puss knew

that all the land the king had passed

through belonged to this ogre.

Puss in Boots asked the castle guards

if he may have the honour of paying

his respects to the great ogre. Deeply

flattered to receive such a message

– for the ogre was terribly vain – he

welcomed the cat into his throne room

and invited him to take a seat.

The cat flattered the ogre with many

compliments, then said, “I have heard

that you can change into any creature

you wish, but I find it hard to believe. I

have heard, for instance, that you can

change into an elephant or a lion.”

“It is true!” boasted the ogre. “I can

show you my powers right now!” And,

in an instant, he changed into a lion

and let out a mighty roar.

25

Can you spot this little

mouse hiding in our

pictures? Tick this

box when you find it!

Find It!

Draw It! What did the ogre look like before he changed into a lion? Draw him here!

“Now do you believe

me, little Puss?”

The cat was truly terrified and jumped

onto the table, his fur standing on end.

The ogre changed back into his

normal shape and laughed at the cat.

“Impressive!” said Puss in Boots, trying

to calm himself. “But an ogre of your

size must find it impossible to change

into a small animal, like a mouse.”

“Impossible?” said the ogre. “I don’t

think so!” And in a flash, he turned

into a tiny mouse and scurried across

the floor. Wasting no time, Puss in

Boots leapt on the mouse and killed

it, putting an end to the ogre forever.

Just then, the king’s carriage pulled up

outside the castle. Impressed by its

size and grandeur, the king decided

to pay its owner a visit.

When the cat heard the carriage on

the drawbridge, he dashed outside

to greet the king and princess.

“We are delighted to welcome you to

the home of my Master of Carabas!”

The king was astonished, as was the

brother, who did his best to hide his

surprise. Still pretending he was the

Master of Carabas, he smiled at the

king and led the princess into the

great hall, where a magnificent feast

lay before them. The feast was the

ogre’s lunch but, as the ogre was no

more, they dined together in style.

By the end of their feast, the king was

so charmed by the Master of Carabas,

he suggested that he should marry

the princess. The brother and the

princess both thought this was a

wonderful idea.

After their wedding, they made the

ogre’s castle their home, and Puss in

Boots spent his days curled up on a

velvet cushion, lapping cream. His

promise fulfilled, the clever cat never

again did a day’s work.

Pumpkin Jack

30

“When I grow up,” said Pumpkin Jack,

“They won’t make soup of me,

Or squash me up into a pie,

And eat me for their tea!”

“Iwant two eyes,” said Pumpkin Jack.

“I want a toothy smile.

I want my own triangle nose –

The latest pumpkin style!”

Can you carve a baby

pumpkin that looks

like Pumpkin Jack this

Halloween? Get together

with friends and see

who can carve the

cutest pumpkin!

Carve It!

Poems and Rhymes

31

“I n time for Halloween!” said Jack,

“To see the witches meet

With black cats, spiders, wizards, bats –

Ready for trick or treat!”

“I’ll light their way,” said Pumpkin Jack.

“I’ll keep them safe all night.

I’ll grin at little ghosts and ghouls,

My candle will burn bright.”

“Nothing to fear,” said Pumpkin Jack,

“When my light is a-glow,

I’ll be your Jack-O-Lantern friend,

But first... I need to grow!”

The Witches of Tibet

Everyone in Kathmandu admired Singha Sartha Aju. He was

the first merchant courageous enough to travel over the tall

and treacherous Himalayan mountains to travel to Tibet.

32

Around the World Tales

He left with carpets, statues and hats,

and returned with gold dust, silks and

wool. His journey was such a success

that it was arranged for him to go again

– this time leading a caravan of yaks,

loaded with goods to trade. Each yak

was looked after by a trader, hoping

to make his fortune in Tibet.

Singha Sartha Aju led the way, but the

journey over the mountain pass was

difficult and took several days. When

the men reached Tibet, they were so

exhausted, they agreed to rest at the

first town they reached. Singha was

surprised when they came to a place

he didn’t recall from his last visit. It was

a village of yurts, lit with candles and

decorated with colourful flags.

Singha and his men were greeted by

many beautiful women, who offered

the tired merchants a place to stay

that night. They cooked up a huge

feast and entertained the men with

their dancing. The merchants went

to bed that night feeling very happy.

When they woke the next morning, the

women had already cooked delicious

breakfasts and they begged the men

to stay a little longer and join them for

a party. The men were unable to resist

and soon couldn’t remember why they

had even travelled to Tibet in the first

place. One by one, they fell in love

with the enchanting women.

