Santa Devoured by Voracious School of Pirhana!

On Thursday, December 10th, as Santa Claus was attempting to catch some fish to sell at the market as supplemental income, he accidentally waded into a pack of hungry piranhas. They mistook his red suit and portly figure for a side of fresh beef and began to gorge on his ample flesh in a feeding frenzy of never-before documented epic proportions. The other three fishermen there made it out of the water with only minor injuries.

"My God it was just horrible!" exclaimed one of the men as he was vainly trying to wipe the blood stains from his jersey.

"The worst thing I have ever witnessed in my entire life", said another who was a decorated Viet Nam veteran. "They were upon the poor guy before he even had a chance to cry a single 'Ho'. I saw a lot of death and destruction back in the jungles of Nam, but this! I don't know if I want to go to sleep tonight."

"If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes I wouldn't have believed it. My goodness, is nothing sacred these days?" wept an 87-year-old grandmother.

"Once they got a taste of him they just kept coming and coming. First they ripped the beard right off his face, then they went directly for his crotch and that big butt of his. Next his hat went flying and bits and pieces of flesh would bubble up to the surface, and then disappear again. Finally there was nothing left but a dark red patch of blood on the surface of the water. It was so awesome: even better than the new Nintendo games. I ain't never seen nothing like it before in my life; not even on TV." exclaimed one teenager.

In this day and age of recession, falling markets, cutbacks, heavy restructuring and early forced retirements everyone is feeling the pinch. People are buying less and less and hanging onto their money. Families are spending less on gifts for their kids for birthdays, Christmas, etc. Christmas Inc. had to close down several of its factories, which resulted in many of the worker-elves receiving pink slips.

Our roving reporter was able to get an interview with the spokesman for the Union of Elves who responded with this: "He had it comin' the fat ol faggot did. Livin' high on the hog while we worked our asses off for him day in, day out in the worst possible conditions. And for what? Snowballs! Yer buggered if you work fer 'im and yer buggered if ya don't. I just wish I could have been there to see it. We all do. But what can you do? A job is a job and we all have family to feed so you make do with what ye cn get yer hands on. And Master Nick certainly did his fair shair of ['hands on']. I shouldn't complain too much; we had it way better than them poor reindeer. Always lookin' over their shoulders they was. Never knew when he would slip in unannounced." The reindeer were unavailable for comment.

With the majority of the elves gone, orders for toys dwindling to next to nothing and the books slipping into the red, Santa was forced to look for supplemental income. One employee at Manpower (who will remain nameless) informed us Santa was coming in regularly to his station and constantly looking for work. "He seemed so desperate. I did the best I could and found him something in the chimney sweep industry but well, it isn't that easy when you don't have any marketable skills."

An employee of a trucking firm where Santa had worked briefly said, "We were reluctant to hire him in the beginning but thought that we ought to give him a chance. It was OK for the first week or so but then he got stopped by the police and arrested for drunk driving and lost his license. We just couldn't keep him after that."

Finally "The Jolly Old Elf" ended up working the docks, hoping that he could land a job as a night worker aboard the squid boats. Often he would be seen slinging his nets in those places that other seafarers quickly learned to avoid: the danger zones, as they are known in the industry. "He had guts, that's fer sure", said one old salt through a mouth full of rotten teeth. "And the piranhas got dem guts fer dinner they did! Hardee har har!"

We have just recently learned through speaking to Dr. Bobby Wong, Santa's personal psychiatrist that he had a serious confidence problem to go along with an eating disorder. "Sata worried a lot about what people thought of him and quite often he lacked the confidence to go out in public alone. "Once, many years ago, I gave him a phrase to repeat to himself in order to build his self-confidence. I told him to say, "Ho Ho Ho" (Cantonese for "I'm very very fine") whenever he felt like he was going to lose it. I heard he used it a lot and it seemed to help somewhat. In that I am glad. We will miss him."

Santa Claus may have had his downside, his darkness, but he lit the way for many children around the world and in that will be always remembered. The light that he brought to many a family, the millions of chimneys that he selflessly cleaned his way through will not soon be forgotten.

"The funniest thing about Santa, was that he always hated winter. Never liked the cold. Had low blood pressure and constantly complained about chilblains in his hands and feet. But that never kept him from giving it his all." said Mrs. Claus as she was climbing the stairs of her private Lear jet.

A memorial service will be held on December 25th at the Jolly Old Elf Pub in the Gold Coast, Australia.

The Old Man Who Made Trees Blossom

ONCE upon a time there was a very kind old man and his wife living in a certain village. Next door to them lived a very mean old man and his wife. The kind old couple had a little white dog named Shiro. They loved Shiro very much and always gave him good things to eat. But the mean old man hated dogs, and every time he saw Shiro he threw stones at him.　

One day Shiro began barking very loudly out in the farmyard. The kind old man went out to see what was the matter. Shiro kept barking and barking and began digging in the ground. "Oh, you want me to help you dig?" asked the old man. So he brought a spade and began digging. Suddenly his spade hit something hard. He kept digging and found a large pot full of many pieces of gold money. Then he thanked I Shiro very much for leading him to so much gold, and took the money to his house.

Now the mean old man had been peeping and had seen all this. He wanted some gold too. So the next day he asked the kind old man if he could borrow Shiro for a little while. "Why, of course you may borrow Shiro, if he'll be of any help to you," said the kind old man.

The mean old man took Shiro to his house and out into his field.

