| A Special Christmas Story: The Gift of the Magi by O. Henry | |
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19 December 2008 |
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ANNOUNCER:
(MUSIC)
We present a special Christmas story called "The Gift of the Magi" by O. Henry. Here is Shep O'Neal with the story.
STORYTELLER:
One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it in the smallest pieces of money - pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by negotiating with the men at the market who sold vegetables and meat. Negotiating until one's face burned with the silent knowledge of being poor. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.
There was clearly nothing to do but sit down and cry. So Della cried. Which led to the thought that life is made up of little cries and smiles, with more little cries than smiles.
Della finished her crying and dried her face. She stood by the window and looked out unhappily at a gray cat walking along a gray fence in a gray back yard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only one dollar and eighty-seven cents to buy her husband Jim a gift. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result.
Jim earned twenty dollars a week, which does not go far. Expenses had been greater than she had expected. They always are. Many a happy hour she had spent planning to buy something nice for him. Something fine and rare -- something close to being worthy of the honor of belonging to Jim.
There was a tall glass mirror between the windows of the room. Suddenly Della turned from the window and stood before the glass mirror and looked at herself. Her eyes were shining, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Quickly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.
Now, Mister and Missus James Dillingham Young had two possessions which they valued. One was Jim's gold time piece, the watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair.
Had the Queen of Sheba lived in their building, Della would have let her hair hang out the window to dry just to reduce the value of the queen's jewels.
So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her, shining like a brown waterfall. It reached below her knees and made itself almost like a covering for her. And then quickly she put it up again. She stood still while a few tears fell on the floor.
She put on her coat and her old brown hat. With a quick motion and brightness still in her eyes, she danced out the door and down the street.
Where she stopped the sign read: "Madame Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." Della ran up the steps to the shop, out of breath.
"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.
"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take your hat off and let us have a look at it."
Down came the beautiful brown waterfall of hair.
"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the hair with an experienced hand.
"Give it to me quick," said Della.
(MUSIC)
The next two hours went by as if they had wings. Della looked in all the stores to choose a gift for Jim.
She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. It was a chain -- simple round rings of silver. It was perfect for Jim's gold watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be for him. It was like him. Quiet and with great value. She gave the shopkeeper twenty-one dollars and she hurried home with the eighty-seven cents that was left.
When Della arrived home she began to repair what was left of her hair. The hair had been ruined by her love and her desire to give a special gift. Repairing the damage was a very big job.
Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny round curls of hair that made her look wonderfully like a schoolboy. She looked at herself in the glass mirror long and carefully.
"If Jim does not kill me before he takes a second look at me," she said to herself, "he'll say I look like a song girl. But what could I do--oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty-seven cents?"
At seven o'clock that night the coffee was made and the pan on the back of the stove was hot and ready to cook the meat.
Jim was never late coming home from work. Della held the silver chain in her hand and sat near the door. Then she heard his step and she turned white for just a minute. She had a way of saying a little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."
(MUSIC)
The door opened and Jim stepped in. He looked thin and very serious. Poor man, he was only twenty-two and he had to care for a wife. He needed a new coat and gloves to keep his hands warm.
Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a dog smelling a bird. His eyes were fixed upon Della. There was an expression in them that she could not read, and it frightened her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor fear, nor any of the feelings that she had been prepared for. He simply looked at her with a strange expression on his face. Della went to him.
"Jim, my love," she cried, "do not look at me that way. I had my hair cut and sold because I could not have lived through Christmas without giving you a gift. My hair will grow out again. I just had to do it. My hair grows very fast. Say 'Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let us be happy. You do not know what a nice-- what a beautiful, nice gift I have for you."
"You have cut off your hair?" asked Jim, slowly, as if he had not accepted the information even after his mind worked very hard.
"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Do you not like me just as well? I am the same person without my hair, right?
Jim looked about the room as if he were looking for something.
"You say your hair is gone?" he asked.
"You need not look for it," said Della. "It is sold, I tell you--sold and gone, too. It is Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it was cut for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the meat on, Jim?"
Jim seemed to awaken quickly and put his arms around Della. Then he took a package from his coat and threw it on the table.
"Do not make any mistake about me, Dell," he said. "I do not think there is any haircut that could make me like my girl any less. But if you will open that package you may see why you had me frightened at first."
White fingers quickly tore at the string and paper. There was a scream of joy; and then, alas! a change to tears and cries, requiring the man of the house to use all his skill to calm his wife.
For there were the combs -- the special set of objects to hold her hair that Della had wanted ever since she saw them in a shop window. Beautiful combs, made of shells, with jewels at the edge --just the color to wear in the beautiful hair that was no longer hers. They cost a lot of money, she knew, and her heart had wanted them without ever hoping to have them. And now, the beautiful combs were hers, but the hair that should have touched them was gone.
But she held the combs to herself, and soon she was able to look up with a smile and say, "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"
Then Della jumped up like a little burned cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"
Jim had not yet seen his beautiful gift. She happily held it out to him in her open hands. The silver chain seemed so bright.
"Isn't it wonderful, Jim? I looked all over town to find it. You will have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."
Instead of obeying, Jim fell on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.
"Dell," said he, "let us put our Christmas gifts away and keep them a while. They are too nice to use just right now. I sold my gold watch to get the money to buy the set of combs for your hair. And now, why not put the meat on."
(MUSIC)
The magi were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Baby Jesus. They invented the art of giving Christmas gifts. Being wise, their gifts were wise ones. And here I have told you the story of two young people who most unwisely gave for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days, let it be said that of all who give gifts, these two were the wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.
(MUSIC)
ANNOUNCER:
You have heard the American story "The Gift of the Magi." This story was written by O. Henry and adapted into Special English by Karen Leggett. Your storyteller was Shep O'Neal. The producer was Lawan Davis.
I'm Shirley Griffith.
| Short Story: 'Feathertop' by Nathaniel Hawthorne | |
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13 December 2008 |
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ANNOUNCER: Now, the VOA Special English program AMERICAN STORIES.
(MUSIC)
Our story today is called “Feathertop.” It was written by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Here is Shep O’Neal with the story.
(MUSIC)
STORYTELLER: The long cold winter was gone at last. At first the cold nights went away slowly. Then suddenly, the warm days of spring started to come. There was new life again in the earth. Things started to grow and come up. For the first time, green corn plants began to show. They pushed through the soil and could now be seen above the ground.
After the long winter months, the crows, the big black birds, were hungry. And when they saw the little green plants, they flew down to eat them. Old Mother Rigby tried to make the noisy and hungry birds go away. They made her very angry. She did not want the black birds to eat her corn. But the birds would not go away. So, early one morning, just as the sun started to rise, Mother Rigby jumped out of bed. She had a plan to stop those black birds from eating her corn.
Mother Rigby could do anything. She was a witch, a woman with strange powers. She could make water run uphill, or change a beautiful woman into a white horse. Many nights when the moon was full and bright, she could be seen flying over the tops of the houses in the village, sitting on a long wooden stick. It was a broomstick, and it helped her to do all sorts of strange tricks.
(MUSIC)
Mother Rigby ate a quick breakfast and then started to work on her broomstick. She was planning to make something that would look like a man. It would fill the birds with fear, and scare them from eating her corn, the way most farmers protect themselves from those black, pesky birds.
Mother Rigby worked quickly. She held her magic broomstick straight, and then tied another piece of wood across it. And already, it began to look like a man with arms.
Then she made the head. She put a pumpkin, a vegetable the size of a football, on top of the broomstick. She made two small holes in the pumpkin for eyes, and made another cut lower down that looked just like a mouth.
At last, there he was. He seemed ready to go to work for Mother Rigby and stop those old birds from eating her corn. But, Mother Rigby was not happy with what she made. She wanted to make her scarecrow look better and better, for she was a good worker. She made a purple coat and put it around her scarecrow, and dressed it in white silk stockings. She covered him with false hair and an old hat. And in that hat, she stuck the feather of a bird.
She examined him closely, and decided she liked him much better now, dressed up in a beautiful coat, with a fine feather on top of his hat. And, she named him Feathertop.
She looked at Feathertop and laughed with happiness. He is a beauty, she thought. “Now what?” she thought, feeling troubled again. She felt that Feathertop looked too good to be a scarecrow. “He can do something better,” she thought, “than just stand near the corn all summer and scare the crows.” And she decided on another plan for Feathertop.
She took the pipe of tobacco she was smoking and put it into the mouth of Feathertop. “Puff, darling, puff,” she said to Feathertop. “Puff away, my fine fellow.” It is your life.” Smoke started to rise from Feathertop’s mouth. At first, it was just a little smoke, but Feathertop worked hard, blowing and puffing. And, more and more smoke came out of him.
“Puff away, my pet,” Mother Rigby said, with happiness. “Puff away, my pretty one. Puff for your life, I tell you.” Mother Rigby then ordered Feathertop to walk. “Go forward,” she said. “You have a world before you.”
