Tale Teller Kids™

American Indian Fairy Tales by William Trowbridge Larned Little Girl and Boy in the Clouds Book.

this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information and to find out how you can volunteer please visit librivox.org recorded by chip in tampa florida on january fourteenth two thousand six american indian fairy tales collected by henry r schoolcraft and retold by w.t larnett the little boy and girl in the clouds

iagoo the storyteller was seated one evening in his favorite corner gazing into the embers of the log fire like one in a dream at such a time the children knew better than to interrupt him by asking questions or teasing him for a story they knew that iagoo was turning over in his mind the strange things he had heard and the wonderful things he had seen that the burning logs and red coals took on curious shapes and made odd pictures that only he could understand and that if they did not disturb him he would presently begin to speak on this particular evening however though they waited patiently and talked to one another only in low whispers iagoo kept on sitting there as if he were made of stone they began to fear that he had forgotten them and that bedtime would come without a story so at last little morning glory who was always asking questions thought of one she had never asked before iagoo she said and then she stopped fearing to offend him at the sound of her voice the old man roused himself as if his mind had been away on a long journey into the past what is it morning glory iagoo can you tell me were the mountains always here the old man looked at her gravely no matter how hard the question was or how unexpected iagoo was always glad to answer he never said i'm too busy don't bother me or wait to some other time so when morning glory asked him this very peculiar question he nodded his wise old head saying do you know i've often asked myself that very thing were the mountains always here he paused and looked once more into the fire as if the answer was to be found there if only he looked long enough at last he spoke again yes i think it must be true that the mountains were always here the mountains and the hills they were made when the world was made a long long time ago and the story of how the world was made you have heard before but there is one high hill that was not always there a hill that grew like magic all of a sudden did i ever tell you the story of the big rock how it rose and rose and carried the little boy and girl up among the clouds no no shouted the children in chorus you never told us that one tell it to us now and this is the story of the magical big rock as old iagoo heard it from his grandfather who heard it from his great grandfather who was almost old enough to have been there himself when it happened in the days when all animals and men lived on friendly terms when coyote the prairie wolf was not a bad sort of fellow when you came to know him and even the mountain lion would growl pleasantly and pass you the time of day there lived in a beautiful valley a little boy and girl this valley was a lovely place to live in never was such a playground anywhere on earth it was like a great green carpet stretching up for miles and miles and when the wind blew upon the long grass it was like looking at waves of the sea flowers of all colors bloomed in the beautiful valley berries grew thick on the bushes and birds filled the summer air with their songs best of all there was nothing whatever to fear the children could wander at will watching the gay butterflies making friends with the squirrels and rabbits or following the flight of the bee to some tree where his honey is stored as for the wild animals it was all very different from what it is today when they keep the poor things in cages or coop them up in a little patch of ground behind a high fence in the beautiful valley the animals ran free and happy as they were meant to do the...

American Indian Fairy Tales by William Trowbridge Larned 2 Shin-ge-Bis Fools The North Wind.
this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information and to find out how you can volunteer please visit librivox.org recorded by chip in tampa florida on january 13 2006 american indian fairy tales collected by henry r schoolcraft and retold by w.t learned

