Twister Audio

Natasha introduces our latest podcast, Twister

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Read by Natasha. Duration 19.50 (new recording)

There was once upon a time a poor widow who had an only son named Jack, and a cow named Milky-White. And all they had to live on was the milk the cow gave every morning, which they carried to the market and sold. But one morning Milky-White gave no milk.

“What shall we do, what shall we do?” said the widow, wringing her hands.

“Cheer up, mother, I'll go and get work somewhere,” said Jack.

“We've tried that before, and nobody would take you,” said his mother. “We must sell Milky-White and with the money start a shop, or something.”

“All right, mother,” says Jack. “It's market day today, and I'll soon sell Milky-White, and then we'll see what we can do.”

So he took the cow, and off he started. He hadn't gone far when he met a funny-looking old man, who said to him, “Good morning, Jack.”

“Good morning to you,” said Jack, and wondered how he knew his name.

“Well, Jack, and where are you off to?” said the man.

“I'm going to market to sell our cow there.”

“Oh, you look the proper sort of chap to sell cows,” said the man. “I wonder if you know how many beans make five.”

“Two in each hand and one in your mouth,” says Jack, as sharp as a needle.

“Right you are,” says the man, “and here they are, the very beans themselves,” he went on, pulling out of his pocket a number of strange-looking beans. “As you are so sharp,” says he, “I don't mind doing a swap with you — your cow for these beans.”

“Go along,” says Jack. “You take me for a fool!”

“Ah! You don't know what these beans are,” said the man. “If you plant them overnight, by morning they grow right up to the sky.”

“Really?” said Jack. “You don't say so.”

“Yes, that is so. And if it doesn't turn out to be true you can have your cow back.”

“Right,” says Jack, and hands him over Milky-White and pockets the beans.

Back home goes Jack and says to his mother:

“You'll never guess mother what I got for Milky-White.”

And his mother became very excited:

“Five pounds? Ten? Fifteen? No, it can't be twenty.”

“I told you you couldn't guess. What do you say to these beans? They're magical. Plant them overnight and — ”

“What!” says Jack's mother. “Have you been such a fool, such a dolt, such an idiot? Take that! Take that! Take that! And as for your precious beans here they go out of the window. And now off with you to bed. Not a sup shall you drink, and not a bit shall you swallow this very night.”

So Jack went upstairs to his little room in the attic, and sad and sorry he was, to be sure.

At last he dropped off to sleep.

When he woke up, the room looked so funny. The sun was shining into part of it, and yet all the rest was quite dark and shady. So Jack jumped up and went to the window. And what do you think he saw? Why, the beans his mother had thrown out of the window into the garden had sprung up into a giant beanstalk which went up and up and up till it reached the sky. So the man spoke truth after all.

The beanstalk grew up quite close past Jack's window, so all he had to do was to open it and give a jump onto the beanstalk which ran up just like a big ladder. So Jack climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed till at last he reached the sky. And when he got there he found a long broad road going as straight as a dart. So he walked along, and he walked along, and he walked along till he came to a great big tall house, and on the doorstep there was a great big tall woman.

“Good morning, ma'am,” says Jack, quite polite-like. “Could you be so kind as to give mesome breakfast?” For he was as hungry as a hunter.

“It's breakfast you want, is it?” says the great big tall woman. “It's breakfast you'll be if you don't move off from here. My man is an ogre and there's nothing he likes better than boys broiled on toast. You'd better be moving on or he'll be coming.”

“Oh! please, mum, do give me something to eat, mum. I've had nothing to eat since yesterday morning, really and truly, mum,” says Jack. “I may as well be broiled as die of hunger.”

Well, the ogre's wife was not half so bad after all. So she took Jack into the kitchen, and gave him a hunk of bread and cheese and a jug of milk. But Jack hadn't half finished these when thump! thump! thump! the whole house began to tremble with the noise of someone coming.

“Goodness gracious me! It's my old man,” said the ogre's wife. “What on earth shall I do? Come along quick and jump in here.” And she bundled Jack into the oven just as the ogre came in.

He was a big one, to be sure. At his belt he had three calves strung up by the heels, and he unhooked them and threw them down on the table and said:

Fee-fi-fo-fum,
I smell the blood of an Englishman,
Be he alive, or be he dead,
I'll have his bones to grind my bread.”

“Nonsense, dear,” said his wife. “You' re dreaming. Or perhaps you smell the scraps of that little boy you liked so much for yesterday's dinner. Here, you go and have a wash and tidy up, and by the time you come back your breakfast'll be ready for you.”

So off the ogre went, and Jack was just going to jump out of the oven and run away when the woman told him: “Wait till he's asleep. He always has a doze after breakfast.”

Well, the ogre had his breakfast, and after that he goes to a big chest and takes out a couple of bags of gold, and down he sits and counts till at last his head began to nod and he began to snore till the whole house shook again.

Then Jack crept out on tiptoe from his oven, and as he was passing the ogre, he took one of the bags of gold under his arm, and off he pelters till he came to the beanstalk, and then he threw down the bag of gold, which, of course, fell into his mother's garden, and then he climbed down and climbed down till at last he got home and told his mother and showed her the gold and said, “Well, mother, wasn't I right about the beans? They are really magical, you see.”