"Now find me some gold too," he ordered the dog, "or I'll beat you." So Shiro began digging at a certain spot. Then the mean old man tied Shiro up and began digging himself. But all he found in the hole was some terrible smelling garbage-no gold at all. This made him so angry that he hit Shiro over the head with his spade, and killed him.

The kind old man and woman were very sad about Shiro. They buried him in their field and planted a little pine tree over his grave. And every day they went to Shiro's grave and watered the pine tree very carefully. The tree began to grow very fast, and in only few years it became very big. The kind old woman said: "Remember how Shiro used to love to eat rice-cakes? Let's cut down that big pine tree and make a mortar. Then with the mortar we'll make some rice-cakes in memory of Shiro."

So the old man cut down the tree and made a mortar out of its trunk.

Then they filled it full of steamed rice and began pounding the rice to make rice-cakes. But no sooner did the old man began pounding than all the rice turned into gold! Now the kind old man and woman were richer than ever.

The mean old man had been peeping through the window and had seen the rice turn to gold. He still wanted some gold for himself very badly. So the next day he came and asked if he could borrow the mortar. "Why, of course you may borrow the mortar," said the kind old man.

The mean old man took the mortar home and filled it full of steamed rice. "Now watch," he said to his wife. "When I begin pounding this rice, it'll turn to gold." But when he began pounding, the rice turned to terrible smelling garbage, and there was no gold at all. This made him so angry that he got his ax and cut the mortar up into small pieces and burned it up in the stove.

When the kind old man went to get his mortar back, it was all burned to ashes. He was very sad, because the mortar had reminded him of Shiro. So he asked for some of the ashes and took them home with him.

It was the middle of winter and all the trees were bare. He thought he'd scatter some of the ashes around in his garden. When he did, all the cherry trees in the garden suddenly began to bloom right in the middle of winter. Everybody came to see this wonderful sight, and the prince who lived in a nearby castle heard about it.

Now this prince had a cherry tree in his garden that he loved very much. He could hardly wait for spring to come so he could see the beautiful blossoms on this cherry tree. But when spring came he discovered that the tree was dead and he felt very sad. So he sent for the kind old man and asked him to bring the tree back to life. The old man took some of the ashes and climbed the tree. Then he threw the ashes up into the dead branches, and almost more quickly than you can think, the tree was covered with the most beautiful blossoms it had ever had.

The prince had come on horseback to watch and he was very pleased.

He gave the kind old man a great deal of gold and many presents. And, best of all, he knighted the old man and gave him a new name, "Sir Old-Man-Who-Makes-Trees-Blossom."

Sir Old-Man-Who-Makes-Trees-Blossom and his wife were now very rich, and they lived very happily for many more years.

O-Jizo san, The Grateful Statues

ONCE upon a time an old man and an old woman were living in a country village in Japan. They were very poor and spent every day weaving big hats out of straw. Whenever they finished a number of hats, the old man would take them to the nearest town to sell them.

One day the old man said to the old woman: "New Year's is the day after tomorrow. How I wish we had some rice-cakes to eat on New Year's Day! Even one or two little cakes would be enough. Without some rice-cakes we can't even celebrate New Year's."

"Well, then," said the old woman, "After you've sold these hats, why don't you buy some rice-cakes and bring them back with you?"

So early the next morning the old man took the five new hats that they had made, and went to town to sell them. But after he got to town he was unable to sell a single hat. And to make things still worse, it began to snow very hard.

The old man was very sad as he began trudging wearily back toward his village. He was going along a lonesome mountain trail when he suddenly came upon a row of six stone statues of Jizo, the protector of children, all covered with snow.

"My, my! Now isn't this a pity," the old man said. "These are only stone statues of Jizo, but even so just think how cold they must be standing here in the snow."

"I know what I'll do!" the old man suddenly said to himself. "This will be just the thing."
So he unfastened the five new hats from his back and began tying them, one by one, on the heads of the Jizo statues.

When he came to the last statue he suddenly realized that all the hats were gone. "Oh, my!" he said, "I don't have enough hats." But then he remembered his own hat. So he took it off his head and tied it on the head of the last Jizo. Then he went on his way home.

When he reached his house the old woman was waiting for him by the fire. She took one look at him and cried: "You must be frozen half to death. Quick! Come to the fire. What did you do with your hat?"

The old man shook the snow out of his hair and came to the fire. He told the old woman how he had given all the new hats, and even his own hat, to the six stone Jizo. He told her he was sorry that he hadn't been able to bring any rice-cakes.

"My! That was a very kind thing you did for the Jizo," said the old woman. She was very proud of the old man, and went on: "It's better to do a kind thing like that than to have all the rice-cakes in the world. We'll get along without any rice-cakes for New Year's."

By this time it was late at night, so the old man and woman went to bed. And just before dawn, while they were still asleep, a very wonderful thing happened. Suddenly there was the sound of voices in the distance, singing:

"A kind old man walking in the snow
Gave all his hats to the stone Jizo.
So we bring him gifts with a yo-heave-ho!"

The voices came nearer and nearer, and then you could hear the sound of footsteps on the snow.

The sounds came right up to the house where the old man and woman were sleeping. And then all at once there was a great noise, as though something had been put down just in front of the house.

The old couple jumped out of bed and ran to the front door. When they opened it, what do you suppose they found? Well, right there at the door someone had spread a straw mat, and arranged very neatly on the mat was one of the biggest and most beautiful and freshest rice-cakes the old people had ever seen.

"Whoever could have brought us such a wonderful gift?" they said, and looked about wonderingly.

They saw some tracks in the snow leading away from their house. The snow was all tinted with the colors of dawn, and there in the distance, walking over the snow, were the .six stone Jizo, still wearing the hats which the old man had given them.