shingibis fools the north wind long long ago in a time when only a few people lived upon the earth their dwelt in the north the tribe of fishermen now the best fish were to be found in the summer season far up in the frozen places where no one could live in the winter at all for the king of this land of ice was a fierce old man called kabanoka by the indians meaning in our language the north wind though the land of ice stretched across the top of the world for thousands and thousands of miles kabibanoka was not satisfied if he could have had his way there would have been no grass or green trees anywhere all the world would have been white from one year's end to another all the rivers frozen tight and all the country covered with snow and ice luckily there was a limit to his power strong and fierce as he was he was no match at all for shawandasi the south wind whose home was in the pleasant land of the sunflower where shawwandasi dwelt it was always summer when he breathed upon the land violets appeared in the woods the wild rose bloomed on the yellow prairie and the cooing dove called musically to its mate it was he who caused the melons to grow and the purple grapes it was he whose warm breath ripened the corn in the fields clothed the forests in green and made all the earth glad and beautiful then as the summer days grew shorter in the north shawandasi would climb to the top of the hill fill his great pipe and sit there dreaming and smoking hour after hour he sat and smoked and the smoke rising in the form of the vapor filled the air with the soft haze until the hills and lakes seemed like the hills and lakes of dreamland not a breath of wind not a cloud in the sky a great peace and stillness overall nowhere else in the world was there anything so wonderful it was indian summer now it was that the fishermen who set their nets in the north worked hard and fast knowing the time was at hand when the south wind would fall asleep and fierce old cabinoka would swoop down upon them and drive them away sure enough one morning a thin film of ice covered the water where they set their nets a heavy frost sparkled in the sun on the bark roof of their huts that was sufficient warning the ice grew thicker the snow fell in big feathery flakes coyote the prairie wolf trotted by in his shaggy white winter coat already they could hear the muttering and moaning in the distance kapibanoka is coming cried the fisherman khabib noka will soon be here it's time for us to go but shingibis the diver only laughed shingibis was always laughing he laughed when he caught a big fish and he laughed when he caught none at all nothing could dampen his spirits the fishing is still good he said to his comrades i can cut a hole in the ice and fish with a line instead of a net what do i care for old kabibanoka they looked at him in amazement it was true that shingibis had certain magic powers and could change himself into a duck they had seen him do it and that is why he came to be called the diver but how would this enable him to brave the anger of the terrible north wind you would better come with us they said kabanoka is much stronger than you the biggest trees of the forest bend before his wrath the swiftest river that runs freezes at his touch unless you can turn yourself into a bear or a fish you have no chance at all perching abyss only laughed the louder my fur coat lent me by brother beaver and my mittens borrowed from cousin muskrat will protect me in the daytime he said and inside my wigwam is a pile of big logs let kebanoka come in by my fire...

American Indian Fairy Tales by William Trowbridge Larned 1 'Child of the Evening Star' Free Kids' Books.
this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information and to find out how you can volunteer please visit librivox.org recorded by chip in tampa florida on january 13 2006 american indian fairy tales collected by henry r schoolcraft and retold by w.t learned iago the storyteller

there never was anyone so wise and knowing as old iagu there never was an indian who saw and heard so much he knew the secrets of the woods and the fields and understood the language of birds and beasts all his life long he had lived out of doors wandering far in the forest where the wild deer hide doors skimming the waters of the lake in his birchbark canoe besides the things he had learned for himself iagoo knew much more he knew the fairy tales and the wonder stories told him by his grandfather who had heard them from his grandfather and so on away back to the time when the world was young and strange and there was magic in almost everything iagoo was a great favorite with the children no one knew better where to find the beautiful colored shells which he strung into necklaces for the little girls no one could teach them so well just where to look for the grasses which their nimble fingers wove into baskets for the boys he made bows and arrows bows from the ash tree that would bend far back without breaking and arrows strong and straight from the sturdy oak but most of all iagoo won the children's hearts with his stories where did the robin get his red breast how did fire find its way into the world so that an indian can get it out by rubbing two sticks together why was coyote the prairie wolf so much cleverer than all the other animals and why was he always looking behind him when he ran it was old iagoo who could tell you where and why now winter was the time for storytelling when the snow lay deep on the ground the north wind came howling from his home in the land of ice and the cold moon shone from the frosty sky it was then that the indians gathered in the wigwam it was then that iagoo sat by the fire of blazing logs and the little boys and girls gathered around him

wailed the north wind the sparks lept up and iagoo laid another log on the fire

what a mischievous old fellow was this north wind one could almost see him his flowing hair all hung with icicles if the wigwam were not so strong he would blow it down and if the fire were not so bright he would put it out but this wigwam was made on purpose for just such a time as this and the forest nearby had logs to last forever so the north wind could only gnash his teeth and say