So they lived on the bag of gold for some time, but at last they came to the end of it, and Jack made up his mind to try his luck once more at the top of the beanstalk. So one fine morning he rose up early, and got onto the beanstalk, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed till at last he came out onto the road again and up to the great tall house he had been to before. There, sure enough, was the great tall woman a-standing on the doorstep.

“Good morning, mum,” says Jack, as bold as brass, “could you be so good as to give me something to eat?”

“Go away, my boy,” said the big tall woman, “or else my man will eat you up for breakfast. But aren't you the youngster who came here once before? Do you know, that very day my man missed one of his bags of gold.”

“That's strange, mum,” said Jack, “I dare say I could tell you something about that, but I'm so hungry I can't speak till I've had something to eat.”

Well, the big tall woman was so curious that she took him in and gave him something to eat. But he had scarcely begun munching it as slowly as he could when thump! thump! they heard the giant's footstep, and his wife hid Jack away in the oven.

All happened as it did before. In came the ogre as he did before, said, “Fee-fi-fo-fum,” and had his breakfast off three broiled oxen.

Then he said, “Wife, the hen that lays the golden eggs.” So she brought it, and the ogre said, “Lay,” and it laid an egg all of gold. And then the ogre began to nod his head, and to snore till the house shook.

Then Jack crept out of the oven on tiptoe and caught hold of the golden hen, and was off before you could say “Jack Robinson.” But this time the hen gave a cackle which woke the ogre, and just as Jack got out of the house he heard him calling, “Wife, wife, what have you done with my golden hen?”

And the wife said, “Why, my dear?”

But that was all Jack heard, for he rushed off to the beanstalk and climbed down like a house on fire. And when he got home he showed his mother the wonderful hen, and said “Lay” to it; and it laid a golden egg every time he said “Lay.”

Well it wasn't long before Jack made up his mind to have another try at his luck up there at the top of the beanstalk. So one fine morning he rose up early and got to the beanstalk, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed till he got to the top.

But this time he knew better than to go straight to the ogre's house. And when he got near it, he waited behind a bush till he saw the ogre's wife come out with a pail to get some water, and then he crept into the house and got into a big copper pot. He hadn't been there long when he heard thump! thump! thump! as before, and in came the ogre and his wife.

“Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman,” cried out the ogre. “I smell him, wife, I smell him.”

“Do you, my dearie?” says the ogre's wife. “Then, if it's that little rogue that stole your gold and the hen that laid the golden eggs he's sure to have got into the oven.” And they both rushed to the oven.

But Jack wasn't there, luckily.

So the ogre sat down to the breakfast and ate it, but every now and then he would mutter, “Well, I could have sworn –” and he'd get up and search the larder and the cupboards and everything, only, luckily, he didn't think of the copper pot.

After breakfast was over, the ogre called out, “Wife, wife, bring me my golden harp.”

So she brought it and put it on the table before him. Then he said, “Sing!” and the golden harp sang most beautifully. And it went on singing till the ogre fell asleep, and commenced to snore like thunder.

Then Jack lifted up the copper lid very quietly and got down like a mouse and crept on hands and knees till he came to the table, when up he crawled, caught hold of the golden harp and dashed with it towards the door.

But the harp called out quite loud, “Master! Master!” and the ogre woke up just in time to see Jack running off with his harp.

Jack ran as fast as he could, and the ogre came rushing after, and would soon have caught him, only Jack had a start and dodged him a bit and knew where he was going. When he got to the beanstalk the ogre was not more than twenty yards away when suddenly he saw Jack disappear. And when he came to the end of the road he saw Jack underneath climbing down for dear life. Well, the ogre didn't like trusting himself to such a ladder, and he stood and waited, so Jack got another start.

But just then the harp cried out, “Master! Master!” and the ogre swung himself down onto the beanstalk, which shook with his weight. Down climbs Jack, and after him climbed the ogre.

By this time Jack had climbed down and climbed down and climbed down till he was very nearly home. So he called out, “Mother! Mother! bring me an ax, bring me an ax.” And his mother came rushing out with the ax in her hand, but when she came to the beanstalk she stood stock still with fright, for there she saw the ogre with his legs just through the clouds.

But Jack jumped down and got hold of the ax and gave a chop at the beanstalk which cut it half in two. The ogre felt the beanstalk shake and quiver, so he stopped to see what was the matter. Then Jack gave another chop with the ax, and the beanstalk was cut in two and began to topple over. Then the ogre fell down and broke his crown, and the beanstalk came toppling after.

Then Jack showed his mother his golden harp, and what with showing that and selling the golden eggs, Jack and his mother became very rich, and he married a great princess, and they lived happy ever after.

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Robin Hood liked to invite guests to dine with him at his table in Sherwood Forrest. If his guests were rich and powerful he would ask them to pay for their dinner with gold or jewels. But if they were poor or down on their luck, he would help them out with money from his own coffers. In this story, I’ll tell you how Robin entertained the Sheriff of Nottingham – and he was very rich and powerful indeed.

Robin Hood’s most trusted outlaw was Little John. In fact, there was nothing little about him at all. He was huge. And if there was one thing that he really loved it was his food. In particular, he liked to eat venison – which is the meat of deer. There were plenty of deer in Sherwood Forrest, but it was forbidden to shoot them by punishment of death. The law didn’t stop Little John, because he feared nothing or nobody.

