IBUNKITAN

Strange Stories and Curious Tales

Researched, Edited and Freely Adapted for the stage
by

STEPHEN LAURIE
2009

slaurie@lruhs.org

Directors Notes: I wrote these stories to be staged, but you may be asking Wheres the script? It is here, within the stories themselves! My idea (Id say my vision, but that phrase is so overused and somewhat pretentious!) is for each of these stories to be told by a narrator, or preferably, by two narrators. The actors task is to stage the action, through pantomime, movement dance and puppetry. One narrator can be standing, or sitting on a tatami mat on a raised platform, either far stage right (or left), or better yet, wide of the proscenium itself. If there are two narrators, they should sit on opposite sides of the proscenium one narrator telling the tale, and the second providing the voice for each character (and, in some tales, it is possible to have more than one of these voices). The narrators should not acknowledge each other or the actors they are telling the story directly to the audience. An actor can say a line or make an exclamation, however, during the narrators retelling, if you wish. It is possible that one person serves as a narrator throughout the entire performance, but more interest can be achieved if, for each story, and new person assumes the role of narrator (and a new person becomes the voice). This allows each actor the opportunity to serve as narrator, voice, or actor/dancer, perhaps many times, during the production. While many of these tales have comic elements, none are a true comedy. Each is strongly and obviously moralistic. And yet, many involve fanciful characters a dog spirit, frogs on a hike, a talking sparrow. To dress an actor in a dog or sparrow costume, for example, will definitely make for a comic scene, but may detract from the mood and moral you are trying to create. Actors in full-size costume would certainly work for, say, the Jizo, and certainly for the Frogs. When I adapted these tales, I had in mind a large, fanciful puppet, worked by one or two puppeteers in black for the White Crane, and a smaller puppet on a black-clad puppeteers arm for the Sparrow. These puppets can create an ethereal effect. If the puppets can be manipulated by long bamboo poles, they will appear to come to life on their own! As for the music, what I hear are flutes (either bamboo, wooded or modern) or recorders, a mandolin or ukulele (to sound like a lute), and deep drums (a homemade Taiko drum, or a modern floor tom). Winds and strings can be used underneath a story and between stories; drumming can be used to accentuate the action. One final note: the sequence of these stories only reflects the order that I completed my research. Please feel free to reorder these tales in any sequence that will help reflect the mood you are trying to create! SEL Dec. 2008 Acknowledgements: In order to put this collection of stories together, long winter hours were reading online from a wide variety of sources, going back and forth between versions, and researching the original Japanese. Like fables and folktales from any culture, these stories have been passed down from generation to generation, orally and in written form, so that now there are many, many versions for each of these tales. For my rendition of The Sparrow, for example, I found and used 6 different versions of a story known as The Tongue-Cut Sparrow! One of these versions was only half as long as my retelling; the longest was over five times the length of my final version, and went into great detail about many, many things that had little to do with the story itself! My journey began with, and often wound back to, two invaluable resources: Tales of Old Japan, which was compiled and translated by Algernon Bertram Freeman-Mitford (Baron Redesdale) in 1910, located at The Gutenberg Project (Gutenberg.org), and Japanese Fairy Tales, compiled and translated by Yei Theodora Ozaki (1906), located at Durendal.org. Japanese expressions and idioms were not always familiar to me, and various versions of stories often had different translations of names, characters or objects. I frequently referred to Denshi Jisho, an Online Japanese dictionary (Jisho.org) and Mahou (Magic) at Mahou.org to get at the meaning of a Japanese word or phrase, or to find the right English word to convey the true meaning of a passage. One or both of these resources was open at all times! I was very fortunate to find just the right traditional music to match these stories.Tom Potter, a computer programmer, mathematician and musician from Tennessee, annotated over a two dozen traditional Japanese folk tunes and made these avaliable royalty-free on his website (Daisyfield.com). I am very grateful for him and his work. SEL Jan. 2009

