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Title: Types of Prose Narratives
Author: Fansler, Harriott Ely
Language: English
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*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Types of Prose Narratives" ***


Transcriber's note.

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Formatting and special characters are indicated as follows:

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TYPES OF PROSE NARRATIVES



TYPES OF PROSE NARRATIVES

                   A TEXT-BOOK FOR THE STORY WRITER
                                  BY
                         HARRIOTT ELY FANSLER

Assistant Professor of English in the University of the Philippines.
Formerly Instructor in English in Western Reserve University at
Cleveland, Ohio

  [Illustration]

  CHICAGO
  ROW, PETERSON & COMPANY



  COPYRIGHT, 1911,
  HARRIOTT ELY FANSLER.



PREFACE


Inspiration for any craftsman lies in the history of his art and in a
definite problem at hand. He feels his task dignified when he knows
what has been done before him, and he has a starting point when he can
enumerate the essentials of what he wants to produce. He then goes to
his work with a zest that is in itself creative. There is a popular
misconception, especially in the minds of young people and seemingly
in the minds of many teachers and critics of literature, that geniuses
have sprung full-worded from the brain of Jove and have worked without
antecedents. There could not be to a writer a more cramping idea than
that. It is the aim of the present volume to help dispel that illusion,
and to set in a convenient form before students of narrative the
twofold inspiration mentioned--a feeling for the past and a series of
definite problems.

There has been no attempt at minuteness in tracing the type
developments; though there has been the constant ideal of exactness
and trustworthiness wherever developments are suggested. In other
words, this book is not a scrutiny of origins, but a setting forth of
essentials in kinds of narratives already clearly established. The
analysis that gives the essentials has, of course, the personal element
in it, as all such analyses must have; but the work is the work of one
mind and is at least consistent. Since I have not had the benefit of
other texts on the subject (for there are none that I know of) and
since the inquiry into narrative types with composition in view is thus
made, put together with illustrations, and published for the first
time, it has been my especial aim to exclude everything dogmatic. As
can readily be seen, the details have been worked out in the actual
classroom. The safe thing about the use of such a text by other
instructors is the fact that they and their pupils can test the truth
of the generalizations by first-hand inquiry of their own.

The examples chosen from literature and here printed are specific
as well as typical. They have been selected not only to illustrate
general principles, but for other reasons as well--some for superior
intrinsic worth; some for historical position; all because of possible
inspiration. But none have been selected as models.

The themes written by my present and former pupils are added for the
last reason--as sure reinforcement of the inspiration, as provokers
to action. Often students fail to write because there is held up to
them a model, something complicated and perfect in detail. They feel
their apprenticeship keenly and hesitate to attempt a likeness to a
masterpiece. But, on the other hand, when they get a glimpse of history
and when they see the work of a fellow tyro, they know that an equally
good or even better result is within their reach and so set to work
at once. The productions of pupils under this historical-illustrative
method, wherever it has been tried, have been encouraging. Seldom has
any one failed to present an acceptable piece of work. Once in a while
a "mistake" has been made that has reassured a teacher and a class of
the accuracy of the contamination theory--the historical cross-grafting
or counter influence of types; that is, sometimes in the endeavor
to produce a theme that should vary from those he thought the other
students would write, an earnest worker has unconsciously produced
an example of the next succeeding type to be studied; unconsciously,
because hitherto, of course, the classes have gone forward without a
printed text.

This statement leads to the question, Why publish the literary
examples? Why not merely give the references? Because school and even
town libraries are limited. Twenty-five card-holders can scarcely get
the same volume within the same week. Besides, the plan I consider
good to insure the pupil's thorough acquaintance with the library
accessible to him and with library methods and possibilities is quite
other than this. This book is meant as a work-table guide for the
student and as a time-saver for the teacher; hence all the necessary
material should be immediately at hand. The instructor's concern in
the teaching of narrative writing is just the twofold one mentioned
before--to orientate the young scribbler and to give him a quick and
sure inspiration. After that he is to be left alone to write, and the
fewer the books around him the better.

The bibliography is added for two other classes of persons: those
who desire to make a somewhat further and more minute study of type
developments, and those who wish merely to read extensively or
selectively in the works of fiction and history themselves. The list of
books and authors is intended simply to be helpful, not exhaustive, and
consequently contains, with but few exceptions, only those works that
one might reasonably expect to find in a well-stocked college or city
library.

I confess I hope that some amateur writer out of college or high
school may chance upon the book and be encouraged by it to persevere.
There are many delightful hours possible for one who enjoys
composition, if he can but get a bit of a lift here and there or a
new impulse to an occasionally flagging imagination. All but the very
earliest literature has been produced thus--namely, by a conscious
writing to a type, with an idea either of direct imitation, as in the
case of Chaucer, who gloried in his "authorities;" or of variation and
combination, as in the case of Walpole; or of equaling or surpassing in
excellence, as in the case of James Fenimore Cooper; or of satire and
supersedence, as in the case of Cervantes.

But to go back to the student themes here presented. They were written,
with the exception of two, for regular class credit. These two were
printed in a college paper as sophomore work. A number of the remaining
came out in school publications after serving in the English theme box.
All in all, they are the productions of actual students; from whom,
it is hoped, other young writers may get some help and a good deal of
entertainment. In each case the name of the author is affixed to his
narrative, since he alone is responsible for the merits and faults of
the piece.

In regard to the Filipino pupils no word is necessary: they speak
for themselves. The work here given as theirs is theirs. I have not
treated it in any way different from the way I treat all school
themes, American or other. It is everyday work--criticized by the
instructor, corrected by the pupil, and returned to the English office.
The examples could be replaced from my present stock to the extent
literally of some ten, some twenty, some two hundred fold. Naturally,
of course, as is true of all persons using a foreign language, the
Filipinos mistake idiom more often than anything else, and they write
more fluently than they talk; but there is among them no dearth of
material and no lack of thought. Indeed, the publishers have been
embarrassed by the supply of interesting stories, especially in the
earlier types. The temptation has been to add beyond the limits of
the merely helpful and illustrative and to pass into the realm of the
curious and entertaining. Regardless of literary quality, Filipino
themes have today an historic value; many of them are the first written
form of hitherto only oral tradition.

To say to how great an extent a writer and talker is indebted to
his everyday working library is difficult. Like a sculptor to an
excellent quarry, a teacher can indeed forget to give credit where
credit is due, especially to the more general books of reference such
as encyclopedias and histories of literature--Saintsbury, Chambers,
Ticknor, Jusserand. I would speak of the "Standard Dictionary," that
does all my spelling for me and not a little of my defining; and the
"Encyclopedia Britannica," which in these days of special treatises is
sometimes superciliously passed over, though it offers in its pages not
only much valuable literary information, but some of that information
in the form of very valuable literature. Next to these might be placed
Dunlop's "History of Fiction;" and last, particular and occasional
compilations like Brewer's and Blumentritt's, and criticism like
Murray's, Keightley's and Newbigging's. Then there is the "World's
Great Classics Series." Just how much I owe to these general texts I
cannot perhaps tell definitely; though I am not conscious of borrowing
where I have not given full credit. As I have said before, direct
treatises on my subject are lacking; so I shall have to bear alone the
brunt of criticism on the analysis, or the main body of the book. I
know of no one else to blame.

Grateful acknowledgment is due to my husband, Dean Spruill Fansler,
for long-suffering kindness in answering appeals to his opinion and
for reading the manuscript, compiling the bibliography, and making the
index. Without his generous help I should hardly have found time or
courage to put the chapters together.

In justice to former assistant English instructors in the United States
who have successfully followed earlier unpublished outlines, and to my
colleagues in the University of the Philippines who have been teaching
from the book in manuscript form for nine months, it ought to be said
that, whatever faults the work may have--and I fear they are all too
many--it can hardly be dismissed as an immature and untried theory.

If there should be found any merit in the content of the book in
general, I should like to have that ascribed to the influence of
the department of English and Comparative Literature of Columbia
University, where I had the privilege of graduate study with such
scholars as Ashley Horace Thorndike, William Peterfield Trent and
Jefferson Butler Fletcher.

My chief material debt is to the publishing firms who have very
courteously permitted the reprinting of narratives selected from their
copyrighted editions.

                                                               H. E. F.

University of the Philippines, Manila, 1911.



TABLE OF CONTENTS


  LIST OF STORIES                                                  xv-xx
  INTRODUCTION                                                  xxi-xxvi

  Part 1. Narratives of Imaginary Events

  CHAPTER I. THE PRIMITIVE-RELIGIOUS GROUP                          1-82

  I. MYTH--Classes of myths: primitive-tribal and
  artificial-literary--Myth age not a past epoch--How traditional myths
  are collected--How original myths are composed--Difference between
  myth and allegory, and myth and legend--Working definition--List of
  mythological deities: Greek, Roman, Egyptian, Hindu, Russian, Finnish,
  Norse, Filipino--Examples                                            1

  II. LEGEND--Myth and legend compared--Saga--Saint legends--Geoffrey of
  Monmouth--Legendary romance--Modern literary legends--How to select
  and record a legend of growth--How to write a legend of art--Working
  definition--Examples                                                22

  III. FAIRY TALE--Attitude toward fairy stories--Fundamental
  characteristics of fairies--Northern fairies and their attributes--Some
  literary fairy tales--How to proceed to write a fairy tale--Summary
  definition--Partial lists of fairies of different countries:
  Northern, Irish and Scotch, Filipino, Russian, Arabian, and
  Miscellaneous--Examples                                             43

  IV. NURSERY SAGA--Origin--The brothers Grimm--English nursery
  sagas--Distinguishing elements: kind of hero, rhymes, repetition of
  situation, supernatural element--A few specific suggestions--Working
  definition--Examples                                                65

  CHAPTER II. SYMBOLIC-DIDACTIC GROUP                             83-127

  I. FABLE--Æsop--Other early fabulists--"Hitopadesa" and
  "Panchatantra"--"Reynard the Fox" and bestiaries--Some more writers of
  fables--Working definition--Classes of fables: rational, non-rational,
  mixed--How to write an original fable--Maxims upon which fables may be
  built--Examples                                                     83

  II. PARABLE--Distinguishing characteristics--Tolstoy--Suggestions on
  writing a parable--Working definition--A list of proverbs that might be
  expanded into parables--Examples                                   101

  III. ALLEGORY--Characteristics--Plato's "Vision of Er"--Modern
  allegories--Some famous English allegories--Allegory fable, and
  parable differentiated--Working definition--How to write an
  allegory--Present-day interest in primitive types--Examples        112

  CHAPTER III. INGENIOUS-ASTONISHING GROUP      128-254

  I. TALE OF MERE WONDER--Definition--Collections of
  wonder stories, ancient and modern--Suggestions for
  writing--Characteristic elements--Mediæval tales of chivalry--Heroic
  romances--Examples                                                 128

  II. IMAGINARY VOYAGE WITH A SATIRIC OR INSTRUCTIVE
  PURPOSE--Distinguishing elements--Source of the type--Famous
  imaginary voyages--Suggestions on how to write
  a satiric imaginary voyage--Examples                               150

  III. TALE OF SCIENTIFIC DISCOVERY AND OF MECHANICAL
  INVENTION--Relation to imaginary voyages--Essential
  elements--Kind of stories included in this type--Suggestions
  on how to write the type--Examples                                 194

  IV. THE DETECTIVE STORY AND OTHER TALES OF PURE
  PLOT--The detective story: connection with stories of
  ingenuity--Poe and Doyle--Other stories of plot--Romance--A
  few suggestions--Examples                                          225

  CHAPTER IV. THE ENTERTAINING GROUP                             255-344

  I. TALE OF PROBABLE ADVENTURE--Characteristics and definition--How to
  write a probable adventure--A warning--Examples                    255

  II. THE SOCIETY STORY--Definition--Pastoral Romance--Suggestions on
  writing a society story--Examples                                  277

  III. THE HUMOROUS STORY--Definition--Fableaux--Picaresque
  romance--Difference between a humorous story and a comic
  anecdote--Examples                                                 299

  IV. THE OCCASIONAL STORY--The spirit of the occasional story--Its
  masters--Suggestions for subjects--Examples                        313

  CHAPTER V. THE INSTRUCTIVE GROUP                               345-394

  I. THE MORAL STORY--Differentiated from the symbolic-didactic
  group--Great authors who have written this type: Hawthorne, Johnson,
  Voltaire, Tolstoy, Cervantes--What to put in and what to leave
  out--Examples                                                      345

  II. THE PEDAGOGICAL NARRATIVE--Definition--Some famous pedagogical
  books--Froebel--Examples                                           361