Sometimes he would arrive at Robin Hood’s layer with a bag full of hares, partridges, and pheasants and he would say to Robin:

“Come on my friend, let’s get a good fire going. I’ll soon have these ready for roasting and what a fine dinner we shall have.”

But quite often Robin would make Little John wait for his dinner until a rich and respectable guest had come to join them. And at those times, when Little John was hungry, he would become very tetchy and bad tempered indeed. All the other robbers who lived with Robin Hood would stay out of his way, because nobody wanted to get into a fight with a man as big and strong as Little John.

One day, Robin asked Little John to go into the city of Nottingham to see if he could pick up any news or gossip. It so happened, that on that same day there was shooting competition in the market place. Little John could not resist a chance to show of his skill with his bow and arrow, and he paid the fee of one penny to join the contest.

Each archer had to shoot an arrow into a post. Those who missed dropped out, and those that hit went on to the next round when the posts were moved further back. Little John split six posts down the middle with his arrows. Nobody else could match him.

The Sheriff of Nottingham gave him the first prize and declared:

“This man is the best archer that I ever did see. Say now, my hearty young man, what is your name and where were you born?”

“I was born in Yorkshire,” replied Little John. “And my name is Reynold Grenelef.

“Well then, Reynold Grenelef,” said the Sheriff, “Come and work for me. I will pay you 20 marks a year and give you food and shelter.”

If he had known who Little John really was, he would have taken him not to his house, but to his gaol, for the Sheriff was the law around those parts, and the law had no greater enemies than Robin Hood and Little John.

At first Little John tried to think of a cheeky reply to the Sheriff’s offer, and then he thought to himself.

“So help me. I shall be the worst servant he ever had.”

And he said out loud: “I thank your Lordship. I shall come to your house this evening and start my service for you. I promise that you will never had another servant the like of Reynold Grenelef.”

That evening, Little John settled into his new home in the servant’s quarters in the mansion belonging to the Sherriff of Nottingham. He had not eaten all day, and so he called out to the steward who was in charge of the dining hall:

“Good Steward I pray, when will dinner be?”

To which the Steward replied:

“There will be no dinner for you till the master gets back.”

“And when will that be?” asked Little John.

“Not till next week, for he’s gone hunting with the Abbot.”

At this, Little John picked up the steward and began to shake him:

“What? A whole week without food? That will be the worse for my temper, and your head, for I swear I’ll take a crowbar and beat you with it.”

The butler heard the row, and came to give the new servant a clout round the ears, but when I saw the size of Little John, he held back. Little John pushed past him and kicked door open.

Inside the kitchen he found a keg of wine, which he cracked open and began to guzzle from. Then he seized a leg of lamb out of the pantry, and started to tear chunks of meat off it with his teeth.

The cook had not seen Little John before, and was amazed that a stranger should dare to burst into his kitchen and help himself to food and drink. He came up to Little John and gave him three good punches in the belly:

“Little John looked up and said:

“Give me more of those. I liked them well.”

Then the cook drew his sword, and Little John drew his, and as neither would back away, they set about each other with their blades.

Out on the road they fought, and across the green. Their clashing steel made so much noise that you might have thought that two whole armies were in battle. Their swords were made thick and strong for breaking open armour. But neither man grew tiered as they wielded their heavy weapons for over an hour.

“I swear by my true life,” said Little John, “That you are the best swordsman that I ever did see. If only you can shoot as well with a bow, then you should come with me to Green Wood and join the band of Robin Hood. You’ll have three new sets of clothes a year and 20 marks for your purse.”

And the cook replied:

“Set down your sword and we shall be friends.”

And as they were both hungry after the fight, they went back to the Sheriff’s house and stuffed themselves with sweetmeats from the pantry. After that, they gathered all the precious things that they could find around the house. They took goblets and plates, trays and caskets. Nor did they forget the silver spoons. They found a crowbar and broke into the safe where they fond plenty of money in gold coins. All this they put into a chest and rode off with it to Green Wood and Robin Hood.

Robin was greatly amused by Little John’s story of his time in the service of the Sheriff, and he was indeed pleased with the chest full of loot. But he said:

“I cannot eat off the Sheriff’s plate unless his Lordship joins us here in Green Wood for dinner.”

And thinking this over, Little John said:

“Then let me fetch the Sheriff to you.”

He rode off across the forest to the Sheriff’s hunting lodge, and waited for him to return back from the day’s hunting with his hounds. When the Sheriff saw his new servant the said:

“So look who it is. Reynold Grenelef. What brings you here my man?”

Little John knelt before him and said:

“Good master. Five miles from here is one of the fairest sights I ever did see : Tender young hares and a herd of sixty or more deer. I did not dare aim my arrows for fear of the law, but thought I'd come and to tell you what I saw.”

The Sheriff replied that it would be a delight to watch Little John display his hunting skills with the Long Bow and arrow and added:

“Fear not the law, for I am the law here and I would love to see this sport.”

Then Little John led the Sheriff across the forest but not to the hunting grounds, for he took him instead to the camp of Robin Hood and his band of outlaws.

When the Sheriff saw that he was surrounded by brigands he exclaimed:

“Reynold Grenelef. You have betrayed me!”

And Little John replied.