Feathertop put one hand out in front of him, trying to find something for support. At the same time he pushed one foot forward with great difficulty. But Mother Rigby shouted and ordered him on, and soon he began to go forward. Then she said, “you look like a man, and you walk like a man. Now I order you to talk like a man.”
Feathertop gasped, struggled, and at last said in a small whisper, “Mother, I want to speak, but I have no brain. What can I say?”
“Ah, you can speak,” Mother Rigby answered. “What shall you say? Have no fear. When you go out into the world, you will say a thousand things, and say them a thousand times…and saying them a thousand times again and again, you still will be saying nothing. So just talk, babble like a bird. Certainly you have enough of a brain for that.”
(MUSIC)
Mother Rigby gave Feathertop much money and said “Now you are as good as any of them and can hold your head high with importance.”
But she told Feathertop that he must never lose his pipe and must never let it stop smoking. She warned him that if his pipe ever stopped smoking, he would fall down and become just a bundle of sticks again.
“Have no fear, Mother,” Feathertop said in a big voice and blew a big cloud of smoke out of his mouth.
“On your way,” Mother Rigby said, pushing Feathertop out the door. “The world is yours. And if anybody asks you for your name, just say Feathertop. For you have a feather in your hat and a handful of feathers in your empty head.”
Feathertop found the streets in town, and many people started to look at him. They looked at his beautiful purple coat and his white silk stockings, and at the pipe he carried in his left hand, which he put back into his mouth every five steps he walked. They thought he was a visitor of great importance.
“What a fine, noble face” one man said. “He surely is somebody,” said another. “A great leader of men.”
(MUSIC)
As Feathertop walked along one of the quieter streets near the edge of town, he saw a very pretty girl standing in front of a small red brick house. A little boy was standing next to her. The pretty girl smiled at Feathertop, and love entered her heart. It made her whole face bright with sunlight.
Feathertop looked at her and had a feeling he never knew before. Suddenly, everything seemed a little different to him. The air was filled with a strange excitement. The sunlight glowed along the road, and people seemed to dance as they moved through the streets. Feathertop could not stop himself, and walked toward the pretty smiling young girl. As he got closer, the little boy at her side pointed his finger at Feathertop and said, “Look, Polly! The man has no face. It is a pumpkin.”
Feathertop moved no closer, but turned around and hurried through the streets of the town toward his home. When Mother Rigby opened the door, she saw Feathertop shaking with emotion. He was puffing on his pipe with great difficulty and making sounds like the clatter of sticks, or the rattling of bones.
“What’s wrong?” Mother Rigby asked.
“I am nothing, Mother. I am not a man. I am just a puff of smoke. I want to be something more than just a puff of smoke.” And Feathertop took his pipe, and with all his strength smashed it against the floor. He fell down and became a bundle of sticks as his pumpkin face rolled toward the wall.
“Poor Feathertop,” Mother Rigby said, looking at the heap on the floor. “He was too good to be a scarecrow. And he was too good to be a man. But he will be happier, standing near the corn all summer and protecting it from the birds. So I will make him a scarecrow again.”
(MUSIC)
ANNOUNCER: You have heard the American story, “Feathertop.” It was written by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Your storyteller was Shep O’Neal. The producer was Lawan Davis. Listen again next week at this time for another American story in V.O.A. Special English. I’m Steve Ember.
ANNOUNCER:
Now, the Special English program, American Stories.
(MUSIC)
ANNOUNCER:
Welcome to the fourth and last part of our program, “A Princess of Mars.” The story is from a series of books by Edgar Rice Burroughs.
Last week, we told how John Carter observed a fierce battle between the green Martians and a race of red, human-like creatures. He also saw the beautiful Princess Dejah Thoris being captured after the battle.
A short time later, John Carter, the Princess and their friend, the green Martian woman Sola, attempt to escape rather than face death. The Princess and Sola must flee while John Carter tries to slow the green warriors who are chasing them. John Carter continues to tell what happens in Edgar Rice Burroughs’ story, “A Princess of Mars.”
(MUSIC)
JOHN CARTER:
The huge green warrior Tars Tarkas came slowly toward me with his thin sword. I backed away. I did not want to fight him. I did not wish his death. He had been as kind to me as a green Martian can be.
As I stood watching him, a rifle fired in the distance, then another and another. Tars Tarkas and his warriors were under attack from another tribe of green warriors.
(SOUND EFFECTS)
Within seconds, a terrible battle raged. As I watched, three of the attackers fell on Tars Tarkas. He killed one and was fighting with the other two when he slipped and fell.
I ran to his aid, swinging my sword. He was on his feet. Shoulder-to-shoulder, we fought against the attackers. They finally withdrew after an hour of fierce fighting.
TARS TARKAS:
John Carter, I think I understand the meaning of the word “friend.” You saved my life when I was about to take yours. From this day, you are no longer a captive among our people, but a leader and great warrior among us.
JOHN CARTER:
There was a smile on his face. Once again, he took off a metal band from his arm and gave it to me.
TARS TARKAS:
I have a question for you John Carter. I understand why you took the red woman with you. But why did Sola leave her people and go with you?
JOHN CARTER:
She did not want to see me or the Princess harmed. She does not like the great games held by your people where captives are led to die. She knows if she is caught, she too will die in the games. She told me she hates the games because her mother died there.
TARS TARKAS:
What? How could she know her mother?
JOHN CARTER:
She told me her mother was killed in the games because she had hidden the egg that produced her. Her mother hid Sola among other children before she was captured. Sola said she was a kind woman, not like others of your tribe.
Tars Tarkas grew angry as I was speaking. But I could see past his anger. I could see pain in his eyes. I immediately knew Sola’s great secret.
I have a question for you, Tars Tarkas. Did you know Sola’s mother?
TARS TARKAS:
Yes… and if I could have, I would have prevented her death. I know this story to be true. I have always known the woman who died in those games had a child. I never knew the child. I do now. Sola is also my child.
(MUSIC)
JOHN CARTER:
For three days, we followed the trail left by the Princess Dejah Thoris, Sola and poor ugly Woola. At last, we could see them in the distance. Their animal could no longer be ridden. They were talking. When we came near, Woola turned to fight us. I slowly walked to him with my hand out.
Sola was standing nearby. She was armed and prepared to fight. The princess was lying next to her feet.
Sola, what is wrong with the princess?
SOLA:
She has been crying much these past few days, John Carter. We believed you died so we could escape. The thought of your death was very heavy on this woman…my friend Dejah Thoris. Come and tell her you are among the living. Perhaps that will stop her crying.
JOHN CARTER:
I walked to where the Princess Dejah Thoris was lying on the ground. She looked at me with eyes that were red from crying.
Princess, you are no longer in danger. Tars Tarkas has come with me as a friend. He and his warriors will help to see you safely home.
And..Sola! I would have you greet your father -- Tars Tarkas -- a great leader among your people. Your secret no longer means death to anyone. He already knows you are his daughter. The two of you have nothing to fear.
Sola turned and looked at Tars Tarkas. She held out her hand. He took it. It was a new beginning for them.
DEJAH THORIS:
I know our world has never before seen anyone like you, John Carter. Can it be that all Earthmen are like you? I was alone, a stranger, hunted, threatened. Yet you would freely give your life to save me.
You come to me now with a tribe of green warriors who offer their friendship. You are no longer a captive but wear the metal of great rank among their people. No man has ever done this.
JOHN CARTER:
Princess, I have done many strange things in my life, many things much smarter men would not have done. And now, before my courage fails, I would ask you, to be mine in marriage.
She smiled at me for a moment and then her dark eyes flashed in the evening light.
DEJAH THORIS:
You have no need of your courage, John Carter, because you already knew the answer before you asked the question.
JOHN CARTER:
And so Dejah Thoris, Princess of Helium, a daughter of the Red Planet Mars, promised herself in marriage to John Carter, a gentleman of Virginia.
(MUSIC AND SOUND EFFECTS)
JOHN CARTER:
Several days later, we reached the city of Helium. At first, the red men of Helium thought we were an attacking army. But they soon saw their Princess. We were greeted with great joy. Tars Tarkas and his green warriors caused the greatest excitement. This huge group of green warriors entered the city as friends and allies.
I soon met Tardos Mors, the grandfather of Dejah Thoris. He tried several times to thank me for saving the life of the Princess. But tears filled his eyes and he could not speak.
(MUSIC)
JOHN CARTER:
For nine years, I served in the government and fought in the armies of Helium as a Prince of the royal family. It was a happy time. The Princess Dejah Thoris and I were expecting a child.
Then, one day, a soldier returned from a long flight. When he landed he hurried to the great meeting room.
Tardos Mors met with the soldier and reported that every creature on the planet had but three days to live. He said the great machines that produced the atmosphere on the planet had stopped producing oxygen. He said no one knew why this had happened, but there was nothing that could be done.
The air grew thin within a day. Many people could do nothing but sleep. I watched as my Princess was slowly dying. I had to try something.
