A Treasury of Japanese Folktales

rushed toward the princess, ready to take her and bear her away.
With hunger and fatigue, the poor little princess fainted away.
Then Issunbōshi drew his needle sword and shouted at the top of
his voice, “Listen, you big lout! Who do you think this princess is?
None other than the most honorable daughter of Saishō-dono of
Sanjō. If you dare put your disagreeable hands on her, you can be
sure of Issunbōshi’s great anger.”

The ogre thought, “Where on earth does that voice come from?”
But when he looked down he saw a little pea-sized fellow standing
with feet apart looking up at him.

The ogre burst into a roar of laughter.

“Great Heavens! A pea-sized fellow! What a bother. Better
gobble him up!” And no sooner said than he picked him up and
swallowed him down in a single gulp.

Now Issunbōshi felt himself slipping down a long slimy tunnel,
which was the ogre’s throat, until he reached his stomach. It was
dank and dark and awful, but Issunbōshi drew his needle, and
running around pricked his stomach all over.

“Ouch! Ouch!” screamed the ogre. “What awful thing is
happening!”

It hurt him so much that he rolled on the ground in pain and
choked and choked. Issunbōshi was coughed up as high as his nose,
so he stabbed him there many times, and still stabbing with fury,
he reached the eyes and pricked him there too. By this time the
ogre was sneezing and screaming and was fit to die with pain, so
Issunbōshi jumped down to the ground. The ogre, thinking one of
his eyes had dropped out, ran away at once, yelling at the top of his
voice.

Issunbōshi knelt by the side of the princess and tried in his
small way to revive her. After a bit, she became conscious, and
feeling better, sat up and looked around. She then noticed that the
ogre had left his magic mallet behind. In Japan, a magic mallet is
the same as a magic wand, so the princess took hold of it at once
and, waving it up and down, chanted, “Grow up, grow up,
Issunbōshi. Grow up until you are an ordinary man.”

And wonder of wonders, each time she waved it Issunbōshi shot
up, until he was a handsome, strong young man.

Both of them were so happy. Issunbōshi could hardly believe it.
He smiled and stood up, and looked behind and in front of himself,
and marvelled and marvelled.

How lucky the princess and Issunbōshi were to have the magic
mallet to themselves. Some people spoil their luck by being greedy
and wishing for too much. But Issunbōshi and the princess were
wise and unselfish. They wished for just three more things.

First they wished for good food to eat. Then they wished for the
ogre’s hoard, which turned out to be a fortune. Lastly, they wished
for a big sturdy boat, on which they piled their treasures and went
home to Kyōto.

The news that Issunbōshi, a grown man, had safely returned,
bringing the princess and a fortune, spread rapidly until it reached
the ears of the Emperor. He summoned Issunbōshi, and seeing
what a promising youth he was, bestowed on him the title
Horikawa no Shōshō.

Issunbōshi then invited his parents to Kyōto and treated them
to all kinds of luxuries.

And naturally—in the way that all fairy tales end—he married
Saishō-dono’s daughter and lived happily ever after.

I looked at my watch—as grownups do—and jumped up. The
story had ended, just as time was up.















Bunbuku Chagama (The Lucky

Cauldron)

IN THE TEMPLE OF MORINJI lived an old priest. He liked collecting all
sorts of curios, and among them was a very old cauldron.

This priest also liked drinking Japanese tea, so one day he
called his little priestlings to his room.

“Come, come, my dear boys. We will have nice hot tea together.
Heat up some water in the old cauldron that I like so much.”

“Hai, hai,” they cried, and they busily set to work to oblige their
master. They brought charcoal to the sunken copper box in the
middle of the room, which is the Japanese fireplace. They put the
burning charcoal on the fine ashes, and with fans they kindled
sparks of fire. Then they filled the old cauldron with water and set
it on top. Presently the water began to sizzle, but dear, oh dear,
what was appearing on the sides of the cauldron?

A little fuzzy head, a bushy tail and four paws appeared!

“Ouch! Ouch! Dear me, dear me. Excuse me, honorable abbot. I
feel too hot. This fire is dreadful! I’m burning!” said a shrill little
voice.

“Ha!” cried the venerable priest.

“Hey!” shouted the priestlings. All jumped up very much
excited, for the cauldron had become a mischievous little badger.

You know, in old Japan naughty badgers used to change
themselves into various forms to trick people.

Well the badger couldn’t stand the heat. He jumped out of the
hearth and ran around with the boys in pursuit. They tucked up
their long black gowns, and with brooms and sticks ran after the
badger as fast as their short legs could carry them. They finally
held him fast, a cold, quiet cauldron, and brought him back to their
master.

