<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463</id><updated>2012-01-28T10:58:44.244-08:00</updated><category term='Parables'/><category term='Children&apos;s Stories'/><category term='Funny Stories'/><category term='Fairy Tales'/><title type='text'>Short Stories Collection</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-4194946502471112428</id><published>2012-01-28T10:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:55:11.033-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Parables'/><title type='text'>Parable Of The Pencil</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Sp836vSNBvk/TyRESXXPbcI/AAAAAAAAABY/e0B1Iu1POIQ/s1600/Parable+Of+The+Pencil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="117" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Sp836vSNBvk/TyRESXXPbcI/AAAAAAAAABY/e0B1Iu1POIQ/s320/Parable+Of+The+Pencil.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Pencil Maker took the pencil aside, just before putting him into the box.&lt;/div&gt;“There are 5 things you need to know,” he told the pencil, “Before I  send you out into the world. Always remember them and never forget, and  you will become the best pencil you can be.”&lt;br /&gt;“One: You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in Someone’s hand.”&lt;br /&gt;“Two: You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, but you’ll need it to become a better pencil.”&lt;br /&gt;“Three: You will be able to correct any mistakes you might make.”&lt;br /&gt;“Four: The most important part of you will always be what’s inside.”&lt;br /&gt;“And Five: On every surface you are used on, you must leave your  mark. No matter what the condition, you must continue to write.”&lt;br /&gt;The pencil understood and promised to remember, and went into the box with purpose in its heart.&lt;br /&gt;Now replacing the place of the pencil with you. Always remember them  and never forget, and you will become the best person you can be.&lt;br /&gt;One: You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow  yourself to be held in God’s hand. And allow other human beings to  access you for the many gifts you possess.&lt;br /&gt;Two: You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, by  going through various problems in life, but you’ll need it to become a  stronger person.&lt;br /&gt;Three: You will be able to correct any mistakes you might make.&lt;br /&gt;Four: The most important part of you will always be what’s on the inside.&lt;br /&gt;And Five: On every surface you walk through, you must leave your  mark. No matter what the situation, you must continue to do your duties.&lt;br /&gt;Allow this parable on the pencil to encourage you to know that you  are a special person and only you can fulfill the purpose to which you  were born to accomplish.&lt;br /&gt;Never allow yourself to get discouraged and think that your life is insignificant and cannot make a change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-4194946502471112428?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/4194946502471112428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/parable-of-pencil.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/4194946502471112428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/4194946502471112428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/parable-of-pencil.html' title='Parable Of The Pencil'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Sp836vSNBvk/TyRESXXPbcI/AAAAAAAAABY/e0B1Iu1POIQ/s72-c/Parable+Of+The+Pencil.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-8039941558782604178</id><published>2012-01-28T10:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:52:05.617-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Funny Stories'/><title type='text'>Chico and the Crane</title><content type='html'>There was a cook named Chico. His master had visitors for dinner and  Chico was told to fry a crane. Chico felt hungry and so he ate one leg  of the crane.&lt;br /&gt;At dinnertime, when the master saw a missing leg, he shouted, “Chico!  Why does this crane have only one leg?” Chico replied, “Sir, haven’t  you seen cranes before? They only have one leg!” To teach Chico a  lesson, next morning, his master took him to the pond nearby. Chico  exclaimed, “Look, Master! Cranes have only one leg!” The master clapped  his hands and all the cranes uncurled their other legs and flew away.  “You fool! Did you see they have two legs!” cried the master. Clever  Chico replied, “Sir, why didn’t you clap your hands at the table? You  would have got two legs!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-8039941558782604178?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/8039941558782604178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/chico-and-crane.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/8039941558782604178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/8039941558782604178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/chico-and-crane.html' title='Chico and the Crane'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-6514348012789086861</id><published>2012-01-28T10:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:51:32.364-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Funny Stories'/><title type='text'>Christmas</title><content type='html'>“Christmas is approaching. You must clean the house well,” said Jack  to his wife. The silly wife thought that Christmas must be a man. “Are  you Christmas?” she asked all the people passing by. One wily person,  who was going down the street, said that his name was Christmas. The  silly wife gave him everything inside the house. When her husband came  to know of this, he was very angry.&lt;br /&gt;“Be careful this time. Keep the pig for Christmas,” warned Jack. The  stupid woman called the man who called himself Christmas and gave him  the pig. When her husband came home and asked her about the pig, she  said, “But you told me to give it to Christmas!” He held his head in  despair and vowed never to say anything to her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-6514348012789086861?