“Dat voice is wuss dan all, dat voice will not do.” Den dey sen’ off for Peafowl, but Peafowl would not go. Dey went back ter dinner, all de people went back ter dinner, an’ when dey were at dinner in a large house, de Peafowl came in an’ sing— Mi - kale an’ iv’ry, Mi - kale an’ iv’rv. Mi - kale an’ iv’ry, Mi - kale an’ iv’ry, Why - ou, Why - ou Why - ou Why - ou Why-ou Wife gwine ter die. Den de genelmen jump up an’ say, “Hullo! What dat?” De King say, “Sing again, my pritty lil’ bird,” an’ den de Peafowl sang, “Mikale an’ iv’ry, Mikale an’ iv’ry, Mikale an’ iv’ry, Whyou, Whyou, Whyou, Whyou, Whyou wife gwine ter die.” “What dat? What dat? What dat?” dey say, an’ de bird den settin’ on de tree sing, “Mikale an’ iv’ry,” etc. De King say, “Sing again, you pritty lil’ bird. You dress shall be tipped with blue, an’ you shall hab a beautiful field of corn as a present.” An’ de bird sang again better, when he har dat, “Mikale an’ iv’ry, Mikale an’ iv’ry, Mikale an’ iv’ry, Mikale an’ iv’ry, whyou, whyou, whyou, whyou, whyou wife gwine ter die.” De King jump up an’ call de buggy, an’ jump in an’ tek de Peafowl in, an’ all de horses was richly decked, an’ all de company very fine, dey dribe de Peafowl home, an’ dat why de Peafowl hav such a beautiful dress. HANSEL AND GRETHEL By William and Jacob Grimm Once upon a time there dwelt near a large wood a poor woodcutter with his wife and two children by his former marriage, a little boy called Hansel and a girl named Grethel. He had little enough to break or bite, and once, when there was a great famine in the land, he could not procure even his daily bread; and as he lay thinking in his bed one evening, rolling about for trouble, he sighed, and said to his wife, “What will become of us? How can we feed our children when we have no more than we can eat ourselves?” “Know, then, my husband,” answered she, “we will lead them away quite early in the morning into the thickest part of the wood, and there make them a fire, and give them each a little piece of bread; then we will go to our work and leave them alone, so they will not find the way home again and we shall be freed from them.” “No, wife,” replied he, “that I can never do; how can you bring your heart to leave my children all alone in the wood, for the wild beasts will soon come and tear them to pieces?” “Oh, you simpleton!” said she, “then we must all four die of hunger; you had better plane the coffins for us.” But she left him no peace till he consented saying, “Ah, but I shall regret the poor children.”