“What shall we do? We cannot leave this evil thing here in our
temple,” said the priest sadly.

Just at that moment they heard someone in a high-pitched
voice calling outside, “Kuzui—kuzu—i, rags and bones, rags and
bones—”

“The very man we want!” exclaimed the priest. “Call him in, call
him in.”

So the cauldron was sold to a poor rag picker, who knew
nothing about the badger and his tricks.

Now this man, though poor, was very honest. He lived all alone
in a tumbledown hut. There were many holes in the paper sliding
doors of his room. The wind blew through the cracks in the walls
and the straw mats were bare and dirty. The rag picker could not
think what to do with an iron cauldron. He shivered in his thin
clothes and curled up on his bare mat for the night, leaving the old
cauldron by his bedside.

The moon rose cold and yellow in the sky. It was midnight. The
poor man gave little snivery grunts in his sleep.

Suddenly, “Mr. Rag Picker! Oh, Mr. Rag Picker. Wake up, wake
up!” cried a shrill voice.

The man jumped up, rubbed his eyes, and gave a gasp of
surprise, for there near his bed sat the cauldron-badger.

“Do not be frightened, Mr. Rag Picker. I will not be naughty. I
will not harm you,” the little fellow begged with many bows.

“Please take care of me and let me stay with you for a while. I
will help you, for I am Bunbuku chagama, and though I am really a

badger I had to take this form to escape from some cruel boys who
wanted to ill-treat me. Now I don’t know what to do with this
awkward thing on my back. But I am a lucky cauldron. I think I
can make some money for you. Listen—in the morning we will
start a little theater, for I have rare tricks to show people. They
will flock together to see me and you will be rich.”

The poor man could scarcely believe all this, but he was simple
minded, so he bowed his thanks and promised he’d do everything
just as the badger wished.

The next day on open ground, the rag picker put up a poster for
the badger.

“Bunbuku chagama” it read, which means “Lucky Cauldron.”
There he stood clapping two wooden sticks together to attract
attention.

“Come everybody. Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls! Come
and see my ‘Bunbuku chagama’—his tight rope dancing, his tricks,
his transformations!”

People stopped and pushed in and were astonished, for the
badger was really marvelous. Everybody laughed and clapped their
hands to see his many feats and tricks. Onlookers came from near
and far and soon the whole ground was packed with people. Money
poured in, and everything turned out just as the badger had said.

Everyday Bunbuku chagama went through his tricks over and
over again, and never complained of being tired. The rag picker
took good care of him and before long he became rich and was able
to live in a comfortable house of his own.

One day, when the show closed and the rag picker hurried
behind the curtains to thank his dear friend, he found himself all
alone with a cold iron cauldron.

It was no longer Bunbuku chagama. The badger had gone.

Then the rag picker, who was not a greedy person, thought of
the old priest. He polished the cauldron up and carried it with
great care back to the temple of Morinji. He returned it to the old
priest with many thanks and with half of the money he had
earned.

There it remains to this day. But because it is a treasure it rests
on a thick purple cushion and people gaze upon it with respect.

Thus ends the story of Bunbuku chagama.









Sarukani Kassen (The Monkey-and-Crab

Fight)

MOTHER OKĀSAN had a bright idea. She thought it would be fun for
her children to act out a Japanese fairy tale. So she called her
three boys and three girls by name.

“Tarō, Jirō, Saburō, Hanako, Yoshiko, Kimiko. Come here, my
dears. Let us put on ‘The Monkey and Crab Fight.’”

What excitement! Six pairs of eyes shone with delight. The
monkey and the crab never get on together, you know, and this is
how it happened.

The Monkey-and-Crab Fight

Cast of Characters

SIR KANI, the father crab Tarō
SARU, the hairy monkey Jirō
LITTLE KANI, the child crab Yoshiko
KURI, the cheerful chestnut Kimiko
HACHI, the bee Hanako
USU, the rice mortar Saburō

Scene: A sandy beach. We hear the swish of waves and see some
rocks to the extreme right. There is a bamboo fence with a wooden
gate in the middle. Some stepping-stones lead through a small
garden on the left to a farmer’s house. We see a room with tatami
(which are straw mats) and a sunken hearth with a kettle on it.
Outside the engawa (a veranda), a big water vessel is placed.