0. Kappore (A folk dance), as overture or opening dance 1. The White Crane tsuru
(puppet)

Characters for the stage: Old Man A White Crane

Old Wife Small Girl

Swirls of snow blew across the path as the old man started home. He had stayed out hunting longer than he should have, but he still had no luck. There would be no meat to put in the soup that his wife was cooking. He quickened his pace so that the storm would not overtake him before darkness set in. But then he heard a plaintive cry. Slowing his pace to look, he saw that a great bird had been caught in a hunters trap. It was struggling to free itself, its wings beating the ground and stirring up the snow. He drew nearer and saw that it was not a duck, or a goose, but a magnificent white crane. Hunger gnawed at the old man's stomach, but the crane was so beautiful that he could not kill it. He released it from the trap. The crane flew away swiftly and silently through the falling snow. Later that evening, after finishing their thin soup, the old man and his wife sat by the fire, glad to be warm while the storm howled outside. Soon there was a knock on the door, a timid knock scarcely able to be heard above the wind. "Who can that be?" said the old woman. "Who would be out on such a night?" Her husband went to the door at once. Opening it a crack, he saw a surprising sight. A small, slender girl, clad only in a summer garment, stood there trembling from the cold. "Come in! Come in!" said the old man. He led her to the fire. "You poor child!" said his wife. "Where did you come from, and why are you out on such a cold night?" "I lost my way," said the girl. "Can I stay with you until the storm is over?" "Of course," the old couple said. Seeing that she was extremely tired, they didn't ask any more questions that night. The girl was so beautiful and looked so frail that they were a little in awe of her. Soon the wife had tucked her into bed, where the girl fell into a deep sleep. For a week the storm raged. The old man finally went to the village to see if anyone knew the lost girl, but no one did. When he returned home, the girl was helping the old woman as she did every day. After talking it over with his wife, the old man said to the girl, "We would be pleased if you would stay with us for a while. Maybe someone will come looking for you, but until then, please stay as long as you'd like." The small girl smiled, and bowed reverently to her new foster parents. The days passed pleasantly and quickly. The girl was a great help around the house, and the old couple soon grew to love her gentle ways. One day the girl said to them, "You have been very kind to me. I think of you as my parents, and I want to repay you for your kindness. If you will buy me some thread, I will weave cloth that you can sell in the village." "You are like the daughter we never had," said the old woman. "You do not need to repay us." "Ah, but it would be my pleasure to weave," said the girl. "I have only one request. While I am weaving, please do not come into my room. No one must watch me weaving." Soon the loom was clicking and clacking, ton-ka-la-ton, ton-ka-la-ton. Far into the night and all the next day the girl worked. Early the following morning she brought out the cloth. Never had the old man and his wife seen such beautiful material such colors, such delicacy! "Now," said the girl, "you must take it to the village. You will get a good price for it, I think."

She was right. The old man was very pleased when he returned with many coins. "This will take care of us for some time," he said delightedly. A few weeks later the girl again went to the loom. Ton-ka-la-ton, ton-ka-la-ton. Again she came out with gorgeous cloth to be sold in the village. Winter gave way to spring, and pink cherry blossoms bloomed outside the window. Birds flew about singing in the sweet warm air. How good it was to plant the garden and to walk about together after the work had been done. One morning the girl said that she had envisioned weaving the most beautiful cloth of all. She danced about the house and could hardly wait for the old man to bring home the weaving thread. Then she went to her room and shut the door. For two days and two nights she worked. Tonka-laton, ton-ka-la-ton, day and night, hour after hour. On the third day, the old woman noticed that the door stood open, only a crack, but enough to see inside. She pointed it out to her husband. Perhaps they only meant to pass by, but curiosity got the best of them. They peeked in. There at the loom stood a great white crane, plucking out its feathers and weaving them into the cloth. Seeing this, the old woman gave a little gasp. The crane looked up. The old man and his wife turned away immediately, but it was too late. They went outside and sat down, saying nothing. A short time later, the girl came out carrying the most wonderful cloth anyone had ever seen. Its beauty was beyond description. With tears, she bowed low and gently said "My parents, now that you have seen me in my true form, I cannot stay with you any longer. This cloth will bring much fortune. It is my farewell gift to you." "Don't go! Don't go!" said the old man and the old woman. "We want you to stay with us forever. You are our daughter." "I'm sorry, my parents. I love you, but I must go." So saying, she changed again into the great white crane. She flew under the cherry tree, causing a shower of pink petals, and then rose up, up, up into the pale-blue spring sky. Sakura ( Cherry Blossom), on the Koto, Erhu, single Violin, Viola or Cello, or keyboard

2. O-Jizo san, The Grateful Statues

Characters: Old Man Old Wife 6 Jizo Prop: 6 Hats
(people, statues or puppets)

Essential

Once upon a time an old man and an old woman were living in a country village. 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, buy some rice-cakes with the money you make, and bring them back with you." 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." 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 cried out to him: "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 sell them, or bring home any rice-cakes. "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 than to have all the ricecakes 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-hea-ho!" (KayoKami (coming spirits), underneath to the end) 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. 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 were 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 couple had a very wonderful New Year's Day celebration after all, because now they had wonderful rice-cakes to eat.

3. The Two Frogs

Characters: Two Frogs

kajika

(people or puppets)