I could still move with great difficulty. I went to our airport and chose a fast aircraft. I flew as fast as I could to the building that produced the atmosphere of the planet.
Workers were trying to enter. I tried to help. With a great effort I opened a hole.
I grew very weak. I asked one of the workers if he could start the engines. He said he would try. I fell asleep on the ground.
(MUSIC)
It was dark when I opened my eyes again. My clothing felt stiff and strange. I sat up. I could see light from an opening. I walked outside. The land looked strange to me. I looked up to the sky and saw the Red Planet Mars. I was once again on Earth in the desert of Arizona. I cried out with deep emotion.
Did the worker reach the machines to renew the atmosphere? Did the air reach the people of that planet in time to save them? Was my Princess Dejah Thoris alive or did she lie cold in death?
For ten years now, I have watched the night sky, looking for an answer. I believe she and our child are waiting there for me. Something tells me that I shall soon know.
(MUSIC)
ANNOUNCER:
You have been listening to the Special English program, American Stories.
Shep O’Neal was the voice of John Carter. Steve Ember was Tars Tarkas. Barbara Klein was Sola. And Gwen Outen was Princess Dejah Thoris. This story was adapted for Special English by Paul Thompson. It was produced by Paul Thompson and Mario Ritter. Listen again next week for another American Story in VOA Special English.
A Princess of Mars, Part Three
(MUSIC) Last week we broadcast the second of our programs called “A Princess of Mars.” The story is from a series of books by Edgar Rice Burroughs. Last week we told how John Carter was captured by a group of warriors on the planet Mars. Later, he became one of them by defeating a huge warrior in a fight. He is still a captive, but he is treated with honor because he is a skilled fighter. We left John Carter at the beginning of a fierce battle between the green warriors and their main enemy. The enemy came close to the green Martians in huge air ships. The green Martians attacked. John Carter continues to tell about what happens to him in Edgar Rice Burroughs’s story, “A Princess of Mars.” (MUSIC) JOHN CARTER: Another of the large air ships exploded high in the air. Members of the crew fell to the ground. The huge ship lost control and began turning again and again. Soon it was close to the ground. The warriors climbed aboard the ship and began fighting the members of the crew who were still alive. Soon the fighting stopped. The warriors began taking everything from the ship. At last, they brought a captive from deep within the ship. Two of the warriors had their captive by each arm. I wanted to see what new and strange form of life this creature would be. As they came near, I saw that it was a woman. She looked like a woman from Earth. She was young. Her skin was a light red, almost a copper color. I saw at once that she was extremely beautiful. She had a fine face with large dark eyes and long, black hair. As her guards led her away, she saw me for a moment. She seemed very surprised. Her face looked hopeful. But when I made no attempt to speak to her, her face grew sad and she looked very small and frightened. As I watched her disappear into a building, I realized that Sola was near me. SOLA: John Carter, that woman will be saved for the great games that are held by our people. The games are long and cruel and end in death for those captured in battle. Her death will be slow and painful. She will die for the enjoyment of all. JOHN CARTER: Sola’s face seemed sad when she said this. I could tell by the way she spoke that she did not like the games and did not want to see the young woman die. She was very different from the rest of her people. Sola, do you not like the games? SOLA: No, John Carter. My mother died in the games. That is a secret you must not tell anyone. The wall where Tars Tarkas found you held eggs that produce our young. All the children belong to the tribe. A mother never knows which child is hers when they come out of the egg. My mother hid the egg that carried me. It was not placed within the walled area. She kept her secret until after I was born. But others discovered her secret and she was condemned to die in the games. She hid me among other children before she was captured. If this secret were learned, I too would die in the games. Before she left me, my mother told me the name of my father. I alone keep that secret. It would mean death for him as well as me. My people are violent and cruel. (MUSIC) JOHN CARTER: The next day I entered the great room where the green Martians held meetings. The red woman prisoner was there too. Soon, the leader of the green Martians came into the room. His name was Lorquas Ptomel. He began speaking to the prisoner. LORQUAS PTOMEL: Who are you and what is your name? DEJAH THORIS: I am the Princess Dejah Thoris, daughter of Mors Kajak, the ruler of Helium. Our air ship was on a scientific flight. We were to study the air and atmosphere. Without our work the air on our planet would grow thin and we would all die. Why would you attack us? JOHN CARTER: As she talked, a warrior ran to her and hit her in the face, knocking her to the ground. He placed a foot on her small body and began laughing. (LAUGHTER) I reached for the small sword I carried and rushed to attack the huge warrior. (FIGHTING SOUNDS) JOHN CARTER: He was a strong opponent. But again, because of the low gravity on Mars, my strength was far greater than his. In a few short minutes, the green warrior was dead. I helped the young woman to her feet. DEJAH THORIS: Who are you? Why did you risk your life to help me? You look almost the same as my people, but you wear the weapons of a green warrior. Who… or what.. are you? JOHN CARTER: My name is John Carter. I am from the planet Earth. How I got here is a long story. I attacked that warrior because, where I come from, men do not attack women. I will offer you my protection as long as I can. However, I must tell you that I, too, am a captive. SOLA: Come, John Carter, and bring the red woman with you. Let us leave this room quickly before some warrior attempts to stops us. JOHN CARTER: The three of us quickly returned to the building where I had spent the last several days. Sola then left to prepare food. Woola sat in the corner and looked at the both of us. The young woman was afraid of poor, ugly Woola. I told her not to fear him. You must tell no one, but Woola is not only my guard. He is my friend. I have treated him with kindness that he has never known. As each day passes, he trusts me more. I now think he would follow any command I give. Sola has told me that all captives are held until they can die in the great games held by the green Martians. Our only chance to survive is to escape. But we must have Sola’s help for our plan to succeed. DEJAH THORIS: Yes. If we stay with the green warriors, we will both die. If we are to escape, we will need several of the animals to ride. It would be our only chance. JOHN CARTER: I have several of the animals. They were given to me when I became a warrior. Sola came back later with food for the two of us. Dejah Thoris and I asked for her help. The three of us talked long into the night. At last Sola gave us her answer. SOLA: Your best chance for escape will be in the next two days. We will leave this city tomorrow and begin a long trip to the home of our tribe. I will help you escape. But I must come with you. I will be killed if you escape. DEJAH THORIS: Sola, of course you must come with us! You are not cruel or violent as many of your people are. Help us and I can promise you a much better life. You will be treated with respect as an honored guest. JOHN CARTER: The next morning we rode away from the city on our animals. More than a thousand animals were carrying the huge tribe of green Martians. Also in the group were one American, one Princess of the Royal House of Helium, our guard, Sola, and poor ugly Woola. Late that night we left the camp. One animal carried me. Another Sola and Princess Dejah Thoris. Woola followed close behind. We rode quickly through the Martian night. I looked into the sky and saw Earth across the great distance of space. Since I had met the Princess Dejah Thoris, I had not thought once of Earth or home. I knew then that I would never willingly leave her. The next morning, I could see that we were being followed by several hundred of the green warriors. Our animals were very tired. I knew we must stop. I told Sola and the Princess to take the stronger of the two animals and ride away. I will hold back the green warriors as long as I can. Woola! Go with them and guard them with your life. DEJAH THORIS: We can’t leave you alone. It would be certain death if you are captured again. You must come with us! JOHN CARTER: Sola took the princess by the arm and lifted her on top of the animal she had chosen. Quickly she began riding away. For a moment, Woola looked at me, then turned and ran after them. I took out my rifle from its case. I began firing to slow the green warriors. (SHOTS) I was able to slow them for more than an hour. But then I had no more ammunition. Soon I was surrounded. A green warrior got off his animal and came toward me. He pulled out his long, thin sword. I reached for mine. As we neared each other I saw it was Tars Tarkas. He stopped and spoke to me very slowly. TARS TARKAS: You will die here… today… John Carter. It is I who must kill you. Know that I will take no pleasure in your death. (MUSIC) ANNOUNCER: You have been listening to the Special English program, American Stories. This has been the third program in our series “A Princess of Mars,” by Edgar Rice Burrows. This story was adapted for Special English by Paul Thompson. It was produced by Paul Thompson and Mario Ritter. Shep O’Neal was the voice of John Carter. Steve Ember was Tars Tarkas. Barbara Klein was Sola. And Gwen Outen was the Princess Dejah Thoris. Join us again next week as we continue “A Princess of Mars,” in VOA Special English. A Princess of Mars, Part Two
