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2.8.25 - Part 2 · Children's Hour

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Speaker 1: Hello, and welcome to Radio Eyes Chunter's story hour. As
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a reminder, Radio Eye is reading service intended for people
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who are blind or have other disabilities that make it
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difficult to read printing material. Today we will be continuing
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with the book from last time, Pierre in Love. Your
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reader today is Diane. The book Pierre in Love was
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published by Orchard Books and has a copyright year of
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two thousand and seven and the author of the book
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is Sarah Sarah Penny Packer. The next morning, Catherine rose
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early and went outside to perform some stretches as usual,
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her heart gave a petiget when she saw Pierre's gift.
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Oh how lovely, she cried. But who could have left
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it all that day Miss Catherine. Students wondered what was
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making their teacher smile in much a mysterious way. Miles
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out at sea, Pierre was smiling too. As he fished.
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His thoughts flew to Catherine's studio. Was she holding the
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shell at this very moment? Admiring its beauty? His heart
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swelled with its secret. Pierre baited his hooks and allowed
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himself to daydream further. In his imagination, Catherine was in
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some sort of grave danger, and he would swoop in
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and rescue her in the nick of time. Oh, how
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can I ever thank you, she would exclaim, when she
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was recovered enough to speak. You saved my life. Then
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Pierre would shrug modestly. He practiced this shrug so he
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would be ready and brush off her gratitude. Not at all,
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he would say, in a voice quite a bit deeper
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than his regular voice. It was nothing. The important thing
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is that you are all right. But after a while
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his daydreams were not enough. Ahead, Pierre saw small island
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covered with wild roses. He anchored his boat, swam ashore
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and collected an enormous book, at great risk to himself,
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for the roses were thorny. He would give the flowers
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to Katherine. At this time, he vowed he would hand
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them to her and stay to speak to her. Once again.
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He cleaned and polished himself until he shone in his
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red red shirt. But once again bear seized him at
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Katherine's doorstep, and he laid the bouquet down and fled,
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and once again. When Catherine opened the door the next
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morning and saw Peer's give, she wondered who had left it,
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and her heart leaped The next morning, a piece of
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driftwood appeared on her doorstep, the next a heart shaped
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wreath of sea grass, and the next a dozen oysters
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in a bucket of ice. Katherine could bear the spen
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suspense no longer. That night, she hid in the lilac
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bushes beside her door and chewed on fiery cinnamon candies
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to stay awake. At midnight, Pierre crept to Catherine's store
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and bent to arrange a pile of sea smooth stones.
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He heard a noise and whirled around to see car
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through leap gracefully from a bush. So it was you, sir,
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she cried, You've been leaving me these gifts. Pierre was
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so stunned he could only stare, his mouth hanging open
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like a haddog's. This close to Katherine, he felt all
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bloopy and love swaggled. But it was now or never.
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I love you, he burst out. And my deepest wish
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is that you could love me too. These gifts are beautiful, sir,
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Catherine replied, but I cannot love you. I'm in love
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with someone else already. Pierre staggered. The news socked him
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hard like an anchor to his chest. Well he says,
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struggling to smile. I'm glad to know you are happy. Oh,
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Catherine said with a mournful shrug. I'm not happy. I
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can't eat, I can't sleep. I love him, but I've
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never even met him. I can't tell him how I
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feel because he's an adventurer, bowed and brave, and I'm
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only an ordinary ballet dan teacher. All I can do
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is paint pictures of him, and so I do night
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after night. Pierre couldn't take it anymore. He ran to
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his cottage and wept like a broken wave. But the
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next morning he felt a little better. For the first
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time in months, he had slept well, and he had
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managed a few bites of oatmeal for breakfast. It wasn't
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being in love that had made him so miserable, he
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realized it was keeping it a secret. Pierre picked up
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the dashing red shirt from the floor. It was still
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sopping wet from his tears, but he would tie it
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to his mask to dry in the sun. His heart
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was mending already. On the way to the dock, he
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suddenly turned and ran to Catherine's studio. He had one
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more gift to giver. Tell him, Pierre called out as
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loud as he could. Feelings are like tides, you can't
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hold them back. Before Catherine could open the door, he
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swung away and race to the dock. That day, the
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sunlight sparkled like diamonds on the waves, and the fish
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practically flung themselves into his nets. Pierre tried to enjoy himself.