Once upon a time in the country of Japan there lived two frogs. One of whom made his home in a ditch near the town of Osaka, on the sea coast. The other dwelt in a clear little stream which ran through the city of Kyoto. At such a great distance apart, they had never even heard of each other; but, oddly enough, the idea came into both their heads at once that they should like to see a little of the world. The frog who lived at Kyoto wanted to visit Osaka and the sea, and the frog who lived at Osaka wished to go to Kyoto, where the great Mikado had his palace. So one fine morning in the spring they both set out along the road that led from Kyoto to Osaka, or, Osaka to Kyoto, one from one end and the other from the other. Takai-Yama ( - High Mountain) * The journey was more tiring than they expected, for they did not know much about traveling. Halfway between the two towns they both encountered a tremendous mountain, which had to be climbed. It took them a long time, many, many days and a great many hops to reach the top, but there they were at last, and what a surprise it was for each of them to be staring at another frog, face-to-face! They looked at each other for a moment without speaking, and then fell into conversation, explaining the cause of their meeting so far from their homes. It was delightful to find that they both felt the same wish - to learn a little more of their native country - and as neither of them was in no great hurry, they stretched themselves out in a cool, damp place, and agreed that they would have a good rest before they parted ways. "What a pity we are not bigger," said the Osaka frog, "for then we could see both cities from here, and tell if it is worth our while going on." "Oh, that is easily managed," returned the Kyoto frog. "We have only got to hold onto each other, and stand up on our hind legs, and then we can each look at the town he is traveling to." This idea pleased the Osaka frog so much that he at once jumped up and put his front paws on the shoulder of his friend, who had risen also. There they both stood, stretching themselves as high as they could, and holding each other tightly, so that they might not fall down. The Kyoto frog turned his nose towards Osaka, and the Osaka frog turned his nose towards Kyoto; but the foolish things forgot that when they stood up their great eyes lay in the backs of their heads, and that though their noses might point to the places to which they wanted to go, their eyes beheld the places from which they had come. The Osaka frog, blinking with his eyes, said, with a contemptuous smile, "Well, I have heard a great deal of talk about this Kyoto being as beautiful as the flowers, but it is just Osaka over again. It is certainly not worth such a long journey. I shall go home!" "If I had had any idea that Osaka was only a copy of Kyoto I should never have traveled all this way," exclaimed the frog from Kyoto, and as he spoke he took his hands from his friend's shoulders, and they both fell down on the grass. And after a moment of disappointment had passed, the two frogs politely bowed to one another, and hopped off home Takai-Yama To the end of their lives they believed that Osaka and Kyoto, as different as two cities can be, were as alike as two peas.
* The original words to this song, in Japanese, are: "As I gaze from the high mountain, Into the valley below, (Look now!), Cucumbers and eggplants are at their peak of blossoming." New English words could easily be written to fit the story and the meter of the music, for the frogs (or a chorus) to sing:

As I look from this high mountaintop, and I gaze at-the valley far below, Look at the sun and the sky and the bird! What a wonderful day to be on my own, to be on my way!

4. The Mirror of Matsuyama

tekagami

Essential Prop:

Characters: Man Wife Little Girl Older Girl Stepwife Handmirror

In ancient days there lived in a remote part of Japan a man and his wife, and they were blessed with a little girl, who was the pet and darling of her parents. On one occasion the man was called away on business in distant Kyoto. Before he went he told his daughter that if she were good and dutiful to her mother he would bring her back a present she would prize very highly. Then, with mother and daughter watching him go, the good man set out on his journey. "Now father has gone, you and I must take care of everything till he comes back," said the mother, as she made her way back to the house. They she set to work to make the winter clothes for the three of them. She set up her simple wooden spinning-wheel and spun the thread to make the cloth. In breaks from their work, she directed the little girl's games and taught her to read the old stories of her country. Thus did the wife find consolation in work during the lonely days of her husband's absence. While the time was thus slipping quickly by in the quiet home, the husband finally finished his business and began the long journey back home. When at last he returned, and after his wife and child had taken off his large hat and sandals, he sat down upon the white mats and opened a bamboo basket, watching the eager gaze of his little child. He took out a wonderful doll and a lacquer box of cakes and put them into her outstretched hands. "Here," he said to the little girl, "is a present for you. It is a prize for taking care of mother and the house so well while I was away." Again the husband reached into the basket, and this time brought out a square wooden box, carefully tied up with white string, and handing it to his wife, said: "And this is for you." The wife took the box, and opening it carefully took out an exquisite handmirror. Its convex surface shone brightly, while upon its back there was a design of pine trees and storks. Never had she seen such a thing in her life, and on gazing into it she was under the impression that another woman looked out upon her as she gazed with growing wonder. Her husband explained the mystery and bade her take great care of the mirror. Time passed away in the peaceful home, and the parents saw their fondest hopes realized as their daughter grew from childhood into a beautiful girl of sixteen. They reared her with unceasing love and care, and now their efforts were more than rewarded. What a comfort she was to her mother as she went about the house taking her part in the housekeeping, and how proud her father was of her, for she daily reminded him of her mother when he had first married her. But their happiness could not last forever, for one autumn the woman became very ill and there was no cure for her. Just before she died she called to her little daughter, and said: "Dear child, when I am dead take every care of your father. You will miss me when I have left you. But take this mirror, and when you feel most lonely look into it and you will always see me." Having said these words she passed away. Years passed, and in due time the man married again, and his new wife was not at all kind to her stepdaughter. But the little one, remembering her mother's words, would retire to a corner and eagerly look into the mirror, where it seemed to her that she saw her dear mother's face, not drawn in pain as she had seen it on her deathbed, but young and beautiful. One day this child's stepmother chanced to see her crouching in a corner over an object she could not quite see, murmuring to herself. This ignorant woman, who detested the child and believed that her stepdaughter detested her in return, fancied that this little one was performing some strange magical art - perhaps making an image and sticking