The old man said: "It was the stone Jizo who brought this wonderful rice-cake to us."

The old woman said: "You did them a kind favor when you gave them your hats, so they brought this rice-cake to show their gratitude.

The old couple had a very wonderful New Year's Day celebration after all, because now they had this wonderful rice-cake to eat.

The Spiderweaver

LONG ago there was a young farmer named Yosaku. One day he was working in the fields and saw a snake getting ready to eat a spider. Yosaku felt very sorry for the spider. So he ran at the snake with his hoe and drove the snake away, thus saving the spider's life. Then the spider disappeared into the grass, but first it seemed to pause a minute and bow in thanks toward Yosaku.

One morning not long after that, Yosaku was in his house when he heard a tiny voice outside calling: "Mr. Yosaku, Mr. Yosaku." He went to the door and saw a beautiful young girl standing in the yard.

"I heard that you are looking for someone to weave cloth for you," said the girl. "Won't you please let me live here and weave for you?"

Yosaku was very pleased because he did need a weaving girl. So he showed the girl the weaving room and she started to work at the loom. At the end of the day Yosaku went to see what she'd done and was very surprised to find that she'd woven eight long pieces of cloth, enough to make eight kimono. He'd never known anyone could weave so much in just a single day.

"However did you weave so much?" he asked the girl.

But instead of answering him, she said a very strange thing: "You mustn't ask me that. And you must never come into the weaving room while I am at work."

But Yosaku was very curious. So one day he slipped very quietly up to the weaving room and peeped in the window. What he saw really surprised him! Because it was not the girl who was seated at the loom, but a large spider, weaving very fast with its eight legs, and for thread it was using its own spider web, which came out of its mouth.
　
Yosaku looked very closely and saw that it was the same spider which he'd saved from the snake. Then Yosaku understood. The spider had been so thankful that it had wanted to do something to help Yosaku. So it had turned itself into a beautiful young girl and come to weave cloth for him. Just by eating the cotton in the weaving room it could spin it into thread inside its own body, and then with its eight legs it could weave the thread into cloth very, very fast.

Yosaku was very grateful for the spider's help. He saw that the cotton was almost used up. So next morning he set out for the nearest village, on the other side of the mountains, to buy some more cotton. He bought a big bundle of cotton and started home, carrying it on his back.

Along the way a very terrible thing happened. Yosaku sat down to rest, and the same snake that he'd driven away from the spider came up and slipped inside the bundle of cotton. But Yosaku didn't know anything about this. So he carried the cotton home and gave it to the weaving girl.
　
She was very glad to get the cotton, because she'd now used up all the cotton that was left. So she took it and went to the weaving room.

As soon as the girl was inside the weaving room she turned back into a spider and began eating the cotton very, very fast, just as though it were something very delicious, so she could spin it into thread inside her body. The spider ate and ate and ate, and then suddenly, when it had eaten down to the bottom of the bundle-the snake jumped out of the cotton. It opened its mouth wide to swallow the spider. The spider was very frightened and jumped out of the window. The snake went wriggling very fast after it. And the spider had eaten so much cotton that it couldn't run very fast. So the snake gradually caught up with the spider. Again the snake opened its mouth wide to gulp the spider. down.
　
　
But just then a wonderful thing happened.

Old Man Sun, up in the sky, had been watching what was happening. He knew how kind the spider had been to Yosaku and he felt very sorry for the poor little spider. So he reached down with a sunbeam and caught hold of the end of the web that was sticking out of the spider's mouth, and he lifted the spider high up into the sky, where the snake couldn't reach it at all.

The spider was very grateful to Old Man Sun for saving him from the snake. So he used all the cotton that was inside his body to weave beautiful fleecy clouds up in the sky. That's the reason, they say, why clouds are soft and white like cotton, and also that is the reason why both a spider and a cloud are called by the same name in Japan-kumo.

The Toothpick Warriors

ONCE upon a time there was a princess who had a very bad habit. She would lie in bed at night and pick her teeth with a toothpick. That wasn't so bad, but after she was done, instead of throwing the toothpick away as she should have, she would stick it between the straw mats that make the floor of a Japanese house and upon which the princess slept. Now, this was not a very clean habit, and since the princess did this every night the cracks between the mats were soon filled with used toothpicks.

One night she was suddenly awakened by the noise of fighting. She heard the voices of warriors and the sound of swords. Frightened, she sat up and lit the lamp beside her bed. She was so surprised by what she saw that she could hardly believe her eyes:

There, right beside her quilts, were many tiny little warriors. Some were fighting, some were singing, some were dancing, and all were making a great deal of noise.

The princess thought that she must be dreaming, so she pinched herself. But, no, she was wide awake, and the tiny warriors were still there making a terrible racket. They made so much noise that she couldn't sleep at all that night, and when she did manage to doze off, she suddenly woke up because it was so quiet. The tiny warriors had left.

She was very afraid, but she was ashamed to tell the lord, her father, because he probably wouldn't have believed her. Yet, next night when she went to bed, the same thing happened again, and the night after that too.

The tiny warriors made so much noise every night that she couldn't sleep, and each day the princess became a little paler than the day before. Soon she became very ill from lack of sleep.

Her father kept asking her what the matter was, and finally she told him. At first he didn't believe her, but finally he decided to see for himself. He told her that she should sleep in his room and he would stand watch in hers.

And so he did. But though he remained awake all night long and watched and waited, the tiny warriors did not come. While waiting, however, he noticed the many toothpicks lying about on the floor. He looked very carefully at the toothpicks and finally discovered what had been happening.