(MUSIC) Last week we brought you the first of four programs called “A Princess of Mars.” Our story is from a series of books by American writer Edgar Rice Burroughs. They are science fiction stories, a mix of imagination and science. Last week, we met John Carter who begins the story. He enters a cave deep in the desert in the state of Arizona. There something happens. He does not know how, but he has been transported to the Red Planet, Mars. He quickly learns that gravity on Mars is much less than on Earth. The lack of gravity makes him very strong. He can even jump very high without trying. He finds a low wall that surrounds a group of eggs. The eggs are opening. Out come small, fierce-looking green creatures. When we left John Carter, a green adult creature carrying a long sharp spear was coming toward him. And now, the second program in our series, “A Princess of Mars.” (MUSIC) JOHN CARTER: The creature with the spear was huge. There were many other similar creatures. They had ridden behind me on the backs of large animals. Each of them carried a collection of strange-looking weapons. The one with the large spear got down from the back of his animal and began walking toward me. He was almost five meters tall and a dark green color. Huge teeth stuck out of his face, and his expression showed much hate and violence. I immediately knew I was facing a terrible warrior. He began moving quickly toward me with the spear. I was completely unarmed. I could not fight. My only chance was to escape. I used all my strength to jump away from him. I was able to jump almost thirty meters. The green Martian stopped and watched my effort. I would learn later that the look on his face showed complete surprise. The creatures gathered and talked among themselves. While they talked, I thought about running away. However, I noticed several of them carried devices that looked very much like rifles. I could not run. Soon, all but one of the creatures moved away. The one who had threatened me stayed. He slowly took off a metal band from his arm and held it out to me. He spoke in a strange language. (SOUND) JOHN CARTER: Slowly, he laid down his weapons. I thought this would have been a sign of peace anywhere on Earth…why not on Mars, too? I walked toward him and in a normal voice announced my name and said I had come in peace. I knew he did not understand, but like me, he took it to mean that I meant no harm. Slowly, we came together. He gave me the large metal band that had been around his arm. He turned and made signs with his hands that I should follow him. Soon we arrived at the large animal he had been riding. He again made a sign with his hands that I should ride on the same animal behind him. The group turned and began riding across the land. We moved quickly toward mountains in the distance. (MUSIC) JOHN CARTER: The large animals we rode moved quickly across the land. I could tell from the surrounding mountains that we were on the bottom of a long dead sea. In time we came to a huge city. At first I thought the city was empty. The buildings all were empty and in poor repair. But soon I saw hundreds of the green warriors. I also saw green women and children. I soon learned about many cities like this. The cities were built hundreds of years ago by a people that no longer existed. The green Martians used the cities. They moved from one empty city to another, never stopping for more than a day or two. We got down from our animals and walked into a large building. We entered a room that was filled with fierce green warriors. (SOUND) It was not difficult to tell that these were the leaders of the green Martians. One of them took hold of my arm. He shook me and lifted me off the ground. He laughed when he did so. I was to learn that green Martians only laugh at the pain or suffering of others. This huge warrior threw me to the ground and then took hold of my arm again to pick me up. I did the only thing I could do. I hit him with my closed fist as hard as I could. (SOUND) The green warrior fell to the floor and did not move. The others in the room grew silent. I had knocked down one of their warriors with only my hand. I moved away from him and prepared to defend myself as best I could. But they did not move. The green Martian that had captured me walked toward me. He said in a clear voice: TARS TARKAS: "TARS TARKAS -- TARS TARKAS.” JOHN CARTER: As he spoke, he pointed to his own chest. He was telling me his name! I pointed to my chest and said my name, “John Carter.” He turned and said the word, “Sola.” Immediately, a green Martian woman came close. He spoke to her. She led me to another building and into a large room. The room was filled with equipment carried by the green Martians. She prepared something for me to eat. I was very hungry. I pointed to her and said the word “Sola.” She pointed at me and said my name. It was a beginning. Sola was my guard. She also became my teacher. In time she would become a close and valued friend. As I ate my meal, my lessons in the language of the green Martians continued. (MUSIC) JOHN CARTER: Two days later, Tars Tarkas came to my room. He carried the weapons and the metal armbands the green warriors wear. He put them on the ground near my feet. Sola told him I now understood some of their language. He turned to me and spoke slowly. TARS TARKAS: The warrior you hit is dead. His weapons and the metal of his rank are yours, John Carter. He was a leader of one small group among our people. Because you have killed him, you now are a leader. You are still a captive and not free to leave. However you will be treated with the respect you have earned. You are now a warrior among our people. JOHN CARTER: Tars Tarkas turned and spoke softly. From beyond the door a strange creature entered the room. It was bigger than a large dog and very ugly. It had rows of long teeth and ten very short legs. Tars Tarkas spoke to the creature and pointed at me. He left. The creature looked at me, watching closely. Then Sola spoke about the creature. SOLA: His name is Woola. The men of our tribe use them in hunting and war. He has been told to guard and protect you. He has also been told to prevent your escape. There is no faster creature in our world. And in a fight they can kill very quickly. Do not try to escape, John Carter. Woola will tear you to small pieces. JOHN CARTER: I continued to watch the creature named Woola. I had already seen how the green Martians treated other animals. They were very cruel. I thought, perhaps this beast can be taught to be my friend…much like a dog on Earth. I walked close to the creature and began speaking in much the same way I would speak to a dog or other animal on Earth. I sat down next to him while I talked softly. At first he seemed confused. I believe the creature Woola had never heard a kind word. For the next several days I gained the trust and friendship of Woola. In a few short days Woola was my friend and fierce protector. He would remain my loyal friend as long as I was on Mars. (MUSIC) JOHN CARTER: Several days later, Sola came to me with a look of great concern. SOLA: John Carter…come with me. A great battle is about to take place. An enemy is coming near this city. We must prepare to fight and we must be ready to flee. JOHN CARTER: Sola, what enemy is this? SOLA: A race of red men who travel our world in flying machines. A great number of their machines have come over the far mountain. Take your weapons with you and hurry. JOHN CARTER: I collected my sword and a spear. I hurried out of the building and joined a group of warriors moving toward the end of the city. Far in the distance I could see the air ships. They were firing large guns at the green warriors. I heard huge explosions. The green warriors were firing back with their deadly rifles. The air was filled with the sound of violent battle. (SOUND) Suddenly a huge air ship exploded. It came down, crashing near me. Red Martians were falling from the side of the huge ship. And then it exploded! (SOUND AND MUSIC) ANNOUNCER: You have been listening to the Special English program, American Stories. This has been the second part of the story “A Princess of Mars” by Edgar Rice Burrows. This story was adapted for Special English by Paul Thompson. It was produced by Paul Thompson and Mario Ritter. Shep O’Neal was the voice of John Carter. Steve Ember was Tars Tarkas. And Barbara Klein was Sola. Join us again next week at this time as we continue “A Princess of Mars” in VOA Special English. A Princess of Mars, Part One ANNOUNCER: Now, the Special English program, American Stories. (MUSIC) Today, we begin a new series from a book by American writer Edgar Rice Burroughs. The book is called “A Princess of Mars.” It is the first book in a series that Mister Burroughs wrote about a man who travels to Mars during the last years of the eighteen hundreds. There, the man meets strange beings and sees strange sights. At first he is a captive, then a warrior, and after many battles, a prince of a royal family. Shep O’Neal begins the story of “A Princess of Mars.” (MUSIC) JOHN CARTER: I am a very old man. How old I do not know. It is possible I am a hundred, maybe more. I cannot tell because I have never aged as other men do. So far as I can remember, I have always been a man of about thirty. I appear today as I did forty years ago. Yet, I feel that I cannot go on living forever. Someday I will die the real death from which there is no escape. I do not know why I should fear death. I who have died two times and am still alive. I have never told this story. I know the human mind will not believe what it cannot understand. I cannot explain what happened to me. I can only tell of the ten years my dead body lay undiscovered in an Arizona cave. (SOUND) My name is John Carter. I am from the state of Virginia. At the close of the Civil War I found myself without a home, without money and without work. I decided the best plan was to search for gold in the great deserts of the American Southwest. I spent almost a year searching for gold with another former soldier, Captain James Powell, also of Virginia. We were extremely lucky. In the winter of eighteen sixty-five we found rocks that held gold. Powell was trained as a mining engineer. He said we had uncovered over a million dollars worth of gold in only three months. But the work was slow with only two men and not much equipment. So we decided Powell should go to the nearest settlement to seek equipment and men to help us with the work. On March third, eighteen sixty-six, Powell said good-bye. He rode his horse down the mountain toward the valley. I followed his progress for several hours. The morning Powell left was like all mornings in the deserts of the great Southwest -- clear and beautiful. Not much later I looked across the valley. I was surprised to see three riders in the same place where I had last seen my friend. After watching for some time, I decided the three riders must be hostile Indians. Powell, I knew, was well armed and an experienced soldier. But I knew he would need my aid. I found my weapons, placed a saddle on my horse and started as fast as possible down the trail taken by Powell. I followed as quickly as I could until dark. About nine o’clock the moon became very bright. I had no difficulty following Powell’s trail. I soon found the trail left by the three riders following Powell. I knew they were Indians. I was