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/6514348012789086861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/christmas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/6514348012789086861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/6514348012789086861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/christmas.html' title='Christmas'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-2807583119049220912</id><published>2012-01-28T10:50:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:50:53.313-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Funny Stories'/><title type='text'>The Cabbage</title><content type='html'>One day, two boys, Tom and Harry, were passing by a garden. They saw a  big cabbage and Tom boasted, “I once saw a cabbage bigger than this.”  Harry promptly replied, “That must have been huge. Once I made a pot  bigger than the church.” Tom was puzzled. “Why?” he asked. “To boil your  cabbage,” replied Harry. Tom was ashamed and realised that he must not  tell lies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-2807583119049220912?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/2807583119049220912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/cabbage.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/2807583119049220912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/2807583119049220912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/cabbage.html' title='The Cabbage'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-6363595682976531360</id><published>2012-01-28T10:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:50:20.264-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Funny Stories'/><title type='text'>Fishermen story</title><content type='html'>Two men went fishing. One was an experienced fisherman, the other  wasn’t. Every time the experienced fisherman caught a big fish, he put  it in his ice chest to keep it fresh. Whenever the inexperienced  fisherman caught a big fish, he threw it back.&lt;br /&gt;The experienced fisherman watched this go on all day and finally got  tired of seeing the man waste good fish. “Why do you keep throwing back  all the big fish you catch?” he asked.&lt;br /&gt;The inexperienced fisherman replied, “I only have a small frying pan.”&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, like that fisherman,&lt;br /&gt;we throw back the big plans, big dreams, big jobs, big opportunities that God gives us.&lt;br /&gt;Our faith is too small.&lt;br /&gt;We laugh at that fisherman who didn’t figure out that all he needed was a bigger frying pan,&lt;br /&gt;yet how ready are we to increase the size of our faith?&lt;br /&gt;Whether it’s a problem or a possibility,&lt;br /&gt;God will never give you anything bigger than you can handle.&lt;br /&gt;That means we can confidently walk into anything God brings our way.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;REMEMBER:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop telling God you’ve got big problems.&lt;br /&gt;Tell your problems you’ve got a BIG GOD!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-6363595682976531360?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/6363595682976531360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/fishermen-story.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/6363595682976531360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/6363595682976531360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/fishermen-story.html' title='Fishermen story'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-5168655121990771600</id><published>2012-01-28T10:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:49:00.170-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Funny Stories'/><title type='text'>The Man with the Coconuts</title><content type='html'>One day a man who had been to gather his coconuts loaded his horse  heavily with the fruit. On the way home he met a boy whom he asked how  long it would take to reach the house.&lt;br /&gt;“If you go slowly,” said the boy, looking at the load on the horse,  “you will arrive very soon; but if you go fast, it will take you all  day.”&lt;br /&gt;The man could not believe this strange speech, so he hurried his  horse. But the coconuts fell off and he had to stop to pick them up.  Then he hurried his horse all the more to make up for lost time, but the  coconuts fell off again. Many time he did this, and it was night when  he reached home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Source: Mabel Cook Cole,&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt;Philippine Folk Tales&amp;nbsp;&lt;/em&gt;(Chicago: A. C. McClurg, 1916), p. 88.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-5168655121990771600?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/5168655121990771600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/man-with-coconuts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/5168655121990771600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/5168655121990771600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/man-with-coconuts.html' title='The Man with the Coconuts'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-3646246604487052970</id><published>2012-01-28T10:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:47:29.696-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fairy Tales'/><title type='text'>The Naughty Clock Winder</title><content type='html'>The king of Elfland had a large collection of clocks. An elf called  Dickory Dock had to wind them up every day. Dickory Dock was a forgetful  elf So the king gave Dickory Dock an enchanted key and said. “Now you  don’t have to use many different keys. You can wind up all the clocks  with this key. In fact, it can wind up anything.”&lt;br /&gt;Alas! Dickory Dock would still forget to wind the clocks. The furious  king punished him severely. The naughty elf decided to teach the king a  lesson. He wound up all the furniture in the castle! Soon all the  chairs and books were dancing. “Mercy on its! This must be Dickory  Dock’s doing. Fetch him!” exclaimed the king. He wound Dickory Dock up  with the magic key and banished him from the kingdom. And so he goes  dancing around to this day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-3646246604487052970?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/3646246604487052970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/naughty-clock-winder.