“Master, I swear it was not my fault, for your steward and your butler would not give me dinner.”

Then Little John made the Sheriff take off his fine clothes and gave them to his cook, who put them on.

Robin invited the Sheriff, just wearing his shirt and britches, to sit down at his table, with this cook on one side and his “servant”, Little John, on the other. He placed before him his own silver plate, and filled his own goblet with wine. The feast was a good one, but the Sheriff had lost his appetite. He did not believe that he would leave the forest alive.

“Cheer up Lord Sheriff,” said Robin, “For I give you your life. You can live here with me for a year and I’ll teach you to be an outlaw.”

The Sheriff replied: “Better that in the morning you cut off my head.”

And Robin said: “Better in the morning that you should go free. But first you must swear an oath by St. Mary that you will never do any harm to me or my men.”

The Sheriff was too proud to agree to such a promise right away, but in the morning, after a night as the guest of Robin Hood, he thought better of it, and he agreed to swear the oath:

“For as long as I live I shall be Robin Hood’s best friend, and if any day or night, by water or by land, I shall ever find Robin Hood or any of his men, I shall help them in any way I can.”

And when he had sworn his oath, the Sheriff went on his way home, still wearing just his shirt and britches, and riding on mule.

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Introducing Mandy, Laura and Sam - the three members of the latest chart topping girl band - the chiX. This is the story of how it all began, before they were famous.

Oh, but we should not forget the other sister, Gladys. You might not have heard of her before. She's not in the band because she's too young and she's too geeky. But she is the brainiest. And although they others don't always admit it, they couldn't have got anywhere without her.

Read by Natasha. Duration 14 min.

Gladys and the chiX

Hello this is Natasha and this is a story about some sisters who had an ambition to be famous.

Have you ever wanted to be lead singer in a band? I mean, have you ever picked up an old cardboard toilet roll, held it to your mouth, and pretended that it was a microphone ?

Or have you ever found yourself tapping out a beat on the kitchen table with a couple of felt tip pens? Or come up with a great new dance in front of the mirror?

I bet you have because almost everyone has. Everyone except Gladys. She had never done anything like that. She was much too clever to mistake a toilet roll for a microphone. But her three older sisters had all done it. Their names were Mandy, Laura and Sam. And all three of them loved dancing. And while they were dancing, they secretly imagined that they were on TV and everyone was watching them. They also dreamed what it would be like to be really, really famous. When they went to school, the kids on the bus would say “Hey girls, you were great on TV last night.” Only they probably wouldn't go on the bus to school any more. The record company would give them a black stretch limo as long as the street and with dark windows. That's how they would go around once they were famous.

One Saturday night, all four sisters were squashed together on the couch watching the Eurovision Song contest. If you don't know what the Eurovision Song Contest is, that' s probably because you live in Mexico or somewhere twenty time zones away from Europe. In fact Gladys remarked:

“I wish we lived somewhere like Mexico or Alaska, and then we wouldn't be able to watch this trash.”

But Laura said, “I expect all the Mexicans watch it on the Internet.” And Gladys had to admit that she hadn't thought of that, because although she was the brainiest, she couldn't always think of everything.

Just in case you are lucky enough never to have seen the Eurovision Song Contest, I had better tell you about it. It's when all the worst bands in Europe get together and see who can come up with the corniest, cheesiest, naffest, most annoying tune, and who can dress up in the most ridiculous costume and look the silliest dancing and prancing around on stage. Only the bands taking part don't always understand it that way. They probably think that they are really it ! And do you know what? 100s of millions of people watch it every year. I'm not kidding. It's that popular.

It's true that quite a cool band called Abba once won it. But that was like, 7 zillion years ago. In fact, it was so long ago that Dad was still at school. And nobody cool has ever won it since.

Well Mandy,Laura and Sam liked watching it - There was a Danish Man dressed up as woman, a Norwegian Flamenco dancer. and a rugged Moldovian with blond hair extensions. They were just funny. The only band really worth seeing was from Ukraine. The singers were three beautiful but mean looking girls with straight black hair falling over their white faces..

“You know what?” said Mandy. “I bet we could do that. We could be just as good as them, and be on the Eurovision Song contest. In fact, I bet we could win it.”

“Only the UK never gets any points,” said Gladys.

“So ! We say we're from Montengro. But what I'm point out, is that they are on telly, and like billions of people are watching them, and we are just as good-looking as they are and can dance just as well as they can.”

“But we can't sing,” said Gladys.

“Well neither can they,” said Mandy. “Besides, Laura has a great voice. Everyone says so.”

Gladys still thought it was a silly idea so she said:

“But Laura wears a tracksuit and gold bangles, even when she's going out with her boyfriend. You can't dress like that if you're on TV.”

“Well, said Mandy, “When we're famous, all the top designers will send us free gear, so Laura won't have to wear a tracksuit unless she feels like it, like when she wants to go shopping and not get noticed by all the fans. Beside, you aren't in this band, because you're too young.”

“And too Geeky..” added Laura.

Gladys hadn't really thought about being in the band, but when they said that she wasn't in it, she felt well, a bit left out. It wasn't fair. She could play the piano. If anyone was going to form a band, it ought to be her.

“Well at least I know how to read music, which is more than any of you lot,” she said. “So you'll have to have me in your band because you won't know what tune to sing.”