Next day he called his daughter to him and showed her one of the toothpicks. Its sides were all scarred and cut. The marks were so very tiny that the princess could just barely see them. She asked her father what the marks meant.

Her father explained that the tiny warriors had come to her room because she left toothpicks lying around. They had no swords of their own and wanted some very much. Now, for-a tiny warrior, a toothpick made the best possible kind of sword, and that was the reason they came every night.

They hadn't come last night, he said, because he was there with a real sword, and they were afraid. Then he looked at his daughter sternly and asked her why there were so many used toothpicks in her room.

The princess was very ashamed of her bad habit but admitted that she had used the toothpicks and stuck them between the cracks of the mats because she was too lazy to get up and throw them away properly. She also said she was very, very sorry and promised that she would never, never be so lazy again.

Then she picked up all the toothpicks, even those that were at the very bottom of the cracks, and threw them all away. That night the warriors did not come because there were no tiny swords for them. And they never came again.

Soon the princess became healthy again because the warriors no longer kept her awake. She became very neat about everything, and pleased her father greatly by even sweeping the garden every day. She never forgot the tiny warriors, and if she ever used a toothpick again, you may be sure she was very careful to throw it away properly.

The Rabbit in the Moon

Once the Old-Man-of-the-Moon looked down into a big forest on the earth. He saw a rabbit and a monkey and a fox all living there together in the forest as very good friends.

"Now, I wonder which of them is the kindest," he said to himself. "I think I'll go down and see."

So the old man changed himself into a beggar and came down from the moon to the forest where the three animals were.

"Please help me," he said to them. "I'm very hungry."

"Oh! What a poor old beggar!" they said, and then they went hurrying off to find some food for the beggar.

The monkey brought a lot of fruit. And the fox caught a big fish. But the rabbit couldn't find anything at all to bring.

"Oh my! oh my! what shall I do?" the rabbit cried. But just then he got an idea.

"Please, Mr. Monkey," the rabbit said, "you gather some firewood for me. And you, Mr. Fox, please make a big fire with the wood."

They did as the rabbit asked, and when the fire was burning very brightly, the rabbit said to the beggar: "I don't have anything to give you. So I'll put myself in this fire, and then when I'm cooked you can eat me."

The rabbit was about to jump into the fire and cook himself. But just then the beggar suddenly changed himself back into the Old-Man-of-the-Moon.

"You are very kind, Mr. Rabbit," the Old Man said. "But you should never do anything to harm yourself. Since you are the kindest, of all, I'll take you home to live with me."

Then the Old-Man-of-the-Moon took the rabbit in his arms and carried him up to the moon. Just look and see! If you look carefully at the moon when it is shining brightly, you can still see the rabbit thee where the Old Man put him so very long ago.

Issun Boshi - Little One-Inch

There was once a married couple who had no children. One day they went to a shrine and prayed, saying: "Oh, please give us a child. We want a child so very badly." On their way home they heard a tiny crying sound coming from a clump of grass. They looked in the grass, and there they found a tiny little baby boy, wrapped in a bright red blanket. "This is the child that has come in answer to our prayers," they said. So they took the little baby home with them and raised him as their own son.

Now this baby boy was so tiny that he wasn't as large as a person's thumb, and even as he grew older he stayed the same size. he was just about an inch tall, so they named him Little One-Inch.

One day, when he had grown older, Little One-Inch said to his parents: "I thank you very much for raising me so carefully. But now I must go out into the world and make my fortune."

They tried to keep him from going, saying he was too tiny to go out into the world. But he insisted, so finally his parents said: "All right, we'll get you ready for the journey." So they gave him a needle to use as a sword, a wooden bowl to use as a boat, and a chopstick to use as an oar.

Little One-Inch got in his boat and waved goodbye to his parents, promising to come back when he'd made his fortune. Then he went floating down the river in his rice-bowl boat, paddling with his chopstick.

He floated for many, many miles, and then suddenly his boat was turned over. it was a frog in the river that had hit the boat. Little One-Inch was a very good swimmer. He swam to the bank and found himself standing before a great lord's house.

Little One-Inch looked at the house and saw that it must belong to a very wealthy lord. So he walked boldly up to the front door and called out. A manservant came to the door but he couldn't see anyone.

"Here I am, down here," cried Little One-Inch. "Look down here."

The servant looked down at the floor by the front door. At first all he saw was the pair of wooden sandals that the lord used when he went out walking. Then the servant looked closer and saw the tiny figure of Little One-Inch standing beside the sandals. He was so surprised that he hurried off to tell the lord.

The lord came to the front door himself and looked at Little One-Inch, who was standing there very proudly, with his needle-sword at his hip. "Why, hello there, little knight," said the lord. "What do you want here?"

"I've come out into the world to seek my fortune," said Little One-Inch. "And if you'll have me, I pray that you let me become one of your guards. I may be small, but I can fight very well with this fine sword I have."

The lord was very amused to hear a tiny boy use such bold words. "All right, all right," he said, "you can come and be a playmate for my daughter, the princess."

So after that Little One-Inch became the constant companion of the princess. They became very good friends, reading books and playing together every day. The princess made a bed for Little One-Inch in one of her jewel boxes.

On day the princess and Little One-Inch went to visit a temple near the lord's house. Suddenly a terrible green devil appeared, carrying a magic hammer. When the devil saw the princess he started trying to catch her. Little One-Inch drew his sword and began sticking the devil's toes with it. But the devil's skin was so thick that the tiny needle-sword wouldn't even go through it. The devil was getting nearer and nearer to the princess. So Little One-Inch climbed up the devil's body and out onto his arm. Then he waved the sword at the devil's nose. This made the devil so angry that he opened his mouth to give a big roar.