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/3646246604487052970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/3646246604487052970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/naughty-clock-winder.html' title='The Naughty Clock Winder'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-9112743677054796381</id><published>2012-01-28T10:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:46:49.554-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fairy Tales'/><title type='text'>Hole in the Water</title><content type='html'>A handsome and rich man decided to get married but could not find the right girl.&lt;br /&gt;One day, he met a beautiful lady near a well and fell in love with  her. He asked her if she would marry him. She replied. I will marry you  but only if you can do one thing. You must make a hole in the water for  me!” -That is impossible!” cried the man. She said, “if this is true  love. then even miracles can happen.” The man walked away sadly. He  really did love the woman but didn’t know how he could make a hole in  the water.&lt;br /&gt;Months passed and soon it was winter. All the lakes and ponds, and the water in the well. froze.&lt;br /&gt;Then the man remembered what the woman had asked for. He quickly ran  to the well where he had met her and saw her sitting there. lie took a  stick and made a hole in the ice. The woman was pleased and agreed to  marry him. Fie married her with a lot of pomp and splendour.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-9112743677054796381?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/9112743677054796381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/hole-in-water.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/9112743677054796381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/9112743677054796381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/hole-in-water.html' title='Hole in the Water'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-630869050653751823</id><published>2012-01-28T10:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:45:56.160-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fairy Tales'/><title type='text'>The White Squash</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time there lived a poor couple. They were very sad  because they had no children. They always prayed to God to bless them  with a child.&lt;br /&gt;The couple was so poor that they hardly had much to eat. They lived  on the big white squashes that grew in their garden. But one season. the  vine stopped bearing fruits. A lot of flowers bloomed on it but they  did not turn into fruits.&lt;br /&gt;One day, the woman was very happy to see a small green squash. After a  few days. it ripened and they decided to cut it. As they put the knife  in a small voice said, -BL careful!” When they carefully cut the squash  they found a small boy in it. The couple was very happy.&lt;br /&gt;The woman took the boy and bathed him with water. But to their  astonishment. the water turned into gold as soon as it touched the boy.  They realized that the boy was special and they were never poor again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-630869050653751823?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/630869050653751823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/white-squash.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/630869050653751823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/630869050653751823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/white-squash.html' title='The White Squash'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-7532034658948666934</id><published>2012-01-28T10:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:42:39.227-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fairy Tales'/><title type='text'>A Mouse Wedding</title><content type='html'>Little Johnny was fast asleep when the Sleep Fairy woke him up and  said, “Quick! Get dressed! We are going to the mouse’s wedding!”&lt;br /&gt;“Whooosh!” The Sleep Fairy turned Johnny into a tiny boy with a touch  of her magic wand. He wore a tin soldier’s uniform and went for the  wedding. “Cheesecakes and cheese candies! Even the walls are made of  cheese!” squealed Johnny. Even the bride and the groom sat on a cheese  couch. All the guests threw pumpkin seeds at the couple instead of rice.  They sang and danced to songs about cheese. Little Johnny enjoyed  himself and had a wonderful time all night. “Wake up, dear! Time for  school.” said Mummy. Little Johnny realised that it had all been a nice  dream. Sleep Fairy’s little dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-7532034658948666934?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/7532034658948666934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/mouse-wedding.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/7532034658948666934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/7532034658948666934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/mouse-wedding.html' title='A Mouse Wedding'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-8776926967058854910</id><published>2012-01-28T10:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:41:30.708-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fairy Tales'/><title type='text'>The Ice Cream Cart</title><content type='html'>Anne was a poor girl who lived with her mother. Every day, an ice  cream man would pass by her house but she had no money with which to buy  one. She would look at other children licking large cones of ice cream  and wish she could also be one of them.&lt;br /&gt;One day, the ice cream man took pity on her and gave her the whole  ice cream cart. He said. “This is a magic cart. You can ask it to make  any kind of ice cream. But when you want it to stop. you must say,  ‘Enough now’.'* Anne was very happy; she ate ice cream all day.&lt;br /&gt;One day, while she was away at school, her mother asked the cart to  make some ice cream. The cart started doing so. But Anne’s mother did  not know how to stop it, so the cart went on making ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;Soon, the whole house was filled with ice cream. When Anne returned  and saw ice cream everywhere. she had to lick tier way to the cart and  stop it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-8776926967058854910?