one little girl more timid than the rest would draw nearer and put her hand on the old man's arm oh iagoo she said just listen do you think he can hurt us have no fear answered iago the north wind can do no harm to anyone who is brave and cheerful he blusters and makes a lot of noise but at heart he is really a big coward and the fire will soon frighten him away suppose i tell you a story about it and the story iagoo told we shall now tell to you the story of how shingibis fooled the north wind

so ends iagu the storyteller

you

The Best Nonsense Verses by Josephine Daskam Bacon Psychopathic Fox Free Kids' Audiobook.
the sycophantic fox and the gullible raven by guy wetmore carroll from the best nonsense verses chosen by josephine dodge dascum this librivox recording is in the public domain

a raven sat upon a tree and not a word he spoke for his peak contained a bit of free or maybe it was rocafort we'll make it any kind you please at all events it was a beneath the tree's outrageous limb a hungry fox sat smiling he saw the raven watching him and spoke in words beguiling sadamir he said tobo plumage the witch was simply perciflage two things there are no doubt you know to which a fox is used a rooster that is bound to crow a crow that's bound to roost and whichsoever he aspires he tells the most unblushing lies sweet fowl he said i understand you're more than merely natty i hear you sing to beat the band and adelina patty pre-render with your liquid tongue a bit from gurdamarung this subtle speech was aimed to please the crow and it succeeded he thought no burden all the trees could sing as well as he did and flattery completely doused he gave the jewel song from faust but gravitation's law of course as isaac newton showed it exerted on the cheese its force and elsewhere soon bestowed it in fact there is no need to tell what happened when to earth it fell i wish to add that when the bird took in the situation he said one brief emphatic word unfit for publication the fox was greatly startled but he only sighed and answered tut the moral is a fox is bound to be a shameless sinner and also when the cheese comes round you know it's after dinner but what is only known to few the fox is after dinner too end of the sycophantic fox and the gullible raven by guy wetmore carroll recording by grace buchanan of weavergrace.com

Freaks on the Fells: Three Months' Rustication, Story 1 by R. M. Ballantyne 3 Free Audiobook Kids.
chapter three of freaks on the fells three months rustication story one by r m ballantine this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit librivox.org recording by diana schmidt chapter 3 first impressions next morning the sudburys were awakened to a sense of the peculiar circumstances into which they had plunged by the lowing of cattle the crowing of [ __ ] and the furious barking of kali dogs as the whole household of donald mcallister commenced the labors of a new day of course every member of the sudbury family with the exception of mama rushed to his or her respective window oh how beautiful gushed from the heart and lips of lucy as she gazed in wonder through the casement and a shriek burst from jackie as he stared in wild delight upon the gorgeous scene that met his view we have said that the white house was embedded among the blue hills it was an old and extremely simple building having an oblong front two sides and a back two stories six windows and one door which last imbued apparently with a dislike to being shut was always open the house appeared to have an insatiable thirst for mountain air and it was well supplied with this fresh and exhilarating beverage for it stood in an elevated position on the slope of a mountain and overlooked a wide tract of flood and fell on which latter there was little wood but a luxuriant carpet of grass and heather the weather had evidently resolved to make amends for its surly reception of the strangers the previous evening by greeting them with one of its sweetest highland smiles in the morning when mr sudbury in the exuberance of his delight ran without hat or coat to a neighboring knoll accompanied by all his children the scene that met his eye was one of surpassing grandeur and beauty the mists of early morning were rolling up from the lock in white fleecy clouds which floated over and partly concealed the sides of the mountains the upper wreaths of these clouds and the crags and peaks that pierced through them were set on fire by the rising sun great fissures and gorges in the hills which at other times lay concealed in the blue haze of distance were revealed by the mists and the slanting rays of the sun and the incumbent cliffs bluff promotories and capes were in some places sharply defined in others luminously softened so that the mountains displayed at once that appearance of solid reality mingled with melting mystery which is seen at no period of the day but early morning the whole scene water earth and sky was so involved that no lines of demarcation could be traced anywhere only bold startling points melting into blue and white masses that mingled with each other in golden and pearly grays of every conceivable variety having said thus much we need scarcely add that the scene cannot be adequately described a light fragrant air met the stout englishman as he crested the hill and filled his unaccustomed nostrils with sensations that could not have been excelled had he been greeted by one of afric's spicy gales the same heir with telegraphic speed conveyed to the collie dogs of the place the information that the sudburys were abroad whereupon the whole pac-9 in number bounded open mouth up the hill with noise and ferocity enough to have alarmed the bravest of the brave no wonder then that poor jackie rushed into his father's knees being too small to run into his arms but these seemingly ferocious dogs were in reality the gentlest and meekest of animals down top or down down lively lass come in to heal sweeney cried donald mcallister as he approached his tenants good morning miss morning gentlemen the ben has on its night cap but i'm thinking it'll soon take it off donald mcallister's english was excellent but he spoke in a slow deliberate manner with a slightly nasal drawl which sounded very...