At that moment Little One-Inch gave a big leap and jumped right into the devil's mouth. Then he began cutting the devil's tongue with his sword. Now the devil's tongue was very tender and the needle hurt very much. He was so surprised at this that he spit Little One-Inch out onto the ground and went running away. He even dropped his magic hammer.

The princess ran and picked up the magic hammer. "Now we can make a wish," she said. Then she shook the hammer in the air and said: "Please let Little One-Inch grow taller."

And, sure enough, each time the princess shook the hammer Little One-Inch grew one inch taller. She kept right on shaking it until Little One-Inch was just as tall as she was. They were both very happy about this, and the lord was happy too when he heard what had happened.

When they were a few years older Little One-Inch and the princess were married and they lived happily ever after.

The Magic Teakettle

There was once a priest who was very fond of drinking tea. He always made the tea himself and was very fussy about the utensils he used. One day in an old secondhand shop he discovered a beautiful iron kettle used for boiling water when making tea. It was a very old and rusty kettle, but he could see its beauty beneath the rust. So he bought it and took it back to his temple. He polished the kettle until all the rust was gone, and then he called his three young pupils, who lived in the temple.

"Just look what a fine kettle I bought today," he said to them. "Now I'll boil some water in it and make us all some delicious tea."

So he put the kettle over a charcoal fire in a brazier, and they all sat around waiting for the water to boil. The kettle started getting hotter and hotter, and suddenly a very strange thing happened: the kettle grew the head of a badger, and a bushy badger tail, and four little badger feet.


"Ouch! it's hot!" cried the kettle. "I'm burning, I'm burning!" And with those words the kettle jumped off the fire and began running around the room on its little badger feet.

The old priest was very surprised, but he didn't want to lose his kettle. "Quick! quick!" he said to his pupils, "don't let it get away. Catch it!"

One boy grabbed up a broom; another, a pair of fire tongs; and the third, a dipper. And away the three of them went, chasing after the kettle. When they finally caught it, the badger head and the bushy badger tail and the four little badger feet disappeared and it was just an ordinary kettle again.


"This is most strange," said the priest. "It must be a bewitched teakettle. Now, we don't want anything like that around the temple. We must get rid of it."

Just then a junkman came by the temple. So the priest took the kettle out to him and said: "Here's an old iron kettle I'll sell you very cheap, Mr. Junkman. Just give me whatever you think it's worth."

The junkman weighed the kettle on his hand scales and then he bought it from the priest for a very small price. He went home whistling, pleased at having found such a bargain.

That night the junkman went to sleep and all the house was very quiet. Suddenly a voice called: "Mr. Junkman. Oh, Mr. Junkman!"

The junkman opened his eyes. "Who's that calling me?" he said, lighting a candle.

And there he saw the kettle, standing by his pillow, with the badger head, and the bushy badger tail, and the four little badger feet. The junkman was very surprised and said, "Aren't you the kettle I bought from the priest today?"

"Yes, that's me," said the kettle. "But I'm not an ordinary kettle. I'm really a badger in disguise and my name is Bumbuku, which means Good Luck. That mean old priest put me over a fire and burned me, so I ran away from him. But if you'll treat me kindly and feed me well and never put me over a fire, I'll stay with you and help you make your fortune."

"Why, this is very strange," said the junkman. "How can you help me make my fortune?"

"I can do all sorts of wonderful tricks," said the kettle, waving his bushy badger tail. "So all you have to do is put me in a show and sell tickets to the people who want to see me do my tricks."

The junkman thought this was a splendid idea. The very next day he built a little theater out in his yard, and put up a big sign which said: "Bumbuku, The Magic Teakettle of Good Luck, and His Extraordinary Tricks."


Every day more and more people came to see Bumbuku. The junkman would sell tickets out front and then when the theater was full he'd go inside and start beating a drum. Bumbuku would come out and dance and do all sorts of acrobatics. But the trick that pleased people most of all was when Bumbuku would walk across a tight rope, carrying a paper parasol in one hand and a fan in the other. The people thought this most wonderful. They would cheer and cheer for Bumbuku. And after every show the junkman would give Bumbuku some delicious rice-cakes to eat.

The junkman sold so many tickets that he finally became extremely rich. One day he said to Bumbuku: "You must get very tired doing these tricks every day. I now have all the money I need. So why don't I take you back to the temple, where you can live very quietly?

"Well," said Bumbuku, "I am getting a little tired and I would like to live quietly in a temple. But that old priest might put me on the fire again, and he might never give me delicious rice-cakes."

"Just leave everything to me," the junkman said.

So the next morning the junkman took Bumbuku and a large amount of money and some of Bumbuku's favorite rice-cakes to the temple.


When they got to the temple the junkman explained to the priest everything that had happened, and he gave all the money to the priest for the temple. Then he said: "So will you please let Bumbuku live here quietly forever, always feeding him rice-cakes like these I've brought and never putting him over the fire?"

"Indeed I will," said the priest. "He shall have the honored place in the temple's treasure house. It's really a magic kettle of good luck, and I would never have put it over the fire if only I'd known."

So the priest called his pupils. They put the kettle on a wooden stand, and the rice-cakes on another stand. Then with the priest carrying one stand, and the junkman carrying the other, and the three pupils following after, they carried Bumbuku carefully to the treasure house, and put the rice-cakes beside him.

