Thursday, April 18, 2013

Fourth Grade Illustrations

Excerpt from 

"The Girl Who Trod on a Loaf" 

Anderson's Fairytales, Illustrations by 3rd Graders

. . . . "You really ought to go and visit your old parents, little Inger," said her mistress. "Here's a large loaf of wheaten bread to take them. They'll be pleased to see you."

So Inger put on her best dress and her fine new shoes and lifted up her skirts and walked very carefully, so that her shoes would stay clean and neat. Now no one could blame her for this. But when she came to where the path crossed over marshy ground, a great part of it was wet and muddy and she threw the loaf into the mud to use as a steppingstone to get across with dry shoes. 

But as she stood with one foot on the loaf and was getting ready to take the next step, the loaf sank deeper and deeper, carrying her down until she disappeared entirely, and nothing could be seen but a black, bubbling pool! Now this is the story.

But what had become of her? She went down to the Marsh Wife, who has a brewery down there . . . Little Inger sank into this brewery, and no one could stand being there long. A scavenger's cart is sweet compared to the Marsh Wife's brewery . . .
The Marsh Wife was at home. Old Bogey and his great-grandmother were visiting her that day. The great-grandmoter is a very venomous old woman . . .

When she saw Inger, she put up her eyeglass and looked at her and said, "That girl has got something in her. I should like to have her as a remembrance of  my visit. She will make a very nice statue in my great-grandson's outer corridor." So Inger was given to her.

This is how little Inger got to Bogeyland.  People don't always get there by such a direct route; although it's easy enough to get there in more roundabout ways . . . . 

I really like reading this story to the kids. It's too long to post the whole thing here, but it teaches humility, penitence and repentance, all while being really fun and imaginative and beautiful. (I was told that the great -grandmother above was inspired by Nanny McPhee.)