  III. THE STORY OF PRESENT DAY REALISM--What realism is--The realistic
  school--Suggestions on characters to treat--Examples               370

  CHAPTER VI. THE ARTISTIC GROUP: THE REAL SHORT-STORY           395-478

  I. THE PSYCHOLOGICAL WEIRD TALE--Origin--The School of Terror--Poe,
  Stevenson, Maupassant, and others--Suggestions on writing a weird
  tale--Material and method--Form--Examples                          398

  II. STORY THAT EMPHASIZES CHARACTER AND ENVIRONMENT--Kipling--Mary
  E. Wilkins Freeman--Hamlin Garland--Bret Harte--Suggestions
  and precautions--The "Character": Overbury and Hall--Novel of
  Manners--Trollope's Cathedral Town Studies--Examples               426

  III. STORY THAT EMPHASIZES CHARACTER AND EVENTS--Difference between
  character-place story and character-events story--Component elements
  of this type--A scrapbook suggestion--Other suggestions--Examples  455

  Part II. Narratives of Actual Events

  CHAPTER VII. PARTICULAR ACCOUNTS                               479-556

  I. INCIDENT--Definition--How to tell an incident--Examples         480

  II. ANECDOTE--Meaning of the term--Ana--Collection of anecdotes--How to
  write an original anecdote--Examples                               490

  III. EYE-WITNESS ACCOUNT--What it is and how to write it--An ancient
  eye-witness account--Literary eyewitness accounts--Examples        499

  IV. TALE OF ACTUAL ADVENTURE--The one necessary element--Suggestions
  for writing--Examples                                              512

  V. THE TRAVELER'S SKETCH--What a traveler's sketch includes--Great
  travel books--Fielding's gentle warning--A motto for the
  narrator--Examples                                                 530

  CHAPTER VIII. PERSONAL ACCOUNTS                                557-611

  I. JOURNAL AND DIARY--The two distinguished--The range of
  journals--"Vida del Gran Tamurlan"--Great diaries--How to write
  journal and diary--Examples                                        557

  II. AUTOBIOGRAPHY AND MEMOIRS--Distinction--Cellini, Franklin, and
  others--Selection and coherence--Examples                          572

  III. BIOGRAPHY--Beginning in England of literary biography--Great
  biographies in English--Writer and subject--Beginning, emphasis, and
  attitude--Outline for a life--Examples                             590

  CHAPTER IX. IMPERSONAL ACCOUNTS                                612-645

  I. ANNALS--What annals are--Famous old annals--Stow--Suggestions on
  material--Examples                                                 613

  II. CHRONICLES--Definition--Froissart, Ayala, "General Chronicle of
  Spain"--Saxo Grammaticus--Holinshed--True relations--Examples      626

  BIBLIOGRAPHY                                                   647-660
  INDEX                                                          661-672



LIST OF STORIES

NARRATIVES OF FICTITIOUS EVENTS


                                =Myths=
                                                                  PAGE

  The World's Creation and the Birth of Wainamoinen.
  From the _Kalevala_                                                 14

  _Students' Themes_--
  Origin of the Moon                        Emanuel Baja              16
  The First Cocoanut Tree                   Manuel Reyes              18
  The Lotus                                 Ida Treat                 21

                               =Legends=

  Kenach's Little Woman                     William Canton            28

  _Students' Themes_--
  A Legend of Gapan                         Teofilo Corpus            36
  Manca: a Legend of the Incas              Dorothea Knoblock         38
  The Place of the Red Grass                Sixto Guico               42

                             =Fairy Tales=

  The Boggart                               From the English          55

  _Students' Themes_--
  Cafre and the Fisherman's Wife            Benito Ebuen              57
  The Friendship of an Asuang and a Duende  Emanuel Baja              58
  A Tianac Frightens Juan                   Santiago Ochoa            61
  The Black Cloth of the Calumpang          Eusebio Ramos             63

                            =Nursery Tales=

  Princess Helena the Fair                  From the Russian          69

  _Students' Themes_--
  Juan the Guesser                          Bienvenido Gonzalez       73
  The Shepherd who became King              Vicente Hilario           78

                               =Fables=

  Jupiter and the Countryman                From the _Spectator_      90
  The Drop of Water       (Persian)         From the _Spectator_      91
  The Grandee at the Judgment Seat          Kriloff                   91
  The Lion and the Old Hare                 From the _Hitopadesa_     92
  The Fox and the Crab                      From the Turkish          93
  The Fool who Sells Wisdom                 From the Turkish          94
  The Archer and the Trumpeter              From the Turkish          95

  _Students' Themes_--
  The Courtship of Sir Butterfly            Maximo M. Kalaw           96
  The Hat and the Shoes                     José R. Perez             98
  The Crocodile and the Peahen              Elisa Esguerra            99
  The Old Man, his Son, and his Grandson    Eutiquiano Garcia        100

                              =Parables=

  The Three Questions                       Tolstoy                  104

  _Students' Themes_--
  A Master and his Servant                  Eusebio Ramos            110
  The Parable of the Beggar and the Givers  Dorothea Knoblock        111

                             =Allegories=

  The Artist                                Oscar Wilde              120
  The House of Judgment                     Oscar Wilde              120

  _Students' Themes_--
  The Chain that Binds                      Elizabeth Sudborough     123
  The Love which Surpassed All Other Loves  Florence Gifford         125

                        =Tales of Mere Wonder=

  The Story of the City of Brass           From the _Arabian Nights_ 132

  _Student's Theme_--
  The Magic Ring, the Bird, and the Basket  Facundo Esquivel         147

                          =Imaginary Voyages=

  Mellonta Tauta                            Edgar Allan Poe          155

  _Student's Theme_--
  Busyong's Trip to Jupiter                 Manuel Candido           173

        =Tale of Scientific Discovery and Mechanical Invention=

  A Curious Vehicle                         Alexander Wilson Drake   200

  _Students' Themes_--
  The Spyglass of the Past                  Hazel Orcutt             218
  Up a Water Spout                          Edna Collister           221

                =Detective Story and Tale of Mere Plot=

  Thou Art the Man                          Edgar Allan Poe          228

  _Student's Theme_--
  The Picture of Lhasa                      Hazel Orcutt             248

              =Tales of More-or-Less Probable Adventure=

  Fight with a Bear                         Charles Reade            257

  _Student's Theme_--
  Secret of the Jade Tlaloc                 Dorothea Knoblock        267

                           =Society Stories=

  The Fur Coat                              Ludwig Fulda             277

  _Student's Theme_--
  The Lady in Pink                          Wilma I. Ball            289

                          =Humorous Stories=

  The Expatriation of Jonathan Taintor      Charles Battell Loomis   302

  _Students' Themes_--
  Kileto and the Physician                  Lorenzo Licup            307
  The Lame Man and the Deaf Family          Santiago Rotea           311

                         =Occasional Stories=

  The Lost Child                            François Coppée          315

  _Students' Themes_--
  The Peace of Yesterdays                   Katherine Kurz           334
  A Christmas Legend                        Ida F. Treat             342

                             =Moral Story=

  Jeannot and Colin                         Voltaire                 348

                       =Pedagogical Narratives=

  Gertrude's Method of Instruction          Pestalozzi               365

  _Student's Theme_--
  Lawin-lawinan (a Filipino game)           Leopoldo Uichanco        368

                   =Stories of Present-Day Realism=

  The Piece of String                       Maupassant               374

  _Students' Themes_--
  A Social Error                            Ida Treat                382
  The Lot of the Poor                       Agnes Palmer             388
  Filipino Fear                             Walfrido de Leon         390

                      =Psychological Weird Tales=

  The Signal-Man                            Charles Dickens          403

  _Student's Theme_--
  Like a Thief in the Night                 Dorothea Knoblock        420

          =Stories That Emphasize Character and Environment=

  Muhammad Din                              Rudyard Kipling          432

  _Students' Themes_--
  The Fetters                               Katherine Kurz           436
  When Terry Quit                           Dorothea Knoblock        446
  Nora Titay and Chiquito                   Joaquina E. Tirona       453

             =Stories That Emphasize Character and Events=

  The Necklace                              Maupassant               460

  _Student's Theme_--
  Andong                                    Justo Avila              470


NARRATIVES OF ACTUAL EVENTS

                              =Incidents=

  A Near Tragedy                            Fielding                 482
  An Incident before Sadowa: Birds
    Divulge Army Secrets                    Newspaper                483
  An Incident Related in a Letter           Robert Louis Stevenson   484

  _Students' Themes_--
  A Hero Dead                               Ida Treat                485
  My First Day at School                    Máximo Kalaw             487
  The Guinatan Prize                        Leopoldo Faustino        488

                              =Anecdotes=

  Coleridge's Retort                                                 493
  An Inevitable Misfortune                                           494
  A Point Needing to be Settled                                      494
  Patience                                                           494
  Preaching and Practice                                             495
  Johnson's Dictionary                                               495
  The Boy Kipling                                                    496
  Sir Godfrey Kneller                       Spence                   496
  Pope and the Trader                       Spence                   497
  The Capitan Municipal and the Jokers    José Feliciano             497
  An Instance of Bamboo Spanish             Pilar Ejercito           498
  Mr. Taft's Mistake                        Amando Clements          499

                        =Eye-Witness Accounts=

  The Portuguese Revolution                 Newspaper                503

  _Student's Theme_--
  A Contrast                                Adolfo Scheerer          509

                     =Tales of Actual Adventures=

  The Bear Hunt                             Tolstoy                  514

  _Students' Themes_--
  Saladin and I Fight an Alupong            Cecilio Esquivel         525
  I Get Two Beatings                        Facundo Esquivel         527
  The Fall of Juan                          Gregorio Farrales        528
  A Narrow Escape from a Wild Carabao       José Cariño              529

                        =Travellers' Sketches=

  On the Way to Talavera                    George Borrow            534
  Smyrna--First Glimpses of the East        Thackeray                539

  _Student's Theme_--
  A Trip from Curimao to Laoag              Fernando Maramag         551

                        =Journals and Diaries=

  Extracts from Pepys' Diary                                         562

  _Students' Themes_--
  A Diary of Four Days                      Facundo Esquivel         564
  A Journal: Mock Heroic                    Victoriano Yamzon        567

                      =Autobiography and Memoirs=

  The Life of David Hume, Esq.              Written by himself       575
  Student autobiography                     Domingo Guanio           585
  What I Remember of the Coming of
    the Americans                           Leopoldo Faustino        588

                             =Biographies=

  Queen Christina                           Hawthorne                595

  _Students' Themes_--
  Juan Luna's Life                          Dolores Asuncion         604
  Life of Elizabeth Glade                   Nellie Barrington        607
  The Biography of a Traitor                Walfrido de Leon         609

                               =Annals=

  The State of England, in Stephen's Reign  _Peterborough Chronicle_ 616

  _Students' Themes_--
  Annals of Mangaldan                       Translated by Bernabe
                                              Aquino                 621
  Annals of Pagsanjan                       Dolores Zafra            622

                             =Chronicles=

  Rivalry between Two Towns                 Froissart                630

  _Students' Themes_--
  A Short History of Ilagan                 Fernando Maramag         636
  Some Incidents of the Rebellion of
    1898: A True Relation                   Marcelino Montemayor     639



INTRODUCTION


There are many interesting possibilities for both the reader and the
writer in a study of narrative types. It is a truism to say that
everybody loves a story. Every race, every nation, every tribe, every
family, has its favorite narratives. Every person has his and likes to
repeat them. Even the driest old matter-of-fact curmudgeon delights
in relating an incident if nothing else. Perhaps he tells you of how
he lost and found again his pocket talisman--a buckeye, maybe, or
a Portuguese _cruzado_. He will assure you that he does not really
believe that the unfortunate events that followed his loss of it
were occasioned by its absence, or the return of good-luck casually
connected with its recovery; but still, he adds, he feels much better
with the old thing in his pocket. "And that was a queer coincidence,
wasn't it?" he insists, starting again over the details of the
happening. So with us all: we all know and love stories, our own or
another person's.

It is a fine thing to write a story. It is good through one's
imagination and skill to entertain one's fellows or through one's
accurate observation of life and history to benefit society. The
narrator has always been honored. In earliest times he was the seer
and prophet, forming the religion of his wandering tribe; later he
was the welcomed guest, for whom alone the frowning castle's gate
stood always open; and after the dark ages, in the time of the
revival-of-the-love-of-written-things, he was the favorite at the
court of favoring princes, who lavished upon him preferment and money
and humbly offered him the laurel crown, their highest tribute. In our
own day his reward surpasses that of kings and presidents. They come to
him, and for immortality invoke his name. In earliest times he composed
in verse so that his story might be remembered and handed down. In
latest times he writes most often in prose--a more difficult medium
to handle with distinction, but one more widely understood and more
readily appreciated than poetry.