Did You Know?Singha Sartha Aju is

honoured as the first

person to brave the

journey from Nepal

to Lhasa, the capital

of Tibet. There are

temples in Nepal

where you can

worship his statue,

and some people

believe he may

have become the

god, Buddha.

Only Singha felt that something was

wrong, but he was having such a nice

time feasting and singing and dancing

that he couldn’t work out what it was.

When the men had been in the village

for several days, Singha fell into bed

after another long day of partying.

As he turned to blow out the candle

beside his bed, a face suddenly

appeared in the flame. It grew bigger

and bigger until it almost filled the

yurt. It was the face of Karunamaya –

the god of kindness.

“Singha Sartha Aju, you and your men

must leave here first thing tomorrow

morning! You are being enchanted by

witches who plan to eat you. If you

don’t believe me, look at their feet.

You will see that their heels are at the

front and their toes point backwards!”

34

Singha rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

“I will help you to escape,” said the

god. “Rise before the women awake

and hurry to the river. You will meet

a winged horse there, which will fly

you to safety – but, whatever you

do, you must not look back!”

Singha sneaked out of his yurt and

saw one of the merchants dancing in

the moonlight with a beautiful woman.

When he looked at her feet, he saw

that the god was telling the truth –

her feet were indeed backwards!

The charm was broken and Singha

suddenly felt desperate to escape.

He passed on the news to another

merchant, asking him to spread the

word. By the break of dawn, every

man had heard the terrible truth and

had witnessed the backwards feet of

his witchy companion.

“Their heels are

at the front and

their toes point

backwards!”

They all fled from the enchanted village and set out for the

riverbank, where a giant winged horse stood waiting for them –

it was the god Karunamaya in disguise.

Singha mounted the horse, followed by the other merchants

and, just as it took off, the beautiful witches ran after them,

wailing and crying pitifully for their return.

“Don’t look back!” warned Singha, but it was too late –

the women’s cries were so piercing and sorrowful, the

merchants couldn’t help but look back. As they did, each

of them was dragged straight into the outstretched arms

of the wailing witches.

Only Singha Sartha Aju was strong enough to keep

looking straight ahead and he flew on his winged horse

across the river and all the way home to Nepal, where

he is still remembered today for his bravery.

37

HeidiBy Johanna Spyri

The charming old town of Mayenfeld has a footpath that

leads through green woodlands to the foot of the Alps.

Just at the point where the footpath gets steeper, the air

is filled with the soft perfume of herbs. One sunny morning in June, a tall young

lady was climbing up this narrow path,

leading a little girl by the hand. The

youngster’s cheeks were glowing. Small

wonder, as the little one, who was just five

years old, was bundled up as if she were

braving a bitter frost. She was wearing two

dresses and a large red shawl around her

shoulders. With her feet in heavy boots,

this hot and shapeless little person toiled

up the mountain.

Brilliant Books

The pair had been climbing for about

an hour when they reached a hamlet.

It was the young lady’s hometown, so

she was greeted from nearly every

house. But she didn’t stop until, from

the furthest cottage, a voice called

out: “Deta, please wait! I am coming

with you if you’re going further up.”

When Deta stood to wait, the child

promptly sat down on the ground.

“Are you tired, Heidi?”

“No, but hot,” she replied.

“We’ll be there in an hour, if you take

big steps and climb with all your little

might!” Deta encouraged her.

A pleasant-looking woman stepped

out of the house and joined them.

The child wandered behind them.

“Where are you taking the child,

Deta?” asked the newcomer. “Is she

your sister’s orphaned child?”

“Yes, Barbara,” said Deta. “I am taking

her up to Uncle to stay with him.”

“You can’t really take her there, Deta!

You must have lost your senses. The

old man won’t listen to what you say.”

“That’s not my fault,” said Deta. Then

she looked around for the child; but

the little girl was nowhere to be seen.

“There she is! Can’t you see her?”

exclaimed Barbara. “She’s climbing

up with goatherd Peter and his goats.”

“It will be easy for Peter to watch her,”

remarked Deta. “She is bright for her

five years. Where are you going?”

Barbara was going to a tiny brown

mountain hut, which lay in a hollow

just a few steps from their path.

This was Peter the goatherd’s home

– the eleven-year-old boy, who

fetched the goats from the village

every day and drove them up the

mountain to the luscious pastures.

Deta said goodbye to Barbara and

climbed up a little higher to get a

better view down the valley, and

peered impatiently. The children

were climbing slowly.

38

39

The poor little girl followed Peter,

panting in her heavy clothes. She was

so hot and uncomfortable that it took

all her strength to climb.

She looked enviously at Peter, who

jumped about so easily in his light

trousers. She envied the goats even

more, climbing over bushes and

stones on their slender legs.