pins into it. Full of these notions, the stepmother went to her husband and told him that his wicked child was doing her best to kill her by witchcraft. As the master of the house had listened to her extraordinary tale, his heart was torn between doubting his wife and trusting his child, and he knew not what to do. He decided to go at once to his daughter and try to find out the truth. Comforting his wife and assuring her that her fears were groundless, he went straight to his daughter's room. He took her by surprise, and instant that the girl saw him she slipped the mirror into her sleeve. For the first time her doting father grew angry, and he feared that there was, after all, truth in what his wife had told him. Daughter, what are you doing? And what is that that you have hidden in your sleeve?" he said sternly. The girl was frightened by her father's severity. Never had he spoken to her in such a tone. She sat shamefaced, unable to reply. "Then, is it really true that you are daily cursing your step-mother and praying for her death? Have you forgotten what I told you, that although she is your step-mother you must he obedient and loyal to her? What evil spirit has taken possession of your heart that you should be so wicked? And the father's eyes filled with sudden tears to think that he should have to upbraid his daughter in this way. "Father! father! do not say such dreadful things to me. I am still your obedient child. Indeed, I am. Surely some one has been telling you lies, or some evil spirit has taken possession of YOUR heart. As for me I do not know of the evil of which you accuse me." "Then why are you always alone in your room these days? And tell me, what is that that you have hidden in your sleeve - show it to me at once." "The mirror you gave my mother, and which she on her deathbed gave to me. Every time I look into its shining surface I see the face of my dear mother, young and beautiful. When my heart aches - and oh! it has ached so much lately - I take out the mirror, and think about my mothers love. And mother's face, and sweet, kind smile, comes to me, and brings me peace, and helps me to bear all the harsh words and cross looks I have had to endure." Show me how you see your mothers face, the father said gently. The girl removed the mirror from its hiding place, regained her composure, thought of her mothers love and gentleness, and looked into the mirror. With that, the father understood, and loved his child all the more, both for her filial piety and for being her mothers daughter. The step-mother, anxious to know what was happening, had all this while been standing outside the room. At this moment she burst into the room, and dropping to her knees, she bowed her head over her outspread hands before her husband and step-daughter. "I am ashamed! I am ashamed!" she exclaimed in sobs. "I did not know what a devoted child you were. With a step-mother's jealous heart, I have disliked you all the time. As long as I live I shall never forget the wrong I have done you in so misjudging you, and in causing your father to suspect you. From this day I throw away my old and wicked heart, and I shall think of you as a child that I have borne myself. I shall love and cherish you with all my heart, and thus try to make up for all the unhappiness I have caused you. Give me, I beg of you, some of the filial love that you have given to your own lost mother." And this child, who believed she had seen her mother's face in the mirror, forgave, and trouble forever departed from their home.

5. The Stonecutter and the Mountain

Characters: Man

ishiku

Spirit (may not appear) Costumes: Work Clothes, Regal Robes, Sun-Cloud-Stone Robes

Once upon a time there lived a stonecutter. Every day, the stonecutter went to a great rock at the side of a huge mountain to cut out slabs for gravestones or for houses. He understood very well the different kinds of stones wanted for different purposes, and as he was a careful workman he had plenty of customers. For a long, long time he was quite happy and content, and asked for nothing better than what he had. In this mountain dwelt a spirit which now and then appeared to men, and helped them in many ways to become rich and prosperous. The stonecutter, however, had never seen this spirit, and only shook his head with an unbelieving air when anyone spoke of it. But a time was coming when he learned to change his opinion. One day the stonecutter carried a gravestone to the house of a rich man, and saw there all sorts of beautiful things, of which he had never even dreamed. Suddenly his daily work seemed to grow harder and heavier, and he said to himself: "Oh, if only I were a rich man, and could sleep in a bed with silken curtains and golden tassels, how happy I should be!" And a voice answered him: "Your wish is heard; a rich man you shall be!" At the sound of the voice the stonecutter looked around, but could see nobody. He thought it was all in his head, and picked up his tools and went home, for he did not feel inclined to do any more work that day. But when he reached the little house where he lived, he stood still with amazement, for instead of his wooden hut was a regal palace filled with splendid furniture, and most splendid of all was the bed, in every respect like the one he had envied. He was nearly beside himself with joy, and in his new life the old one was soon forgotten. It was now the beginning of summer, and each day the sun blazed more fiercely. One morning the heat was so great that the stonecutter could scarcely breathe, and he determined he would remain at home until evening. Since he had never had any free time before, and had never learned how to amuse himself, he passed the time by peeping through the closed blinds to see what was going on in the street. Soon, a little carriage passed by, drawn by servants dressed in blue and silver. In the carriage sat a prince, and over his head a golden umbrella was held, to protect him from the sun's rays. "Oh, if I were only a prince!" said the stonecutter to himself, as the carriage vanished around the corner. "Oh, if only I were a prince, and could go in such a carriage and have a golden umbrella held over me, how happy I should be!" And so a prince he became! He felt proud in his power. Before his carriage rode one company of men and another behind it; servants dressed in scarlet and gold bore him along, the coveted umbrella was held over his head, everything his heart could desire was his. But yet it was not enough. He looked around still for something to wish for, and when he saw that in spite of the umbrella held over his head each day his face grew browner and browner, he cried in his anger: "The sun is mightier than I; oh, if only I were the sun!" And the mountain spirit answered: "Your wish is heard; the sun you shall be." And so the sun he became! He felt proud in his power. He shot his beams above and below, on earth and in heaven; he burnt up the grass in the fields and scorched the faces of princes as well as of poorer folk.