It is said that Bumbuku is still there in the treasure house of the temple today, where he is very happy. They still give him delicious rice-cakes to eat every day and never, never put him over a fire. He is peaceful. He is happy.

Momotaro the Peach Boy

ONCE upon a time there was an old man and his old wife living in the country in Japan. The old man was a woodcutter. He and his wife were very sad and lonely because they had no children.

One day the old man went into the mountains to cut firewood and the old woman went to the river to wash some clothes.


No sooner had the old woman begun her washing than she was very surprised to see a big peach come floating down the river. It was the biggest peach she'd ever seen in all her life. She pulled the peach out of the river and decided to take it home and give it to the old man for his supper that night.

Late in the afternoon the old man came home, and the old woman said to him: "Look what a wonderful peach I found for your supper." The old man said it was truly a beautiful peach. He was so hungry that he said: "Let's divide it and eat it right away."

So the old woman brought a big knife from the kitchen and was getting ready to cut the peach in half. But just then there was the sound of a human voice from inside the peach. "Wait! Don't cut me!" said the voice. Suddenly the peach split open, and a beautiful baby boy jumped out of the peach.

The old man and woman were astounded. But the baby said: "Don't be afraid. The God of Heaven saw how lonely you were without any children, so he sent me to be your son."

The old man and woman were very happy, and they took the baby to be their son. Since he was born from a peach, they named him Momotaro, which means Peach Boy. They loved Momotaro very much and raised him to be a fine boy.

When Momotaro was about fifteen years old, he went to his father and said: "Father, you have always been very kind to me. Now I am a big boy and I must do something to help my country. In a distant part of the sea there is an island named Ogre Island. Many wicked ogres live there, and they often come to our land and do bad things like carrying people away and stealing their things. So I'm going to go to Ogre Island and fight them and bring back the treasure which they have there. Please let me do this."

The old man was surprised to hear this, but he was also very proud of Momotaro for wanting to help other people. So he and the old woman helped Momotaro get ready for his journey to Ogre Island. The old man gave him a sword and armor, and the old woman fixed him a good lunch of millet dumplings. Then Momotaro began his journey, promising his parents that he would come back soon.


Momotaro went walking toward the sea. It was a long way. As he went along he met a spotted dog. The dog growled at Momotaro and was about to bite him, but then Momotaro gave him one of the dumplings. He told the spotted dog that he was going to fight the ogres on Ogre Island. So the dog said he'd go along too and help Momotaro.

Momotaro and the spotted dog kept on walking and soon they met a monkey. The spotted dog and the monkey started to have a fight. But Momotaro explained to the monkey that he and the spotted dog were going to fight the ogres on Ogre Island. Then the monkey asked if he couldn't go with them. So Momotaro gave the monkey a dumpling and let the monkey come with them.

Momotaro and the spotted dog and the monkey kept on walking. Suddenly they met a pheasant. The spotted dog and the monkey and the pheasant were about to start fighting. But when the pheasant heard that Momotaro was going to fight the ogres on Ogre Island, he asked if he could go too. So Momotaro gave the pheasant a dumpling and told him to come along.


So, with Momotaro as their general, the spotted dog and the monkey and the pheasant, who usually hated each other, all became good friends and followed Momotaro faithfully. They walked a long, long way, and finally reached the sea. At the edge of the sea Momotaro built a boat. They and all got in the boat and started across the sea toward Ogre Island.

When they came within sight of the island, they could see that the ogres had a very strong fort there. And there were many, many ogres. Some of them were red, some blue, and some black.

First the pheasant flew over the walls of the fort and began to peck at the ogres' heads. They all tried to hit the pheasant with their clubs, but he was very quick and dodged all their blows. And while the ogres weren't looking, the monkey slipped up and opened the gate of the fort. Then Momotaro and the spotted dog rushed into the fort and started fighting the ogres too.


It was a terrible battle! The pheasant pecked at the heads and eyes of the wicked ogres. And the monkey clawed at them. And the spotted dog bit them. And Momotaro cut them with his sword. At last the ogres were completely defeated. They all bowed down low before Momotaro and promised never to do wicked things again. Then they brought Momotaro all the treasure they had stored in the fort.

It was the most wonderful treasure you can imagine. There was much gold and silver and many precious jewels. There was an invisible coat and hat, arid a hammer that made a piece of gold every time you hit it on the ground, and many other wonderful things. Momotaro and his three helpers carried all this in their boat back to the land. Then they made a cart and put all the treasure in the cart and pulled it back to Momotaro's house.


How happy the old man and woman were when they saw their son return safely from Ogre IsIand! They were very rich now with all the treasure that Momotaro had brought, and they all lived together very, very, happily.

The Little Old Man and the Magic Stick

A long time ago, in a far away place there lived a little old man in a little old house. He lived with a little old dog in that little old house. This little old house was so neat and tidy, clean and fresh that whenever people came to call, they always commented on the wonder of it all. Around his house was the most beautiful garden one might ever see with the most beautiful flowers and the most beautiful fragrances.

Children would come and play all the time in this garden. Whenever they were there, the little old man was content.

The little old man was no ordinary old man. Although he was old and bent and his knuckles were gnarled, he was a very powerful man. For he had a very special gift, he did. What do you think he had? The little old man had a magic stick.

Do you believe in magic? I believe in magic. So let me tell you a bit about this magic stick. The little old man had received this magic stick from his father who had received it from his father, who got it from his father, to whom it was given by his father. This special magic stick went back so far that nobody in the family could remember where it came from. But it was, nonetheless, magic.