Scene 1. A fine bright day. When the curtain rises, Sir Kani, the
crab, is discovered taking a walk by the rocks. He looks up at the
blue sky and feels the good warm sun on his back. He is very
content. As he walks he hums a tune and waves his nippers in the
air.

Sir Kani (singing aloud):
Haru ga kita, haru ga kita,
Doko ni kita?
Yama ni kita, sato ni kita,
No ni mo kita.
(Spring is here, spring is here, where o where is it?
In the mountains, in the valley, and in meadows too.)
(He discovers a nice round rice ball lying at his feet. He picks it
up.)

What luck! A fine, delicious-looking rice ball. My favorite, too. I will
take it home and eat it with my little girl.
(At this moment a big hairy monkey enters. In his hand he carries a
brown persimmon pit. He perches himself on one of the rocks and
looks hard at Sir Kani and the delicious-looking rice ball.)

Sir Kani (looking up happily): Good morning, my good friend Saru-
san. Look what I have here!
Saru (getting red with envy but trying hard not to show it): I see,
my dear friend, but I have picked up something good too. Look, a
big brown persimmon stone (pit). It shines in the sun. But I’m a
good-natured fellow. I’ll give it to you if you’ll let me have the rice
ball.
Sir Kani: Oh no, dear Saru-san. Pardon me, but my rice ball is
bigger and tastier than your little stone.
Saru: A rice ball—what of it! If you eat it, nothing will be left.
Take my persimmon stone, and you’ll soon have a splendid tree
bearing good fruit.
Sir Kani (stroking his smooth red back with one of his legs): Let me
think. Well, well, it is hard to part with this good-looking rice ball,
but as you say, with patience the stone will grow into a tree.

Saru: Kani, good old boy! You have more sense than I thought.
Hurry up—come here and let’s make the exchange.
Sir Kani (with misgivings): I’m not sure—but as you say—as you
say. (Saru hops forward and they exchange their possessions.)
Saru: Now Kani! Look at me and you’ll see how fast a rice ball like
this can disappear. Musha musha—munch munch. Dear, oh dear,
some of the rice grains have stuck to my fingers. Bero bero—lick
lick. And around my mouth too—bero lick, bero lick. I’m full
(stroking his hairy tummy) and feel fine now. I think I’ll go for a
pleasant walk up the hills. Good day, Kani, my friend. (exits)
Sir Kani (in a small sad voice): Oh dear, I am—a foolish creature,
with this little persimmon stone. (Walks thoughtfully through the
wooden gate to his garden. Little Kani skips out from the house and
runs toward her father.)
Sir Kani: Come closer, little girl, for I’m going to plant this
persimmon stone. (Scrapes the earth with his nippers and buries
it.) Now watch while I water it. (While he waves his watering can
he chants softly:)
Sprout out—sprout out,
Fast my little stone. If you don’t
I’ll cut you with my nippers.
(Little Kani skips round the planted persimmon stone.)
Little Kani: We’ll water it and care for it every day—our dear
little persimmon stone—until we have a stout green blade.
Sir Kani: We’ll change our song, when we have a green little
blade. Listen to my next one: Grow up, grow up,
Fast my little sprout.
If you don’t
I’ll cut you with my nippers.
Little Kani (skipping around again): We’ll water it and care for it
until we have a beautiful tree.
Sir Kani (his voice rising): We’ll change our little song again—
listen!
Bear fruit, bear fruit,
Fast my beautiful tree.

If you don’t
I’ll cut you with my nippers.
Little Kani (laughing happily): Then we’ll have good fruit to eat
every day.

CURTAIN

Scene 2. The same, except that in Sir Kani’s garden there is a full-
grown persimmon tree bearing ripe fruit. Sir Kani with his
watering can is seen standing at its foot.

Sir Kani: A long time and much patience it has taken us, but what
a reward! If only I can reach the ripe ones without breaking my
poor bones. (He reaches out his nippers and jumps many times
trying to reach the lower fruit but he cannot get them. Enter Saru,
jumping from rock to rock.)
Saru: Good day, Kani, my friend. My, my, all this from that little
brown persimmon stone! You must be glad you took it from me that
day. However, no ill feelings! I’ve been watching from afar and see
that you have trouble reaching the fruit. Can I help you? I’m a
nimble climber as you know.
Sir Kani: You do make me feel stupid, but please climb up then
and throw me down the ripe ones. I will reward you with some for
yourself. (At once Saru jumps up to the lowest branch and is soon
high up among the branches. He picks a big ripe one and starts
eating it.)
Saru: Watch me again, Kani, you fool! You watched me once
before. Musha musha—yum yum. Sweet and cool and good.
Wouldn’t you like to taste one yourself—but, no, a simple-ton like
you only deserves the hard green ones. You make a good target
there, I must say. (He picks the hard ones and throws them at poor
honest Sir Kani, who is looking up at him. They hit him all over
and with cries of pain he falls over and lies still with his head in
his arms. Saru peers down, smacks his lips, fills his kimono with as
much ripe fruit as possible, climbs down, and makes his exit
hurriedly. Little Kani comes running in and stops in dismay when

she sees her father lying on the ground.)