Narrative as a general type needs no definition. What pure description
is the ordinary reader might hesitate to assert, or exposition, or
argumentation; but not story: he knows that. Let an author combine
these others with a series of events, let him put them in as aids to
the understanding or as ornaments on the thread of his recital, and
they are accepted without question as elements of narration, be it
prose or verse in form, true or fictitious in content. That is to say,
though a story often contains to some extent all the other forms of
writing too, we think of it as narrative because it carries us along a
course of events. Frequently the teller spends much time in studying
different styles and kinds of description and in analyzing various
devices used to secure definite effects, because he wishes to call
to his aid every bit of skill possible in portraying his characters
and places; but general readers take his fine points of description
and exposition as matters of course and are crudely interested in the
happenings he has to relate. They are unconscious of the fact that
much of their enjoyment comes from knowing how a hero looks, what
his surroundings are, and what his disposition and usual character. A
story-writer gives no small amount of attention also to transcribing
conversations; but the ordinary reader takes these likewise as expected
parts of narrative. But there is one thing that the author and the
reader agree on at the outset as necessary to be settled; namely, the
kind of story to be written or to be read.

It is pleasant to know that there are definite types of narratives
that the world has always loved, and that there are new forms growing
up as civilization becomes more complex. Some of the kinds of stories
discussed in this book are older than the English language, older than
Christianity, older even than the divisions of Aryan speech. They seem
to be inherent forms of all literatures, to be as ancient as thought
and as young as inspiration. They are in use to-day in every tongue.

This book attempts to set forth the distinguishing elements of the
types that have persisted, those matters that a writer must take into
account when producing or a critic when judging. Though its title
emphasizes the fact that now-a-days most persons think of stories
as being always in prose, the book discriminates but little in this
respect. In reality a student of narrative cares hardly at all whether
the vehicle be meter or not. He is concerned with something else.
Language form is rather an accident of the time and the fashion than
anything essential. It is not dependent on the author's personality
even. Chaucer undoubtedly would write in prose to-day, whereas our
modern idealists would certainly have lisped in numbers a hundred
years ago. We study narrative types, therefore, with the idea that
verse tales are but measured and rhythmical expression of the
same forms--sometimes the best, sometimes merely the most popular
expression--but that the development in presentation has been toward
prose, especially for the more psychological and complex material.

On the basis of content, narratives fall naturally into two large
divisions: those that recount imaginary happenings and those that
recount actual happenings. These large divisions in turn fall into
smaller and still smaller groups upon one basis or another--source,
purpose, method, or what not.

Under the division of narratives of fictitious events we notice
six groups, when we are thinking of source and purpose: (1)
the primitive-religious; (2) the symbolic-didactic; (3) the
ingenious-astonishing; (4) the merely entertaining; (5) the
instructive; (6) the artistic. Within these groups come the following
individual types: (1) myth, legend, fairy tale, nursery saga; (2)
fable, parable, allegory; (3) the tale of mere wonder, the imaginary
voyage with a satiric or expository purpose, the tale of scientific
discovery and mechanical invention, the detective story; (4) the
probable adventure, the society story, the humorous and picaresque
story, the occasional story; (5) the moral tale, the pedagogical
narrative, the realistic sketch; (6) the psychological weird tale; the
story that emphasises place and character, the story that emphasizes
events and character.

On the basis of form and of the attitude of the teller, narratives of
actual events fall into three groups. The first set has five types:
incident, anecdote, eye-witness account, traveler's sketch, and the
tale of actual adventure. The second set includes journal and diary,
autobiography and memoirs, biography. The third set is composed of
annals, and chronicles and true relations. Instead of naming these
sets, we might describe them thus: The first is made up of particular
accounts of the doings of the writer and others in chance groups; the
second, of more-or-less extended accounts of the sayings and doings
of individual personages who for the time are important and either
write about themselves or are written about; the third, of impersonal
accounts of the doings of larger or smaller sections of mankind as
units.

Of course, the types fade into one another, and it is only in analyzing
that a person would draw a hard and fast line between any two of them;
but it is permissible to draw this line for the convenience of study
and discussion. After an investigator has learned all the kinds, he may
classify a given story into one or the other group according to the
predominating characteristics, or he may make a group of narratives of
mixed kinds, and consider the various elements.

If he is trying, however, to write also, as well as to study according
to the suggestions of this book, it would be a good plan for him to
endeavor to produce at each attempt a rather more than less pure
example of the type under consideration, so as to get as a result not
only an interesting narrative, but a working model either for criticism
or further production. For a person to have studied carefully an
analysis of a type, to have read a distinct literary example of it,
and to have attempted to put together a narrative that contains the
essential elements, ought to mean that he has in his possession a piece
of knowledge that will be valuable to him all his life, irrespective
of any purely artistic quality of his achievement. That quality will
probably be present much more surely than he at first expects; for a
large part of the excellence of a piece of literature results from
definite knowledge on the part of the writer, a clear aim to produce a
particular kind of composition, and an indefatigable perseverance in
revision of details. By emphasis on knowledge and work one would not
preclude inspiration. Indeed, one would thereby court it; for, as we
all know, it comes usually only to the expert and patient toiler. Even
Robert Burns labored long over his reputedly spontaneous songs. The
thought came to him often at the plough, it is true; but he confesses
that afterwards he spent many hours polishing his lines.



PART I

NARRATIVES OF IMAGINARY EVENTS



TYPES OF PROSE NARRATIVES

CHAPTER I

THE PRIMITIVE-RELIGIOUS GROUP


The traditional types--myth, legend, fairy tale, and nursery saga--are
designated as primitive-religious in order to express the fact
that they grew up in response to the reverent credulity of simple
folk. The myths of all races are the embodiment of their highest
prehistoric religious thinking. The legends are their semi-historical,
semi-religious thinking. The fairy and nursery stories are modified
forms of the other two. Consequently they all belong together in one
group.


I. The Myth

There are two general classes of myths: the primitive-tribal and the
artificial-literary, or myths of growth and myths of art.

From the point of view of ethnology, the myth of growth is primitive
philosophy, and represents racial anthropomorphic thinking concerning
the universe. Anthropomorphic is a term derived from the Greek
ἄνθρωπος, meaning man, and μορφἠ, meaning shape or form, and is used
to describe the tendency of people to represent invisible forces as
having human form (for example, the Deity), or natural forces like
fire and wind as being animate, volitional agents. It is probably true
that, at a very early stage in the development of both the individual
and the race, every object is looked upon as having life; and later,
if any distinction is made between animate and inanimate, spirits are
yet regarded as agents controlling the inanimate and causing changes
therein. A myth of growth is the verbal expression of this attitude of
the mind of a people in its wider and deeper imaginings.

Doubtless after the first or second repetition of a myth, which
some seer of a tribe chants in rude verse, the primitive listener
is confused between fact and fancy. The non-essential incidents
which the narrator adds from sheer love of making up a story are not
distinguished from the incidents that really express the working of
natural forces. So it happens that, in the time between the first
starting up of the account and the analysis and explanation of it
by some philosopher, a narrative handed down from father to son is
believed in, word for word, as religious truth, though gaining details
and losing its original meaning as it goes. As some one has said, it
was because the Greeks had forgotten that Zeus meant _the bright sky_
that they could talk of him as a king ruling a company of manlike
deities on Mount Olympus.

There are many beautiful myths existing to-day in prose and poetry. In
the tribal species, there is the great mass of Greek and Roman early
religious stories and there are the Oriental and the Norse cycles. In
the artificial group there are the later Greek and Roman myths like
those devised by Plato and Plutarch, and there are our more modern
beautiful creations with myth elements like Milton's "Comus" and many
of the poems of Keats, where not only the incidents are newly made
but the deities also. In prose we have the delightful "Wonder Book,"
which Hawthorne prepared for children. We have become so familiar with
"Paradise Lost" that we hardly realize that it is essentially myth--a
great seer's expression of the anthropomorphism of his people. Like a
true bard of old, Milton added much also to his people's thinking on
the universe. How much he added we see fully only when we deliberately
compare the extension and concreteness of his account with the
meagerness of the Hebrew Scriptures.

[Myth age not a past epoch]

An error we are liable to fall into concerning myths is that of
presuming that they are wholly things of the past; that nowadays nobody
believes in them or tells them. In fact, many persons and many tribes
believe in them and tell them. The myth age is not a past epoch, but
a condition of thinking. It is always present somewhere and present
to some extent always among all races. The primitive tribes of the
Philippines believe implicitly in their myths. The Bontoc Igorots,
for example, tell how the Moon woman, Kabigat, cut off the head of a
child of the Sun man, Chal-chal, and thus taught head-hunting to earth
people; some of them tell, too, how Coling, the Serpent Eagle, was
made, and happens to be always hovering over their pueblo. Even the
youngest child knows how the rice-bird came about, and why an Igorot
never harms O-wug, the snake. These stories are being gathered to-day
by American scientists and are being written down for the first time.
The native college students of the Islands have joined in a movement
to preserve the traditions of the more civilized tribes also, and are
industriously putting into written form the stories of their people.
Most of these are not beliefs that are past, but beliefs about the
past--a distinction noteworthy to the student of myths. Little children
of all races are naturally in a myth age, and many of their imaginings
are as beautiful as those of the old Greeks, and, if made known, would
be as contributive to literature, I dare say. Poets are but grown-up
children to whom Nature makes a continued concrete appeal, and they are
always thinking myth-wise, we well know.

So it happens that even the most learned man is willing to listen
to a new myth. All the reader demands is that it shall be either a
scientifically made record of some present tribal belief or a beautiful
and philosophical interpretation of the workings of nature--such a one
as a simple, early pagan, but poetic and essentially refined, mind
might imagine. Plato's myths were advisedly artificial. He deliberately
set out to modify and improve the government of his time by means of
religious stories, and he begged the other philosophers to attempt the
like also. He gave his magnificent "Vision of Er" as an example of what
might be done.

[How traditional myths are collected]

If one wishes to collect traditional myths among a primitive people,
this is in general the way he proceeds: He calls to his aid the
more elderly folk and the little children--those that have time and
inclination to talk. If he can not speak their dialect, he obtains
an interpreter--if possible, one very intimate and sociable with the
tribe. Then he himself tries to get into good fellowship with all,
and to induce free and natural talking. He asks for tales of the sun
and moon, the wind and the rain, grasses, flowers, birds, clouds,
mountain-systems, river-chains, lightning, thunder, and whatever else
their gods have charge of. He asks about the relation of these gods
with the deities of neighboring peoples--which, if any, are to be
feared and why. Then he makes note of as many historical facts as he
can about the tribe--where it first lived, what are the topographical
features of the remote and the immediate places of abode, how powerful
the warriors are, what respect they command from outsiders, what are
considered most honored occupations, and so on. These facts are not
to go explicitly into the story, but are to form the background of
explanation if he cares to seek or give one. Then, too, they may aid
him in making a happy translation of the primitive oral narrative. The
aim of the collector, however, is accuracy rather than beauty, though
beauty may be present in his versions.

[How original myths are composed]

The writer of an original myth, on the other hand, tries to make
his diction as exquisite as he can without affectation. He proceeds
somewhat differently, though with no less forethought. If he wishes to
use gods and goddesses already known, he attempts not to violate the
generally accepted notions of their characteristics. He bears in mind
that the beings of myths are large, ample, superhuman, of the race of
the infinite. Above mortals, they rule mortals or ignore them. The
gods are never petty, though they may be trivial. They belong to the
over-world. They are essential: they make day and night, the coming
of the seasons, the roll of the ocean, the rising and setting of the
constellations. Connected with them too, of course, he knows, are the
lesser events of Nature's activity, the speaking of echo, the blooming
of the slender narcissus at the edge of the pool, the drooping of the
poplars. Hence the writer of a myth of art modifies or adds, but avoids
making radical changes. If he chooses wholly to invent his deities,
he picks out for each a definite phenomenon and keeps it steadily in
mind in order that his created personage may be an appropriate one to
perform the well-known actions of the natural force he is explaining.
He makes the deeds of his beings far-reaching in result and does not
forget to give them euphonious and suggestive names.

[Difference between myth and allegory]

There is a difference between myth and allegory as narratives, although
myth is fundamentally allegorical in the broad sense of the term. The
actors of myth are rather representative than figurative. Being grander
they are at once more simple and dignified than those of allegory. The
gods are not thin abstractions raised to concreteness, but are powerful
forces reduced to the likeness of men.