sure they wanted to capture Powell. (SOUND) Suddenly I heard shots far ahead of me. I hurried ahead as fast as I could. Soon I came to a small camp. Several hundred Apache Indians were in the center of the camp. I could see Powell on the ground. I did not even think about what to do, I just acted. I pulled out my guns and began shooting. (SOUND) The Apaches were surprised and fled. I forced my horse into the camp and toward Powell. I reached down and pulled him up on the horse by his belt. I urged the horse to greater speed. The Apaches by now realized that I was alone and quickly began to follow. We were soon in very rough country. The trail I chose began to rise sharply. It went up and up. I followed the trail for several hundred meters more until I came to the mouth of a large cave. It was almost morning now. I got off my horse and laid Powell on the ground. I tried to give him water. But it was no use. Powell was dead. I laid his body down and continued to the cave. I began to explore the cave. I was looking for a safe place to defend myself, or perhaps for a way out. But I became very sleepy. It was a pleasant feeling. My body became extremely heavy. I had trouble moving. Soon I had to lay down against the side of the cave. For some reason I could not move my arms or legs. I lay facing the opening of the cave. I could see part of the trail that had led me here. And now I could see the Apaches. They had found me. But I could do nothing. Within a minute one of them came into the cave. He looked at me, but he came no closer. His eyes grew wide. His mouth opened. He had a look of terror on his face. He looked behind me for moment and then fled. Suddenly I heard a low noise behind me. (SOUND) So could the rest of the Apaches. They all turned and fled. The sound became louder. But still I could not move. I could not turn my head to see what was behind me. All day I lay like this. I tried again to rise, and again, but still I could not move. Then I heard a sharp sound. It was like a steel wire breaking. I quickly stood up. My back was against the cave wall. I looked down. There before me lay my body. (MUSIC) For a few moments, I stood looking at my body. I could not bring myself to touch it. I was very frightened. The sounds of the cave and the sight of my body forced me away. I slowly backed to the opening of the cave. I turned to look at the Arizona night. I could see a thousand stars. As I stood there I turned my eyes to a large red star. I could not stop looking at it. It was Mars…the red planet…the red god of war. It seemed to pull me near. Then, for a moment, I closed my eyes. There was an instant of extreme cold and total darkness. Suddenly I was in deep, dreamless, peaceful sleep. (MUSIC) I opened my eyes upon a very strange land. I immediately knew then I was on Mars. Not once did I question this fact. My mind told me I was on Mars as your mind tells you that you are upon Earth. You do not question the fact, nor did I. I found myself lying on a bed of yellow colored grass that covered the land for kilometers. The time was near the middle of the day and the sun was shining full upon me. It was warm. I decided to do a little exploring. Springing to my feet, I received my first Martian surprise. The effort to stand carried me into the Martian air to the height of about one meter. I landed softly upon the ground, however, without incident. I found that I must learn to walk all over again. My muscles were used to the gravity of Earth. Mars has less gravity. My attempts to walk resulted in jumps and hops, which took me into the air. I once landed on my face. I soon learned that it took much less effort for me to move on Mars than it did on Earth. Near me was a small, low wall. Carefully, I made my way to the wall and looked over. It was filled with eggs, some already broken open. Small, green creatures were in them. They looked at me with huge red eyes. As I watched the fierce-looking creatures, I failed to hear twenty full-grown Martians coming from behind me. They had come without warning. As I turned, I saw them. One was coming at me with a huge spear, with its sharp tip pointed at my heart! (SOUND AND MUSIC) ANNOUNCER: This is Bob Doughty. You have been listening to American Stories and our version of “A Princess of Mars.” The voice of John Carter was Shep O’Neal. Our program was written for radio, produced and directed by Paul Thompson. Join us again next week for the next part of the Edgar Rice Burroughs story, “A Princess of Mars,” on the Special English program, American Stories, on the Voice of America. The Law of Life ANNOUNCER: Now, the V.O.A. Special English Program, AMERICAN STORIES. (MUSIC) Our story today is called “The Law of Life.” It was written by Jack London. Here is Shep O’Neal with the story. STORYTELLER: The old Indian was sitting on the snow. It was Koskoosh, former chief of his tribe. Now, all he could do was sit and listen to the others. His eyes were old. He could not see, but his ears were wide open to every sound. “Aha.” That was the sound of his daughter, Sit-cum-to-ha. She was beating the dogs, trying to make them stand in front of the snow sleds. He was forgotten by her, and by the others, too. They had to look for new hunting grounds. The long, snowy ride waited. The days of the northlands were growing short. The tribe could not wait for death. Koskoosh was dying. The stiff, crackling noises of frozen animal skins told him that the chief’s tent was being torn down. The chief was a mighty hunter. He was his son, the son of Koskoosh. Koskoosh was being left to die. As the women worked, old Koskoosh could hear his son’s voice drive them to work faster. He listened harder. It was the last time he would hear that voice. A child cried, and a woman sang softly to quiet it. The child was Koo-tee, the old man thought, a sickly child. It would die soon, and they would burn a hole in the frozen ground to bury it. They would cover its small body with stones to keep the wolves away. “Well, what of it? A few years, and in the end, death. Death waited ever hungry. Death had the hungriest stomach of all.” Koskoosh listened to other sounds he would hear no more: the men tying strong leather rope around the sleds to hold their belongings; the sharp sounds of leather whips, ordering the dogs to move and pull the sleds. “Listen to the dogs cry. How they hated the work.” They were off. Sled after sled moved slowly away into the silence. They had passed out of his life. He must meet his last hour alone. “But what was that?” The snow packed down hard under someone’s shoes. A man stood beside him, and placed a hand gently on his old head. His son was good to do this. He remembered other old men whose sons had not done this, who had left without a goodbye. His mind traveled into the past until his son’s voice brought him back. “It is well with you?” his son asked. And the old man answered, “It is well.” “There is wood next to you and the fire burns bright,” the son said. “The morning is gray and the cold is here. It will snow soon. Even now it is snowing. Ahh, even now it is snowing. “The tribesmen hurry. Their loads are heavy and their stomachs flat from little food. The way is long and they travel fast. I go now. All is well?” “It is well. I am as last year’s leaf that sticks to the tree. The first breath that blows will knock me to the ground. My voice is like an old woman’s. My eyes no longer show me the way my feet go. I am tired and all is well.” He lowered his head to his chest and listened to the snow as his son rode away. He felt the sticks of wood next to him again. One by one, the fire would eat them. And step by step, death would cover him. When the last stick was gone, the cold would come. First, his feet would freeze. Then, his hands. The cold would travel slowly from the outside to the inside of him, and he would rest. It was easy…all men must die. He felt sorrow, but he did not think of his sorrow. It was the way of life. He had lived close to the earth, and the law was not new to him. It was the law of the body. Nature was not kind to the body. She was not thoughtful of the person alone. She was interested only in the group, the race, the species. This was a deep thought for old Koskoosh. He had seen examples of it in all his life. The tree sap in early spring; the new-born green leaf, soft and fresh as skin; the fall of the yellowed, dry leaf. In this alone was all history. He placed another stick on the fire and began to remember his past. He had been a great chief, too. He had seen days of much food and laughter; fat stomachs when food was left to rot and spoil; times when they left animals alone, unkilled; days when women had many children. And he had seen days of no food and empty stomachs, days when the fish did not come, and the animals were hard to find. For seven years the animals did not come. Then, he remembered when as a small boy how he watched the wolves kill a moose. He was with his friend Zing-ha, who was killed later in the Yukon River. Ah, but the moose. Zing-ha and he had gone out to play that day. Down by the river they saw fresh steps of a big, heavy moose. “He’s an old one,” Zing-ha had said. “He cannot run like the others. He has fallen behind. The wolves have separated him from the others. They will never leave him.” And so it was. By day and night, never stopping, biting at his nose, biting at his feet, the wolves stayed with him until the end. Zing-ha and he had felt the blood quicken in their bodies. The end would be a sight to see. They had followed the steps of the moose and the wolves. Each step told a different story. They could see the tragedy as it happened: here was the place the moose stopped to fight. The snow was packed down for many feet. One wolf had been caught by the heavy feet of the moose and kicked to death. Further on, they saw how the moose had struggled to escape up a hill. But the wolves had attacked from behind. The moose had fallen down and crushed two wolves. Yet, it was clear the end was near. The snow was red ahead of them. Then they heard the sounds of battle. He and Zing-ha moved closer, on their stomachs, so the wolves would not see them. They saw the end. The picture was so strong it had stayed with him all his life. His dull, blind eyes saw the end again as they had in the far off past. For long, his mind saw his past. The fire began to die out, and the cold entered his body. He placed two more sticks on it, just two more left. This would be how long he would live. It was very lonely. He placed one of the last pieces of wood on the fire. Listen, what a strange noise for wood to make in the fire. No, it wasn’t wood. His body shook as he recognized the sound…wolves. The cry of a wolf brought the picture of the old moose back