Laura scoffed:

“Ah come off it who's ever heard of a band that knows how to read music ? We're not the church choir ! Now go and play computer games like a good little geek while we get ready to be famous.”

“Yeah go on G-laddy,” said Sam, “Stop annoying your older and better sisters. You aren't in the band anyway, and it's time to tuck your dollies up in bed.”

It was particularly annoying when Sam spoke like that, because she was born only a year and a half before Gladys, but she looked a lot older, especially when she put on make-up, so somehow people took her more seriously.

“I haven't got any dollies,” said Gladys as she left the room - “Unlike you darling Samantha - you've still got six ! Besides, your band hasn't even to a name - so it's not a band at all. Good night.”

On Sunday afternoon, Gladys spent a lot of time on her homework, because she was working on a big project about Ancient Egypt and she had to research the pyramids on the Internet. But her three older sisters watched the music channel on TV and tried to copy some of the dance routines.”

Later that evening, they were still talking about what to call their girl band - because it wasn't easy to come up with cool name.

“How about The Smith Sisters?” said Mandy. You see, their name was Smith.

“Boring ! ” said Laura.

‘Or The Teddy Girls?” suggested Sam. Because they lived in a place called Teddington.

“Too babyish” said Mandy.

Dad was there for a while. He had go wind of this idea about forming a band - though nobody had actually told him about it. He said : “How about the Rich Girls?” because he was hoping that they would pay for his retirement. But the girls took no notice of him - they never did - so he went out to the front drive to fix his motor bike, which was how he usually spent Sunday Evenings.

While they were talking, Gladys had been trying to imagine a name that both sounded good, and looked good when it was written down - like on a poster or an album cover. When the others went quiet, she said:

“I think “chiX spelt with a small c and a big X because it's a Chick Band and X looks like a kiss.”

“Yeah, or like “Leave me alone” which is cool,” said Laura, “But I bet there's already a girl band called the chiX because it's too good.”

Mandy searched iTunes and YouTube and she couldn't find any other band with that name. They couldn't think of anything else, so their name just sort of became “chiX. But somehow they didn't quite remember that it was Gladys who had come up with it. It was just like they had always been the chiX ever since they were born.

Now all they needed was a song - but of course they didn't have one. A week went by and the chiX almost got forgotten. Then next Saturday, when Dad came home from the football match, he said :

“Hey girls, how's your band going. Have you got a gig fixed up yet?”

“Of course they haven't go a gig,” said Gladys. “They haven't even got a song.”

Dad was disappointed. You could could see from his face that in his mind, his darling daughters were already rich and famous and had bought their beloved daddy a new bike, a cottage by the sea, and a subscription to the sports channel.

Mandy said: “I'm working on it.”

“Oh go on Mandy, do sing it to me, pretty please, I”m sure it's such a lovely song,” said Gladys.
And Mandy looked annoyed.

“Well don't cry. I'll write you some words.”

“How could you write the lyrics for a song?” asked Laura. “You don't know anything about relationships. You're too young.”

“Not all songs are about relationships,” replied Gladys. “Some people think about other things apart from boys.”

And Mandy said: “Besides, before we start on any songs, we need to decide what sort of musical genre we're going to do. I mean, are we going to be more like the Spice Girls or the SugarBabes?”

“Can anyone really tell the difference?” asked Gladys. But that gave her an idea to work on. So she went up to her room, sat down at her desk and scribbled down a few ideas. Later she came to the living room and switched off the television. Her sisters started to say “Ah come on Glad, what was that for?' But she took no notice. She stood in front of TV and read out her words:

You've had your sugar
You've had your spice
Now you're looking
For something nice.
Not too sweet
and not too sharp
The chiX are here
to take your heart.

“Not bad, ” said Laura,” but “sharp doesn't rhyme with heart.”

“Well what do you want it to rhyme with - Harp? Besides it's an internal rhyme. And i've got a chorus.

But don't you think
We're an easy catch
don't count your chix
Before they hatch !

Well at least that rhymes - said Mandy. Here, that's not too bad. Did you really write those words yourself Gladdy?

“Of course”, she said, and before she handed over her words she signed her name on the bottom and wrote Copyright Gladys Smith so that they others wouldn't forget that she composed them.

Now the chiX had some words, all the needed was some music. And I'll tell you about how they made that another time soon.

And don't forget - there are loads more stories on Storynory.com. So drop by soon, and listen to a few. For now, from me, Natasha, Bye Bye !

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The Emperor is enormously vain and likes nothing better than to show off his clothes. Two weavers comes to his court saying that they makes clothes that are like no others - anyone who is simple in the head, or unfit for his job, will not be able to see them.

All the courtiers say that the clothes are quite magnificent, and the Emperor plans to wear his new suit for the procession through the center of the City.

The moral of this story rings so very true ! What we are doing is totally absurd, but we can't stop because everybody else seems to believe that it's the right thing to do. And yet they can probably see it's just as ridiculous as we can.

The little boy who literally sees through the Emperor's New Clothes only appears for a moment, and yet he is one of the greatest heroes of all fairy tales - for he speaks the truth that nobody else dares to speak.

Read by Natasha. Duration 18 min.

Many years ago, there was an Emperor, who was so excessively fond of new clothes, that he spent all his money on the finest suits.