Pure myth is different from pure legend likewise, though legend may
have gods in it. Legend is generally confined to a particular person
or event, or is connected with a definite spot and a limited result;
whereas myth deals with universal phenomena.

[Working definition of myth]

The collector or composer of myths, accordingly, posits for himself
some such working definition as this: A myth is a story accounting in a
fanciful way for a far-reaching natural phenomenon. The basis on which
the narrator proceeds is emphatically not science, but imagination and
philosophy. He pictures the activities of the universe as the conduct
of personal beings, as gods and goddesses doing good or evil, creating
and destroying, ruling man or ignoring him, punishing and rewarding.


A List of Deities

  =Great Greek Deities=   =Great Roman Deities=
  Zeus                    Jupiter (king)
  Appollon                Apollo (the sun)
  Ares                    Mars (war)
  Hermes                  Mercury (messenger)
  Poseidon                Neptune (ocean)
  Hephaistos              Vulcan (smith who made the armor of the gods)
  Hera                    Juno (queen)
  Demeter                 Ceres (tillage)
  Artemis                 Diana (moon, hunting)
  Athena                  Minerva (wisdom)
  Aphrodite               Venus (love and beauty)
  Hestia                  Vesta (home life)
  Dionysos                Bacchus (wine and revelry)
  Eros                    Cupid (the lad Love)
  Pluton                  Pluto (king of Hades)
  Kronos                  Saturn (Time, who devoured all his children
                                  except Jupiter, Neptune and Pluto)

Juno was the wife of Jupiter, Hera of Zeus, Venus of Vulcan, Aphrodite
of Hephaistos.

Persephone was wife of Pluton, Proserpine was wife of Pluto, Cybele was
wife of Saturn, Rhea was wife of Kronos.


Egyptian Gods

  Ra--the sun, usually represented as a hawk-headed man. He protects
    mankind, but has nothing in common with men.

  Shu--light, a type of celestial force, for he is represented
    supporting the goddess of heaven. His consort was Tefnet.

  Seb--the god of the earth; Nut was the goddess of heaven. These two
    are called "father of the gods."

  Osiris--the good principle. He is in perpetual warfare with evil. He
    is the source of warmth, life and fruitfulness. Isis, his wife, was
    his counterpart in many respects. Osiris became the judge of the
    under-world, and Isis was the giver of death.

  Horus--the son of Osiris. He avenged his father, who was slain by
    Typhon.

  Seth, or Typhon--the brother of Osiris, and his chief opponent.
    He represented physical evil; he was the enemy of all good. His
    consort was Nebti.

  Thoth--the god of letters, the clerk of the underworld, and the
    keeper of the records for the great judge, Osiris. The chief
    moon-god.

  Ptah--the Egyptian Hephaestus, the divine architect.

  Ma-t--the goddess of truth. She is characterized by the ostrich
    feather, the emblem of truth, on her head.

  Anubis--the jackal-headed, presided over tombs and mummification.

  The Sphinx--a beneficent being who personified the fruit-bearing
    earth, and was a deity of wisdom and knowledge.


Hindoo Gods

  Dyaus--the most ancient name for the supreme god. Dyaus, the heaven,
    married Prithivi, the earth, and they became the father and mother
    of the other Hindu gods. Dyaus is also the god of rain.

  Indra--the rain-bringer. The son of Dyaus. He is a strong, impetuous
    warrior, drives a chariot drawn by pawing steeds, bears a
    resistless lance that is lightning.

  Vishnu--one name for the sun; second god of the Hindu triad,
    literally the Pervader. (Brahma and Siva are the other two of the
    trinity.)

  Vishnu is represented as being of blue color. His _sacti_, or wife,
    is Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth.

  Mitra--another name for the sun-god.

  Rudra--the father of the storm-gods, the Maruts.

  Maruts--the storm gods. "They overturn trees, destroy whole forests,
    they roar like lions, are swift as thought. In the Maruts we see
    blind strength and fury without judgment."

  Vayu--sometimes the wind was thought of as a single personality. He
    was called Vayu.

  Agni--the fire-god. Considered the messenger between the Hindus and
    heaven. He carried their offerings to Dyaus-pitar.

  Varuna--the noblest figure of the Vedic religion. The supreme god at
    one time. Sometimes he was the All-Surrounder. Later he was ruler
    of the seas.

  Yama--the judge of the dead. He had a dog with four eyes and wide
    nostrils, whom he sent to earth to collect those about to die.

  Vritva--an evil snake which had stolen some treasure and a maiden,
    Ushas. She was rescued by Indra.

  Ushas (Ahana)--a pure, white-robed being from whose presence every
    dark thing fled away. Ushas never grows old, but she makes others
    old. (Same as Eos, Greek; Aurora, Latin.) She is the dawn; is also
    known by the name of Dahana.

  Rita--a word to signify the all-pervading law of nature. It was the
    power that settled the path of the sun. The abode of Rita was in
    the east, and finally every good thing traveled in the path of Rita.

  Asoura Medhas--the wise living one, the animation of moving mind and
    matter. He is the mysterious principle of life, is represented as
    one god high over everything. However, he mingles in the affairs of
    men.

  Surya (same as Gr. Helios)--the special god who dwelt in the body of
    the sun.

  Savitar--another personification of the sun. He is spoken of as
    golden-eyed, golden-tongued and golden-handed.


MINOR DEITIES

  Kuvera--the god of riches.

  Kamadeva--the god of love, represented as riding on a dove, and armed
    with an arrow of flowers and a bow, whose string is formed of bees.

  Ganesha--the god of prudence and policy.


Russian Gods

  Peroun--Lightning; the chief god.

  Svaroga--begetter of fire and of the sun gods. Used also sometimes as
    name of chief god.

  Dajh'bog--grandfather of the sun.

  Kolyada--beneficent spirit who was supposed to visit the farms and
    villages in mid-winter and bring fertility to the pent-up herds and
    frost-bound seeds. A festival in honor of Kolyada was held about
    December 25, the date when the sun was supposed to triumph over the
    death in which Nature had gripped him, and to enter again on his
    new span of life.

  Stribog--wind-god.


Finnish Mythology (derived from Kalevala)

  Ahto--god of the sea.

  Hisi--evil spirit, also called Lempo. His son was Ahti, another name
    for Lemminkainen.

  Lowjatar--Tuoni's daughter; mother of the nine diseases.

  Mana--also called Tuoni; the god of death.

  Manala--also called Tuonela; the Deathland, for it was the abode of
    Mana.

  Suonetar--the goddess of the veins.

  Tapio--the forest-god.

  Ukko--the greatest god of the Finns.

  Mielikki--the forest-goddess.

  Osmotar--the wise maiden who first made beer.

  Sampo--the magic mill forged by Ilmarinen, which brought wealth and
    happiness to its possessor.


Norse Deities

  Odin--the All-father.

  Thor--the thunderer.

  Baldr--the shining god; he typifies day.

  Freyr (Fro)--fruitfulness; the patron of seafarers.

  Tyr--the god of war and athletic sports.

  Bragi--god of poetry and eloquence.

  Hodur--Baldur's twin brother; the god of darkness.

  Heimdall--kept the keys of heaven; was the watchman of Asgard.

  Ulle--god of the chase and of archery. A fast runner on stilts or
    snowshoes.

  Mimir--most celebrated of the giants; god of wisdom and knowledge.

  Loki--the god of strife and the spirit of evil. He had three cruel
    and hateful children: Fenris, a huge wolf; Hel, half black and half
    blue, who lived on men's brains and marrow; and Formungard, the
    monstrous serpent of Midgard. Loki's wife was Sigura.


Filipino Deities

TAGALOG

  Atasip--a demon of the ancient Tagalogs.

  Bathala--principal god of the Tagalogs.

  Dian Masalanta--the god which was the patron of lovers and the god of
    procreation.

  Idinale--the god of husbandry.

  Lakhanbakor or Lakhanbakod--a god who cured sickness.

  Lakambui--a god who first (according to some writers) gave food.

  Pasing-tabi sa nono--with this phrase the Tagalogs used to pray
    the gods of the fields to allow them to walk on the fields and
    cultivate them.

  Sinaya--a divinity which the fishermen used to pray to.

  Sitan--a kind of evil spirit (a Mohametan word).

  Sonat--the pontifex maximus of the ancient Tagalogs.


VISAYAN

  Laon--the supreme god.

  Makabantog--the god of licentiousness and tumult.

  Sigbin--certain familiar spirits, which used to accompany any woman.
    They made a bargain with her and served her constantly.

  Solad--the Inferno.

  Sikabay--Eve, the first woman.

  Sikalak--the first man, Adam.

  Sinburanen--the god who conducted the souls of the dead consigned to
    Hades.

  Suigaguran }
  Suinuran   } gods of the Inferno.
  Sumpay     }

  Tagalabong--spirits who lived in the fields and woods.

  Yatangao--a god which made himself visible in the rainbow. Warriors
    going to battle invoked this god.


BAGOBOS

  Bayguebay--the first woman or Eve.

  Damakolen--the god who made the hills and mountains.

  Makakoret--the god who created the air.

  Makaponquis--the god who created water.

  Malibud--the deity (fem.) who created woman.

  Mamale--the god who created the earth.

  Rioa-Rioa--a horrible and evil being which, suspended from the zenith
    like a large pendulum, approaches the earth and devours those men
    which his servant Tabankak gives him.

  Salibud--the god who taught the first men to cultivate the fields, to
    trade, and to practice other industries.

    Note: In the Filipino themes a foreign word is italicized only the
    first time it appears.


=The World's Creation and the Birth of Wainamoinen=

Long, long ago, before this world was created, there lived a lovely
maiden called Ilmatar, the daughter of the Ether. She dwelt in the
air--there were only air and water then--but at length she grew tired
of always being on high, and came down and floated on the surface of
the water. Suddenly, as she lay there, a mighty storm-wind began to
blow and poor Ilmatar was tossed about helplessly on the waves, until
at length the wind died down, the waves became still, and Ilmatar, worn
out by the violence of the tempest, sank beneath the waters.

Then a magic spell overpowered her, and she swam on and on vainly
seeking to rise above the waters, but always unable to do so. Seven
hundred long weary years she swam thus, until one day she could not
bear the loneliness longer, and cried out: "Woe is me that I have
fallen from my happy home in the air, and cannot now rise above the
surface of the waters. O great Ukko, ruler of the skies, come and aid
me in my sorrow!"

No sooner had she ended her appeal to Ukko than a lovely duck flew
down out of the sky, and hovered over the waters looking for a place
to alight; but it found none. Then Ilmatar raised her knees above the
water, so that the duck might rest upon them; and no sooner did the
duck spy them than it flew towards them and, without even stopping to
rest, began to build a nest upon them.

When the nest was finished, the duck laid in it six golden eggs, and a
seventh of iron, and sat upon to hatch them. Three days the duck sat
on the eggs, and all the while the water around Ilmatar's knees grew
hotter and hotter, and her knees began to burn as if they were on fire.
The pain was so great that it caused her to tremble all over, and her
quivering shook the nest off her knees, and the eggs all fell to the
bottom of the ocean and broke in pieces. But these pieces came together
into two parts and grew to a huge size, and the upper one became the
arched heavens above us, and the lower one our world itself. From the
white part of the egg came the moonbeams, and from the yolk the bright
sunshine.

At last the unfortunate Ilmatar was able to raise her head out of the
waters, and she then began to create the land. Wherever she put her
hand there arose a lovely hill, and where she stepped she made a lake.
Where she dived below the surface are the deep places of the ocean,
where she turned her head towards the land there grew deep bays and
inlets, and where she floated on her back she made hidden rocks and
reefs where so many ships and lives have been lost. Thus the islands
and the rocks and the firm land were created.

After the land was made Wainamoinen was born, but he was not born a
child, but a full-grown man, full of wisdom and magic power. For seven
whole years he swam about in the ocean, and in the eighth he left the
water and stepped upon the dry land. Thus was the birth of Wainamoinen,
the wonderful magician.--From the _Kalevala_.

    "Finnish Legends for English Children," by R. Eivind (T. Fisher
    Unwin).


_TRIBAL MYTH_

=Origin of the Moon=

South and east of Manila Bay stretches a piece of land, on which there
used to be a large forest surrounded and fringed by the Sierra Madre
mountains on the east, and guarded by the active Taal volcano on the
south. This volcano, which is on a small lake, is said to be always
looking toward the east, shouting with his big mouth the name of _Buan
Buan_, a very beautiful nymph who dwelt once in this deep forest. The
large trees formed towering pillars, the vines and moss that grew wild,
together with the blooming flowers, were ornaments of her court. The
birds, the insects, and all kinds of animals were her subjects.