to him again. He saw the body torn to pieces, with fresh blood running on the snow. He saw the clean bones lying gray against the frozen blood. He saw the rushing forms of the gray wolves, their shinning eyes, their long wet tongues and sharp teeth. And he saw them form a circle and move ever slowly closer and closer. A cold, wet nose touched his face. At the touch, his soul jumped forward to awaken him. His hand went to the fire and he pulled a burning stick from it. The wolf saw the fire, but was not afraid. It turned and howled into the air to his brother wolves. They answered with hunger in their throats, and came running. The old Indian listened to the hungry wolves. He heard them form a circle around him and his small fire. He waved his burning stick at them, but they did not move away. Now, one of them moved closer, slowly, as if to test the old man’s strength. Another and another followed. The circle grew smaller and smaller. Not one wolf stayed behind. Why should he fight? Why cling to life? And he dropped his stick with the fire on the end of it. It fell in the snow and the light went out. The circle of wolves moved closer. Once again the old Indian saw the picture of the moose as it struggled before the end came. He dropped his head to his knees. What did it matter after all? Isn’t this the law of life? (MUSIC) ANNOUNCER: You have just heard the American story “The Law of Life.” It was written by Jack London. Your storyteller was Shep O’Neal. Listen again next week for another American story in V.O.A. Special English. I’m Faith Lapidus. Feathertop ANNOUNCER: Now, the V.O.A. Special English program, AMERICAN STORIES. (MUSIC) ANNOUNCER: Our story today is called “Feathertop.” It was written by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Here is Shep O’Neal with the story. (MUSIC) STORYTELLER: The long cold winter was gone at last. At first the cold nights went away slowly. Then suddenly, the warm days of spring started to come. There was new life again in the earth. Things started to grow and come up. For the first time, green corn plants began to show. They pushed through the soil and could now be seen above the ground. After the long winter months, the crows, the big black birds, were hungry. And when they saw the little green plants, they flew down to eat them. Old Mother Rigby tried to make the noisy and hungry birds go away. They made her very angry. She did not want the black birds to eat her corn. But the birds would not go away. So, early one morning, just as the sun started to rise, Mother Rigby jumped out of bed. She had a plan to stop those black birds from eating her corn. Mother Rigby could do anything. She was a witch, a woman with strange powers. She could make water run uphill, or change a beautiful woman into a white horse. Many nights when the moon was full and bright, she could be seen flying over the tops of the houses in the village, sitting on a long wooden stick. It was a broomstick, and it helped her to do all sorts of strange tricks. (MUSIC) Mother Rigby ate a quick breakfast and then started to work on her broomstick. She was planning to make something that would look like a man. It would fill the birds with fear, and scare them from eating her corn, the way most farmers protect themselves from those black, pesky birds. Mother Rigby worked quickly. She held her magic broomstick straight, and then tied another piece of wood across it. And already, it began to look like a man with arms. Then she made the head. She put a pumpkin, a vegetable the size of a football, on top of the broomstick. She made two small holes in the pumpkin for eyes, and made another cut lower down that looked just like a mouth. At last, there he was. He seemed ready to go to work for Mother Rigby and stop those old birds from eating her corn. But, Mother Rigby was not happy with what she made. She wanted to make her scarecrow look better and better, for she was a good worker. She made a purple coat and put it around her scarecrow, and dressed it in white silk stockings. She covered him with false hair and an old hat. And in that hat, she stuck the feather of a bird. She examined him closely, and decided she liked him much better now, dressed up in a beautiful coat, with a fine feather on top of his hat. And, she named him Feathertop. She looked at Feathertop and laughed with happiness. He is a beauty, she thought. “Now what?” she thought, feeling troubled again. She felt that Feathertop looked too good to be a scarecrow. “He can do something better,” she thought, “than just stand near the corn all summer and scare the crows.” And she decided on another plan for Feathertop. She took the pipe of tobacco she was smoking and put it into the mouth of Feathertop. “Puff, darling, puff,” she said to Feathertop. “Puff away, my fine fellow.” It is your life.” Smoke started to rise from Feathertop’s mouth. At first, it was just a little smoke, but Feathertop worked hard, blowing and puffing. And, more and more smoke came out of him. “Puff away, my pet,” Mother Rigby said, with happiness. “Puff away, my pretty one. Puff for your life, I tell you.” Mother Rigby then ordered Feathertop to walk. “Go forward,” she said. “You have a world before you.” Feathertop put one hand out in front of him, trying to find something for support. At the same time he pushed one foot forward with great difficulty. But Mother Rigby shouted and ordered him on, and soon he began to go forward. Then she said, “you look like a man, and you walk like a man. Now I order you to talk like a man.” Feathertop gasped, struggled, and at last said in a small whisper, “Mother, I want to speak, but I have no brain. What can I say?” “Ah, you can speak,” Mother Rigby answered. “What shall you say? Have no fear. When you go out into the world, you will say a thousand things, and say them a thousand times…and saying them a thousand times again and again, you still will be saying nothing. So just talk, babble like a bird. Certainly you have enough of a brain for that.” (MUSIC) Mother Rigby gave Feathertop much money and said “Now you are as good as any of them and can hold your head high with importance.” But she told Feathertop that he must never lose his pipe and must never let it stop smoking. She warned him that if his pipe ever stopped smoking, he would fall down and become just a bundle of sticks again. “Have no fear, Mother,” Feathertop said in a big voice and blew a big cloud of smoke out of his mouth. “On your way,” Mother Rigby said, pushing Feathertop out the door. “The world is yours. And if anybody asks you for your name, just say Feathertop. For you have a feather in your hat and a handful of feathers in your empty head.” Feathertop found the streets in town, and many people started to look at him. They looked at his beautiful purple coat and his white silk stockings, and at the pipe he carried in his left hand, which he put back into his mouth every five steps he walked. They thought he was a visitor of great importance. “What a fine, noble face” one man said. “He surely is somebody,” said another. “A great leader of men.” (MUSIC) As Feathertop walked along one of the quieter streets near the edge of town, he saw a very pretty girl standing in front of a small red brick house. A little boy was standing next to her. The pretty girl smiled at Feathertop, and love entered her heart. It made her whole face bright with sunlight. Feathertop looked at her and had a feeling he never knew before. Suddenly, everything seemed a little different to him. The air was filled with a strange excitement. The sunlight glowed along the road, and people seemed to dance as they moved through the streets. Feathertop could not stop himself, and walked toward the pretty smiling young girl. As he got closer, the little boy at her side pointed his finger at Feathertop and said, “Look, Polly! The man has no face. It is a pumpkin.” Feathertop moved no closer, but turned around and hurried through the streets of the town toward his home. When Mother Rigby opened the door, she saw Feathertop shaking with emotion. He was puffing on his pipe with great difficulty and making sounds like the clatter of sticks, or the rattling of bones. “What’s wrong?” Mother Rigby asked. “I am nothing, Mother. I am not a man. I am just a puff of smoke. I want to be something more than just a puff of smoke.” And Feathertop took his pipe, and with all his strength smashed it against the floor. He fell down and became a bundle of sticks as his pumpkin face rolled toward the wall. “Poor Feathertop,” Mother Rigby said, looking at the heap on the floor. “He was too good to be a scarecrow. And he was too good to be a man. But he will be happier, standing near the corn all summer and protecting it from the birds. So I will make him a scarecrow again.” (MUSIC) ANNOUNCER: You have heard the American story, “Feathertop.” It was written by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Your storyteller was Shep O’Neal. The producer was Lawan Davis. Listen again next week at this time for another American story in V.O.A. Special English. I’m Steve Ember. Benito Cereno, Part Three ANNOUNCER: Now, the V.O.A. Special English program, American Stories. (MUSIC) Today we complete the story of Benito Cereno, written by Herman Melville. As we told you in earlier parts of our story, rebel slaves seized the ship San Dominick off the coast of Chile. They killed many of its officers and crew. The captain, Benito Cereno, was ordered to sail to Senegal. But first, he was forced to take the ship to the lonely island of Santa Maria, near the southern end of Chile. There, it could safely get water and supplies for the long, dangerous voyage to Africa. At the island, the rebels were surprised and frightened when they found an American ship anchored in the harbor. It also had stopped for water. Many of the rebels wanted to sail away. But their leader, Babo, opposed it. They had little water and food, and could not go far. Babo created a story to keep anyone from suspecting that the Spanish vessel was in the hands of rebels, and that its captain was a prisoner. At first, Babo seemed successful. The captain of the American ship, Amasa Delano, visited the San Dominick. He suspected nothing, although surprised by the general disorder on board. He also could not understand the strange behavior of its captain, Benito Cereno. Later incidents, however, began to worry him. Captain Delano grew more and more suspicious. At one time, he even feared that his life might be in danger. Twice, he caught the Spanish captain and his servant, Babo, with their heads together, whispering like two conspirators. It made Captain Delano wonder. Were they plotting to kill him and seize his ship? Who were these men, cut throats? Pirates? Captian