He did not trouble himself in the least about his soldiers; nor did he care to go to the theatre or out hunting, except when there was a chance to show off his new clothes.

He had a different suit for each hour of the day. Just as you might say of any other king or emperor, “He is sitting in his council” - people used to say of him, “He is sitting in his wardrobe.”

Time passed merrily in the large town which was his capital; strangers arrived every day at the court. One day, two rogues, calling themselves weavers came to the court. They said that they knew how to weave clothes of the most beautiful colors and elaborate patterns. The clothes made from their cloths were like no others: They were invisible to everyone who was either unfit for their job, or extremely simple in the head.

“These must, indeed, be splendid clothes!” thought the Emperor. “Had I such a suit, I might at once find out what men in my empire are unfit for their jobs, and also be able to tell the wise from the foolish! This stuff must be woven for me immediately.”

And he ordered large sums of money to be given to both the weavers so that they might begin their work.
So the two false weavers set up two looms, and pretended to work very busily, though in reality they did nothing at all. They asked for the most delicate silk and the purest gold thread; put both into their own knapsacks; and then continued their pretend work at the empty looms until late at night.

“I should like to know how the weavers are getting on with my cloth,” said the Emperor to himself, after some little time had gone by; he was, however, rather embarrassed, when he remembered that a simpleton, or someone unfit for his office, would be unable to see the results of their work.

To be sure, he himself not have any trouble seeing the clothes, but yet, thought it would be better to send somebody else to report on the weavers and their work.

All the people throughout the city had heard of the wonderful cloth; and all were anxious to earn how wise, or how ignorant, their neighbors might prove to be.

“I will send my faithful old minister to the weavers,” said the Emperor at last, after some thought “he will be best able to see how the cloth looks; for he is a man of sense, and no one can be more suitable for his office than he is.”

So the faithful old minister went into the hall, where the knaves were working with all their might, at their empty looms. “What can be the meaning of this?” thought the old man, opening his eyes very wide. “I cannot see the least bit of thread on the looms.” However, he did not speak his thoughts aloud.

The tricksters asked him very politely to be so good as to come nearer their looms; and then asked him whether the design pleased him, and whether the colors were not very beautiful; at the same time pointing to the empty frames. The poor old minister looked and looked, he could not see anything on the looms, for a very good reason: there was nothing there.

“What!” thought he again. “Is it possible that I am a simpleton? I have never thought so myself; and no one must know it now if I am so. Can it be, that I am unfit for my office? No, that must not be said either. I will never confess that I could not see the stuff.”

“Well, Sir Minister!” said one of the knaves, still pretending to work. “You do not say whether the stuff pleases you.”

“Oh, it is excellent!” replied the old minister, looking at the loom through his spectacles. “This pattern, and the colors, yes, I will tell the Emperor without delay, how very beautiful I think them.”

“We shall be much obliged to you,” said the impostors, and then they named thedifferent colors and described the pattern of the pretended stuff. The old minister listened attentively to their words, in order that he might repeat them to the Emperor; and then the knaves asked for more silk and gold, saying that it was necessary to complete what they had begun. However, they put all that was given them into their knapsacks; and continued to work with as much pretend effort as before at their empty looms.

The Emperor now sent another officer of his court to see how the men were getting on, and to find out whether the cloth would soon be ready. It was just the same with this gentleman as with the minister; he looked at the looms on all sides, but could see nothing at all but the empty frames.

“Does not the stuff appear as beautiful to you, as it did to my lord the minister?” asked the impostors of the Emperor's second ambassador; at the sametime making the same gestures as before, and talking of the design and colors which were not there.

“I certainly am not stupid!” thought the messenger. “It must be, that I am not fit for my good, well-paid job! That is very odd; however, no one shall know anything about it.” And therefore he praised the stuff he could not see, and declared that he was delighted with both colors and patterns. “Indeed, please your Imperial Majesty,” said he to the emperor when he returned, “the cloth which the weavers are preparing is extraordinarily magnificent.”

The whole city was talking of the splendid cloth which the Emperor had ordered to be woven at his own expense.

And now the Emperor for himself wished to see the costly manufacture, while it was still in the loom. Accompanied by a select number of officers of the court, among whom were the two honest men who had already admired the cloth, he went to the crafty impostors, who, as soon as they knew the Emperor was on his way, went on working more hard than ever; although they still did not pass a single thread through the looms.

“Is not the work absolutely magnificent?” said the two officers of the crown, who already who had been before: “If your Majesty will only be pleased to look at it! What a splendid design! What glorious colors!” and at the same time they pointed to the empty frames; for they imagined that everyone else could see this exquisite piece of workmanship.

“How is this?” said the Emperor to himself. “I can see nothing! This is indeed a terrible affair! Am I a simpleton, or am I unfit to be an Emperor? That would be the worst thing that could happen”–”Oh! the cloth is charming,” said he, aloud. “It has my complete approval.” And he smiled most graciously, and looked closely at the empty looms; for on no account would he say that he could not see what two of the officers of his court had praised so much.

All his retinue now strained their eyes, hoping to discover something on the looms, but they could see no more than the others; nevertheless, they all exclaimed, “Oh, how beautiful!” and advised his majesty to have some new clothes made from this splendid material, for the public procession which was due to take place soon.

