Then he let out a great sigh of relief and began to say, "Young master, this is the story...." And the old servant recounted all the whispers that he had heard coming from the old bag on the kitchen wall.
That is why when stories are heard they must never be stored away to become mean and spiteful, but must always be shared with other people. In this way, they are passed from one person to another so that as many people as possible can enjoy them.
There once lived in the same forest a pheasant, a dove, and a magpie. One year the crops failed, and there was nothing for the three of them to eat. "What shall we do? How can we live through this cold winter?" The three talked over their problems and finally decided to call on a mouse who also lived in the same forest. "Surely," they said, "the mouse will have some rice and will share it with us." They decided that the pheasant would go first to see the mouse.
The pheasant was always a proud bird and till then had looked down on the lowly mouse. So, when he came to the home of the mouse, he spoke rudely out of habit.
"Hey there!" the pheasant said haughtily, "where are you? This is the great pheasant. Bring me some food."
Mrs. Mouse was in the kitchen at the back of the house, feeding fuel to her kitchen stove. When she heard the disdainful words of the pheasant, she became very angry. She flew out of the kitchen, a red-hot poker in her hand, and began hitting the pheasant on both his cheeks.
"What's the idea of speaking in such a manner when you have come begging for food. Even if we had rice to throw away, we wouldn't give you any."
Rubbing his red and swollen cheeks, the pheasant ran home in great shame. That is why, to this day, the pheasant's cheeks are red.
Next the dove went to the mouse's home. He, too, was a very proud bird and looked down on the mouse.
"Say, you rice thief! I've come for a bit of food," he said in a rude and haughty manner.
Mrs. Mouse became angry again when she heard the dove speak so rudely. She ran out of her kitchen with a poker in her hand and hit the dove a good blow on the top of his head.
Ever since then, the top of a dove's head has always been blue. It is the bruise that was caused by Mrs. Mouse and her poker.
Lastly, the magpie went to get some food. The magpie knew too well what had happened to his two friends, the pheasant and the dove. He did not want to repeat their mistakes, so he decided to be very, very careful how he spoke.
As soon as he reached the front door of Mr. Mouse's home, he bowed humbly and spoke as politely as possible. "My dear Mr. Mouse," he said, "we have had an extremely poor harvest and I am hungry. Can you not spare me a little food?"
Mr. Mouse came to the front door. "Well, Mr. Magpie, I won't say I shan't give you anything. But aren't you a crony of the pheasant and the dove? If you are, I will certainly have nothing to do with you."
"Oh no, Mr. Mouse," said the magpie, "absolutely not. I've never even heard of them. "In that case, come in," the mouse said, believing what the magpie told him. The mouse then gave the magpie some rice to take home.
On top of all this, Mrs. Mouse, her good mood restored, said, "Mr. Magpie, you certainly are a refined gentleman. Even your language is different from the rest. You must have had a very good upbringing."
And so, to this day, the magpie is known for his cunning and slyness.
Away in the country there once lived a long-established family of farmers. There was an only daughter in the family, who had just married. As is the custom in such cases, the bridegroom came to live with his in-laws, for he was to continue the family name.
A few days after the marriage it so happened that the bridegroom had to go to town on some business. As he prepared to leave, his bride asked him, "Will you please buy me a comb in town?"
"Why, of course," he answered, all eager to please his pretty bride.
However, his wife knew that her husband was a very forgetful man. Hadn't both her mother-in-law and father-in-law told her so?
As she was wondering how he could be made to remember, she chanced to look at the sky. There was a new moon, a thin crescent of pale light, shining softly in the sky. It was only three days old, and it looked just like the moon-shaped comb she wanted.
"There," she called to her husband, "look at the moon. Doesn't it look just like a comb? If you forget what you must buy, just remember to look into the sky. The moon will remind you that I want a comb. You will remember, won't you?"
This she repeated again and again, and after she was sure he would remember, she said goodbye to him.
The bridegroom was soon in town. He was so taken up with his business that he completely forgot about his wife's comb. Several days later, his work finished, he packed his belongings and prepared to return home. As he looked around to see if he had forgotten anything, he happened to look out the window, and there he saw a big, round moon shining in the sky. Ten days had passed since he had left home. The moon was no longer a small sliver of light but a round, laughing globe of silver.
The moon suddenly reminded him of his wife's parting words. "Oh, I almost forgot," he told himself. "There was something like the moon I had to buy for my wife. Now, I wonder what it was?"
Try as he might, he could not remember. He knew that it had something to do with the moon—but what? His memory was a blank. "Was it something round like the moon?" he asked himself, "or was it something that shone like the moon?" But not for the life of him could he recall what it was.
"Well," he said at last, "I might as well go to a shop and ask for help"
So the young farmer entered a shop and said, "Good day, Mr. Shopkeeper. Please give me something that looks like the moon, something a woman uses."
The shopkeeper laughed at this strange request. Then he looked around at the goods on his shelf, and his eyes lighted on a small, round hand mirror.
"Oh, I know," the shopkeeper said. "This must be what you want. Look, it's round and looks just like the full moon. You look into it and you can see yourself. A young bride would want it when she pretties herself. I am sure it could be nothing else."
Now, the bridegroom had never seen a mirror before, as they were very rare then. But he thought that surely his wife, the daughter of a rich old farming family, would know what it was. "Yes, this must be what my wife asked me to get," he answered, proud that he could get what his wife wanted.
Soon he was back home in the country again. As soon as he entered the house, his wife asked, "Did you remember to do my shopping for me?"
"Yes," he answered. "Here." And he handed her what he had bought.
The bride, expecting to receive a comb, wondered at the strange round object her husband handed her. She peered into the smooth glass. And what should she see there but the reflection