Grace Harlowe's Overland Riders on the Old Apache Trail 2 by Jessie Graham Flower Free Audiobook.
chapter 2 of grace harlow's overland riders on the old apache trail by jesse graham flower this librivox recording is in the public domain recording by ashley jane chapter 2 on the overland coach oh girls i've made a perfectly marvelous discovery cried grace harlow as she burst into the parlor of the hotel at globe arizona on the morning following their arrival from the east which means what's your step overton unit reminded alfreda briggs what is the nature of your discovery a long lost brother or something of that sort my discovery is a genuine old deadwood stagecoach grace informed her companions alfreda regarded her narrowly our flying lieutenant hippie wingate is examining it now to see if it is really fit for use continued grace with no abatement of her enthusiasm a deadwood stagecoach wondered emma dean that is the kind of coach they used in the old stagecoach days of the early west alfreda briegs explained a the kind that the bandits used to hold up and rob the passengers that husband of mine used to read all about it when he was a youngster he declares that had the war not come along when it did he might have been a bandit himself asserted nora wingate what does he want to look over that old stagecoach for she demanded suspiciously hippie is thinking of taking a ride in it smiled grace listen to me girls i will tell you what tippy and i have to suggest it is about time muttered alfreda the suggestion is resumed grace that we girls take a trip in the deadwood coach say out as far as the apache lodge on the trail there is no reason why we should not at least make a night drive say up to about midnight go into camp for a few hours sleep and then drive back to globe in the early morning should we like the coaching well enough we can go on and do the entire 120 miles of the old apache trail in that way this is all very well but what about the ponies that the lieutenant has hired for the ride over the trail questioned anne we can have the ponies led through to phoenix and ride them back camping along the way back for the rest of our vacation replied grace hippie will arrange that matter and make a deal with the stagecoach owner after he has carefully locked the old wagon over to make certain that it will go through the trip without falling apart you think it will be a perfectly safe thing to do do you grace questioned alfreda briggs yes if the stagecoach holds together answered grace smilingly if muttered j alfreda under her breath but grace suppose a band of bad men hold us up and rob us urged emma apprehensively no danger whatever my dear those days have passed in the great west as have the savage apaches of olden time though the trip will take us over the ground on which they fought many fierce battles ah here comes hippie now how about it lieutenant all set brown eyes the owner of the stagecoach says he has a new set of wheels that he will put on as the old ones would not stand up under the load we shall have otherwise the old rattler is good for many a journey over the trail i think the owner got a good idea from us and that he will make the deadwood stagecoach trip a regular attraction for tourists what do you say girls grace is the one to say a verd alfreda on our journey out here you will remember that we decided she should be our captain i may have my doubts about the advisability of the proposed coaching trip but i will agree to it with a certain mental reservation a laws let's go have you seen the owner of the ponies asked grace turning to lieutenant wingate hippie nodded he doesn't care what we do so long as he gets his money when will the stagecoach be ready questioned grace within an hour if you decide to make the trip that is all very well so far as it goes observe nora wingate what i wish to ask is how are we going to sleep and eat we shall take with us 24 hours rations and a small tent which can be...