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I have a finest I have a finest kind boat,
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he reflected, a snug home and an excellent health. So
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what have I no one to share it all with.
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I'm as happy as a clam on a lamb, He
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sang out loud every time he caught himself wondering if
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this were the moment Catherine was telling her beloved how
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she felt. And by the time he reached the harbor,
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he almost believed it. There in the distance was his dog.
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But something about it looked different tonight. Drawing closer up
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here was astonishing to see that the pilings were hung
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with dozens of paintings, and tying up to the dock,
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he saw something more astonishing still. The paintings were all
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of him guiding his boat into port. Just then Catherine
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stepped out from behind the largest painting. I love you,
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she began, and my deepest wish is that she stopped.
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She stared at the red silk shirt flying from the
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hoisting pole. She rubbed her eyes and looked at Pierre.
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It's you, she cried, dumbfounded. I almost didn't recognize you.
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And then she stopped again. For really, what more was
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there to say? Katherine Pierre flew into each other's embrace.
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Her heart gave a grand Jitu and his surge as
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well as the hurricane sea. Or was it the other
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way around? It was impossible to tell, because their two
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hearts had become one. The next book is called The
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Random House Book of Fairy Tales and it was published
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by Random House with a copyright eyear of nineteen eighty
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five and is adapted by Amy Erlitic. The Emperor's k
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New Clothes. This one was by Hans Christian Andersen. In
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a country far way, there was once an emperor who
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loved nothing better than new clothes. All his money was
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spent on shirts and doublets and pants and cloaks. He
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never drove in the woods, or went to the theater
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or reviewed the troops in the army, unless it was
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to show off some new costume. The emperor had closed
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for every hour of the day in the evening, and
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whenever his ministers wanted to find him, they had only
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to look in his dressing room. Life was very happy
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in the great town where he lived. The streets were
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thrown with strangers, and one day two swindlers were among them.
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They made themselves out to be weavers, and said they
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could weave cloth more beautiful than any on earth. Not
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only were the colors and patterns supper, but the garments
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that were made from the cloth had an amazing quality
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of becoming invisible to all who were dull and incompetent,
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Or so the swindlers claimed. Those must be wonderful clothes,
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thought the Emperor, when he had heard the story. By
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wearing them, I should be able to tell wise men
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from fools, and learn who among my people deserves my trust. Yes,
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I must have some of that cloth woven for me
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at once, And he gave the two swindlers large sums
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of money so they could begin work quickly. They set
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up two looms and pretended to weave, Yet the shuttles
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where it's empty as air. They demanded the finest silk
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and the pures go thread. Then they packed it away
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in their bags and worked upon the empty looms far
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into the night. After a time, the emperor was eager
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to discover how the weavers were getting on with the cloth,
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but remembering that anyone who was a fool would not
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be able to see it, he became reluctant to go
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into the room himself. Of course, I have no fears
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about my own competence, he thought, But still it may
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be best to send some other man. My oldest minister
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is the one for the task. He's clever and will
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be able to judge the quality of the cloth at once.
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And so the minister went to find the weavers. There
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they sat before their empty looms, working the invisible thread
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as though it were real. How can this be, thought
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the man, opening his eyes very wide, I see nothing,
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nothing at all. The someone who stood up then and
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asked him how he liked the unusual design and the
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beautiful colors. They pointed to the empty looms and the
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minister's stare as hard as he could, but he could
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see nothing, for there was nothing. Could it mean that
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I am stupid? He thought fearfully. I have never thought so.
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But who can be certain? Nobody must be allowed to
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know that I cannot see the cloth. Well, what do
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you think of it, asked some of the weavers. Oh,
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it is beautiful, most exquisite. I shall certainly tell the
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Emperor how pleased I am, said the minister. Then the
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weavers drew him closer to the empty looms. They named
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the different colors and described the pattern, and the minister
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listened closely so he could repeat it all to the emperor.