The people who live now in this land say that in the beginning of the
world there was no such thing as the moon that shines at night. They
assert that the origin of the moon came in this wise:

Many thousands of years ago, when the beautiful nymph Buan was in her
court, a warlike tribe settled on her land of enjoyment. The invaders
began to cultivate the rich soil of this place. Buan, seeing that her
flowers would be destroyed and her birds driven away, fled toward the
west in grief. On the sea she saw a little _banca_ into which she
climbed and in which she drifted along until she came to an island near
where the Sun sleeps.

One afternoon when the Sun was about to hide his last rays, he was met
by the beautiful nymph, who at once said to him, "O Sun, bear me with
you, and I will be your faithful wife forever." Without hesitation
or doubt, the gallant Sun, who had been shining over the earth with
open eyes looking for a wife, took Buan under his golden arm, and they
together, as true lovers, departed.

The Arch-Queen of the Nymphs, ever quarrelsome and jealous, seeing the
departure of Buan, sent lightning and hurled thunderbolts after the two
fleeing lovers. Buan, who was peacefully slumbering on the breast of
her lover, fell down into the water. The Sun in his fright ran away,
and continued his course as usual. Pitied by the gods Buan did not
drown, but floated on the foam of the sea. The Sun lighted the world
the next morning with a great deal of heat and sorrow in his eyes,
searching for his lost sweetheart. Buan, who was hidden in the foam
that floated on the sea, did not come out until evening. By that time
Sun had retired to his wonderful cave beneath the ocean. Buan wandered
about until finally she saw a glittering light within the waves. In her
fright she cried aloud. The Sun, who was suddenly awakened from his
cave by her grief, saw her. With a satisfied heart he took her into his
cave, where they dwelt for a whole night. They sat and talked about
their love. The Sun taught her how to travel across the sky. However,
he asked Buan not to follow him in any of his journeys.

One afternoon Buan was sitting before the door of the cave waiting for
her lover. Longing and sentiment grew strong in her, and she remembered
the past days when she had lived in her forest court. This state of
mind made her come out of the cave, and she rode on the air by magic.
For fifteen successive nights she did this, yet she could not see her
old home. Finally she asked her husband to bear her across heaven in
order that she might see her home. The next morning the Sun took Buan
on his back, and they sailed across the sky. The world became dark,
for the sun could not then well illuminate the earth. The gods were
astonished. The Arch-Queen of the Nymphs sent a storm of wind and rain,
which made Buan turn into a soft brilliant mass of light. She was to be
with her husband but once every thirty days. She was also punished by
not being allowed to show herself entirely every night. She could not
sail across heaven for more than thirteen or fourteen days at a time.

                                                        --Emanuel Baja.


_TRIBAL MYTH_

=The First Cocoanut Tree and the Creation of Man=

There were three gods, Bathala, Ulilangkalulua, and Galangkalulua.
Bathala, a very large giant, ruled the earth; Ulilangkalulua, a very
large snake, ruled the clouds; and Galangkalulua, a winged head,
wandered from place to place. In fact, each of these gods thought that
he was the only living being in the universe.

The earth was composed of hard rocks. There were no seas and no oceans.
There were also no plants and no animals. It was indeed a very lonely
place. Bathala, its true inhabitant, had often wanted to have some
companions, but he wondered how he could provide these companions with
food, drink, and shelter when there was nothing on the earth but rocks.

What was true of Bathala was also true of Ulilangkalulua. In his
kingdom Ulilangkalulua saw nothing but white clouds. His solitary
condition led him to visit other places. He often came down to the
earth and enjoyed himself climbing high mountains and entering deep
caves.

As he was at the top of a very high hill one day, he saw some one
sitting on a large stone down below him. He was very greatly amazed and
it was a very long time before he could speak. At last he said, "Sir,
tell me who you are."

"I am Bathala, the ruler of the universe," answered the god.
Ulilangkalulua was filled with anger when he heard these words. He
approached Bathala and said, "If you declare yourself to be the ruler
of all things, I challenge you to combat."

A long struggle took place, and after the fighting had continued about
three hours Ulilangkalulua was slain. Bathala burned his body near his
habitation.

Not many years after this event Galangkalulua, the wandering god,
happened to find Bathala's house. Bathala received him and treated him
kindly. Thus, they lived together for many years as true friends.

Unfortunately, Galangkalulua became sick. Bathala did not sleep day and
night for taking care of his friend. When Galangkalulua was about to
die, he called Bathala and said, "You have been very kind to me, and
I have nothing to repay your kindness with. But if you will do what
I tell you, there is a way in which I can benefit you. You once told
me that you had planned to create creatures of the same appearance as
you in order that you might have subjects and companions, and that you
had not been successful because you did not know how you could supply
them with all the necessary things. Now, when I die, bury my body in
Ulilangkalulua's grave. In this grave will appear the thing that will
satisfy you."

Bathala did what Galangkalulua told him, and Galangkalulua's promise
was fulfilled. From the grave grew a plant, whose nut contained water
and meat. Bathala was very anxious to examine the different parts of
the tree because he had never seen such a thing before. He took a nut
and husked it. He found that its inner skin was hard and that the
nut itself resembled the head of his friend, Galangkalulua. It had
two eyes, a flat nose, and a round mouth. Bathala then looked at the
tree itself and discovered that its leaves were really the wings of
Galangkalulua and its trunk the body of his enemy, Ulilangkalulua.

Bathala was now free to carry out his plan. He created the first man
and woman. He built a house for them, the roof and walls of which were
made of the leaves of the cocoanut and the posts of which were cocoanut
tree trunks. Thus lived happily under the cocoanut palm this couple for
many years until the whole world was crowded with their children. These
children still use the cocoanut for food and clothing--the leaves for
making mats, hats, and brooms, and the fiber for rope and other things.

                                                        --Manuel Reyes.


_ORIGINAL MYTH_

=The Lotus=

Long ago, when the world was young, the Nile loved a maiden. She was
Isis, daughter of a hundred stars, who, as she nightly climbed the dark
pinnacle of cloud, drew her silver drapery across the stream's dark
bosom. Many were the sighs he breathed throughout the long nights--but
Isis heard him not; for the wind had told her of Osiris, Osiris the
beautiful, the well-beloved, who daily waked the dreaming earth with
his warm kiss. And afterwards Mira, the great Star-Mother, bending from
her gleaming throne, had spoken of Osiris and his glittering steeds,
while Isis listening, yearned for him whom she had never seen, whose
radiance was brighter even than that of Nefra-the-fire-bearer, who,
once in a century, flashed through the still heavens. So Isis heeded
not the Nile, moaning at her feet, for her eyes were ever bent on the
rim of the world, whence would come in rosy haste the heralds of Osiris.

But one morning, when the starry sisters were fleeing, one by one,
to the silent underworld, Isis stayed in the dark cloudland. The
night winds called her to hasten, but she heard them not, and stood
waiting--while above the eastern horizon rose the Hours, streaking
the heavens with their amber veils, and borne along behind them,
Osiris himself, more radiant than her dreams. But Osiris, glad in the
greetings of the jubilant earth, saw only a star-maiden lingering in
her pale robes on the borders of the forbidden Kingdom. Catching up a
barbed shaft, he hurled it shrieking through the air--and Isis fell.

The winds fled in horror from the earth; the air shuddered, and shrank
away; but the Nile, roaming in agony through the fields, stretched
out his mighty arms and, with a great cry, gathered the lifeless
star-maiden to his bosom. And there, where Isis fell, rose a starry
flower, pale, but with the stain of the dawn in its heart.

                                                        --Ida F. Treat.


II. The Legend

[Myth and legend compared]

Historically the legend may or may not be a later development than the
myth. The bards may have ascribed the fanciful deeds of the gods to
their tribal heroes, or they may have elevated their tribal heroes into
gods by exaggerating actual adventures into far-reaching phenomena. For
our present study the descent is immaterial; the distinction is all.
In the myth the chief actors are gods; in the legend, men--men endowed
with superhuman strength often, to be sure, but still men, though the
favorites of the gods. The course of events in the typical myth is pure
and absolute imagination; the course of events in the typical legend
is somewhat held down by facts. When the deeds are magnified or wholly
fanciful, the characters are semi-historical; when the events or places
are historical, the chief actors are generally imaginary.

[Saga]

In the myth-legend, or saga, the deeds transcend the ordinarily
credible and the heroes are often directed by superhuman agencies.
Perhaps the oldest examples of this kind are those recorded in the
Sanscrit "Mahabharata" and "Ramayana", and the Persian "Shah Nameh."
In the last occurs the beautiful story of Sohrab and Rustam, who lived
six hundred years before Christ. Firdousi, writing as late as the
first decade of the eleventh century, was therefore working over very
ancient material. Such combinations likewise of older tradition and
later writing are the Anglo-Saxon "Beowulf", the French "Chanson de
Roland", the Spanish "Cid", the Italian "Orlando Furioso" (which is the
French story adapted), the German "Hildebrand", "Waltharilied", and
"Nibelungen Nôt", and the Icelandic "Grettir the Strong" and "Volsunga
Saga". The "Volsunga Saga" as we have it today is prose with some songs
from the "Elder Edda". Legend in its written form as a composition
type we think of as prose, though it may be verse, or prose and verse
combined.

[Saint legends]

To the early church a legend meant the narrative of the life of a saint
or a martyr, especially the account of his triumphs over temptation
and of the miracles he witnessed or performed. Even to-day in some
monasteries such stories are read at meals while the monks eat. It is
interesting to note that the church distinguishes between _legenda_,
things to be read, and _credenda_, things to be believed. What appears
to be the earliest of these legends and the model of the others is said
to have been written by St. John of Damascus, a monk of Syria, who
lived in the eighth century. It is called "Barlaam and Josaphat" and
contains besides the lives of the prince and the prophet many beautiful
parables, one of which Shakespeare immortalized in the casket scene in
the "Merchant of Venice". The life of Josaphat is in turn said to be
the legendary life of the Buddha. There are many beautiful Celtic and
Anglo-Saxon Christian stories of this type. In the Cynewulfian group
of Anglo-Saxon Lives of the Saints, the "Andreas" is considered very
fine. With its account of St. Andrew's miraculous rescue of St. Matthew
from prison among the heathen is a sturdy, realistic description of
a stormy voyage on northern seas. "The Golden Legend", published by
Caxton in 1483, is a translation of a celebrated medieval collection of
lives of the greater saints, composed in Latin by Jacobus de Voragine,
a Dominican archbishop of Genoa, in the thirteenth century.

[Geoffrey of Monmouth]

The great English legendary history and a great source-book of English
literary legend is the _Historia Britonum_ of Geoffrey of Monmouth.
Besides giving us the original story of Lear and many other things in
his record of British rulers down to the Saxon Invasion, this twelfth
century author, building on the meager basis of an unknown Nennius
and possibly a cleric's version of Welsh traditions, started the
magnificent Arthurian cycle on its way. This Latin account joined the
great stream of continental legendary romance, added to it and took
from it, and came back into English in Layamon's "Brut" in the form of
a series of metrical legends for the common people.

[Legendary romance]

That most original and enchanting of all the medieval legendary romance
books, Malory's "Morte Darthur", stands between the old and the new
English fiction in that it has the content of the one and the form
of the other. In it were gathered up the religious element (that had
come in with the tradition of Joseph of Arimathæa), the love element
(of the Launcelot-Guinevere stories), and the national element
(Arthur, his wonderful Excalibur and his knights), and so emphasized,
so incomparably set forth, so shaken together, if you please, that
they combined and stayed together ever afterwards. On the form side,
this work is prose and it is art--the first English prose fiction, so
announced and so taken. It is literary legend. An artist conscious of
his art offered the material not as history or religion, but as a thing
of beauty. The preface states, "And for to pass the time this book
shall be pleasant to read in, but for to give faith and belief that all
is true that is contained herein, ye be at your liberty."

When stories such as these, either by an aim at history or at art,
emphasize what has been believed, they are classed as legend; when they
emphasize magic and combine history in a riotous way for the mere sake
of astonishing, they are classed as wonder tales.

While on the one side legend shades off into myth and wonder tales,
on the other it shades off into anecdote. A tendency to write legend
instead of fact is always present. As soon as a man or a place becomes
prominent, fictitious stories begin to spring up, founded not only on
what was done, but also on what might have been done. But to persist, a
legendary account must be true to the character and traits of the hero
or town or tribe or race with which it deals; at least, it must be true
to the popular conception of the character. Though innumerable, the
versions of the Faust story, for example, are nevertheless essentially
consistent. Typical legends shading off into history and anecdote are
those about William Tell, Robert the Bruce, Alfred the Great, John
Smith and Pocahontas, and many of the popular tales about Columbus,
Washington, Lincoln, and Rizal.