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/8776926967058854910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/ice-cream-cart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/8776926967058854910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/8776926967058854910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/ice-cream-cart.html' title='The Ice Cream Cart'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-3112985524194876683</id><published>2012-01-28T10:40:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:40:44.154-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fairy Tales'/><title type='text'>Sly’s Ice Cream</title><content type='html'>Sly the Gnome was walking behind Mr. Wisdom, the wise man. “Clink!” A  shining one-pound coin fell out of Mr. Wisdom’s pocket and rolled down  the street. Sly picked it up and slipped it into his pocket. He knew  that was stealing, but then he was a mean gnome. Walking on he found a  group of children crowding round a man. “Why are you all so excited?- he  asked. One of the children said, “Oh, don’t you know? It’s the ice  cream man. Here, try some ice cream.” Sly took a bite. “Umm . . .” He  loved the sweet delicious taste. “Can I get some for a pound?” he asked.  “You can get a whole box for a pound,” said the children.&lt;br /&gt;Selfish Sly thought, “I will have it for my tea and won’t share it  with anyone.” He paid for the box of ice cream with Mr. Wisdom’s coin  and happily whistled as he set off for home.&lt;br /&gt;The day was hot. As Sly walked home, the ice cream began to melt.  Slowly it started dripping from a corner of the box. He couldn’t  understand what was happening. He peered into the box and saw there was  no ice cream. In its place was some cold yellow liquid. “Where is my ice  cream?” he cried out loud. He thought the ice cream man had cheated I  him. can’t eat this,” fie shouted angrily and flung the box away from  him. “Splat!” The box land on Mr. Wisdom who was just turning round the  corner! “Oho! I’ll teach you some manners, my boy!” said Mr. Wisdom,  wiping the ice cream from his face. He grabbed Sly and gave him a good  spanking. Crying, Sly ran home promising never to steal again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-3112985524194876683?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/3112985524194876683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/slys-ice-cream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/3112985524194876683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/3112985524194876683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/slys-ice-cream.html' title='Sly’s Ice Cream'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-2176893002377016339</id><published>2012-01-28T10:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:40:09.622-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fairy Tales'/><title type='text'>The Two Candles</title><content type='html'>Once a wax candle and a tallow candle were having a conversation. The  wax candle was very vain and boasted, “I will be placed in a silver  candle stand at tonight’s party.” The tallow candle answered, “It is  certainly better to be made of wax than of tallow but I am happy that I  burn in the kitchen where food is cooked.”&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, a rich lady came and picked up all the candles. Seeing the  tallow candle along with the wax candle, the lady gave it to a poor boy  who was passing by.&lt;br /&gt;The poor boy took the tallow candle home. Seeing the small cottage.  the tallow candle thought, “How lucky the wax candle is to be in its  rich home.”&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, the mother lit the tallow candle. One of the children  said, “Oh, we have light in the house today!” The tallow candle saw the  joy in his eyes and was happy to be in the cottage and did not envy the  wax candle again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-2176893002377016339?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/2176893002377016339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/two-candles.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/2176893002377016339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/2176893002377016339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/two-candles.html' title='The Two Candles'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-9153153061787814975</id><published>2012-01-28T10:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:39:37.585-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fairy Tales'/><title type='text'>The First Monkey</title><content type='html'>Once there lived an old woman and her grandson in a hut. The old  woman worked hard to feed her grandson and herself but her grandson was a  lazy boy. He did not help her in her work and took her money and spent  it all on his friends.&lt;br /&gt;One day, he came home hungry. “Where is my food?” he demanded. Alas!  The food was not ready. He became angry and finding coconuts lying on  the ground, threw them at his grandmother. “Food’ Food! Food!” he  chanted stamping his foot. The good behaviour fairy was passing by.  “I’ll teach this boy manners!” she thought. She waved her magic wand and  whoosh . . . the boy turned into a furry animal with a long tail. When  his friends saw him they threw stories at him. Lo! They too turned into  animals. The people drove them out of the town.&lt;br /&gt;The boy and his friends then began living on trees and came to be known as monkeys.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-9153153061787814975?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/9153153061787814975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/first-monkey.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/9153153061787814975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/9153153061787814975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/first-monkey.html' title='The First Monkey'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-3663736093922047451</id><published>2012-01-28T10:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:38:28.886-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fairy Tales'/><title type='text'>The Coachman’s Painting</title><content type='html'>A coachman who served in the king’s palace was also a talented artist.  