And what could this magic stick do, you might ask. Well, this magic stick was a very special thing. For if the little old man waved it over the head of a sick person and said some special words, the sick person would be better! If a person had a broken heart, they could go to the man and it would be healed. Those dying and in pain could finally rest peacefully if the little old man and his stick came calling.

This little old man was a very busy man. For he was the village healer. Everyone would come to him with his or her problems. They would listen to his words and feel better. They would accept his magic stick and be healed. Yes, the little old man was a very important man in the town, but if you didn't know this, you would never guess because he was such a tiny, little, quiet, ordinary-looking old man.

Over the years, the little old man healed many people. So many in fact that he had volumes and volumes of records of people's names. People would come from far and wide upon hearing and seeing the healing magic he performed. No one ever thought to ask if it was good or bad magic because all he ever did was good with his magic stick.

One day, a very sick lady came knocking at the old man's door. She desperately needed his help because she was very sick. The man brought her to the garden (the most peaceful place of all), sat her down and massaged her sore, blistered, broken feet. She had walked a long way; so long in fact that her shoes had fallen apart and she was forced to continue her journey barefoot!

The little old man asked the very sick woman to wait for a moment while he went and fetched his magic stick. He walked over to the house and through the door. Upon reaching the resting-place of his magic stick he noticed that it was not there! "That's strange," he said to himself. "I am certain that I put it back there. Hmm. . . I must be getting forgetful in my old age. I'll have to look around." So away he went, searching. From space to space, room to room. But the stick was nowhere in sight.

Well, the little old man, as you could well imagine, began to panic! He ran from room to room, tearing apart everything looking for his magic stick. Look as he might, he could not find it. It was lost!

Wrought and distressed the man returned to the very sick lady and told her that he was so sorry but he could not heal her today. She wondered why, after having come from so far. However, as everyone believed the little old man so completely, she didn't ask any questions.

After the sick lady left, even sicker than before, the little old man went into his little old house and sat down on the little old rocking chair in the corner. "Think, think, think," he said to himself. "I must have left it somewhere, but where?" Yet think as hard as he might, he could only remember putting the magic stick in its special place.

So he sat and thought. He thought and thought and tried to remember. And all the while, he went deeper into a gloom and depression. He neglected his beautiful garden. He neglected his little old house. He even neglected his little old dog and himself! He was so sad, and so depressed that he became quite ill, and old beyond his years.

The little old man changed. The children stopped coming because he would yell at them and scare them away. The sick people stopped coming because he would yell at them and tell them he couldn't help them. The friends and people that grew up around him stopped coming because he would not answer their calls.

Deeper into his gloom he went. Sicker and sicker he became until he was but a shadow of his former self. He no longer knew who he was.

Well, one day, his poor little old doggy just up and died of sadness and a broken heart. He was so hungry, sad, and so very tired that he couldn't even get up to say goodbye to his master, the little old man. He just died, lying there. And there he lay because the little old man could no longer see, could no longer move, could no longer help his loyal friend. He was so sick that he just didn't know anything anymore.

One sunny afternoon a young man came to the sick old man's house. He said to himself, "My, what a shame. I remember that this garden used to be so beautiful. I played here when I was very young. I wonder what is wrong with the little old man? Maybe I should go and see!"

So he went to the door and he knocked. No answer. He knocked again. And again, silence was the only greeting he received. He gently pushed open the door to call out. Suddenly the stench of decay from inside the house filled his head so completely that he staggered back! The young man gathered his courage and looked deep into the black, gloomy darkness.

Many years ago as a child, the young man had been brought to the little old man by his parents, carried in a sling over their shoulders. He could not walk. He was crippled and in pain all the time. His feet had been twisted and useless from birth. But the little old man took the boy into his garden and with such loving, gently caressed and cleaned his feet. Then he took his magic stick, waved it over the boy's feet, saying the most magical wonderful words the little boy had ever heard in his entire life. And suddenly the boy no longer felt pain! He could stand! He tried to walk and he could! He could even run! So he ran and ran and ran through the beautiful garden, laughing and laughing. His parents cried to see the miracle. This, the young man remembered as he looked in at the sick old man.

"What do you want?" growled a voice from the corner. "Go away! Get away from here! I can't help you any more! You people keep coming to me for help. Just leave me in peace! I am tired and I want to die. I am no good any more. I cannot help you.

The young man gently backed out of the house and closed the door behind him. And as he was walking away with a heavy heart, he recalled that the old man had lost his magic stick many years ago. He thought to himself, "I wonder what I can do to help? Many years ago he saved me. Now I must save him. It is the price I owe him for my life."

Away he went for a walk, deep into the forest, thinking all the time. After a while he sat down on a rock to take a stone out of his shoes. He had walked a long way but still could not think of anything to help the little old man. "But I must! I must help him."

As he was sitting and thinking, he noticed that some of the branches of the trees around him had been broken off from a storm a long time ago. They were old, and gray and round; worn smooth from the time. At that moment the young man had an incredible thought! "It might not work, but I have to try."

"I will take this stick to the little old man and tell him that I found his magic stick in the forest! He will be so happy that he will immediately forget his pain and get up and walk."

So he did just that. He took the ordinary non-magical stick back to the little old man's little, very old house and he went inside.

"What do you want? I said GO AWAY!" the old man had tears in his blind old eyes.

"Little old man, do you remember me? Many years ago my parents brought me here as a child. I was crippled and could not walk. You healed me. You made me whole again so I could run through your gardens and play with all the other children. I grew up strong and healthy thanks to you and your magic stick. I have never again been sick a day in my life," said the young man to the very old man.