[Modern literary legends]

There are modern literary legends. An exquisite legend of a place
is "Rip Van Winkle" by Washington Irving. A terrific French novel
is founded on the legendary idea of the Wandering Jew. A wholesome
boys' story that is often mistaken for history is "The Man Without a
Country." Selma Lagerlöf, who was given the Nobel prize in 1909 for the
most original piece of literature, has written among others a saint's
legend about a hermit who was won to brotherly love by a pair of birds
that built a nest and hatched their young in his outstretched palms as,
keeping a vow, he stood day and night praying heaven to take vengeance
and destroy the sinful world. Allied to this species is one of Count
Tolstoy's most widely read stories. It is built upon an idea current in
all races and appearing in many legends; namely, of an angel sent by
God to live a while among men. But Tolstoy, with his fervent devotion
to the good of the people, has turned his narrative into a parable, and
calls it "What Men Live By." Another beautiful religious narrative, an
art legend tangent to tradition, is Henry Van Dyke's "The Other Wise
Man."

[How to select and record a legend of growth]

It is easy for one to select a place legend. Every town in the world,
I suppose, has stories connected with it that are only typically
true. Almost every prominent topographical feature has an explanatory
narrative current about it. Take any of these popular tales concerning
the cliffs, river, mountain peak, spring, lake, gully, or pictured
rocks of your neighborhood and you have a legend, so long as your
story confines itself to that particular spot, and does not let its
subject be emphatically the result of great natural forces or of the
cause of all subsequent similar formations. In other words, one must
remember that the basis of legend is particular incident, while that
of myth is universal phenomenon; the content of legend is exaggerated
history, while the content of myth is fanciful science. All one needs
to do to record such a place legend is to arrange the details in a
coherent fashion and to write out the sentences in good, clear, simple
English, sticking as close to the original oral account as correct
syntax will allow. If one cares to write about people instead of
places, one follows in general the same directions, being sure not
to fall into mere anecdote or incident, but to have a full, complete
account.

[How to write a legend of art]

To write a literary art legend, an author selects in history some
period that he likes very much or some hero or heroine he has always
admired, and notes down a number of facts that are connected with one
another and with his subject; then he lets his imagination loose upon
them. He uses terms and expressions of the age of which he is writing;
phrases that now appear quaint add a flavor of reality to the tale. But
he is careful, however, not to misuse words and thus commit what the
critics call anachronism, by putting the idioms peculiar to one age or
one people into the mouth of another. An occasional special touch is
good, but too much straining for effect spoils a story. He gets rather
into the mood of simple faith in greatness and goodness, and tells
of brave deeds and generous actions that might well have happened.
Dramatic truth there must be; literal truth, not necessarily. A working
definition runs somewhat like this:

[Working definition]

Legend is a narrative partly true and partly imaginary, about a
particular person, event, place or natural feature; a story that has
the semblance of history, but is in reality almost altogether fanciful,
since the basic fact is amplified, abridged, or wholly changed at the
will of the narrator.


=Kenach's Little Woman=

As the holy season of Lent drew nigh the Abbot Kenach felt a longing
such as a bird of passage feels in the south when the first little
silvery buds on the willow begin here to break their ruddy sheaths,
and the bird thinks tomorrow it will be time to fly over seas to the
land where it builds its nest in pleasant croft or under the shelter
of homely eaves. And Kenach said, "_Levabo oculos_--I will lift up
mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help," for every year
it was his custom to leave his abbey and fare through the woods to the
hermitage on the mountainside, so that he might spend the forty days in
fasting and prayer in the heart of solitude.

Now on the day which is called the Wednesday of Ashes he set out, but
first he heard the mass of remembrance and led his monks to the altar
steps, and knelt there in great humility to let the priest sign his
forehead with a cross of ashes. And on the forehead of each of the
monks the ashes were smeared in the form of a cross, and each time the
priest made the sign he repeated the words, "Remember, man, that thou
art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return."

So with the ashes still in his brow and with the remembrance of the end
of earthly days in his soul, he bent his steps towards the hermitage;
and as he was now an aged man and nowise strong, Diarmait, one of the
younger brethren, accompanied him in case any mischance should befall.

They passed through the cold forest, where green there was none, unless
it were the patches of moss and the lichens on the rugged tree trunks
and tufts of last year's grass, but here and there the white blossoms
of the snowdrops peered out. The dead gray leaves and dry twigs
crackled and snapped under their feet with such a noise as a wood fire
makes when it is newly lighted; and that was all the warmth they had on
their wayfaring.

The short February day was closing in as they climbed among the
boulders and withered bracken on the mountainside, and at last reached
the entrance of a cavern hollowed in the rock and fringed with ivy.
This was the hermitage. The Abbot hung his bell on a thick ivy bough
in the mouth of the caves; and they knelt and recited vespers and
compline; and thrice the Abbot struck the bell to scare away the evil
spirits of the night; and they entered and lay down to rest.

Hard was the way of their sleeping; for they lay not on wool or on
down, neither on heather or bracken, nor yet on dry leaves, but their
sides came against the cold stone, and under the head of each there was
a stone for pillow. But being weary with the long journey, they slept
sound and felt nothing of the icy mouth of the wind blowing down the
mountainside.

Within an hour of daybreak, when the moon was setting, they were
awakened by the wonderful singing of a bird, and they rose for matins
and strove not to listen, but so strangely sweet was the sound in the
keen moonlight morning that they could not forbear. The moon set, and
still in the dark sang the bird, and the gray light came, and the bird
ceased; and when was white day they saw that all the ground and every
stalk of bracken was hoary with frost, and every ivy leaf was crusted
white round the edge, but within the edge it was all glossy green.

"What bird is this that sings so sweet before day in the bitter cold?"
said the Abbot. "Surely no bird at all, but an Angel from heaven waking
us from the death of sleep."

"It is the blackbird, Domine Abbas," said the young monk; "often they
sing thus in February, however cold it may be."

"O soul, O Diarmait, is it not wonderful that the senseless small
creatures should praise God so sweetly in the dark, and in the light
before the dark, while we are fain to lie warm and forget His praise?"
And afterwards he said, "Gladly could I have listened to that singing,
even till tomorrow was a day; and yet it was but the singing of a
little earth wrapped in a handful of feathers. O soul, tell me what
it must be to listen to the singing of an Angel, a portion of heaven
wrapped in the glory of God's love!"

Of the forty days thirty went by, and oftentimes now, when no wind
blew, it was bright and delightsome among the rocks, for the sun was
gaining strength, and the days were growing longer, and the brown trees
were being speckled with numberless tiny buds of white and pale green,
and wild flowers were springing between the boulders and through the
mountain turf.

Hard by the cave there was a wall of rock covered with ivy, and as
Diarmait chanced to walk near it, a brown bird darted out from among
the leaves. The young monk looked at the place from which it had flown,
and behold! among the leaves and the hairy sinews of the ivy there was
a nest lined with grass, and in the nest there were three eggs--pale
green with reddish spots. And Diarmait knew the bird and knew the eggs,
and he told the Abbot, who came noiselessly, and looked with a great
love at the open house and the three eggs of the mother blackbird.

"Let us not walk too near, my son," he said, "lest we scare the mother
from her brood, and so silence beforehand some of the music of the cold
hours before the day." And he lifted his hand and blessed the nest and
the bird, saying, "And He shall bless thy bread and thy water." After
that it was very seldom they went near the ivy.

Now after days of clear and benign weather a shrill wind broke out
from beneath the North Star, and brought with it snow and sleet and
piercing cold. And the woods howled for distress of the storm, and
the gray stones of the mountain chattered with discomfort. Harsh cold
and sleeplessness were their lot in the cave, and as he shivered, the
Abbot bethought him of the blackbird in her nest, and of the wet flakes
driving in between the leaves of the ivy and stinging her brown wings
and patient bosom. And lifting his head from his pillow of stone he
prayed the Lord of the elements to have the bird in His gentle care,
saying,

"How excellent is Thy loving kindness, O God! therefore the children of
men put their trust under the shadow of Thy wings."

Then after a little while he said, "Look out into the night, O son, and
tell me if yet the storm be abated."

And Diarmait, shuddering, went to the mouth of the cavern, and stood
there gazing and calling in a low voice, "Domine Abbas! My Lord Abbot!
My Lord Abbot!"

Kenach rose quickly and went to him, and as they looked out the sleet
beat on their faces, but in the midst of the storm there was a space
of light, as though it were moonshine, and the light streamed from
an Angel, who stood near the wall of rock with outspread wings, and
sheltered the blackbird's nest from the wintry blast.

And the monks gazed at the shining loveliness of the Angel, till the
wind fell and the snow ceased and the light faded away and the sharp
stars came out and the night was still.

Now at sundown of the day that followed, when the Abbot was in the
cave, the young monk, standing among the rocks, saw approaching a woman
who carried a child in her arms; and crossing himself, he cried aloud
to her, "Come not any nearer; turn thy face to the forest, and go down."

"Nay," replied the woman, "for we seek shelter for the night, and food
and the solace of fire for the little one."

"Go down, go down," cried Diarmait; "no woman may come to this
hermitage."

"How canst thou say that, O monk?" said the woman. "Was the Lord Christ
any worse than thou? Christ came to redeem woman no less than to redeem
man. Not less did He suffer for the sake of woman than for the sake of
man. Women gave service and tendance to Him and His Apostles. A woman
it was who bore Him, else had men been left forlorn. It was a man who
betrayed Him with a kiss; and woman it was who washed His feet with
tears. It was a man who smote Him with a reed, but a woman who broke
the alabaster box of precious ointment. It was a man who thrice denied
Him; a woman stood by His cross. It was a woman to whom He first spoke
on Easter morn, but a man thrust his hand into His side and put his
finger in the prints of the nails before he would believe. And not less
than men do women enter the heavenly kingdom. Why, then, shouldst thou
drive my little child and me from thy hermitage and thy hospitality?"

Then Kenach, who had heard all that was said, came forth from the cave,
and blessed the woman. "Well hast thou spoken, O daughter; come, and
bring the small child with thee." And turning to the young monk, he
said, "O soul, O son, O Diarmait, did not God send His Angel out of
high heaven to shelter the mother bird? And was not that, too, a little
woman in feathers? But now hasten, and gather wood and leaves, and
strike fire from the flint, and make a hearth before the cave, that
the woman may rest and the boy have the comfort of the bright flame."

This was soon done, and by the fire sat the woman eating a little
barley bread; but the child, who had no will to eat, came round to the
old man, and held out two soft hands to him. And the Abbot caught him
up from the ground to his breast, and kissed his golden head, saying,
"God bless thee, sweet little son, and give thee a good life and a
happy, and strength of thy small body, and if it be His holy will,
length of glad days; and ever mayest thou be a gladness and deep joy to
thy mother."

Then, seeing that the woman was strangely clad in an outland garb of
red and blue and that she was tall, with a golden-hued skin and olive
eyes, arched, very black eyebrows, aquiline nose, and a rosy mouth, he
said, "Surely O daughter, thou art not of this land of Erinn in the
sea, but art come out of the great world beyond?"

"Indeed, then, we have traveled far," replied the woman; "as thou
sayest, out of the great world beyond. And now the twilight deepens
upon us, and we would sleep."

"Thou shalt sleep safe in the cave, O daughter, but we will rest here
by the embers. My cloak of goat's hair shalt thou have, and such dry
bracken and soft bushes as may be found."

"There is no need," said the woman, "mere shelter is enough," and she
added in a low voice, "Often has my little son had no bed wherein he
might lie."

Then she stretched out her arms to the boy, and once more the little
one kissed the Abbot, and as he passed by Diarmait he put the palms of
his hands against the face of the young monk, and said laughingly, "I
do not think thou hadst any ill-will to us, though thou wert rough and
didst threaten to drive us away into the woods."

And the woman lifted the boy on her arm, and rose and went towards the
cavern; and when she was in the shadow of the rocks she turned towards
the monks beside the fire and said, "My son bids me thank you."

They looked up, and what was their astonishment to see a heavenly glory
shining about the woman and her child in the gloom of the cave. And in
his left hand the child carried a little golden image of the world, and
round his head was a starry radiance, and his right hand was raised in
blessing.

For such a while as it takes the shadow of a cloud to run across a
rippling field of corn, for so long the vision remained; and then it
melted into the darkness, even as a rainbow melts away into the rain.