His paintings looked real and alive. Once he painted a portrait of his  sister. The painting was so beautiful and life like that he kept it in  the royal stable. And whenever he felt sad and lonely. the coachman  would talk to the painting. People thought that a woman visited him  every night. When the king heard about this he decided to find out the  truth for himself. One night. he visited the stable. When he saw the  painting, the king fell in love with the beautiful woman. He asked the  coachman who it was. He was charmed by the coachman’s sister’s beauty  and married her amidst pomp and splendour. The coachman moved into the  palace and they lived happily ever after.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-3663736093922047451?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/3663736093922047451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/coachmans-painting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/3663736093922047451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/3663736093922047451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/coachmans-painting.html' title='The Coachman’s Painting'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-4531598398719592963</id><published>2012-01-28T10:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:36:49.422-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children&apos;s Stories'/><title type='text'>King Midas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tKbtbNyQFKo/TyRAEF3evuI/AAAAAAAAABQ/YDO1p4WvKlU/s1600/King+Midas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="162" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tKbtbNyQFKo/TyRAEF3evuI/AAAAAAAAABQ/YDO1p4WvKlU/s320/King+Midas.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;King Midas was a very greedy king. Even though he was very rich he always craved for more and more. &lt;br /&gt;One day, he called his court magician and commanded, -Find me a spell  that can get me more treasures than I already have.” The magician said,  “Your majesty, I can give you a power that no one else in this world  has. Anything that you touch will turn into gold’- The king was  delighted with his good fortune. Everything he touched turned into gold.  He turned trees, grass, tables, chairs, flowers, and vases into gold.  He thought that he must be the richest man in the world.&lt;br /&gt;But in the evening, when he sat down for supper, King Midas was  dismayed. His food turned into gold the moment he touched it and he had  to go&lt;br /&gt;to bed without any food! How­ever, King Midas was too greedy to be sad about it.&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, the king’s daughter ran to hug her father. But  alas! The minute she kissed him, she turned into a gold statue! King  Midas, who loved his daughter very much. was very sad and he ran to the&lt;br /&gt;magician for help. He cried, “Please help me, 0 Magician! I don’t  want to be rich anymore. I only want my beloved daughter back.” The  magician changed everything back to normal.&lt;br /&gt;King Midas had learnt his lesson and was never greedy again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-4531598398719592963?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/4531598398719592963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/king-midas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/4531598398719592963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/4531598398719592963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/king-midas.html' title='King Midas'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tKbtbNyQFKo/TyRAEF3evuI/AAAAAAAAABQ/YDO1p4WvKlU/s72-c/King+Midas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-4318977654607004769</id><published>2012-01-28T10:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:35:12.410-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children&apos;s Stories'/><title type='text'>Honest John</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-It03qohx3C0/TyQ_yaO1ruI/AAAAAAAAABI/rNiGTXdN4UY/s1600/Honest+John.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="162" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-It03qohx3C0/TyQ_yaO1ruI/AAAAAAAAABI/rNiGTXdN4UY/s320/Honest+John.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;John was a poor woodcutter. His axe was most precious to him. One  day, he went to the forest to chop some wood. He was sitting on a high  branch on the r&lt;sup&gt;i&lt;/sup&gt;verside when suddenly there was a strong wind, and his axe slipped and fell into the river. &lt;br /&gt;The poor woodcutter did not know what to do. He sat by the riverside  and started cry­ing. Just then, a river fairy ap­peared before him. She  asked him, “Why are you so sad?”&lt;br /&gt;John told her that he had lost his only axe. The fairy dived into the  river and brought out a silver axe. She said, “Here is your axe!” But  John said, “It’s not mine! I can’t take it!” The fairy dived again and  brought a golden axe. Again John said, “It’s not mine!” The fairy now  dived and brought the old iron axe. When John saw it, he said excitedly,  “This is my axe!”&lt;br /&gt;The fairy was touched by John’s honesty and gave him all the three axes. Now John was rich and lived happily ever after.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-4318977654607004769?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/4318977654607004769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/honest-john.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/4318977654607004769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/4318977654607004769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/honest-john.html' title='Honest John'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-It03qohx3C0/TyQ_yaO1ruI/AAAAAAAAABI/rNiGTXdN4UY/s72-c/Honest+John.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-1546411389461229947</id><published>2012-01-28T10:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:33:59.784-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children&apos;s Stories'/><title type='text'>Unity Is Strength</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d6KkxlWMCnU/TyQ_fl04-EI/AAAAAAAAABA/s1h7L4VrPgk/s1600/Unity+Is+Strength.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="162" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d6KkxlWMCnU/TyQ_fl04-EI/AAAAAAAAABA/s1h7L4VrPgk/s320/Unity+Is+Strength.