“Magnificent! Charming! Excellent!” everyone said on all sides; and everyone was uncommonly cheerful. The Emperor shared in the general satisfaction; and presented the impostors with the riband of an order of knighthood, to be worn in their button-holes, and the title of “Gentlemen Weavers.”

The rogues sat up the whole of the night before the day on which the procession was to take place, and had sixteen lights burning, so that everyone might see how anxious they were to finish the Emperor's new suit. They pretended to roll the cloth off the looms; cut the air with their scissors; and sewed with needles without any thread in them. “See!” cried they, at last. “The Emperor's new clothes are ready!”

And now the Emperor, with all the grandees of his court, came to the weavers; and the rogues raised their arms, as if holding something up, saying, “Here are your Majesty's trousers! Here is the scarf! Here is the cloak! The whole suit is as light as a cobweb; one might fancy one has nothing at all on, when one is dressed in it; that, however, is the great virtue of this delicate cloth.”

“Yes indeed!” said all the courtiers, although not one of them could see anything of this exquisite manufacture.

“If your Imperial Majesty will be graciously pleased to take off your clothes, we will fit on the new suit, in front of the looking glass.”

The Emperor was accordingly undressed, and the rogues pretended to array him in his new suit; the Emperor turning round, from side to side, looking in the glass.

“How splendid his Majesty looks in his new clothes, and how well they fit!” everyone cried out. “What a design! What colors! These are indeed royal robes!”

“The canopy which is to be carried over your Majesty, in the procession, is waiting,” announced the chief master of the ceremonies.

“I am quite ready,” answered the Emperor. “Do my new clothes fit well?” asked he, turning himself round again before the looking glass, in order that he might appear to be examining his handsome suit.

The lords of the bedchamber, who were to carry his Majesty's train felt about on the ground, as if they were lifting up the ends of the robes. and pretended to be carrying something; for they would by no means let anyone see that they were simple or unfit for their jobs.

So now the Emperor walked under his high canopy in the midst of the procession, through the streets of his capital; and all the people standing by, and those at the windows, cried out, “Oh! How beautiful are our Emperor's clothes! What a magnificent train there is to the robes and how gracefully the scarf hangs!” In short, no one would allow that he could not see these much-admired clothes; because, in doing so, he would have declared himself either a simpleton or unfit for his job. Certainly, none of the Emperor's various suits, had ever made so great an impression, as these invisible ones.

“But the Emperor has nothing at all on!” said a little child.

“Listen to the voice of innocence!” exclaimed his father; and what the child had said was whispered from one to another.

“But he has nothing at all on!” at last cried out all the people. The Emperor was suddenly embarrassed, for he knew that the people were right; but he thought the procession must go on now! And the lords of the bedchamber took greater pains than ever, to appear holding up the robes although, in reality, there were no robes at all.

And that's the story of the Emperor's New Clothes by Hans Christian Andersen.

Bertie says that in real life, people are often more silly in a crowd than they are on their own. If you think that everybody else believes something, then it must be true - and you have to be very brave to be like the little boy in the story and stand up and say what can see with your own eyes.

Download the audio of Robin Hood

Who hasn't heard of Robin Hood? He could make a claim to be the most famous Englishman who ever lived. His story has been told and retold many times. We have tried to stay true in spirt to one of the earliest ballads about the famous robber, The Gest of Robin Hood.

The word “gest” is old English, and a bit of a pun. It could mean a “jest” or a “guest” and it has an ancient meaning as a “heroic deed”.

Normally Robin likes to entertain his guests in Sherwood Forrest with food and wine, before relieving them of their gold. But in this story his guest is a sad Knight who has no money to surrender. Instead, Robin lends him money so that he can repay a loan to the cruel Abbot.

As in all Robin Hood stories, anybody in authority is a baddie (except King Richard) - and that includes the leaders of the church who are abusing their power.

More episodes will follow

Read by Natasha. Duration 14.18

Of all the thieves and high-way robbers who have ever lived, by far the politest was Robin Hood. He liked to entertain those he robbed as guests in his own home. And although his home was a rough camp in Green Wood, which was the thickest and darkest part of Sherwood forest, his table was always heavy with rich food and wine. He was very choosy about those whom he invited to his layer. He only liked to rob the best sort of people - nobles, knights, barons, and leading figures of the church. He treated his victims with such great courtesy and hospitality, that afterwards some of them said that it had been a privilege to have robbed by Robin Hood.

One day, Robin and his men had been out shooting game in the King's Forest. It was this habit that had made them outlaws in the first place - for for the King's brother, John, had declared that all the forests belonged to him - and anyone who hunted there without his permission would face severe punishment. King Richard himself would not have deprived the foresters of food, but he was away fighting wars oversees. And while he was away, his brother John ruled England with cruelty and injustice.

On this day, the hunting had been good, and Robin Hood and his men were looking forward to a fine dinner.

“But let us not be greedy and keep all this fine food to ourselves,” said Robin. “I will not eat until I have a worthy guest at my table. Little John, go and find me a fitting guest and invite him to dine with us.”

Little John's real name was John Little, but everyone called him Little John because he was so huge. He was six foot five inches tall and as broad as a tree. He was Robin's most trusted partner in crime, and feared nothing and nobody - not even Robin. Although he was hungry, he agreed to go and find a guest. He took two of the best men - Will Scarlock and Much the Miller's son, and went up to the highway to wait for a suitable guest to come along.