Dave Dashaway, the Young Aviator by Roy Rockwood 3 Free Teens Aviation Adventure Book.
chapter 3 of dave dashaway the young aviator by roy rockwood this librivox recording is in the public domain chapter 3 breaking away dave dashaway was almost speechless his tyrant master had struck him in a tender spot indeed not that dave had ever been foolish enough to build extravagant hopes on his model it had all been guesswork and an experiment however his soul had been wrapped up in his labor he had been proud and pleased with his progress as an inventor and that mean vengeful act of an old man roused him up terribly what busted that wagon demanded mr warner grasping dave's arm till the pain was unbearable dave jerked loose and panting an angry face confronted his guardian with a look that made the old man hesitate his lip trembled but he held his speech as steady as he could and he replied dobbin got scared and ran into a ditch with your star gazing after those airships i'll warrant this was so near the truth that dave did not reply what do you suppose will pay for that damage to that wagon demanded warner i suppose my hard work will bluntly replied dave your hard work it looks as if you was worked hard fritting half the afternoon away spending hours and hours on that worthless piece of trumpery up in the barn loft i've settled for good and all now you put up that horse get your supper and get to your room you darren leave it until i say so and i'll just call the sheriff up here again and see what he says about affairs this was an old-time threat of his guardian it was so worn and so threadbare that dave did not pay much attention to it he proceeded silently about his task unhitched dauben led him to his stall and made him comfortable for the night with feed and bedding as dave came out into the yard again he made a speedy run for the wagon his guardian had been poking about the vehicle and had discovered the sweater roll this he now held turning it over and over in his hand and viewing it curiously here shouted dave that's mine oh is it snapped the old man holding the bundle out of dave's reach what is it i'm going to see well i don't mean it belongs to me dave corrected himself but i found it what is it it fell out of an airship it lighted on dobbin's back and that's what made him run away fell from an airship repeated old warner with a sniff of disbelief romancing eh no i am not i'm telling you the truth persisted dave hello hello here what's this mr warner had opened the sweater his miserly old eyes fairly gloated over the pocketbook and its contents his thin cruel lips moved as if he was smacking them over a meal you found this you say he inquired yes i did responded dave bruscley none too well pleased with the way things have turned out well finders keepers chuckled the old man with a cunning laugh nobody is going to have that pocketbook but the owner said dave staunchly i'll arrange about that you young insolent retorted mr warner you will have to in the right way too asserted dave who was quite nettled a what's that shouted the old man uh just what i said you will look at that medal in that pocketbook and you will find the owner's name on it it is robert king all you've got to do is send his property back to him i happen to know that he is at fairfield now and a letter directed there would reach him say blurt out old warner i know what to do i guess about my own business this is my business too insisted dave i found that property and i'm honest enough to want to get it back to the man who lost it you can get into that house as quick as you can and mind your own business and keep your mouth shut or make it pretty interesting for you bald the old man dave closed his lips tightly he had gone through a pretty trying ordeal it had made him almost desperate it had come so thick and fast one indignity after another that dave had not found time to break down his just wrath over the destruction of the model was lessened by...