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Once, an old man was very ill and lay dying in his bed. He had four  sons who were al­ways fighting with each other. He always worried about  them and wanted to teach them a lesson and asked his sons to come to  him. When they came, the old man gave them a bundle of sticks and said,  “Can you break these sticks?”&lt;br /&gt;The first son tried to break the bundle but nothing hap­pened. He  tried very hard and finally gave up. Then it was the turn of the second  son to try his luck. He thought it would be an easy task and picked up  the sticks easily. He tried his best to break the sticks but nothing  happened. Then, the third son tried to break the bundle of sticks, but  he couldn’t do anything either.&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, the youngest son jeered at his brothers and thought they  were very incom­petent. He thought he was very clever and took one stick  at a time and easily broke all of them.&lt;br /&gt;The old father then smiled at his sons and said, “Children, do you  understand what hap­pened? It is always easy to break the sticks one by  one. But when they are bundled to‑ gether, none of you could break them.  In the same way. you four brothers should always be together. No one  will be able to hurt you then.” The four brothers realised what their  father was trying to teach them and forgot all their enmity and learnt  that unity is strength.&lt;br /&gt;From that day onwards, they never fought with each other and lived together in peace and harmony.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-1546411389461229947?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/1546411389461229947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/unity-is-strength.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/1546411389461229947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/1546411389461229947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/unity-is-strength.html' title='Unity Is Strength'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d6KkxlWMCnU/TyQ_fl04-EI/AAAAAAAAABA/s1h7L4VrPgk/s72-c/Unity+Is+Strength.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-2418307789573843732</id><published>2012-01-28T10:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:32:25.715-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children&apos;s Stories'/><title type='text'>The Little Lost Hedgehog</title><content type='html'>On a bright sunny day, Mrs. Hedgehog and her family of ten young  hedgehogs helped each other wash clothes. Then they all sat on the  grassy bank to have cool lemonade and biscuits. Mrs. Hedgehog thought,  “How lucky I am to have such wonderful chil­dren.” Suddenly, she  realised that Baby Hedgehog was miss­ing. Everyone started looking in  the house, in the garden, in the woods, but Baby Hedge­hog could not be  seen. Mrs. Hedgehog began to cry and the others cried after her. Los­ing  hope, she picked up her hat. But to her astonishment, she found Baby  Hedgehog fast asleep inside the hat. All the hedgehogs were happy to  find Baby Hedgehog and cheered in joy. Their friends who lived nearby  heard the noise and came out to share their joy too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-2418307789573843732?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/2418307789573843732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/little-lost-hedgehog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/2418307789573843732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/2418307789573843732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/little-lost-hedgehog.html' title='The Little Lost Hedgehog'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-5112536852518194281</id><published>2012-01-28T10:31:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:31:52.254-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children&apos;s Stories'/><title type='text'>Who Will Bell the Cat?</title><content type='html'>There was a certain cat that was troubling the mice and had killed  many of them. All the mice met to talk about this big problem. The mice  wanted to get rid of the cat and decided to make a plan. The mice sat  and talked for a very long time but could not come to any conclusion. &lt;br /&gt;An old mouse stood up and said, “I know what we should do! &lt;em&gt;We &lt;/em&gt;should  tie a bell around the cat’s neck. When the bell tinkles, we will know  where the cat is!” All the other mice liked the idea. But one young  mouse stood up and asked, “That is a good idea, but may I ask who will  bell the cat?” None of the mice wanted to do that. The young mouse then  said, “It is easy to sit and have big ideas. But it is never easy to  carry them out.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-5112536852518194281?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/5112536852518194281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/who-will-bell-cat.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/5112536852518194281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/5112536852518194281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/who-will-bell-cat.html' title='Who Will Bell the Cat?'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-3463801983471634978</id><published>2012-01-28T10:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:31:06.227-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children&apos;s Stories'/><title type='text'>The Lion and the Mouse</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--igsRDMYlas/TyQ-ySqVFtI/AAAAAAAAAA4/VDwU57Ohd-E/s1600/The+Lion+and+the+Mouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="162" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--igsRDMYlas/TyQ-ySqVFtI/AAAAAAAAAA4/VDwU57Ohd-E/s320/The+Lion+and+the+Mouse.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A little mouse was passing through a lion’s den. The lion caught him  and was about to smash him when the little mouse spoke, “Sir, please let  me go, and I will do you a good turn one day, for sparing my life.” &lt;br /&gt;The lion was rather amused to hear this, thinking, “What good can he do me. . . ” but he let him go.&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks later, some huntsmen came to the same forest and spread a net around&lt;br /&gt;the lion’s den. The lion was captured. He struggled hard to set  himself free but he soon realised he was trapped. He roared with anger.