Little Kani (shaking him gently): Otōsan, father, father! What
terrible thing has happened! (looking around at the green fruit
rolling about, then up at the tree.) Oh, oh, what awful, unkind work
this is! It must be that horrible Saru again! (sobbing loudly) Oh, oh,
I cannot stand it! (At this moment a little brown chestnut with a
cheerful, smiling face springs down near little Kani.)

Kuri: My poor little Kani! What makes you cry so sadly?
Little Kani: That bad, bad Saru has hurt my father so dreadfully,
and see how he has taken the good persimmons! (sobs again)
Kuri: Don’t cry so hopelessly little one. We will pay Saru back. I’ll
get some of my good friends and see to that. Don’t cry any more.
(Little Kani kneels near her father, tenderly lifts his head on her
lap, and strokes his hurt back. Kuri the chestnut springs out and
brings in her friends—Hachi, the bee with the sharp spear, and
Usu, the big rice mortar.)
Kuri (to her friends): See here, my friends—this is how it is, and
I’ve promised little Kani we’ll help her.
Usu: Oya ma—terrible, terrible! We must punish the treacherous
creature.
Kuri: Yes, yes! The greedy old monkey will be coming back for

more soon, so I, for one, will hide in the ashes of the sunken
hearth. (Hides herself)
Hachi: I, for two, will hide in this big water urn. (Hides)
Usu: And I, for three, will hide on top of the roof. (Follows the
others. Presently Saru is again seen hopping from rock to rock
toward the persimmon tree. He looks around stealthily and only
sees the little crab crouching sorrowfully over her wounded father.
He yawns and stretches himself.)

Saru: A-a-a-a-a-! I’m thirsty after that good feast. Let’s see—before
climbing for some more I’ll help myself to a good drink. (He hops
into Kani’s home and stretches out his arm for the kettle on the
sunken hearth. At this moment, Kuri, the cheerful chestnut, springs
out at him and gives him a good whack on the nose with a hot
cinder.)
Saru: Atsui! Great Heavens! What is this!
My poor nose is burning! Water! Water!
(He rushes to the water urn and tries to stick his face inside, but
Hachi the bee bursts forth with her sharp spear and gives him a
good thrust above his eyes.)
Saru: Itai! Itai! Ouch! Ouch! This place is haunted. I must run for
my life!
(He rushes outside, but at that moment Usu, the big rice mortar,
jumps from the roof on top of him and Saru is crushed beneath.)

Saru: Help! Help! (His face gets redder and redder. He waves his
arms and legs and groans.) Help! Help! I’ve been squashed!
(Little Kani, Hachi and Kuri gather round him.)
Kuri: You have brought all this on yourself—you bad creature!
Now little Kani, chop off his head with your sharp pair of nippers.
Saru: No! No! Oh, please have mercy on me! I’m wicked. I’ve
cheated Kani-san, but please forgive me—forgive me!
Little Kani: So you’re sorry, are you? It’s hard for me to forgive
you, but come, let’s see what father has to say. (Saru stands up
painfully and is led to Sir Kani. He kneels down slowly and bows
many times.)
Saru: Forgive me, Sir Kani. I’ve been a mean creature, but grant
me pardon. I will try to mend my ways, for I realize that it does not
pay to be bad.

Sir Kani (slowly): Yes Saru-san, the wicked will always be
punished. You have admitted your faults. Try to overcome them.
Get rid of your cunning ways, and let’s hope we’ll get along better.
Saru (dashing away the tears with a paw and stuttering with
emotion): Th-thank you, Sir Kani: You are s-so k-kind. (breaks
down and sobs.)
Sir Kani: Let bygones be bygones—but I thank you, dear Kuri,
Hachi and Usu for bringing Saru to his senses.
(The rest join hands and chant.)

All’s well that ends well,
All’s well that ends well.













CURTAIN

“Well done, my children,” said Mother Okāsan. “Now you will
remember why it is that though Sir Kani forgave Saru, all his
descendants never really trust monkeys.”