But in a short time he began to grow tired of his might, for there seemed nothing left for him to do. Discontent once more filled his soul, and when a cloud covered his face, and hid the earth from him, he cried in his anger: "Does the cloud hold captive my rays, and is it mightier than I? Oh, if only I were a cloud, and mightier than any!" And the mountain spirit answered: "Your wish is heard; a cloud you shall be!" And so a cloud he became! He felt proud in his power. He caught the sun's beams and held them, and to his joy the earth grew green again and flowers blossomed. But that was not enough for him, and for days and week he poured forth rain till the rivers overflowed their banks, and the crops of rice stood in water. Towns and villages were destroyed by the power of the rain, only the great rock on the mountainside remained unmoved. The cloud was amazed at the sight, and cried in wonder: "Is the rock, then, mightier than I? Oh, if only I were the rock!" And the mountain spirit answered; "Your wish is heard; the rock you shall be!" And so the rock he became! He felt proud in his power. Strong he stood, and neither the heat of the sun nor the force of the rain could move him. "This is better than all!" he said to himself. But one day he heard a strange noise at his feet, and when he looked down to see what it could be, he saw a stonecutter driving tools into his surface. Even while he looked a trembling feeling ran all through him, and a great block broke off and fell upon the ground. Then he cried in his wrath: "Is a mere child of earth mightier than a rock? Oh, if I were only a man!" And the mountain spirit answered: "Your wish is heard. A man once more you shall be!" And so a man he became, and in the sweat of his brow he toiled again at his trade of stone cutting. His bed was hard and his food scanty, but he had learned to be satisfied with it, and did not long to be something or somebody else. And as he never asked for things he did not have, or desired to be greater and mightier than other people, he was happy at last, and never again heard the voice of the mountain spirit.

6. Momotaro
A story and a dance
Characters:

Old Woodcutter Wife Momotaro Monkey, Pheasant, Dog (people or puppets)

Many hundred years ago there lived an old woodcutter and his wife. They were very poor but very honorable. One fine morning the old man went off to the hills with his billhook to gather a bundle of sticks, while his wife went down to the river to wash the dirty clothes. When she came to the river, she saw a peach floating down the stream; she picked it up, and carried it home with her, thinking to give it to her husband to eat when he should come in. The old man soon came down from the hills, and the good wife set the peach before him, when, just as she was inviting him to eat it, the fruit split in two, and a beautiful little baby was born into the world. So the old couple took the babe, and brought it up as their own; and, because it had been born in a peach, they called it Momotaro, which means Little Peachling. As the years passed, Momotaro grew up to be strong and brave. He loved his foster parents, and was deeply devoted to them, ever mindful of how they had rescued and raised him even in their own poverty. He was grieved by their difficult life, and their neverending labor just to survive. At last one day, he could stand it no longer. He said to his old foster parents: "I must do something to help you. I am going to the ogres' island to carry off the riches that they have stored up there. Make me some millet dumplings for my journey, and pray that they will make me strong and courageous." So the old folks ground the millet, and made the dumplings for him; and Momotaro, after a tearful good-bye, set out on his adventure. As he was journeying on, a monkey began following alongside. After a while, the monkey began to gibber at him, and said: "Kia! kia! kia! Where are you off to, Momotaro?" "I'm going to the ogres' island, to carry off their treasure," answered Momotaro. "What are you carrying at your bag?" "I'm carrying the very best millet dumplings in all Japan." What makes your dumplings so special, said the monkey. They were made with all my parents love, and blessed with all their heart, said Momotaro. "If you'll give me one, I will go with you. I will help you." said the monkey. So Momotaro gave one of his dumplings to the monkey, who, true to his word, followed him. When he had gone a little further, he heard a pheasant calling: "Ken! ken! ken! Where are you off to, Master Momotaro?"

Momotaro answered as before; and the pheasant, having begged and obtained a millet dumpling, entered his service, and followed him. A little while after this, they met a dog, who cried: "Bow! wow! wow! Where are you going, Master Momotaro?" "I'm going off to the ogres' island, to carry off their treasure." "If you will give me one of those nice millet dumplings of yours, I will go with you," said the dog. "Join us!" said Momotaro. So they went on their way - the monkey, the pheasant, and the dog following after Momotaro. By the time they had reached the ogres' island, they had carefully planned their attack. The pheasant flew over the castle gate, and the monkey clambered over the castle wall, while Momotaro and the dog forced their way into the gate. They did battle with the ogres, who ran and hid in terror, and they took the ogre king prisoner. So all the ogres did homage to Momotaro, and brought out the treasures which they had laid up. There was gold and silver, of course, but also coral, musk, emeralds, and amber. The ogres also presented and caps and coats that made their wearers strong and warm, and tortoise shell jewels which governed the ebb and flow of the tide. All these were laid before Momotaro by the conquered ogres. Momotaro went home laden with riches, and was able to support his foster parents in peace and plenty for the remainder of their lives.

