Pokrewne

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[heft] Perry Rhodan Neo 006 D Borsch, Frank
Clifton, Mark und Riley, Frank Computer der Unsterblichkeit (H
Casa capitular Dune Frank Herbert
Dokter.Powes.vlucht.Frank.G.Sla
Czar milosci Dorotea Benton Frank
Chapterhouse, Dune Frank Herbert
Duin.Messias.Frank.Herbert
Dzieci Diuny Frank Herbert
Dubbelspel.Frank.Martinus.Arion
Celeste Ealain .Die.verschollen

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.So he set off to find the birds.They had flown a long distance, but it was nothing to Popopo to reach them in a second, and he discovered them sitting upon the branches of a big chestnut tree and singing gayly.When they saw the knook the birds cried:"Thank you, Popopo.Thank you for setting us free.""Do not thank me," returned the knook, "for I have come to send you back to the millinery shop.""Why?" demanded a blue jay, angrily, while the others stopped their songs."Because I find the woman considers you her property, and your loss has caused her much unhappiness," answered Popopo."But remember how unhappy we were in her glass case," said a robin redbreast, gravely."And as for being her property, you are a knook, and the natural guardian of all birds; so you know that Nature created us free.To be sure, wicked men shot and stuffed us, and sold us to the milliner; but the idea of our being her property is nonsense!"Popopo was puzzled."If I leave you free," he said, "wicked men will shoot you again, and you will be no better off than before.""Pooh!" exclaimed the blue jay, "we cannot be shot now, for we are stuffed.Indeed, two men fired several shots at us this morning, but the bullets only ruffled our feathers and buried themselves in our stuffing.We do not fear men now.""Listen!" said Popopo, sternly, for he felt the birds were getting the best of the argument; "the poor milliner’s business will be ruined if I do not return you to her shop.It seems you are necessary to trim the hats properly.It is the fashion for women to wear birds upon their headgear.So the poor milliner’s wares, although beautified by lace and ribbons, are worthless unless you are perched upon them.""Fashions," said a black bird, solemnly, "are made by men.What law is there, among birds or knooks, that requires us to be the slaves of fashion?""What have we to do with fashions, anyway?" screamed a linnet."If it were the fashion to wear knooks perched upon women’s hats would you be contented to stay there? Answer me, Popopo!"But Popopo was in despair.He could not wrong the birds by sending them back to the milliner, nor did he wish the milliner to suffer by their loss.So he went home to think what could be done.After much meditation he decided to consult the king of the knooks, and going at once to his majesty he told him the whole story.The king frowned."This should teach you the folly of interfering with earth people," he said."But since you have caused all this trouble, it is your duty to remedy it.Our birds cannot be enslaved, that is certain; therefore you must have the fashions changed, so it will no longer be stylish for women to wear birds upon their hats.""How shall I do that?" asked Popopo."Easily enough.Fashions often change among the earth people, who tire quickly of any one thing.When they read in their newspapers and magazines that the style is so-and-so, they never question the matter, but at once obey the mandate of fashion.So you must visit the newpapers and magazines and enchant the types.""Enchant the types!" echoed Popopo, in wonder."Just so.Make them read that it is no longer the fashion to wear birds upon hats.That will afford relief to your poor milliner and at the same time set free thousands of our darling birds who have been so cruelly used."Popopo thanked the wise king and followed his advice.The office of every newpaper and magazine in the city was visited by the knook, and then he went to other cities, until there was not a publication in the land that had not a "new fashion note" in its pages.Sometimes Popopo enchanted the types, so that whoever read the print would see only what the knook wished them to.Sometimes he called upon the busy editors and befuddled their brains until they wrote exactly what he wanted them to.Mortals seldom know how greatly they are influenced by fairies, knooks and ryls, who often put thoughts into their heads that only the wise little immortals could have conceived.The following morning when the poor milliner looked over her newspaper she was overjoyed to read that "no woman could now wear a bird upon her hat and be in style, for the newest fashion required only ribbons and laces."Popopo after this found much enjoyment in visiting every millinery shop he could find and giving new life to the stuffed birds which were carelessly tossed aside as useless.And they flew to the fields and forests with songs of thanks to the good knook who had rescued them.Sometimes a hunter fires his gun at a bird and then wonders why he did not hit it.But, having read this story, you will understand that the bird must have been a stuffed one from some millinery shop, which cannot, of course, be killed by a gun.6.The Laughing HippopotamusOn one of the upper branches of the Congo river lived an ancient and aristocratic family of hippopotamuses, which boasted a pedigree dating back beyond the days of Noah—beyond the existence of mankind—far into the dim ages when the world was new.They had always lived upon the banks of this same river, so that every curve and sweep of its waters, every pit and shallow of its bed, every rock and stump and wallow upon its bank was as familiar to them as their own mothers.And they are living there yet, I suppose.Not long ago the queen of this tribe of hippopotamuses had a child which she named Keo, because it was so fat and round.Still, that you may not be misled, I will say that in the hippopotamus language "Keo," properly translated, means "fat and lazy" instead of fat and round.However, no one called the queen’s attention to this error, because her tusks were monstrous long and sharp, and she thought Keo the sweetest baby in the world.He was, indeed, all right for a hippopotamus.He rolled and played in the soft mud of the river bank, and waddled inland to nibble the leaves of the wild cabbage that grew there, and was happy and contented from morning till night.And he was the jolliest hippopotamus that ancient family had ever known.His little red eyes were forever twinkling with fun, and he laughed his merry laugh on all occasions, whether there was anything to laugh at or not.Therefore the black people who dwelt in that region called him "Ippi"—the jolly one, although they dared not come anigh him on account of his fierce mother, and his equally fierce uncles and aunts and cousins, who lived in a vast colony upon the river bank.And while these black people, who lived in little villages scattered among the trees, dared not openly attack the royal family of hippopotamuses, they were amazingly fond of eating hippopotamus meat whenever they could get it.This was no secret to the hippopotamuses.And, again, when the blacks managed to catch these animals alive, they had a trick of riding them through the jungles as if they were horses, thus reducing them to a condition of slavery.Therefore, having these things in mind, whenever the tribe of hippopotamuses smelled the oily odor of black people they were accustomed to charge upon them furiously, and if by chance they overtook one of the enemy they would rip him with their sharp tusks or stamp him into the earth with their huge feet.It was continual warfare between the hippopotamuses and the black people.Gouie lived in one of the little villages of the blacks.He was the son of the chief’s brother and grandson of the village sorcerer, the latter being an aged man known as the "the boneless wonder," because he could twist himself into as many coils as a serpent and had no bones to hinder his bending his flesh into any position.This made him walk in a wabbly fashion, but the black people had great respect for him [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]