Delano grew nervous. Then, he was happy to see his whale boat off in the distance. It was returning with supplies for the Spanish ship. The sight of his boat calmed him. It made his suspicions and fear quickly disappear. He felt foolish for having had such dark thoughts. Now, here is Shep O'Neal with the rest of our story, "Benito Cereno." STORYTELLER: Captain Delano went down to Captain Cereno’s cabin to cheer him up and say goodbye. “Better and better, Don Benito,” he said as he entered the cabin, “your troubles will soon be over.” The American invited the Spanish captain to come aboard his boat for a cup of coffee. Cereno’s eyes brightened. But then the light in them died. He shook his head and said he could not accept the invitation. Captain Delano was offended. He was about to withdraw when Don Benito rose from his chair and took Delano’s hand. The Spaniard’s hand shook. And he was too excited to speak. Delano pulled his hand away and turned, climbing back to the deck. His face was troubled. Captain Delano could not understand Don Benito's actions. One minute the Spaniard was warm and polite. Then -- just as quickly -- cold and hostile. Captain Delano asked himself: Why did he refuse to join me? Why is he so unfriendly? Captain Delano got to the deck and was about to step down into his boat when he heard his name. To his surprise, Don Benito was calling, coming quickly toward him. Captain Delano was pleased and turned back to meet him. Don Benito warmly took his hand, with more energy and emotion than he had ever shown. But his excitement seemed too much for him, and he could not speak. Babo then came between the two men and put his arm around Don Benito to support him. Clearly, he wanted to end the meeting between the two captains. Walking between the two men, Babo went with them to the walkway. Don Benito would not let go of Captain Delano’s hand. He held it tightly across the servant’s body. Soon, they were standing by the ship’s side, looking down onto the American boat. Its crew turned up their wondering eyes. Captain Delano did not know what to do as he waited for Don Benito to let go of his hand. He wanted to step down into his boat. But Don Benito still firmly held his hand. Then, in an excited voice the Spaniard said: “I can go no further. Here I must say goodbye. Farewell, my dear, dear Don Amasa. Go! Go!” And he tore his hand loose. “Go, and God protect you better than he did me. Go, Don Amasa, my best friend.” Captain Delano was deeply moved. He would have stayed for another minute or so, but he caught the eye of Babo. It seemed to say, ‘This is bad for Don Benito’s health.’ And so he quickly took the short step down into his boat with the continuing farewells of Don Benito, who stood rooted at the ship’s side. Captain Delano sat down in the back of his boat, gave Don Benito a last salute, and ordered his men to push off. The boat began to move. Suddenly, Don Benito sprang over the side and came down at Delano’s feet. And he kept shouting toward the Spanish ship. His cries were so wild that no one could understand him. An American officer asked what does this mean. Captain Delano turned a cold smile upon Captain Cereno and said he neither knew nor cared. It seems, he added, that the Spaniard has taken it into his head to give his people the idea that we want to kidnap him. Or else…and suddenly Captain Delano shouted: “Watch out for your lives!” He saw Babo, the servant, on the rail above, with a dagger in his hand. He was ready to jump. What followed happened so quickly that Captain Delano could not tell one incident from another. They all came together in one great blur of violent action and excitement. As Babo came down, Captain Delano flung Don Benito aside and caught the rebel leader, pulling the dagger from his hand. He pushed Babo firmly down in the bottom of the boat, which now began to pick up speed. Then, Babo, with his one free hand, pulled a second dagger from his clothes and struck at Captain Cereno. Captain Delano knocked it from his hand. Now, he saw everything clearly: Babo had leaped into the whale boat – not to kill him – but to kill Captain Cereno. For the first time, he understood the mysterious behavior of Don Benito – a prisoner under sentence of death. He looked back at the Spanish ship and got a clear picture of what its captain had escaped. On board the San Dominick, the shouting rebels were raising their axes and knives in a wild revolt. They stopped some of the Spanish sailors from jumping into the sea. A few, however, jumped, while two or three, who were not quick enough, went hurrying up the top-most wood arms. Captain Delano signaled to his ship, ordering it to get its guns ready. When the whale boat reached his ship Captain Delano asked for ropes. He tied Babo, and had him pulled up on deck. A small boat was quickly sent out to pick up three Spanish sailors who had jumped from Captain Cereno’s ship. Captain Delano asked Don Benito what guns the rebels had. He answered that they had none that could be used. In the first days of the rebellion, a cabin passenger now dead had destroyed the few guns there were. The Americans fired six shots at the San Dominick. But the rebel ship moved out of reach. Small boats were armed and lowered. Captain Delano ordered his men into them. And they moved out to capture the rebel ship. The boats caught up with the San Dominick when it was nearly night. But the moon was rising, and the gunners were able to see where they were shooting. The rebels had no bullets. And they could do nothing but yell. Many of the rebels were killed and the San Dominick was captured. After an investigation, Babo was found guilty of stealing a ship and of murder, and was hanged. Captain Benito Cereno never was well again and he soon died. So, ended the terrible story of the slave revolt aboard the slave ship, the San Dominick. (MUSIC) ANNOUNCER: You have just heard the American Story "Benito Cereno." It was written by Herman Melville. Your storyteller was Shep O'Neal. Join us again next week for another American Story in V.O.A. Special English. I'm Faith Lapidus.
ANNOUNCER: Now, the Special English program, American Stories.
ANNOUNCER: Now, the VOA Special English program, American Stories.
| Benito Cereno, Part Two | |
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24 June 2006 |
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Now, the VOA Special English program AMERICAN STORIES.
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Today, we continue the story "Benito Cereno." It was written by Herman Melville.
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Last week, we told how African slaves on a Spanish ship rebelled in seventeen ninety-nine. They killed most of the Spanish sailors. Only the captain, Benito Cereno, and a few others were left alive.
The leader of the rebellion was a slave named Babo. He ordered Captain Cereno to sail the ship back to Senegal, the slaves' homeland. But food and water were low. So the ship stopped at an island off the coast of Chile to get the needed supplies.
When it arrived, an American ship was in the harbor. The American captain, Amoso Delano, thought the Spanish ship might be in trouble. He would offer help.
Babo decided to remain close to Captain Cereno and act as if he were the captain's slave. Babo would kill him if he told Captain Delano the truth about what happened.
Now, here is Shep O'Neal to continue our story.
STORYTELLER:
As Captain Delano came up in his whale boat, he saw that the other ship needed scraping, tarring and brushing. It looked old and decayed. He climbed up the side and came aboard. He was quickly surrounded by a crowd of black men. Captain Delano looked around for the man who commanded the ship. The Spanish captain stood a little away off against the main mast. He was young looking, richly dressed but seemed troubled and tired with the spirit gone out of him. He looked unhappily toward his American visitor. At the Spanish's captain side stood a small black man with a rough face.
Captain Delano struggled forward through the crowd, went up to the Spainard and greeted him. He offered to help him in any way he could. Captain Benito Cereno returned the American's greeting politely, but without warmth. Captain Delano pushed his way back through the crowd to the gangway. He told his men to go and bring back as much water as they could, also bread, pumpkins, sugar and a dozen of his private bottles of cider. The whale boat pushed off.
Left alone, Captain Delano again observed with fresh surprise the general disorder aboard the ship. Some of the men were fighting. There were no deck officers to discipline or control the violent ones. And everyone seemed to do as he pleased. Captain Delano could not fully understand how this could have happened. What could explain such a break down of order and responsibility? He asked Don Benito to give him the full story of his ship's misfortunes. Don Benito did not answer. He just kept looking at his American visitor as if he heard nothing.
This angered Captain Delano, who suddenly turned away and walked forward to one of the Spanish seamen for his answer. But he had hardly gone five steps when Don Benito called him back. "It is now a hundred and ninety days," Don Benito began, "that the ship sailed from Buenos Aires for Lima with a general cargo. Pedigree, tea, and the like, and a number of negros, now not more than a hundred and fifty as you see, but then numbering over three hundred souls. The ship was officered and well-manned, with several cabin passengers. Some fifty Spaniards in all.
Off Cape Horn we had heavy gales." Captain Cereno coughed suddenly and almost collapsed. He fell heavily against his body servant. "His mind wanders," said Babo. "He was thinking of the disease that followed the gales. My poor, poor master. Be patient senor, these attacks do not last long. Master will soon be himself."
Don Benito recovered, and in a broken voice continued his story. "My ship was tossed about many days in storms off Cape Horn. And then there was an outbreak of scurvy. The disease carried off many whites and blacks. Most of my surviving seaman had become so sick that they could not handle the sails well. For days and nights we could not control the ship. It was blown north-westward. The wind suddenly left us in unknown waters with oppressive hot calms. Most of our water was gone.
And we suffered terribly, especially after a deadly fever broke out among us. Whole families of blacks and many Spaniards, including every officer but myself, were killed by the disease."
Don Benito paused. He looked down at the black man at his side. Babo seemed satisfied. The Spanish captain saw him take his hand from the knife hidden under his shirt.