"Well, those days are long gone. I lost my magic stick many years ago. I have no power any more. Look at me: I am blind, I cannot walk, I cannot even stand. I am sick. I just want to die alone. Can't you leave me alone?" he asked, almost imploringly.

There was great heaviness in the heart of the young man to see the little old man in such terrible pain and loneliness.

"Little old man, today I went for a very long walk, deep into the forest. I needed to think. When I sat down on a rock to rest, I noticed a stick lying at my feet. I picked it up and it felt warm and very comfortable, almost as if I had known this stick some time in my past. And then I remembered you standing over me with your magic stick, healing me. I have never forgotten that day, or you, or your magic stick. I am certain that this is your magic stick. Here, feel it, touch it, and let it speak to you. If it is your magic stick, it will let you know. You will know." The young man said this with as much honesty and love he could muster. For if he failed now, he knew that his entire plan would fail. And likely it would be the death of the little old man.

"Give me the stick.” said the old man. He took it in his gnarled, old fingers and held it for a moment. "It feels warm. It feels familiar. Yes, there might be something there. Wait, I can hear a voice! Yes! It is the voice that I heard so many years ago in my youth when I used to pick this stick up and play with it as a child! My son, you have found it! You have found my magic stick! Oh, blessed be, thank you! Thank you, thank you!"

Unstoppable tears flowed from the old man's eyes, and too, from those of the young man.

The old man got off his rocking chair and stood. "See, look, I am standing! And now I can see! And the pain in my body is gone! Yes, oh magic stick of mine, thank you so much for returning to me! I now know that all these years you have been testing me to see if I was really worthy of you! Even though I am sure I failed you, you have given me a second chance. Well, I will never again fail you. Never again! Until the very last day I die, I will serve you faithfully."

Then the little old man, who was once again himself after all long years, looked down at his feet and saw that his faithful, little old dog had passed away. How terrible he felt! He cried and cried until he could cry no more.

"I will take you and give you the best resting spot in the entire world, my faithful friend, " he spoke lovingly to his dog.

He took the little old dog out to under the old oak tree that had been there for centuries. And he gave his old friend the best burial a friend could ever have.

Then, without even taking time to eat, or clean, or even to put on his shoes, away he trotted to the village, with an energy that a man fifty years younger would envy. He went from door to door, healing the sick, making happy the unhappy, peacefully putting to rest the dying. He did not stop when the sun went down. No. He continued into the night and on into the next morning and on and on until not a single sick person was left in the entire village. Then off he went to the next village, and performed the same miracles. And on to the next and the next until everyone in the land knew that the little old man with the magic stick was back.

One day, quite a few years later, a man came knocking at the door of the house of the very old man. This was the same man who, as a child had been healed by the magic stick. He had a wife and a beautiful daughter and was very happy. He brought his daughter to introduce to the little old man.

But no one answered his knock. "That's strange," he thought. "I wonder where he could be?" And as he was about to leave, his foot accidentally pushed the door open. "Very strange indeed. Hmm. . . "

So he went in. The man recalled a time many years earlier when a similar thing happened. "Hello? Little old man, are you here?" he called. No answer. "Hello? Is anybody home?" Yet no answer. The man walked in further and looked around. The home was bright, clean, fresh. There were even fresh cut flowers in the vase by the window. "I wonder where he could have gone?"

"Daddy, come here, " said the man's little girl. "What is it honey?" He walked over to a room in the corner.

Lying on the bed, with his stick by his side was the little old man, peacefully at rest after all those years. He was smiling. He was gone.

A tear came into the man's eye as he said to his daughter, "Child, this is the most important man in the entire world. When I was your age, I was very sick. I could not walk, I could not play with the other children. But this man healed me and made me well. And thanks to him, I have you." And he scooped her up and hugged her as hard as he could. "Daddy! Not so hard!"

The man knew he had one more duty to perform.

When everything was prepared, he laid the body of the little old man in a plot next to the old oak tree where many years ago the old man's loyal dog had been laid to rest. "Now you two can be together again, after so many years apart. Rest in peace, my friend. You deserve it." And he placed the plain old stick (which really wasn't magic after all) with the little old man. He covered him up and let him sleep. "Farewell my old friend. You have worked far harder, suffered far more than any man ever should. I will miss you."

And the man and his daughter walked away.

The little old house is gone now but that old oak tree is still standing, taller and healthier than ever. The children come and play in the branches. If they fall, they are not hurt. Lovers come and read poetry to each other under the boughs, feeling intense feelings for one another. The hot and tired experience amazing cooling breezes in the sweltering summer heat. And they feel good. Old friends come to sit under the tree and relax. The pain in their bones seems to lessen when they are there.

And another old man comes from time to time to chat with his old friend who rests under the boughs of the old oak. Many years ago as a small child this old man had been healed by a little old man who had a very big heart. He knows the truth. He knows that the power in the magic stick was that of the power in the little man himself. He knows that if you dig deeply within yourself you can find the strength, the power, and the magic to heal yourself and others. It comes from within. It comes from the heart. There is no greater power than the goodness in one's heart. From there comes all: love, health, happiness, strength. What else could one need? Yes, the old man knows all about the "magic stick". But he has never told anyone. Why should he?

Whenever the old man is asked why he never gets sick, why he is always happy and has had such a successful family life he always tells his story of the little old man and the magic stick.

Cameron Switzer
Kamishii-mura, Japan
August 27, 2000

This tale is dedicated to "M". Always remember the power and strength within yourself.