Suddenly, Heidi took off her shoes

and stockings. Then she undid her

heavy shawl and two little dresses.

Out she slipped and stood in a light

petticoat. In sheer delight, she threw

up her dimpled arms, which were

bare up to her short sleeves. Heidi

arranged her dresses neatly and

joined Peter and the goats. She was

now as light-footed as any of them.

Feeling free and comfortable, Heidi

started to talk to Peter. She asked him

how many goats he had, and where

he led them, what he did with them

when he got there, and so on. At last

the children reached the hut.

When Deta saw the little climbers

she cried: “Heidi, what have you

done? Where are your dresses

and your shawl? Are your new

shoes gone, and the stockings

that I made?”

The child quietly pointed down

and said, “There.”

The aunt spotted a heap with a

small red dot in the middle, which

she recognised as the shawl.

“Have you lost your senses? Who

will fetch those things? It is half

an hour’s walk! Please, Peter, run

down and get them. I’ll give you

this if you go down.”

With that, Deta held a five-penny

piece under his eyes. In a great

hurry, Peter ran down the path.

He returned so quickly that Deta

had to give him her coin without

delay. He did not often get such a

treasure, so his face was beaming.

“If you are going up to Uncle, you

can carry the pack,” said Deta.

The boy readily took the things

and followed Deta. Heidi jumped

along gaily with the goats.

After three quarters of an hour, they

reached the point where the old man’s

house stood, exposed to every wind,

but bathed in sunlight. From there you

could gaze far down into the valley.

Overlooking the valley, the uncle had

made himself a bench by the side of

the house. Here he sat, with his pipe

between his teeth and both hands

on his knees. He quietly watched the

children climb up with the goats and

Aunt Deta behind them.

Heidi reached him first. Approaching

the old man, she held out her hand

and said: “Good evening, Grandfather!”

“Well, well, what does that mean?”

replied the old man. Giving her his

hand, he watched her from under his

bushy brows. Heidi gazed back at him

and examined him with much curiosity

– he was strange to look at, with his

thick, grey beard and shaggy brows

that met in the middle.

“Hello, Uncle,” said Deta. “This is

Tobias and Adelheid’s child. You won’t

remember her – the last time you saw

her she was scarcely a year old.”

“Why do you bring her here?” asked

the uncle.

“Uncle, I have brought the little girl for

you to look after,” said Deta. “I have

done my share these past four years

and now it is your turn.”

“Indeed!” he said. “What on earth shall

I do, when she begins to whine and

cry for you? Then I’ll be helpless.”

“You’ll have to put up with it!” Deta

replied. “When she was left in my

hands as a little baby, I had to work

out how to care for her myself. Now

I want to earn some money!”

The uncle stood up and gave her

such a look that she retreated a few

steps. Stretching out his arm, he said:

“Away with you! Begone! And don’t

venture here again soon!”

Deta didn’t have to be told twice. She

said goodbye to Heidi and farewell

to her uncle, and started down the

mountain at a tremendous rate.

After Deta had disappeared, he sat

down, blowing big clouds of smoke

out of his pipe.

“What do you want to do?” he asked.

“I want to see in the hut,” replied Heidi.

41

“Come then,” and with that he got up

and entered the cottage.

Heidi followed him into a big room. In

one corner stood a table and a chair,

and in another the grandfather’s bed.

Opposite to it was the cupboard. In

one shelf were a few shirts; on another

a few plates, cups and glasses; and

on the top shelf, Heidi could see bread,

bacon and cheese. She asked, “Where

am I going to sleep, Grandfather?”

“Wherever you want to,” he replied.

That suited Heidi exactly. She looked

for a cosy place. Beside the old man’s

bed she saw a ladder. Climbing up,

she found a hayloft, filled with fresh

hay. Through a tiny round window she

could look far down into the valley.

“I want to sleep up here,” Heidi called.

“Oh, it is lovely! I am making the bed

now,” the little girl called out again.

“Oh, do bring up a sheet, Grandfather.”

The old man opened the cupboard

and pulled out a long cloth.

He climbed up to the loft,

where a neat little bed

was already prepared.

He and Heidi put the sheet

on, tucking the ends in well.

Heidi looked at her fresh new bed and

said, “Grandfather, when I go to bed I

always creep in between the sheet

and the cover.”

“Just wait one minute,” he said, and

went down to his own bed. From it

he took a large, heavy linen bag.

The grandfather put it on Heidi’s bed.

After it was all done, she said: “What a

nice bed, and what a splendid cover! I

only wish that I might go to sleep in it.”

“I think we might eat something first,”

said the grandfather. “Don’t you think?”