On his face fell the Abbot, weeping for joy beyond words; but Diarmait
was seized with fear and trembling till he remembered the way in which
the child had pressed warm palms against his face and forgiven him.

The story of these things was whispered abroad, and ever since, in
that part of Erinn in the sea, the mother blackbird is called Kenach's
Little Woman.

And as for the stone on which the fire was lighted in front of the
cave, rain rises quickly from it in mist, and leaves it dry, and snow
may not lie upon it, and even in the dead of winter it is warm to
touch. And to this day it is called the Stone of Holy Companionship.

                                                      --William Canton.

    "W. V.'s Golden Legend" (Dodd, Mead & Co.).


=A Legend of Gapan=

In the early part of December, in the year 1889, a poor man named
Carlos left the town where he lived to go to Gapan, about twenty miles
distant.

Day was beginning to break as Carlos reached the foot of a hill, which
he was just about to climb, when he heard the sound of music. Looking
upward to find whence the sound came, he saw a bright white cloud. From
the center of this cloud shone a ray of light, forming a circle in
which were all the colors of the rainbow.

Carlos could scarcely believe his eyes, till he heard a sweet voice
call his name. He hastened to climb the hill, and at the top found a
very beautiful woman, around whom shone a light that made the stones
and bushes sparkle like gems.

When the man had drawn near, our Blessed Lady--for it was she--told him
that she wished a church to be built on that spot, and bade him go to
Gapan and tell this fact to the priest. On reaching the town, Carlos
went straight to the priest, and related what the Blessed Virgin had
confided to him.

"I believe you," said the priest, "but to be still more certain, ask
her who sends you for some sign by which we may know that she is really
the Mother of God."

Afterwards Carlos went to the spot where the Blessed Mother was
waiting for him. As soon as he saw her, he immediately threw himself at
her feet, and told her what the priest had said. With great tenderness
our Lady bade him come to her the next day, saying she would give him
the sign for which the priest had asked.

Carlos came the next day. "Go now," said the Blessed Virgin, "to the
top of the hill, and gather the roses that are blooming there. Put them
in your handkerchief, and bring them to me; I will tell you what to do
with them."

Though Carlos believed that there were no roses there, he obeyed
without a word. How great, then, was his surprise to find a garden rich
with flowers! Filling his handkerchief with roses, he hurried back to
the Blessed Virgin.

Our Lady took the roses in her pure hands, and letting them drop back
into the handkerchief, said to Carlos, "Present these roses to the
priest, and say that they are the proof of the command I give you. Do
not show any one what you carry, and open your handkerchief only in the
presence of the priest."

Thanking the Blessed Virgin, Carlos started once more for the town.
When he reached the convent and was brought before the priest, he
opened his handkerchief to show the sign that was to prove his words,
and fresh, sweet-smelling roses, wet with dew, fell to the floor, while
on the handkerchief itself appeared a beautiful picture of the Mother
of God.

"The Blessed Virgin is here," said the father, and then he knelt before
the picture and gave praise to God. The miraculous handkerchief was
placed in the church of Gapan, where it remained until a suitable
chapel was built on the very top of the hill, as our Lady desired.

                                                   --Teofilo P. Corpus.


=A Legend of the Incas=

"We will rest here for a time, Uira." The hollow-eyed, tired-looking
youth dismounted from his burro. His companion Uira, a short,
swarthy-skinned Peruvian, turned and gazed down the mountainside whence
they had come, upon the flat roofs of Quito, which seemed like a dream
city, so lovely did the distance make it. "It is beautiful, is it not,
Juan? My home, the home of the Incas, the most ancient city in all the
land?"

"Yes, indeed, it is beautiful, and, Uira, while we rest, you shall
tell me a tale of your people; some pretty legend of the Incas. I
think nothing else would so thoroughly refresh me." Now Juan could by
no exercise of ingenuity have touched a more responsive chord in the
nature of his friend.

"Well, what shall it be, Juan? You have never heard the story of Manca,
have you? It may not be what you would call a pretty legend; yet I
think you would like it," said Uira, readily complying.

"Very well, I know I cannot help but enjoy it," said Juan, as he
settled himself comfortably, with dried leaves for a couch and a tree
stump for a pillow.

"Well," began Uira, his gaze still on the town below them.

"Uira, you're not beginning right; you should say many, many, years
ago." The fine-featured Spanish boy looked mischievously at the stolid
descendant of the Incas.

"You perhaps have heard," went on Uira, discouraging flippancy by
disregarding it, "of the story of Attahualpa; at least you have known
something of it from the histories you have studied; how, before he
died, the mighty Huayan Capar divided his kingdom between his two
sons, Attahualpa and Huascar, half-brothers, giving to Attahualpa
the northern region, Quito, which your geography calls Ecuador; how
Huascar, arrogant in his newly-acquired greatness, demanded tribute
from Quito. You know how Attahualpa angrily refused; how he came at
the head of a great army to the seat of his brother's power, defeated
Huascar, and taking from the conquered man kingdom and freedom, left
him only his life. Then the Spaniards, curses on them all----"

"You forget that I am proud of my Spanish blood, Uira," the lad
interrupted, his cheeks flushing with resentment.

"Ah, yes, Juan, I forgot. Forgive my hasty speech and unintended
insult. But to go on, the Spaniards, mad with lust for gold, marched
with armies legion in number. If you do not know, boy, how many legion
is, look at the tree tops above you; the leaves are countless; they are
legion. The invaders, with the Pizarro at their head, burned our homes,
desecrated our temples, and captured Attahualpa, who, elated with his
conquest, was returning to Quito. The Attahualpa, the records say,
collected in one room and gave the Pizarro the wealth of the Incas; and
your traditions tell you that in fear of his own life, Pizarro put his
captive to death. This is the story of Attahualpa as you have been
taught it.

But I will now tell you what it is given only the few in whose veins
still flows the blood of the Incas to know. Huayan had a daughter
Manca, whose name is not written in the annals. She was sister to
Attahualpa, and in her heart was all the mighty pride of the Incas.
Oh, how she loved the name of her race! How she rejoiced in their
conquests, their prowess! How she delighted to look upon the gold in
the temples, and think that it was all part of the prosperity of her
people! There was a woman, Juan, perhaps not beautiful, I cannot say,
well worthy to bear the name of an Incan.

How she wept when Pizarro, with his Spanish followers, seized
Attahualpa! But do not think that it was for fear that she wept, Juan.
It was for injured pride; for sorrow that she was to lose her dearest
friend, her brother.

But when the loyal girl found that Attahualpa, a ruler, a conqueror
of men, and most of all, an Incan, was bargaining for his life with a
roomful of gold as the price, she prayed to the gods she worshiped, to
take her brother to the spirit world, before he should place this blot
upon the nation. She--heroine that she was--would rather a thousand
times have lost her companion than have had him coward enough to buy
his life thus. Day and night she pondered and prayed, and planned ways
by which she might ward off so awful an outrage against Incan pride.
After a week of despair and vain thought, while Attahualpa was robbing
the shrines of their ornaments to fill the great chamber chosen by the
Spanish general, Manca determined that since she could not by pleading
with Attahualpa or by playing upon his love for his sister or his
country or even for his gods, move him from his purpose, she would at
least save him from himself.

This was Manca's purpose. Perhaps, Juan, I failed to tell you that
Manca bore a very strong resemblance to her brother," and for the first
time Uira looked away from Quito, and glanced questioningly at Juan.
The boy nodded. "Go on," he said, his gaze, too, traveling to the city
of antiquity, where, centuries ago, Manca made her hitherto unrecorded
sacrifice.

"The spirited girl," went on Uira, "realized that when Pizarro had his
booty, his cowardly fear for himself would outweigh his honor, and
cause him to kill his prisoner; and so, when the day came on which
Attahualpa was to open the doors of the treasure-filled chamber,
Attahualpa lay at his home, guarded by servants, who were not to
liberate him till sundown; and Manca, garbed in her brother's clothes,
gave to Pizarro the store of wealth. As she walked home, along a
lonely forest path, she received the poisoned arrow intended for
Attahualpa. He, when he discovered his sister's bravery, slunk off to
the mountains, with never a thought of the rumors which would forever
darken his name. Thus Manca's life, by the sacrifice of which she had
hoped that she might keep bright the fame of her brother, was given
up for the sake of a coward's reputation. By crediting herself with
the surrender of the wealth, she had intended that Attahualpa, though
he had been defeated in battle, should still remain the hero of the
Incas."

There was a pause. The man and the boy both were now staring down at
Ecuador's capital city, whose pillars seemed to be floating in the mist
just rising from Pinchincha's side.

"As you said, it is not a pretty legend. But don't you think, Uira,
that Manca must have been very beautiful?"

                                                   --Dorothea Knoblock.


=The Place of the Red Grass: or, The Invasion of Pangasinan by the
Ilocanos=

Long before the Spaniards discovered the Philippines, there was war in
Luzon among the Pangasinan and Ilocano tribes. Each tribe had powerful
chiefs of remarkable courage and bravery. It was believed that they
were sons of gods, and possessed magical power. Among them was Palaris,
the distinguished chief of the Pangasinanes, and Lumtuad, the skillful
chief of the Ilocanos. These rulers were neighbors and the army of the
one plundered the towns of the other. On account of this reason and
also of the ambition of each to enlarge his dominion, a war broke out.
Lumtuad collected three hundred ships in Laoag, Ilocos Norte. These
ships were loaded with his chosen men armed with bolos, spears, and
bows and arrows. These ships sailed toward the south, and entered the
Gulf of Lingayen, Pangasinan. Palaris and his army went to meet them.

At first, the battle took place on the water. Lumtuad showed his skill
to his enemy. He fought jumping from one ship to another. Unfortunately
he was shot by an arrow and fell into the water. After his death, his
soldiers fought furiously, and drove back the enemy into the town.

When the invading army had landed all its forces, it pursued Palaris's
army as far as Mangaldan, a town fifteen miles from Lingayen. When
Palaris foresaw the future defeat of his army, he escaped into a sugar
field. There by Lumtuad's scouts he was found sleeping. They thrust a
lance through the middle of his body. But Palaris whirled himself free
from the lance, killed some of these soldiers, and pursued the rest
until his last breath was gone. He was then succeeded by his lieutenant
Afilado, and the battle was renewed. Afilado's forces were entirely
defeated and those who survived were killed outright. A river of blood
flowed from the spot where the battle took place, and the grass that
grows there today is red. The place where Palaris was struck was named
after him.

After the war the victorious Ilocanos settled in the province of
Pangasinan; so that now they constitute a greater number in population
than the Pangasinanes themselves.

                                                         --Sixto Guico.


III. The Fairy Tale

[The attitude toward fairy stories]

"From Ghoulies and Ghoosties, long-leggetty Beasties, and Things that
go Bump in the Night, Good Lord, deliver us!" the quaint old litany
pleads, and is probably better representative of the attitude of
primitive peoples toward the extraordinary personages of the sub-world
than is our more modern and debonair view. We have come to look upon a
fairy story as a mental holiday, to enjoy which the narrator and the
listener are off on a picnic. But not so do the unsophisticated folk
think of the events. The grown-up primitive man believes more seriously
in the tricks of goblins and sprites than do our most credulous modern
children. To him, the good or malicious influence of the nunu or
ticbalan is not a fiction, but a reality that must be reckoned with.
Luckily he can reckon with it; for even in the earlier folk tales the
fairies are not generally immortal, and they do not have unlimited
power.

[Fundamental characteristics of fairies]

One chief characteristic that distinguishes these extra-natural beings
from the gods is that the extra-natural are for the most part small and
belong to the under-world. They are not so much superhuman as other
than human. They may be checked or outwitted or even finally overcome.
They have power to tease a man, though not the power utterly to destroy
him. A pixy may cast a spell, but not forever. Jack-o-lantern, or
Will-o-the-wisp, may lead astray into a bog and may hope that his
victim be not a good wader, but the trick and the malicious wish are
the extent of the evil. The victim usually in the end escapes. If he
perishes, he has forgotten his charms or neglects to say his prayers.

There is a somewhat well-fixed literary atmosphere for English fairy
stories and allusions. As we have said, they must have about them the
air of holiday. The English elfin people are a merry folk from the
dainty queen to the clumsiest boggart, and enjoy a bit of fun even at
their own expense,--though, to tell the truth, the joke is usually the
other way.

If you wish to write an original narrative about these charming
creatures, the best way to prepare is to get acquainted with them.
No doubt you know where some of them live. Perhaps only this morning
you chanced upon a forgotten hammock left swinging between two stout
little sprigs of grass where a fairy had slept, or maybe last night
you clearly heard the tinkle of pranckling feet and were too lazy
or indifferent to go to the window to catch a glimpse of a wondrous
sight. I pray you, if you have the chance again, join the masquerade,
remembering only that if Oberon asks you why you are there, you must
speak out frankly. His promise is

  "We fairies never injure men
  Who dare to tell us true."