7. The Wonderful Teakettle

A story and a dance
Characters for the stage: Priest Tinker

chagama

Teakettle/Badger (person or puppet)

A long time ago, at a temple called Morinji, in the province of Jshiu, there was an old tea-kettle. One day, when the priest of the temple was about to hang it over the hearth to boil the water for his tea, to his amazement, the kettle all of a sudden put forth the head and tail of a badger. What a wonderful kettle it came out in fur all over! The priest, thunderstruck, called in the novices of the temple to see the sight; and whilst they were staring at it stupidly, one suggesting one thing and another, the kettle, jumping up into the air, began flying about the room. More astonished than ever, the priest and his pupils tried to catch it, but no thief or cat was ever half so sharp as this wonderful badger-kettle. At last, however, they managed to knock it down and secure it; and, holding it in with their united efforts, they forced it into a box, intending to carry it off and throw it away in some distant place, so that they might be no more plagued by the demon. For this day their troubles were over; but, as luck would have it, the tinker who was in the habit of working for the temple called in, and the priest suddenly thought that it was a pity to throw the kettle away for nothing, and that he might as well get a trifle for it, no matter how small. So he brought out the kettle, which had resumed its former shape and had got rid of its head and tail, and showed it to the tinker. When the tinker saw the kettle, he offered twenty copper coins for it, and the priest was only too glad to close the bargain and be rid of this troublesome piece. The tinker trudged off home with his new purchase. That night, as he lay asleep, he heard a strange noise near his pillow. He peeped out from under the bedclothes, and there he saw the kettle that he had bought in the temple covered with fur, and walking about on four legs. The tinker jumped up in a fright to see what it could all mean, when all of a sudden the kettle resumed its former shape. This happened over and over again, until at last the tinker showed the teakettle to a friend of his, who said, "This is certainly a lucky teakettle! You should take it on tour, with songs and accompaniments of musical instruments, and make it dance. Youll make a fortune!! And so he did! Echigo-Jishi () (complex) or Gonbe ga Tanemaku (simpler)

8. The Old Man Who Made Withered Trees Bloom

Characters for the stage: Old Fellow Old Wife Dog (person or puppet) Neighbors Essential Prop: Mortar (ceramic bowl will work) Silver coins Basket Tree

In the old, old days, there lived an good old fellow with his wife, who had a favorite dog, which they used to feed with tidbits from their own kitchen. One day, the old folks went out to work in their garden, and the dog went with them, playing about. All of a sudden, the dog stopped short, and began to bark, "Bow, wow, wow!" wagging his tail enthusiastically. The old people thought that there must be something nice to eat under the ground, so they brought a spade and began digging, when, lo and behold the place was full of gold and silver pieces, and all sorts of precious things which had been buried there! They gathered the treasure together, and, after giving alms to the poor, bought themselves rice-fields and corn-fields, and became wealthy people. Now, in the next house there dwelt a greedy and stingy old couple, who, when they heard what had happened, came and borrowed the dog, and, having taken him home, prepared a great feast for him, and said, "If you please, Mr. Dog, we should be much obliged to you if you would show us a place with plenty of money in it." The dog, however, who up to that time had received nothing but curses and kicks from these neighbors, would not eat any of the treats which they set before him. The old people became impatient, and, putting a rope round the dog's neck, dragged him out into the garden. But it was all in vain - lead him where they might, not a sound would the dog utter. At last, however, the dog stopped at a certain spot, and began to sniff. Thinking that this must surely be the lucky place, they dug, and found nothing but a quantity of nasty rotting compost, over which they had to hold their noses. Furious at being disappointed, the wicked old couple seized the dog and killed him with their shovels. When the good old fellow saw that the dog did not come home, he went next door to ask what had become of him, and the wicked old man answered that he had killed the dog, and buried him at the root of a pinetree. The good old fellow, with, a heavy heart, went to the spot, and set out a tray with delicate food, burnt incense, adorned the grave with flowers, and shed tears over his lost pet. But there was more good luck in store yet for these old people - the reward of their honesty and virtue. That night, when the good old fellow was in bed fast asleep, the spirit of the dog appeared to him, and, after thanking him for all his kindness, said, "Cut down the pine-tree under which I am buried, and make its ash into a mortar stone for grinding your grain." The good old fellow did as the spirit dog had told him to do, and made a mortar out of the ash of the pine-tree, but when he ground his rice in it, each grain was turned into a silver coin! When the wicked old couple saw this, they came to borrow the mortar. Not wishing to deny a poor neighbor in need, the good old