When Heidi was reminded of dinner,

she noticed how terribly hungry she

was. Heidi said approvingly, “I think

we might, Grandfather!”

He kindled a bright

fire and put a large

piece of cheese

42

43

on a long iron fork, and held it over the fire, till

it was golden-brown on all sides. Heidi ran to

the cupboard. When her grandfather brought

the toasted cheese to the table, he found it

nicely set with two plates and two knives

and the bread in the middle.

“I am glad to see that you can think for

yourself,” said the grandfather, while he

put the cheese on the bread.

“Now you shall have something to eat!” and

the grandfather filled her bowl with milk. The

little girl ate and drank with great enjoyment.

44

After, they both went into the goat

shed, where the old man busied

himself, putting down fresh straw

for the goats to sleep on.

At last the evening came. The old

fir-trees were rustling and a mighty

wind was howling in the treetops.

Heidi danced about under the trees,

for those sounds made her feel as if a

wonderful thing had happened to her.

Suddenly a shrill whistle was heard

and down from the heights came one

goat after another, along with Peter.

Uttering a cry of joy, Heidi ran into

the flock. When they reached

the hut, two beautiful goats

came out of the herd –

one white and the other brown. Heidi

tenderly caressed them.

“Are they ours, Grandfather? Do they

belong to us? Are they going to stay?”

Heidi asked in her excitement. “Oh,

please tell me their names.”

“The white one’s name is Schwänli

and the brown one, I call Bärli,” was

his answer, as he began to lock them

up for the night.

“Goodnight, Schwänli! Goodnight,

Bärli,” the little girl called as they

disappeared into the shed.

Heidi now hurried up to her own bed

in the hayloft, and that night she slept

as well as a prince on his royal couch.

Turn to

page 50 to find out

how to win a beautiful

edition of Heidi by

Johanna Spyri!

WIN!

45

Be a super puzzle-solver, make your own little

Pumpkin Jack, and be the first person to scale

Storytime Mountain!

Fairy MAGIC!1 The little fairy has made something

magical from the ashes of the fire.

Join the dots to work out what it is!

In The Witches of Tibet, which

animal carries the merchants’

heavy loads over the tall

mountains?

StorytimeStorytimePlayb xPlayb x

Quick Quiz

B

A

C

.1 .2

.3

.4

.5

6.

7.

8.

9.

10.11.

.12

.13

.14.15

16.

17.

.18

.20.21

.22

.23

.19

2

MAKE PUMPKIN JACK

Ask a grown-up!

Our no-sew pumpkin makes a brilliant party decoration

– and you can use it to act out our poem too!

3

• Cutanemptyloorollinhalftomakeitshorter,thenstand

ituprightinthecentreofalargesquareoforangefelt,

fabricorevenanorangepapernapkin.

• Scrunchupaplasticcarrierbagandwrapitaroundthe

loorolltobulkitout.Wrapasecondcarrierbagaround

itifyouwanttomakeyourpumpkinfatter.

• Grabacornerofyourorangefabricandtuckitintothe

holeinthetopofyourlooroll.Dothiswithallfourcorners

ofthefabric,thenmakesureanyloosebitsaretuckedintotherolltoo.

• Takeasheetofbrownpaper–craftpaperoranoldpaperbagorenvelopewilldo.

Twistittolooklikeastalk.

• Stickthestalkinthetopcentreofthelooroll.Thiswillhelpsecurethefabric.

• Toinish,cutouteyes,anoseandamouthforPumpkinJackfromblackfelt,

fabricorpaper,andstickthemonwithPVAorfabricglue.

APPLE Arithmetic!

46

To stop Atlanta winning the race, Melanion has to throw

down an apple every 50 metres. If the race track is 275

metres long, how many apples does he have to throw down?

TIP! Make sure an adult helper is with you to work with the plastic bags.

4

50

m

50

m

50

m

50

m

50

m

50

m

4646

ANSWERS: 1. Fairy Magic – It’s a dolphin; 2. Quick Quiz –

C. Yak; 4. Apple Arithmetic – 5 apples; 6 Counting Sheep

– There are 12 sheep.

47

Can you design

a pair of boots

for our Puss to

wear? Make sure

they’re fancy,

as he needs to

impress the king!

How many

sheep can you

count in Alfie’s

huddle? Write

your answer

in the box.

Counting SHEEP

6

Beautiful BOOTS

5

MOUNTAIN CLIMBER

How to PlayThere are many paths on Storytime Mountain.

Use your finger or a pencil to find the route to

the highest point and back down again that

herds the most goats. You can change

paths whenever you like, but you can’t

go back on yourself. Make a note

of how many goats you collect

as you go. If you’re playing

with other people, the

herder with the most

goats is the winner.