&lt;br /&gt;The little mouse was looking for food, when he heard the lion’s roar.  He ran to him. See­ing the lion caught in the net, he started gnawing  at it at once. The mouse had sharp teeth and he soon freed the lion.&lt;br /&gt;The lion was very grateful to the little mouse. From that day, they became the best of friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-3463801983471634978?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/3463801983471634978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/lion-and-mouse.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/3463801983471634978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/3463801983471634978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/lion-and-mouse.html' title='The Lion and the Mouse'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--igsRDMYlas/TyQ-ySqVFtI/AAAAAAAAAA4/VDwU57Ohd-E/s72-c/The+Lion+and+the+Mouse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-5635093245192017451</id><published>2012-01-28T10:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:29:40.891-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children&apos;s Stories'/><title type='text'>Queen of Riddles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i_QJIAvhCqg/TyQ-ejLhdoI/AAAAAAAAAAw/nuQ-LRMbNAU/s1600/Queen+of+Riddles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="162" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i_QJIAvhCqg/TyQ-ejLhdoI/AAAAAAAAAAw/nuQ-LRMbNAU/s320/Queen+of+Riddles.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A clever queen who lived in Petersburg was very vain. “I am good at  everything. Isn’t there anyone who can beat me?” she thought to herself.  One day she announced, “I, the queen, will marry the man who asks me  three riddles which I cannot answer.” Many people came from far and wide  and tried their luck, but failed. &lt;br /&gt;Finally, young Ivan, a peas­ant from the neighboring village, came up  with three rid­dles and set off for the queen’s palace. He asked the  first riddle: “I saw one good thing with another good thing in it. In  order to do good, I took the second good thing out of the first good  thing.”&lt;br /&gt;The queen did not know the answer. She made an excuse saying, “I have  a headache,” and left. Later in the night, she asked her maidservant to  coax out the answer from Ivan. The maid did as she was told. The next  day, when Ivan appeared the queen said, “Here’s the an­swer: A horse was  in a wheat field and I chased it out.”&lt;br /&gt;Ivan asked his second rid­dle “On the road I saw a bad thing. I took  up a second bad thing and hit it. So one bad thing killed another bad  thing.” The queen again did not know the answer. She sent her maid to  coax the answer out of Ivan again. When Ivan came in the morn­ing she  said, “I saw a snake on the road and killed it with a stick.” Ivan then  asked his third riddle. “How did you know the answers to the first two  riddles?”&lt;br /&gt;The queen did not want to admit that she had cheated. “I don’t know,”  she replied. Ivan married the queen and they lived happily ever after.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-5635093245192017451?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/5635093245192017451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/queen-of-riddles.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/5635093245192017451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/5635093245192017451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/queen-of-riddles.html' title='Queen of Riddles'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i_QJIAvhCqg/TyQ-ejLhdoI/AAAAAAAAAAw/nuQ-LRMbNAU/s72-c/Queen+of+Riddles.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-4508812239870306539</id><published>2012-01-28T10:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:27:49.608-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children&apos;s Stories'/><title type='text'>The Greedy Dog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X5HzOuE5TeU/TyQ-D_4oghI/AAAAAAAAAAo/U-Zk46jEArw/s1600/The+Greedy+Dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="162" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X5HzOuE5TeU/TyQ-D_4oghI/AAAAAAAAAAo/U-Zk46jEArw/s320/The+Greedy+Dog.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Once upon a time, there lived a dog. One day, he was very hungry and  went in search of food. To his delight, the dog found a juicy bone. The  dog happily carried the bone back home. He held the bone tightly in his  mouth and scowled at anyone who tried to take it away.&lt;br /&gt;On his way home, he had to cross a bridge. While crossing the bridge,  the dog saw his reflection in the water below. The foolish dog thought  there&lt;br /&gt;was another dog in the water, holding another juicy bone. The greedy  dog wanted to have that bone too. He growled and barked at his own  reflection in the water. “I’ll get that bone too,” thought the greedy  dog, and he snapped his sharp teeth and barked at his reflection in the  water.&lt;br /&gt;But alas! The moment the foolish dog opened his mouth to snap his  teeth, the piece of bone fell into the stream. The dog lost his bone and  had to go home, hungry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-4508812239870306539?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/4508812239870306539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/greedy-dog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/4508812239870306539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/4508812239870306539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/greedy-dog.html' title='The Greedy Dog'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X5HzOuE5TeU/TyQ-D_4oghI/AAAAAAAAAAo/U-Zk46jEArw/s72-c/The+Greedy+Dog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-8261962453186074522</id><published>2012-01-28T10:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:26:18.435-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children&apos;s Stories'/><title type='text'>Tom Thumb</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q5I-FxU0jec/TyQ9kg59VxI/AAAAAAAAAAg/SWqNbfeVb8g/s1600/Tom+Thumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="251" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q5I-FxU0jec/TyQ9kg59VxI/AAAAAAAAAAg/SWqNbfeVb8g/s320/Tom+Thumb.