The Flying Stingaree by Harold L. Goodwin 3 Adventure Book Teens Mystery Free Audiobook.
chapter three of the flying stingaree by harold goodwin this librivox recording is in the public domain reading by michael roy chapter three orville harris crabber rick brown owed to the sound of a motor for a moment he lay quietly in his bunk listening the sun through the cabin windows told him it was early in the morning the sunlight still had the red quality of early sunrise he watched the light shift as the house swung on its anchor by the time the storm last night had ended darkness had set in and it was only sensible to turn on the anchor light and remain at the swamp creek cove for the night in spite of his unsettling experience rick and scotty had not been deeply disturbed neither he nor scottie believed in flying saucers at least not in saucers that kidnapped people and the object rick had seen had not been saucer-like it had been shaped like a stingaree stingers don't fly rick smiled to himself during another vacation skin diving in the virgin islands he and scotty had proved that octopuses don't wail but if stingers don't fly he asked himself what looks like a sticker ray and does fly he realized suddenly that the sound of the motor was louder once again someone investigating the houseboat he swung out of bed the cool air of mourning was in sharp contrast to the warmth of his sleeping bag quickly he slipped into shorts and sweatshirt as he opened the cabin door he heard the slap of bare feet on the deck behind him and turned to see scotty regain his balance after dropping from the upper bunk go ahead scotty called be right with you okay rick stepped out into the cockpit and glanced around it was a lovely morning the ever-present birds of the chesapeake area were already active a huge blue heron stepped deadly in the shallows like a stilt walker afraid of falling over the heron was looking for small fish or anything that moved and was edible an osprey the great fish hawk of the bay region swooped overhead on lazy wings sharp eyes alert for a small fish near the water's surface in the pine woods behind the shore marsh a blue jay called its voice like a squeaky hinge the motor sound was distant now and the shore upstream blocked rick's view then as he watched a long low white motorboat came into sight its bow was vertical its sides load there was no cabin a mint ships was a single man clad in overalls and a denim shirt the man was surrounded by bushel baskets and he held a long-handled crab net made of chicken wire rig washed with interest on one side of the boat was a roller that extended out over the water a heavy cord came out of the water crossed the roller and dipped back into the water again every few feet there was a chunk of something on the cord apparently bait as rick watched a piece of bait came up with a crab clinging to it the neck swooped and the crowd was caught pulled inboard and dumped into a bushel basket with one fluid motion the crabber never took his eyes from the cord the boat continued on a straight line scotty came out on deck and joined rick the boys watched in silence while the man caught a dozen crabs then picked one from the bait and flipped it into the water too small i guess rick commented must be where does the line go rick pointed a gallon oil can painted blue and white bob gently in the creek that's where he's heading the crapper approached the can then flipped the line off the roller using a lever next to him he turned the boat and headed toward another can some distance away a quick pull with a boat hook and the line attached to the can was placed over the roller crabs appeared holding on to the bait as the boat moved along a quick pull with a boat hook and the line attached to the can was placed over the roller crabs appeared holding onto the bait as the boat moved along the new line rick counted the crabber was getting about one crab for every three baits scotty leaned over the cockpit...

J.S. Bach, Volume 1 by Albert Schweitzer 3 Biography Famous Musician Free Audiobook.
chapter 3 of j.s bach by albert schweitzer translated by ernest newman this librivox recording is in the public domain read for you by chiquito crosto music performed by jonathan schofield the origin of the melodies of the chorales luther acted with regard to the melodies on the same principles as he had done with regard to the text he took whatever old melody suited his purpose and improved it only the improvement was often more drastic in the case of the tune than in that of the words for it was his first care to see that the melodies were singable and easily grasped in 1524 the crucial year for german church music conrad roof and johann walter two eminent musicians were for three weeks luther's guests acting as his house presentary kantorai im house costlin who in his essay on luther al's father their evangelisan kershan geshangas depicts the trio at their work while walter and roof sat at the table bending over the music sheets with pen in hand father luther walked up and down the room trying on the five the tunes that poured from his memory and his imagination to ally themselves with the poems he had discovered until he had made the worst melody a rhythmically finished well-rounded strong and compact hole thus the sacred songs of the middle ages preserved their own melodies and the latin hymns were translated in such a way that the new words fitted the old melodies just as in the enchiridion of 1524 often indeed the poem was so constructed as to fit the tone of some sacred song that was already well known since we rarely know the history of a melody before it became attached to a hymn the name of which it henceforth bears it is difficult to decide which melodies were adopted and which composed by the musicians of the reformation in any case we must not underestimate the number of the latter johan walter in particular seems to have employed a rich inventive gift in the service of religion to what extent luther himself was a composer of melodies cannot be determined contemporary testimonies on the strength of which a number of tunes are attributed to him are much too vague to prove anything positively the melody of ein fester berg that may with certainty be attributed to him is woven out of gregorian reminiscences the recognition of this fact deprives the melody of none of its beauty and luther of none of the credit for it it really takes considerable talent to create an organic unity out of fragments in his melody to the german gloria allen got in there nikolaos desu openly makes use of the etintera parks from the gloria pascalis there was nothing strange in this to the men who had been brought up in the singing schools of the catholic church it would indeed be surprising if they had thought it so we may recall the fact that the medieval hymn in its turn derives from the gregorian use nicolaus hermann cantor of joachim style in bohemia who was both poet and musician wrote some very good choral melodies to him we owe loved god ear christian and east der errick tag on the whole the number of musicians who wrote melodies for the church was not large not because at that time there were no musicians capable of the work but rather because their services were not called for for a new melody to become a true folk melody of the kind that would gain immediate acceptance everywhere was a difficult process requiring a long period of time it was much more natural to impress existing melodies into the service of the church sacred melodies at first and then when these did not suffice secular ones the reformed church made the most abundant use of this latter source among the church tunes there are a few indigenous melodies as there are among those of the people all have had an external origin the learned august giveth had expressed the opinion that the oldest catholic church music was transplanted into the church from the pagan streets for the...