fellow agreed; but no sooner did they try to use the mortar, than all their rice rotted. In a fit of rage, they smashed the mortar to pieces. The good old fellow little suspected that his precious mortar had been broken to bits. One night the spirit of the dog appeared to him again in a dream, and told him what had happened. The spirit told him that if he would take the crumbled pieces of the mortar and sprinkle a few of them on withered trees, the trees would revive and put out flowers. After saying this, the dream vanished. The good old fellow ran off weeping to the neighbors' house, and begged them to give him back the pieces of his precious mortar. Having obtained these, he returned home, and sprinkled a few pieces upon a withered cherry-tree, which immediately began to sprout and blossom. When he saw this wonderful effect, he put the rest of the pieces into a basket, and went about the country, announcing himself as a man had the power of bringing dead trees to life again. A prince, hearing of this, and thinking it a mighty strange thing, sent for the old fellow, who showed his power by causing all the withered cherry-trees in the royal garden to shoot out and put forth flowers. The grateful prince gave him a rich reward of silk and jewels and other presents, and sent him home rejoicing. As soon as the neighbors heard of this, the wicked old man collected all the pieces and pebbles and dirt they could find, put them in a basket, and set off for the castle town, announcing that he too had the power of reviving dead trees and causing them to flower. He had not to wait long before he was called into the prince's palace, and ordered to exhibit his power. But when he approached a withered plum tree and sprinkled pieces around it, neither a bud nor a flower appeared - the debris all flew into the prince's eyes and mouth, blinding and choking him. When the prince's guards saw this, they seized the old man and beat him almost to death. He crawled off home, a broken and battered wreck. Miyasan (My Prince), as the Spirit Dogs Dance actual ending: The good old man and woman, so soon as they heard of their neighbors' distress, sent for them, and, after reproving them for their greed and cruelty, gave them a share of their own riches, which, by now had now increased to a vast sum. So the wicked old people mended their ways, and led good and virtuous lives ever after.

9. The Woodsman and the Oshi yamaotoko

Characters: Woodsman Old Priest Woodsmans Wife Fox (person or puppet) 2 Lovely Ladies Old Woman

Many years ago there lived on the then barren plain of Suruga a woodsman by the name of Visu. Visu was a giant in stature, and lived in a hut with his wife and children. One day Visu received a visit from an Oshi, an old priest, who said: "Honorable woodsman, I am afraid you never pray." Visu replied: "If you had a wife and a large family to keep, you would never have time to pray either!" This remark made the priest angry, and Oshi gave the woodcutter a vivid description of the horror of being reborn as a toad, or a mouse, or an insect for millions of years. Such lurid details frightened Visu, and he accordingly promised the priest that in future he would pray. Unfortunately, Visu did nothing but pray. He prayed all day long and refused to do any work, so that his rice crops withered and his wife and family starved. Visu's wife, who had never said a harsh or bitter word to her husband, now became extremely angry, and, pointing to the poor thin bodies of her children, exclaimed: "Visu! Take up your ax and do something more helpful to us than mumbling prayers!" Visu was utterly amazed at what his wife. His reply came hot and strong to the ears of his poor wife. "Woman, the Gods come first. You are impertinent to speak to me so, and I will have nothing more to do with you!" Visu snatched up his ax and, without looking round to say farewell, he left the hut, strode out of the wood, and climbed up Mt. Fujiyama, where a mist hid him from sight. Visu had just seated himself upon the mountain to resume his prayers, when he heard a soft rustling sound, and immediately afterward saw a fox dart into a thicket. Visu deemed seeing a fox an extremely lucky omen, and, forgetting his prayers, he sprang up and ran after the little creature. Coming to an open space in a wood, he saw two lovely ladies sitting down by a brook playing Go. The woodsman was so completely fascinated that he could do nothing but sit down and watch them. There was no sound except the soft click of pieces on the board and the song of the running brook. These ladies took no notice of Visu, for the game entirely absorbed their attention, and seemed to have no end. Visu could not keep his eyes off these fair women. He watched their long black hair and the gentle hands that shot out from their big silk sleeves as they moved the pieces. After he had been sitting there for what seemed like a long summer's afternoon, he saw that one of the players had made a false move. "Wrong, most lovely lady!" he exclaimed excitedly. Startled, these women instantly turned into foxes, and then these spirits vanished. When Visu attempted to pursue them he found to his horror that his limbs were terribly stiff, that his hair was very long, and that his beard touched the ground. He discovered, moreover, that the handle of his ax, though made of the hardest wood, had crumbled away into a little heap of dust. After painful efforts, Visu was able to stand on his feet and proceed very slowly toward his little home. When he reached the spot he was surprised to see no hut, and, perceiving a very old woman, he said: "Good lady, I am amazed to find that my little home has disappeared. I went away this afternoon, and now in the evening it has vanished!"

The old woman, who believed that a madman was addressing her, inquired his name. When she was told, she exclaimed: "Bah! You must indeed be mad! Visu lived three hundred years ago! He went away one day, and he never came back again." "Three hundred years!" cried Visu. "It cannot be possible. Where are my dear wife and children?" "Buried!" hissed the old woman, "and, if what you say is true, you children's children too. The Gods have prolonged your miserable life in punishment for having neglected your wife and children." Big tears ran down Visu's withered cheeks as he said in a weak voice: "I have lost my manhood. I have prayed when my dear ones starved and needed the labor of my once strong hands. Old woman, remember my last words: "If you pray, work too!" The spirit of poor, repenant Visu is still said to haunt Mt. Fujiyama to this very day.