Captain Delano saw nothing. His mind was filled with the terrible tale he had just heard. Now he could understand why the other captain seemed so shaken. He took Don Benito's hand and promised to give him all the help possible. He would give him a large permanent supply of water, and some sails and equipment for sailing the ship. And he also promised to let Don Benito have three of his best seamen for temporary deck officers. In this way, the San Dominick could without delay start for Concepcion. There the ship could be fixed and prepared for its voyage to Lima.
Don Benito's face lighted up. He seemed excited by Captain Delano's generous offer. But, Babo appeared troubled. "This excitement is bad for master," Babo whispered, taking Don Benito's arm and with soothing words gently drawing him aside. When Don Benito returned, Captain Delano observed that his excitement was gone.
Captain Delano decided to talk of other matters. But the Spanish captain showed no further interest. He answered Captain Delano's questions with sharp words and suddenly with an angry movement he walked back to Babo.
Captain Delano watched the two men whispering together in low voices. It made an ugly picture, which Captain Delano found so extremely unpleasant that he turned his face to the other side of the ship. Their actions made Delano suspicious of Captain Cereno. He began to wonder about him. His behavior. His coughing attacks. His weakness. His empty wild looks. Was he really half mad or a faker playing a part? One moment Captain Delano had the worst suspicions of Don Benito. But the next he would feel guilty and ashamed of himself for having such doubts about the man.
Presently, Don Benito moved back toward his guest, still supported by his servant. His pale face twitched. He seemed more nervous than usual. And there was a strange tone in his husky whisper as he spoke. "May I ask how many men you have on board, senor?" Captain Delano became uneasy, but answered. "About twenty-five all total." "And at present, senor, all on board?" "All on board," Captain Delano answered. "And will be tonight, senor?"
At this last question, Captain Delano looked very seriously at Don Benito, who could not return the look but dropped his eyes to the deck. Captain Delano could think of only one reason for such a question. But no, it was foolish to think that these weak and starving men could have any idea of seizing his ship. But still he remained silent. "And will they be aboard tonight?" Again the question from Don Benito. Captain Delano decided to answer truthfully. Some of his men had talked of going off on a fishing party about midnight. And he told Don Benito this.
As he answered, Captain Delano again looked straight at Don Benito. But the Spanish captain refused to meet his eyes. Then as before, he suddenly withdrew with his servant. And again the two men began whispering to each other in low voices. Captain Delano tried to push the worry from his mind. But what were those two strange men discussing? That will be our story next week.
(MUSIC)
ANNOUNCER:
You have been listening to the VOA Special English program AMERICAN STORIES. Your narrator was Shep O'Neal. We invite you to listen again next week for the final part of "Benito Cereno" by Herman Melville. I'm Jim Tedder.
ANNOUNCER: Now, the V.O.A. Special English program, American Stories. (MUSIC) Our story today is called "Benito Cereno." It was written by Herman Melville. We tell the story in three parts. Here is Shep O'Neal with part one of "Benito Cereno." (MUSIC) STORYTELLER: Captain Benito Cereno hurried aboard his ship. It was ready to sail. A bright sun and a soft breeze promised good weather ahead. The ship's anchor was raised. And the San Dominick -- old but still seaworthy - moved slowly out of the harbor of Valparaiso, on the west coast of Chile. It was carrying valuable products and slaves up the Pacific coast to Callao, another Spanish colonial port near Lima, Peru. The slaves, both male and female, slept on deck. They were not chained, because their owner, Don Alexandro, said they were peaceful. The San Dominick moved steadily forward under a clear sky. The weather showed no sign of change. Day after day, the soft breeze kept the ship on course toward Peru. Slave traffic between Spain's colonial ports in this year of seventeen ninety-nine had been steady. But there were few outbreaks of violence. What happened, therefore, on board the San Dominick could not have been expected. On the seventh day out, before daybreak, the slaves rose up in rebellion. They swept through the ship with handspikes and hatchets moving with the fury of desperate men. The attack was a complete surprise. Few of the crew were awake. All hands, except the two officers on the watch, lay in a deep untroubled sleep. The rebels sprang upon the two officers and left them half dead. Then, one by one, they killed eighteen of the sleeping crew. They threw some overboard, alive. A few hid and escaped death. The rebels tied up seven others, but left them alive to navigate the ship. As the day began to break, Captain Cereno came slowly, carefully up the steps toward the chief rebel leader, Babo, and begged for mercy. He promised to follow Babo's commands if he would only put an end to the killings. But this had no effect. Babo had three men brought up on deck and tied. Then, the three Spaniards were thrown overboard. Babo did this to show his power and authority -- that he was in command. Babo, however, promised not to murder Captain Cereno. But everything he said carried a threat. He asked the captain if in these seas there were any negro countries. "None," Cereno answered. "Then, take us to Senegal or the neighboring islands of Saint Nicholas." Captain Cereno was shaken. "That is impossible!" he said. "It would mean going around Cape Horn. And this ship is in no condition for such a voyage. And we do not have enough supplies, or sails or water." "Take us there, anyway," Babo answered sharply, showing little interest in such details. "If you refuse, we will kill every white man on board." Captain Cereno knew he had no choice. He told the rebel leader that the most serious problem in making such a long voyage was water. Babo said they should sail to the island of Santa Maria near the southern end of Chile. He knew that no one lived on the island. But water and supplies could be found there. He forced Captain Cereno to keep away from any port. He threatened to kill him the moment he saw him start to move toward any city, town or settlement on shore. Cereno had to agree to sail to the island of Santa Maria. He still hoped that he might meet along the way, or at the island itself, a ship that could help him. Perhaps -- who knows -- he might find a boat on the island and be able to escape to the nearby coast of Arruco. Hope was all he had left. And that was getting smaller each day. Captain Cereno steered south for Santa Maria. The voyage would take weeks. Eight days after the ship turned south, Babo told Captain Cereno that he was going to kill Don Alexandro, owner of the slaves on board. He said it had to be done. Otherwise, he and the other slaves could never be sure of their freedom. He refused to listen to the captain's appeals, and ordered two men to pull Don Alexandro up from below and kill him on deck. It was done as ordered. Three other Spaniards were also brought up and thrown overboard. Babo warned Cereno and the other Spaniards that each one of them would go the same way if any of them gave the smallest cause for suspicion. Cereno decided to do everything possible to save the lives of those remaining. He agreed to carry the rebels safely to Senegal if they promised peace and no further bloodshed. And he signed a document that gave the rebels ownership of the ship and its cargo. Later, as they sailed down the long coast of Chile, the wind suddenly dropped. The ship drifted into a deep calm. For days, it lay still in the water. The heat was fierce; the suffering intense. There was little water. That made matters worse. Some of those on board were driven mad. A few died. The pressure and tension made many violent. And they killed a Spanish officer. After a time, a breeze came up and set the ship free again. And it continued south. The voyage seemed endless. The ship sailed for weeks with little water on board. It moved through days of good weather and periods of bad weather. There were times when it sailed under heavy skies, and times when the wind dropped and the ship lay be-calmed in lifeless air. The crew seemed half dead. At last, one evening in the month of August, the San Dominick reached the lonely island of Santa Maria. It moved slowly toward one of the island's bays to drop anchor. Not far off lay an American ship. And, the sight of the ship caught the rebels by surprise. The slaves became tense and fearful. They wanted to sail away, quickly. But their leader, Babo, opposed such a move. Where could they go. Their water and food were low. He succeeded in bringing them under control and in quieting their fears. He told them they had nothing to fear. And they believed him. Then, he ordered everyone to go to work, to clean the decks and put the ship in proper and good condition, so that no visitor would suspect anything was wrong. Later, he spoke to Captain Cereno, warning him that he would kill him if he did not do as he was told. He explained in detail what Cereno was to do and say if any stranger came on board. He held a dagger in his hand, saying it would always be ready for any emergency. The American vessel was a large tradeship and seal hunter, commanded by Captain Amasa Delano. He had stopped at Santa Maria for water. On the American ship, shortly after sunrise, an officer woke Captain Delano, and told him a strange sail was coming into the bay. The captain quickly got up, dressed and went up on deck. Captain Delano raised his spy glass and looked closely at the strange ship coming slowly in. He was surprised that there was no flag. A ship usually showed its flag when entering a harbor where another ship lay at anchor. As the ship got closer, Captain Delano saw it was damaged. Many of its sails were ripped and torn. A mast was broken. And the deck was in disorder. Clearly the ship was in trouble. The American captain decided to go to the strange vessel and offer help. He ordered his whale boat put into the water, and had his men bring up some supplies and put them in the boat. Then they set out toward the mystery ship. As they approached, Captain Delano was shocked at the poor condition of the ship. He wondered what could have happened. . . And what he would find. That will be our story next week. (MUSIC) ANNOUNCER: You have heard part one of the American story "Benito Cereno." It was written by Herman Melville. Your storyteller was Shep O'Neal. Listen again next week at this time when we continue the American story "Benito Cereno" in V.O.A. Special English. I'm Barbara Klein.
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