War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells 1:4 Free Classic Novels Audiobooks Public Domain Fiction.
this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit librivox.org

war of the worlds by h.g wells book 1 chapter 4 the cylinder opens

when i returned to the common the sun was setting scattered groups were hurrying from the direction of woking and one or two persons were returning the crowd about the pit had increased and stood out black against the lemon yellow of the sky a couple of hundred people perhaps there were raised voices and some sort of a struggle appeared to be going on about the pit strange imaginings passed through my mind as i drew nearer i heard stent's voice keep back keep back a boy came running towards me it's moving he said to me as he passed a screwing and a screwing out i don't like it i'm going home i am i went on to the crowd there were really i should think two or three hundred people elbowing and jostling one another the one or two ladies there being by no means the least active he's fallen in the pit cried someone keep back said several the crowd swayed a little and i elbowed my way through everyone seemed greatly excited i heard a peculiar humming sound from the pit i say said ogilvy help keep these idiots back we don't know what's in the compounded thing you know i saw a young man a shop assistant in woking i believe he was standing on the cylinder and trying to scramble out of the hole again the crowd had pushed him in the end of the cylinder was being screwed out from me thin nearly two feet of the shining screw projected somebody blunted against me and i narrowly missed being pitched on top of the screw i turned and as i did so the screw must have come out for the lid of the cylinder fell onto the gravel with a ringing concussion i struck my elbow into the person behind me and turned my head towards the thing again for a moment that circular cavity seemed perfectly black i had the sunset in my eyes i think everyone expected to see a man emerge possibly something a little unlike a terrestrial man but in all essentials a man i know i did but looking i presently saw something stirring within the shadow grayish billowy movements one above another and then two luminous discs like eyes then something resembling a little grey snake about the thickness of a walking stick coiled up and out of the writhing middle and wriggled in the air towards me and then another a sudden chill came over me there was a loud shriek from a woman behind i half turned keeping my eyes fixed upon the cylinder still from which other tentacles were now projecting and began pushing my way back from the edge of the pit i saw astonishment giving place to horror on the faces of the people about me i heard inarticulate exclamations on all side there was a general movement backwards i saw the shot man struggling still on the edge of the pit i found myself alone and saw the people on the other side of the pit running off stent among them i looked again at the cylinder and ungovernable terror gripped me i stood petrified and staring a big grayish rounded bulk the size perhaps of a bear was rising slowly and painfully out of the cylinder as it bulged up and caught the light it glistened like wet leather two large dark colored eyes were regarding me steadfastly the mass that framed them the head of the thing was rounded and had one might say a face there was a mouth under the eyes the lipless brim of which quivered and panted and dropped saliva the whole creature heaved and pulsated convulsively a lank tentacular appendage gripped the edge of the cylinder another swayed in the air those who have never seen a living martian can scarcely imagine the strange horror of its appearance the peculiar v-shaped mouth with its pointed upper lip the absence of brow ridges the absence of a chin beneath the wedge-like lower lip the incessant quivering of this...