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Now the weavers demanded more money and more silk for
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the work, but again they put it into their own
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pockets and went on weaving at the empty looms. A
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short time later, the emperor sent another minister to learn
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how the cloth was getting on and if it would
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soon be ready. The man looked and looked, but he
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could see only the empty looms. He blinked once again,
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and then again, and still he saw nothing. Oh, no,
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I know I am not a fool, he thought. So
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it must mean I am unfit for my position. I
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must never let on that I cannot see the cloth,
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And he went back to the emperor and praised the
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beautiful colors and the design he had never seen. Soon
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everyone in the town was talking about the splendid cloth.
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At last, the Emperor could wait no longer and decide
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to see it for himself. Accompanied by a large number
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of servants and his two faithful ministers, he went into
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the room where the weavers were working. They moved their
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hands fast across the looms, Yet there was not a
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strand of silk upon them. Is the cloth not magnificent?
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To your majesty, as the two ministers, surely you will
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agree with all our praise of it? And they pointed
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to the empty looms, for each thought the others could
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see the cloth. The emperor was struck with horror. What
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he thought, I see nothing. This is terrible? Am I
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a fool? Am I unfit to be an emperor? But
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knowing that the others were awaiting his response, he nodded
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and smiled and clapped his hands together. Perfectly wonderfully superb,
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he said, gazing at the empty loom. Perfectly wonderful, superb.
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The servants echoed, though they saw no more than the others.
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The very next day there was to be a great procession,
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and everyone agreed that the Emperor must lead it, dressed
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in garments sewn from the wonderful cloth. Then the Emperor
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gave each of the weavers a decoration for this bottom
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hoe and the title of Night of the Loom. The
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night before the procession, the weaver sat up until dawn,
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burning sixteen candles so that people would see how hard
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they were working to get the emperor's new clothes ready.
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They pretended to take the cloth off the loom. Then
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they cut it out in the air with huge pair
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of shears and stitch it together using needles without any thread.
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Now the Emperor's new clothes are ready, they announced. When
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the Emperor went into the room with his ministers and servants,
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both of the weavers raised one arm in the air
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as if they were holding something very precious. These are
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the pants, This is the coat. Here is the mantle,
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they said. As you can see, the cloth is as
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light and delicate as a spider's web. One might almost
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think one had nothing on, But that is the very
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beauty of it. Yes, oh, yes, everyone cried, staring harder
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than ever at nothing. Please, your majesty, you must take
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off your clothes so we can put the new ones
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on here before the mirror, the weaver said. Of course,
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Quite so, said the emperor, and he took off all
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his clothes, and the weavers pretended to fasten something around
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his waist and tie something else around his neck, and
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finally they ran their hands along the floor as if
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they were arranging the train. Everyone praised the emperor's appearance,
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even though he was wearing nothing. How well his Majesty
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looks in the new clothes, they said, what a beautiful
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coat and mantle. The canopy that will be held over
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your majesty is here. The procession is about to begin,
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the oldest minister cried. The Emperor turned around and round
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in front of the mirror, as if admiring his reflection.
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Very well, I am ready, he announced. He walked with
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dignity from the weaver's room, and the chamberlains, who were
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to carry the train pretended to lift it from the
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ground and hold it where the hand were with their
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hands in the air. Then the Emperor walked at the
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end of the procession under the beautiful canopy, and everyone
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in the streets cried, look at the Emperor's new clothes.
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Are they not the most wonderful he has ever worn?
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They did not dare admit they could see nothing, for
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fear they would be called fools. Never four had the
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emperor's clothes been so much admired, but he has got
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nothing on, said a little child. Oh listen to the innocence,
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said the father. And one person whispered to another what
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the child had said. He has nothing on. A child
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says he has nothing on, But he has nothing on.
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All the people cried. At last, the emperor felt a
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shudder go through him, for he knew at once that
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it was true. But he had to continue to leave
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the procession, And so he walked on beneath the canopy,
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and the chamberlains held up the invisible train. The next
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story or fairy tale is The Sleeping Beauty in the
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Wood by Charles Perrault. In a distance lived a king
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and queen who could have no children. Nothing else would
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give them pleasure, and they moved through the days as
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if they were mourning. But after many, many years, the
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queen at last bore a daughter. The christening was to
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be magnificent, magnificent for the child's godmother. Seven fairies were chosen.