Oh, yes, one more thing to remember! Leave before cock-crow if you
expect to bring your wits with you.

If you are afraid to try the experiment of original sightseeing and
fear Sir Topas's fate, do the next best thing. Seek out somebody who
has witnessed a fairy revel, or been at a brownies' banquet, has
outtricked a bogie, or propitiated an angry gnome, or, best of all,
likely, has made a little green cloak and hood for the lubber-fiend
of the kitchen hearth, and has seen him fling himself out-of-doors in
high glee to return no more except with good luck. Watchers who have
seen these things, I dare say, will have much to tell you. Get their
narratives.

The Filipino fairies are not so winsome as the English, but they are
far more actual. The English fairies are "but mortals beautifully
masquerading," says Mr. W. B. Yeats. He could find no fault with the
Filipino fairies; for they are potent forces. Like the Irish deenee
shee, the Filipino supernatural beings are thoroughly believed in by
the peasants, and, like the Irish creatures, the Malayan are not always
small, but may be small or large at will. Some of their manifestations
are indeed gruesome; a few are harmless or even helpful; all are very
interesting.

The educated young people of the Philippines have a mission to perform
for the native fairies. It has become the fashion in some places to
frown upon the unseen folk and to attempt to drive them out. The
endeavor is commendable so far as it discriminates. The bad fairies
should go. The wholesome ones should stay. They should stay for the
sake of future native poetry and for the sake of all the little brown
children who love stories.

[Northern fairies and their attributes]

A bare list of the names of fairies and subhuman beings is inspiring.
In the Norse countries there are dwarfs, known also as trolls, kobalds,
goblins, brownies, pucks, or elle-folk. It is said that 'they are
less powerful than gods, but far more intelligent than men; that
their knowledge is boundless and extends even to the future. They can
transport themselves with celerity from one place to another, and love
to hide behind rocks and repeat the last words of every conversation
they overhear. Echoes are known as dwarfs' talk. A Tarnkappe each one
owns, a tiny red cap which makes the wearer invisible. Dwarfs are ruled
by a king spoken of in various northern countries as Andvari, Alberich,
Elbegast, Gondemar, Laurin, or Oberon. He dwells in a magnificent
subterranean palace and owns a magic ring, an invisible sword, and a
belt of strength. His subjects often fashion marvelous weapons and
girdles. In general, dwarfs are kindly and helpful: sometimes they
knead bread, grind flour, brew beer, and perform countless other
household tasks; sometimes they harvest and thresh grain for the
farmers. If ill-treated or turned to ridicule, these little creatures
forsake the house never to come back to it again. Sometimes they take
vengeance by means of changelings. Changelings are the weazened and
puny offspring of the dwarfs which they substitute for unbaptized
children that they steal from people who have offended them. The
dwarfs, envious of the taller stature of the human race, desire to
improve their own, and so consider it good morals thus to make their
enemies their benefactors.'

Fairies, elves, and ariels include all the small creatures who are
fair, good, and useful. They have their dwelling-place, it is said,
'in the airy realm of Alf-heim (home of the light-elves), situated
between heaven and earth, whence they can flit downwards whenever they
please, to attend to the plants and flowers, sport with the birds and
butterflies, or dance in the silvery moonlight on the green.' They have
golden hair, sweet musical voices, and magic harps. These gentle aerial
beings, scholars say, were introduced into Europe by the Crusaders and
the Moors of Spain. Before that time the creatures of the North had
been cold and ungenial, like their heath-clad mountains, chilly lakes,
and piny solitudes; but after the advent of the Peri of the East, who
live in the sun or the rainbow and subsist on the odor of flowers, the
Northern elves took on more winning attributes and finally became
beneficent and beautiful.

Many of the stories in the so-called fairy books are technically
not fairy stories but nursery sagas, as we use the term today; for
instance, most of those in Miss Mulock's "Fairy Book" and the larger
part in the "Blue and the Green Fairy Books." They are English, French,
German, and other _Märchen_ retold. Jean Ingelow's "Mopsa the Fairy"
has a good-sounding title for a typical fairy book, though the material
seems to be literary rather than traditional. Brentano's creatures
in translation surely bear literary names, whatever they have in the
original. Dream-my-Soul and Sir Skip-and-a-Jump are suggestive of
the pen. But Puck of Pook's Hill comes near to being of the solid
traditional Northern type--at least in declaration. He says he is
the oldest Old Thing in England--very much at your service if you
care to have anything to do with him; but, by Oak and Ash and Thorn,
he hates the painty-winged, wand-waving, sugar-and-shake-your-head
set of imposters! He is for Wayland-Smith and magic and the old days
before the Conquest. Charles Kingsley's Madam How and Lady Why are
noble fairies without dispute--really goddesses; yet, strange to say,
they have revealed themselves to a pedagogue and have permitted their
work to be the subject of lectures. Still, they are companionable and
wholesome and none the less marvelous than their more common sisters.
This is an interesting contamination of genres--the pedagogical
narrative combined with the fairy tale. Usually the combination is not
so happily made.

[How to proceed to write a fairy-tale]

If a writer cares to attempt a new "old" fairy tale of the real sort,
he might observe the following more specific suggestions, which were
written out before "Puck of Pook's Hill" came into the hands of the
author of this book, but which happen to express fairly well what might
be deduced as Kipling's procedure. (1) Decide on the country in which
the events are to take place. (2) If you are not already familiar
with that country through the medium of traveling or residence, make
yourself familiar with it by reading. The more you know about the
common people and their superstitions, the better your story will be.
(3) Make lists of names of the good and bad spirits of that country
together with their occupations and powers. (4) From these lists pick
out the being you are going to treat as your chief personage and
clearly define to yourself its relation to the other spirits. (5)
Then weave about this personality a series of events for which it is
directly or indirectly responsible. (6) Be sure to make the fairies
or spirits of the other world the chief actors. If living man comes
in, he must be simply the object to whom they offer their favors or on
whom they play their pranks or wreak their vengeance. It is the doings
of the fairies or of the beings of the extra-natural world that you
must make your reader interested in. (7) If you care to write a weird
fairy tale, select the unpleasant spirits and proceed; but be sure not
to make your story revolting instead of weird. A good weird tale is
the work of a master and pleases because of its art. A horrible story
any bungler can tell. (8) Finally, remember the working definition:
[Summary definition] A fairy tale is a narrative of imaginary events
wherein the chief actors are beings other than man and the gods--beings
who have power to help man or to tease and molest him, but not the
power utterly to destroy him.


PARTIAL LIST OF FAIRIES, GOOD AND BAD, OF DIFFERENT COUNTRIES:

=Northern Fairies=

  Duergar, or Dwerger--Gotho-German dwarfs, dwelling in rocks and
    hills; noted for their strength, subtlety, magical powers, and
    skill in metallurgy. They are personifications of the subterranean
    powers of nature.

  Kobold--a house-spirit in German superstition; same as English Robin
    Goodfellow, or Puck.

  Nick--a water-wraith or Kelpie. There are nicks in sea, lake, river,
    or waterfall. Sometimes represented as half-child, half-horse, the
    hoofs being reversed.

  Nis, or Nisse--a Scandinavian fairy friendly to farm-houses.

  Trolls--similar to Duergar; dwarfs of Northern mythology living
    in hills and mounds. They are represented as stumpy, misshapen,
    humpbacked, inclined to thieving and fond of carrying off children
    or substituting one of their own offspring for that of a human
    mother. They are said to dislike noise very much.

  Stromkarl--a Norwegian musical spirit, like Neck.


=Irish and Scotch Fairies=

  Banshee--domestic Spirit of certain Irish or Highland Scotch
    families; supposed to take an interest in their welfare.

  Boggart (Scotch)--a local hobgoblin or spirit.

  Bogie (Scotch, Welsh, and Irish)--a scarecrow, a goblin.

  Brownie--the house spirit in Scottish superstition. Called in England
    Robin Goodfellow. Farms are his favorite abode.

  Jack-a-lantern--a bog or marsh spirit who delights to mislead.

  Lepracaun, or Leprechaun (Irish)--a fairy shoemaker.


=Filipino Fairies and Other Minor Supernatural Creatures=

The list that follows is necessarily very brief, for every tribe of the
Philippine Islands has its host of mischievous creatures, whose chief
delight is to annoy or frighten men. Others are of a more malignant
nature, however; some cause sickness; some insanity; and occasionally
some cause death, for the Filipinos as well as the Hungarians have
their vampires.

The name of the tribe in which the belief in the spirit is most common
is given in parentheses after the description:

  Salut--the spirits of pestilence in general and cholera in
    particular. They are described as tall, thin persons dressed in
    flowing black robes, who walk the streets at night and knock at the
    doors of the houses to which they wish to carry death. (Tagalog,
    Pampango, Bicol.)

  Matanda sa punso--a little old man who lives in a mound of earth. He
    loves children, and is willing to help those who respect him and
    his house. (Tagalog.)

  Lampong--a tall harmless creature with a horse's head and feet but
    a man's body. He lives in the woods, can travel very rapidly, and
    is deathly afraid of a rosary. He possesses some magic power.
    (Pangasinan.)

  Camana--an evil spirit that lives in gloomy places. It can assume the
    form of any small animal, or can make itself invisible. If a person
    who comes across the camana does not propitiate it with food or
    something entertaining, he will become sick; and he can be cured
    only by an old woman who is a manganito. (Parts of Zambales.)

  Patianak--Accounts about patianak are very contradictory. It is most
    commonly believed, however, to be a mischievous fairy that assumes
    the form of a small child and misleads travelers at night. It has a
    mirthful laugh that is very attractive. The only way for the victim
    to drive the fairy away and to find the right road is for him to
    take off his coat and wear it inside out. (Tagalog and Bicol.)

  Mamamarang--a sorceress who fights with travelers in lonely places
    and tries to kill them that she may eat them. (Visayan.)

  Managbatu--a spirit in the form of a man, which lives in trees and at
    midnight throws stones and clods at the houses near his dwelling.
    He can cause sickness to those that try to injure him. (Cagayan.)

  Cafre--an enormous black man that smokes long cigars. He does very
    little harm, but delights in frightening people. Some say he can
    transform himself into almost anything from a pig to a ball of
    fire. He appears only at night, of course. (Pampango, Tagalog,
    Bicol.)

  Tigbalang--a demon who lives in trees, especially the baliti tree.
    His body is covered with long hair and one of his feet is a horse's
    hoof. His chief delight is to lead people astray and make them
    crazy, or to ravage banana plantations, to empty water jars, shake
    houses, and disturb people generally. (Tagalog.)

  Tigabulak--a demon who in the form of an old man entices children
    with candy and cakes. After he has led them far from home, he puts
    them in a sack and carries them to his dwelling. Then he kills them
    and makes money out of their blood. (Tagalog.)

  Caibaan--little mischievous field spirits who play tiny guitars.
    They steal dishes and hide them, and indulge in other pranks.
    (Pangasinan and Ilocano.)


=Russian Fairies and Witches=

  Domovoy--the Russian brownie that lives behind the stove. If he is
    neglected, he waxes wroth and knocks the tables and benches around
    at night.

  Baba-yaga--an ogress who lives on the edge of the forest, in a hut
    built so as to turn with the wind like a weathercock.

  Rusalki--water sprites.

  Vodianoi--river genii.

  Lieshii and the Liesnik--forest demons.

  Vampires--ghosts who steal by night from their tombs, and suck the
    blood of the living during their sleep.


=Arabian Fairies and Witches=

  Jinn--a sort of fairies of Arabian mythology--the offspring of fire.
    (The singular of jinn is jinnee.)

  Afreet--a sort of Arabian ghoul or demon--the epitome of what is
    terrible and monstrous in Arabian superstition.

  Peri (plural of Peris)--Peri are delicate, gentle, fairy-like beings
    of Eastern mythology, begotten by fallen spirits. With a wand they
    direct the pure in mind the way to heaven.


=Miscellaneous Fairies and Other Supernatural Creatures=

  Esprit Follet--the house-spirit of France.

  Familiar spirit--a spirit or demon supposed to be summoned by a
    necromancer or a soothsayer from the unseen world to attend upon
    him as a servant.

  Fay--the French word for fairy, anglicised.

  Gnome--one of a fabulous race of dwarfed and misshapen earth-spirits
    or goblins, reputed to be special guardians of mines and miners.
    (