The Book of Stories for the Story-teller Part 9

Satan was silent.

"Answer me," said Offero, "or I leave you at once."

Then Satan said, "Yes, it is true that I fear the cross. Upon it hung the Son of Mary."

"Then I leave you straightway," said Offero. "I seek the Son of Mary.

He shall be my king, since he is stronger than you."

Many days he searched, but alas! few could tell him anything of his new king, the Son of Mary. At last he found an old hermit and asked him the question he had asked so many others.

"How can I serve the Son of Mary?"

"You must fast," said the hermit.

"Ah, no!" said Offero. "If I fasted I should lose my great strength."

"Then you must pray," said the hermit.

"How can I pray?" asked Offero, "I know no prayers."

"Then," said the gentle old man, "I think the Son of Mary would be pleased to have you use your strength in some good work. Why not carry travellers across the stream in the name of the Son of Mary?"

"That is just to my mind," cried Offero, overjoyed. So straightway he built a hut by the swift stream, and cut a stout staff to steady his steps when the river roared high.

Travellers were glad to be helped on their way by this rough yet kindly giant. Sometimes they offered him money, but he always shook his great head. "I do this for the love of the Son of Mary," he said.

Many years went by. Offero's hair was now white as snow and his back was a little bent. But his strength was still great. One night, as he lay asleep, he was awakened by a voice, such a gentle, pleading little voice--"Dear, good, kind Offero, carry me across!"

He sprang to his feet, caught up his staff, and crossed to the farther sh.o.r.e. No one was there.

"I must have been dreaming," thought Offero as he laid himself down in his bed once more.

Again he fell asleep and again the same voice awoke him. How sweet, yet sad it sounded! "Dear, good, kind Offero, carry me across!"

He patiently crossed the deep, swift river, but again no one was to be seen. Once more he lay down in his bed and fell asleep. And once more came the pleading little voice, "Dear, good, kind Offero, carry me across!"

And now, for the third time, the old giant seized his palm-tree staff and pressed through the cold river. There on the sh.o.r.e stood "a tender, fair little boy with golden hair. He looked at the giant with eyes full of trust and love."

Offero tossed him on his shoulder and then turned to the river. Dark and surging it rose to his waist. The child grew heavier and heavier.

The giant bent under his burden. Now and then he felt he should surely sink into the river and be swept away.

At last he struggled up the bank and set down the child. "My little Master," he gasped, "do not pa.s.s this way again; I have come near losing my life."

But the fair child said to Offero, "Fear not, but rejoice. All thy sins are forgiven thee. Know that thou hast carried the Son of Mary.

That thou mayest be sure of this, fix thy staff in the earth."

Offero obeyed, and lo! out of the bare palm-staff sprang leaves and dates. Then Offero knew that it was Christ whom he had borne, and he fell at His feet.

A little hand rested in blessing upon the giant's bowed head.

"Henceforth," said the Son of Mary, "thy name shall be, not Offero but Christoffero."

Thus it was that Christopher came by his name. Because he was true to his name we always call him St Christopher.

_Wondering Jack_[9]

JAMES BALDWIN

_The Brothers set out to seek their Fortunes_

Once there was a poor farmer who had three sons--Peter, Paul, and Jack.

[Footnote 9: A fairy-tale of Finland.]

Now Peter was big, fat, red-faced, and slow; Paul was slender, awkward, and ill-natured; Jack was quick, and bright, and so little that he might have hidden himself in one of Peter's big boots.

The poor farmer had nothing in the world but a little hut that seemed ready to tumble down every time the wind blew. He worked hard, but it was all he could do to earn bread for his family.

The boys grew very fast, and by-and-by they were old enough to work.

Then their father said to them, "Boys, I have taken care of you these many days when you were too little to take care of yourselves. Now I am old, and you are strong. It is time for you to go out and earn your living."

So, early the next morning, the three boys started out to seek their fortunes.

"Where shall we go?" asked Peter.

"Yes, where shall we go?" said Paul. "Things have come to a pretty pa.s.s when one can't stay at home."

"Well, I am going to the King's palace," said Jack.

"And what will you do there?" said Paul. "You are a fine fellow to be going to kings' palaces."

"I will tell you," said Jack. "The King's palace is a very grand place. It is built of white stones and it has six gla.s.s windows on the front side of it.

"But a huge oak-tree has grown up right against the gla.s.s windows. The leaves are so many and so big that they shut out all the sunlight, and the rooms of the palace are dark even in midday."

"Well, what of that?" asked Peter.

"Yes, what of that?" growled Paul. "What have you to do with the oak?"

"The King wants it cut down," said Jack.

"Well, then, why don't his men cut it down?" asked Paul.

"They can't," said Jack. "The tree is so hard that it blunts the edge of every axe; and whenever one of its branches is cut off, two bigger ones spring out in place of it. The King has offered three bags of gold to anyone who will cut the tree down."