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Each was to give her a gift, a town, or
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virtue that would make her the child's perfection itself. After
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the christening, the company returned to the palace where the
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great feast had been prepared to honor the seven fairies.
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Before each one was a golden plate with a knife
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and fork and spoon set with diamonds and rubies. But
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just as they were sitting down to eat, a very
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old fairy came into the hall. She had not been
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invited because she had shut herself in high distant tower
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for many years, and it was thought that she was dead.
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The keen ordered place laid for the old fairy, but
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he could not give her a golden plate with a
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knife and fork and spoon the others had, for only
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seven had been made. The old fairy was outraged and
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muttered threats beneath her breath. A young fairy who sat
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nearby herd her. Fearing that the uninvited one might harm
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a little princess, she hid herself behind the curtains. She
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wanted to give the last gift of awe, and in
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this way perhaps undo any evil that the old fairy
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was planning. Soon as it was time to give the
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gifts to the princess, the youngest fairy said she would
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grow up to be beautiful. The next that she should
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have the witch of an angel. The third promised her grace.
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The fourth gave her the gift of dancing, the fifth
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the gift of singing, and the last fairy said she
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would be able to play sweet music on an instrument
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she took up. Now it was the old fairy's turn.
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She came near to the cradle, her head shaking with age.
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In spite the young princess's beauty and accomplishments will not
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help her, she announced, for one day she will prick
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her hand on a tiny spindle, and when this happened,
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she will die. The terrible gift made all the company
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tremble and weep, and the queen could not be comforted.
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But at this instant the young fairy, who had hidden,
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came from behind the curtains and cried out, No, my
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King and Queen, your child will not die of this wound.
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It is true I have not the power to change
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an older fairies gift. The princess will indeed pierce her
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finger with a spindle, but instead of dying, she shall
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only fall into a deep sleep. It will last one
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hundred years, and at the end of a king's son
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will come and awaken her. The young fairy's words were
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of scant comfort to avoid the misfortune, and had been
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foretold for his daughter. The king ordered all the spindles
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in the kingdom to be destroyed. Anyone even found spinning
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was to be put to death. Fifteen or sixteen years afterwards,
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the king and Queen were away in the countryside, and
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the young princess was running about in the palace. She
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went from room to room and came to last into
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a little on top of the tire, where an old
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woman was spinning with her spindle. The old woman had
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never heard of the king's orders, and so had gone
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on making her thread in the way of her mother
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and grandmother before her. What are you doing, my good woman,
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asked the princess. I am spinning, pretty child, said the
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old woman, for she did not know who the princess was.
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How clever, said the princess, how do you do it?
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Give it to me so I can try. Either because
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she was careless or because the old fairy had ordained it.
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No sooner had the girl taken the spindle than it
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pierced her hand, and she fell down in a swoon.
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The good old woman cried out for help. Servants and
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ladies came running from every room in the palace. They
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threw water upon the princess's face. They laced her and
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struck her on the palms of her hands, and rubbed
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her temples with cologne, but it was no use. Nothing
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would awaken her. Then the king, who had returned from
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the countryside, saw that the old fairy's cruel govees had
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come to pass, and his daughter must sleep for one
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hundred years. By his order, she was carried into the
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finest room in the palace and laid upon a bed
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of embroidered with silver and gold. The color in her
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face was undeemed, and she was as beautiful as ever.
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It is true that her eyes were shut, but those
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who listened closely could hear her breathe, so they knew
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she was not dead. The young fairy who had saved
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the prince's life was far away in the kingdom of Mannequin,
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but a dwarf in seven league boots came there to
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give her the news. At once, the fairy left for
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the palace, and a fiery chariot drawn by dragons. The
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king greeted her gently and showed her the room where
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the princess slept. Though the fairy saw that she was
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well provided for, she thought how sad the princess would
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be when she woke up alone in that great palace,
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with the people she knew dead and gone. So she
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touched everyone with her magic ring. She touched the housekeepers,
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the maize and waiting, the quarters, the cooks, and the footmen.
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Then she went into the stable and touched the horses
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and the stable boys. She even touched Puff, the Princess's
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little dog, who was curled up on the bed beside her.
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And once they all fell asleep and would not wake
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up until the princess woke. Everything in the palace was motionless.