10. The Sparrow

suzume

Characters: Old Man Old Wife Sparrow, Sparrow s Daughter, Evil Spirit(s) (people or puppets) Essential Props: Baskets Jewels/Gifts

There was once an old man who had a wife with a very bad temper and a very nasty mouth. All day and all night, she criticized, complained, yelled and grumbled. She never gave him any peace. Whatever comfort and peace he felt came from his pet, a tiny sparrow, which he fed and cared for with simple tenderness. The mean old woman, not satisfied with scolding her husband, hated the sparrow as well. Now the old woman's temper was especially bad on cooking days, when her old back and knees strained over the table and cook stove. One day she was preparing to bake some bread, and set the dough in a red wooden bowl to rise. While her back was turned, the sparrow hopped down on the edge of the bowl, and pecked at some of the dough. In a rage, the old hag seized a cooking knife and cut the sparrow's tongue out. Flinging the bird in the air she cried out, "Now be off. Starve to death!" So the poor sparrow, all bleeding, flew away. When the old man came home from the hills and found that the bird was gone, he asked what had become of it; the mean old woman answered that she had cut its tongue and cast it out because it had ruined her cakes. The old man, hearing this cruel tale, was sorely grieved, and thought to himself: "Poor thing! Poor little sparrow! Where is your home now?" He immediately left, and wandered far and wide, seeking for his pet, crying: "Suzume! Suzume! Where are you?", searching and calling everywhere. After many, many weeks of searching, he found himself near a large bamboo wood. Bamboo groves are the favorite haunts of sparrows, and sure enough at the edge of the wood he saw his own dear sparrow waiting to welcome him. They both cried "O-hio!", bowed low, and rejoiced to find each other. After such a greeting, the sparrow led the old man to his new home, and introduced him to his new wife and chicks. The old man went in and found a nice little house with a bamboo garden, tiny waterfall, stepping stone, and everything complete. "Please partake of our humble fare," said the sparrow. Poor as it is, you are very welcome." "What a polite sparrow!" answered the old man, who remained for a long time as the sparrow's guest, and was feasted daily with slices of sugar-jelly, rock-candy, and sweet potato custard. The sparrows elder daughter brought the tea caddy and teapot, which she offered on a tray, kneeling. For several days the old man enjoyed himself at the sparrow's home. He looked at the landscapes and the moonlight, feasted to his heart's content, and played Go with his host. Every evening, the sparrows would bring out the refreshments and the wine, and seat the old man on a silken cushion, while the sparrows daughters danced, sung, and made merry. The delighted old man, leaning on the velvet armrest, forgot his cares, his old limbs, and his wife's vicious tongue, and felt like a youth again. On the fifth day, the old man, not wishing to overstay his welcome, said he must go home. The bird offered him two wicker baskets, begged him to carry them with him as a parting present. One of the baskets was heavy, and the other was light, and the old man, not to be greedy, said that he was feeble and stricken in years and would only accept the light one. So with many thanks and bows and good-byes, he shouldered his gift, and set off homewards, leaving the sparrow family to grieve at his parting. He reached his hut safely, but instead of a kind welcome, the old hag grew very angry, and began to scold him for being away so long, saying: "Well, and pray where have you been these many weeks? A pretty thing, indeed, to be gadding about at your time of life!"

"Oh!" he replied, "I have been on a visit to the sparrows; and when I came away, they gave me this wicker basket as a parting gift." He opened the basket, and such a splendid sight froze her scowling tounge - there were gold and silver coins, gems, coral, and crystal - all manner of precious things. At the sight of so much wealth, the old hag's scowl changed to a smile of greedy joy. "I'll go and call upon the sparrows, too," said she, "and get a pretty present for myself." She asked the old man the way to the sparrows' house, and binding on her straw sandals, and tucking up her skirts, she seized her staff and set off on the road. Arriving at the sparrow's house she began to flatter Mr. Sparrow by soft speeches. Of course the polite sparrow invited her into his house, but nothing but a cup of tea was offered her, and his wife and daughters kept away. Seeing she was not going to get any good-bye gift, the brazen hussy asked for one. The sparrow then brought out and set before her two baskets, one heavy and the other light. Taking the heavier one without so much as saying "thank you," she carried it back with her. Then she opened it, expecting all kinds of riches. She had walked only a short way, when her curiosity got the best of her. She put down her heavy burden, and lifted off the lid to peek at her treasure. Treasure indeed! A whole swarm of horrible creatures burst from the basket the moment she opened it. They stung her and bit her, they pushed her and pulled her, they scratched her and coiled around her, cracking her bones, and squeezing out her breath. They picked her up, and flew away with her limp body. Since then nothing has ever been heard of the mean old woman. The good old man lived in quiet and at ease all the rest of his days. .