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Once, a farmer and his wife had their first child after many years of  marriage. The boy was as small as his father’s thumb. The queen of  fairies came dancing and named him Tom Thumb.&lt;br /&gt;One day, while Tom’s mother was making pudding, Tom, who was playing  nearby, slipped inside the bowl and was drowned in the batter. He  started kicking and thrashing to save himself. The move­ment in the  pudding scared his&lt;br /&gt;mother, who was unable to see Tom inside. She gave the bat­ter away  to a beggar, who later discovered little Tom inside. Tom came back from  the beg­gar’s house and told his par­ents all that had happened and his  mother felt very sorry for what she had done.&lt;br /&gt;A few days later, a raven picked up little Tom and dropped him in the  sea. A magnificent fish swallowed him. After a while, some fisher­men  caught the fish and gave it to King Arthur’s servants. When the servants  cut the fish,&lt;br /&gt;they were surprised to see Tom inside and presented him to King  Arthur. The king was delighted and kept Tom who entertained everyone  with his funny tricks. Later, Tom was knighted and became Sir Thomas  Thumb.&lt;br /&gt;One day, the queen of fairies took Tom to fairyland but by the time  he returned, King Arthur and all his knights had died. Tom stayed with  the new king in his palace and contin­ued to entertain everyone with his  tricks for a long time to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-8261962453186074522?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/8261962453186074522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/tom-thumb.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/8261962453186074522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/8261962453186074522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/tom-thumb.html' title='Tom Thumb'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q5I-FxU0jec/TyQ9kg59VxI/AAAAAAAAAAg/SWqNbfeVb8g/s72-c/Tom+Thumb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-2749146986219104317</id><published>2012-01-28T10:21:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:37:48.984-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children&apos;s Stories'/><title type='text'>The Ungrateful Master</title><content type='html'>There once lived a donkey, which was very faithful to its master.  Although it was under-fed and weak it still carried the entire load its  master put on him each day. The donkey was moving about one day, when it  fell into a big ditch where people threw garbage. The donkey couldn’t  come out. The master felt the animal was old and useless and left it to  its fate. But, the donkey thrived on the food that people threw in the  ditch.&lt;br /&gt;One morning, the master and his son were walking by, when they heard  the donkey braying. The master tired to peep into the ditch and in the  process lost his footing. He called out to his son for help, but the  stench was so bad, that the young boy left his father, telling him that  he did not want to fall in too. The master realized his mistake. A few  rag-pickers nearby, happened to hear the man’s cry for help. Soon they  pulled him out. He requested them to help him pull out the donkey too.  In no time both master and the donkey were on their way back home.&lt;br /&gt;My Prayer: Lord, let me never be an ungrateful person.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-2749146986219104317?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/2749146986219104317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/ungrateful-master.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/2749146986219104317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/2749146986219104317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/ungrateful-master.html' title='The Ungrateful Master'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6187037646039218463.post-1322564269923510845</id><published>2012-01-28T10:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T10:20:23.330-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fairy Tales'/><title type='text'>Clever Elsie</title><content type='html'>Clever Elsie was a silly girl. One day, a man called Hans came to  their house and said that he would marry Her, if she proved that she  was really smart. Elsie was sent to the cellar to fetch beer. While  filling the pitcher, she saw an axe above her.&lt;br /&gt;Clever Elsie began weeping loudly. The maid was sent to bring her  back. “Why are you weeping?” she asked Elsie. “If I marry Hans and if  our child comes to this cellar and the axe falls on my child then he  will die!” sobbed Elsie and wept more and more. Hearing her, the maid  too started weeping loudly. The same thing happened with Elsie’s  parents.&lt;br /&gt;When Hans heard everyone crying and came to enquire what had  happened, he heard the story and was convinced of Elsie’s cleverness and  married her.&lt;br /&gt;After a few days, Clever Elsie went to the field to cut corn. But soon, she felt tired and went off to sleep under a tree.&lt;br /&gt;In the evening, Hans saw her sleeping in the field. He put a fowler’s  net upon her, which had little bells attached to it. But Clever Elsie  still did not wake up.&lt;br /&gt;At night Elsie finally woke up. “Why are bells ringing?” she wondered  in alarm. “Who is this person in the net?” she thought wondering  whether it really was her. When she knocked on her door and asked if  Elsie was inside, the answer was yes. Oh, that meant she was not Elsie!  Clever Elsie ran away from the village and was never ever seen again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6187037646039218463-1322564269923510845?l=shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/feeds/1322564269923510845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/clever-elsie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/1322564269923510845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6187037646039218463/posts/default/1322564269923510845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shortstoriescollection.blogspot.com/2012/01/clever-elsie.html' title='Clever Elsie'/><author><name>tontenk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14825584011248145434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