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The spits on the fire with their partridge meats and
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pheasants stopped turning, and the flames died down and slept.
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The King and Queen watched the fairy in silence, and
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when she was done, they kissed their beloved daughter goodbye
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and left the palace forever. Within a quarter of an hour,
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a great number of trees, interlaced with brambles and thorns,
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grew up around the park and formed a hedge so
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thick that neither man nor beasts could penetrate it, so
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tall that only the tallest turrets of the palace could
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be seen. In this way, the fairy made a magical
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safe place where the princess could sleep in peace. At
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the end of the hundred years, the son of a
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king who lived nearby went hunting in the countryside. He
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asked the people about the turrets he saw in the
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woods and why the hedge grew there so thickly. He
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each told them a different story. Some said it was
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a place full of ghosts, and others said witches went
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there to hold their sabbath meetings. Still others said it
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was the home of an ogre who caught children and
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ate them alive. The prince did not know what to believe.
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Then a very old man said to him, Please, your highness,
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more than fifty years past, I heard my father say,
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there was at one time in the castle a princess,
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the most beautiful ever seen. Because she was bewitched, she
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must sleep for a hundred years and could be awakened
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only by a prince. Never had the king's son heard
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of such a marvelous adventure. Fired by love and the
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desire for glory, he resolved at once to gain entry
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to the palace. He prepared to cut down the hedge
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with his sword, but as soon as he came there
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all the great trees and bushes, and the bramis parted
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to let him pay us through. He came out upon
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a broad avenue. At the end of it was the palace.
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But when he looked behind to see if the servants
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were still with him, he discovered that the hedge should
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closed again, and he was all alone. However, this did
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not deter him, for he was a young prince in
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search of love and glory. Quickly he walked into the
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palace courtyard, but what he saw made him stop in amazement.
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A frightful silence hung over the place, and the image
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of death was everywhere. A score of men were outstretched
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upon the paving stones, their limbs at grotesque angles. But
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then the prince saw beside the porters goblets still filled
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with wine. He leaned down next to them and felt
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the movement of their chest, and then he knew they
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were alive, and had fallen asleep while drinking their wine. Next,
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he crossed a corp paved with marble, and came into
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a court into a guardroom. Guards were standing in their ranks,
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with their muskets on their shoulders, and storn with all
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their might. Upstairs and through several rooms, filled with people,
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men and women both. Some were standing and others were sitting,
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but all were sleeping soundly. Finally, he entered a glided chamber,
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where he saw upon a bed embroidered with gold and silver,
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a girl fifteen or sixteen years. Her coral lips were
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parted slightly, and her beauty was so luminous that she
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seemed almost to shine. The prince approached her, trembling and
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fell upon his knees. Then, as at the end of
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the enchapement had come, the princess awoke. She gazed at
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the king's son tenderly, as if she already knew him.
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It is you, my prince, she said, at last, you
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have waited a long time. The prince was thrilled by words,
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and told her that he loved her better than he
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did himself. They spoke for many hours, and though their
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conversation made little sense, it hardly mattered. The princess laughed
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merrily and nodded At the princess remarks. It was almost
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as if he almost as if she had imagined the
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moment of her awakening many times over and knew what
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he would say. Perhaps the good fairy, during so long
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a sleep had given her every pleasant dream. In the meantime,
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all the palace had awoken with the princess. They were
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naturally concerned with their own knees, and since they were
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not in love, they were ready to kill over with hunger.
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The Lady of Honor at last lost patience and told
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the princess that dinner must be served. At this the
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prince helped her up from the bed. Her clothing was magnificent,
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but he took care not to tell her that she
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was dressed like his grandmother. They went together into the
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Great mirror Hall, where they ate their meal to the
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old fashioned melodies of violins and oboes, and had been
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silent for one hundred years. After supper, the chaplain married
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them in the palace chapel without losing any time. That night,
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they slept little, as the princess was so well rested
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and they still had much to say, And in the morning,
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as dawn was breaking, they traveled to the princess city,
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where his parents eagerly awake. This concludes the Children's Story
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Hour for today. Please join us next time as we
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will read more stories, fables and fairy tales. And thank
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you for listening, and please stay tuned for the Lexington
25:14
Herald Leader. On radio I