Start

Your mission is to climb to the top of Storytime

Mountain and walk back down to the bottom

again, herding as many goats as you can

along the way. Which path will you take?

Goats collected:

Player 1

Player 2

Player 3

Player 4

Finish

Lovers of The Queen’s Hat rejoice!

Talented illustrator and author

Steve Anthony’s follow-up, The

Queen’s Handbag (from Hodder

Children’s Books), is here. This time,

a handbag-hunting escapade leads

Her Majesty on a tour of Great Britain,

taking in sights including the Angel

of the North, Stone

Henge and Giant’s

Causeway. Will she

catch the culprit? The

fast-paced finale is

not to be missed!

The king of poetry, the Queen of England and two fantastic competitions

you shouldn’t miss! It’s Story Magic!

Book of the Month

STORY MAGIC

My Favourite Fairy Tale!

COMPETITION TIME!

Story lovers! Enter our

competition to win

one of five hardback

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find out what happens

next in her adventure!

Visit www.storytimemagazine.com/shop to pick up

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favourite – Hansel and Gretel!

Former children’s laureate and superstar

poet and author, Michael Rosen, shared

his favourite classic fairy tale with us…

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resourcefulness of young people and the possibility

of redemption and change at the end.”

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Make magic with Storytime!

Atlanta and the Golden Apples

Long ago in Ancient Greece, a King

called Iasus longed for a son to

inherit his throne, so when the queen

had a baby girl, the king was bitterly

disappointed and he took the

poor baby away and left it in

the wilderness.

11

Myths and Legends friends, and Artemis warned Atlanta

that she should never marry or she

would lose her incredible powers.

Artemis wasn’t the only one who had

heard of Atlanta – when stories spread

of the young woman’s courage and

strength, she was challenged to ights,

invited on perilous voyages and asked

to hunt a giant boar, which terrorised

the land. She succeeded in everything

she tried her hand at and, before long,

King Iasus realised that this incredible

woman might be the daughter he had

abandoned in the wild.

Accepting that Atlanta was as brave

as any son he might have had, he

asked her to come home and begged

for her forgiveness. Atlanta agreed,

but she hadn’t been reunited with her

family for very long, when her father

began to nag her to get married.

Atlanta was happy as she was and,

remembering Artemis’s warning, she

made a deal with him.

“Father, I will only marry the man who

can beat me in a race, and anyone

who fails must be thrown into prison.”

The baby, whose name was Atlanta,

was found by a mother bear, who

took pity on the baby and raised

her with her own cubs until, one

day, a hunter came by and took

Atlanta home. Over the years, the

hunter taught Atlanta the skills she

needed to survive in the wild. With

his help, she grew up to be a great

hunter – she was fearless, strong,

fast and highly skilled with a bow.

Altanta’s skills were soon noticed

by Artemis, the goddess of the wild.

Artemis and Atlanta became good

www.storytimemagazine.comFind out more at :

Classic Tales to Read, Love and Share

TMStorytime

TM

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time

Twelve Days of Christmas, The Greedy Fox, The Snow Child, The Queen of Winter & MORE!

“She w

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15

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Issue 15£3.99

Santa Claus

CHRISTMAS STORY SPECIAL!

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Follow awesome Atlanta as she

runs the race of her life

Coming in issue 15

Discover why Alfie

shouldn’t cry wolf

The Boy Who

Cried WolfA lfi e was a shepherd b

oy and it was his job, come rain

or shine, to look after the sheep

that belonged to his

neighbours in the village.

6

One sunny day, he was sitting on the hillside watching the sheep, when

he started to think about the younger children playing in the village.

How he wished he could join them! Just remembering the fun he used

to have made Alfi e grow tired of his woolly companions. He was bored

with watching the clouds fl oat by and he’d climbed every tree.

Famous Fables

06-09_ST_14.indd 6

30/07/2015 12:53

Look out for funny

feet in Tibet

Only Singha felt that something was

wrong, but he was having such a nice

time feasting and singing and dancing

that he couldn’t work out what it was.

When the men had been in the village

for several days, Singha fell into bed

after another long day of partying.

As he turned to blow out the candle

beside his bed, a face suddenly

appeared in the lame. It grew bigger

and bigger until it almost illed the

yurt. It was the face of Karunamaya –

the god of kindness.

“Singha Sartha Aju, you and your men

must leave here irst thing tomorrow

morning! You are being enchanted by

witches who plan to eat you. If you

don’t believe me, look at their feet.

You will see that their heels are at the

front and their toes point backwards!”

34

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