The road was quiet and they waited an hour or more for a suitable victim. At last a Knight came riding down the road. As he drew near they saw that he was lost in thought, and that there was a look of great sadness on his face. The three men jumped out and pointed their arrows at his chest. Their long bows were so powerful that they could easily pass through any armoured breast plate or chain-mail.

“Cheer Up Gentle Sir Knight,” called out Little John. “You Are invited to the table of my master for dinner tonight.”

The Knight was startled and replied: “But I plan to dine in Barnslydale tonight, for tomorrow I must go to see the Abbot on urgent business.”

“T'is a pity,” said Little John, still aiming his arrow at the Knight's chest, “For my master will take great offence should you refuse his kind invitation.”

“And who might your master be?” asked the Knight.

“His name should be known to all who pass by Sherwood forest, for it is Robin Hood.”

“In that case I shall come,” said the Knight, “For I have heard much about him.”

Will Scarlock placed a blindfold over the knight's eyes, and they led him through the forest to the hide-away. Robin greeted the knight with great courtesy;

“Welcome to Green Wood Gentle Sir Knight, all ours is yours.”. They washed their hands together in the stream, and then they dined on Pheasant, trout, cuts of venison, and barley bread, and swilled it down with plenty of red wine.

“I have not eaten such a dinner in these last three months,” declared the Knight. “And if you visit my castle, I shall make you a fine feast in return.”

“Ah,” said Robin, “I would much prefer, Kind Sir, that you paid before you leave - for it is the custom in Green Wood that a peasant's son such as I should not pay for a knight.”

The sad expression returned to the Knight's face.

“I have but ten shillings,” he said.

Robin had not entertained such a poor guest at his table before.

“If what you say is true,” he said, “I will not take one penny off you. Indeed, I shall lend you money from my own coffers.”

And he sent Little John to look through the Knight's belongings. When he had checked them, he said.

“Our gentle Knight is indeed a pauper.”

“How come so poor?” asked Robin.

And the sad Knight told his story. He had a son who was a fine, strong, but hot-tempered young man. He liked to joust, and in a contest he had killed the son of a Baron. The Baron demanded blood-money of four hundred pounds, and if it was not paid, the Knight's son would be put on trial for murder and executed. In those days, four hundred pounds was a great deal of money, and although the knight had a steady income from his lands, he did not have such a sum ready to give. He was forced to borrow from a wealthy churchman, the Abbot of the Monastery of St. Mary.. The Abbot gave the Knight just three months to repay the loan, and if he failed to pay back the money in that time, the Knight must give the Abbot all his land instead. The time of the loan was almost up, and the Knight was travelling to the Abbot to plead for more time to pay,

“But the Abbot did not become rich by showing mercy,” said the Knight, “And therefore I fully expect that by tomorrow evening I will truly be a landless pauper. I plan to take a ship join King Richard who is fighting in the Holy Lands.”

“Too many good knights are overseas,” said Robin, “Which is why there is so much injustice at home. No, by St. Mary who is dear to me, I shall make you a loan of four hundred pounds and you shall repay the Abbot.'

The next day, at the Monastery of St. Mary, a monk spoke to the Abbot:

“Your worshipful Grace. . Today the Knight must repay his loan or forfeit his lands.”

“He will surely forfeit, ” replied the Abbot, “For I do not think he will find Four Hundred Pounds in so short a time.”

When the Knight and Little John arrived outside the Monastery, they changed into their poor clothes again, before entering and asking to see the Abbot.

The porter at the gate said: “That surely is the shabbiest and saddest looking Knight that I ever did see.”

Inside the main hall, the Knight knelt down before Abbot. The Abbot did not greet him, but said straight out:

“Well, have you brought my money?”

“Not one penny,” replied the knight.

The monk said: “Then why did you come to waste his Grace's time like this? Your lands are lost. Go away.'

“I came, ” said the knight, “To ask for mercy and more time to pay.”

“You shall not have a minute more,” said the Abbot. “Your lands are mine. Be off.”

“If you give me more time, I shall serve you faithfully,” said the Knight. “Show mercy. For it is good help one who has need.”

At this the Abbot swore a great oath and roundly cursed him.

“Out false Knight ! Speed out of my hall!” he shouted.

“I am no false knight,” replied the debtor. And with that he opened his bag and emptied the gold onto the floor. “If you had shown mercy, I would have repaid your debt and served you faithfully, but as it is, here is your money. Now the papers to my land, your Grace, if you please.”

And the Abbot had no choice but to hand back the deeds to the Knight's land - -although he was sorry to do so - for it was worth a good deal more than four hundred pounds in gold.

Two day's later, the Knight returned to his castle wearing his sad expression. “Are we paupers?” asked his wife. “No,” said he brightening up,”We are saved. And God Bless Robin Hood!”

A year passed, and the Knight gathered together four hundred pounds to repay his debt to Robin. He also made 100 arrows and had them plumbed with peacock feathers as a gift to show his gratitude.

A good friar arranged a meeting with Robin beneath a great oak tree in Green Wood. On the way, the Knight stopped to watch a wrestling match between the son of a nobleman and a peasant. The two men, pushed, grappled, arm-locked, tripped, and threw each other, but the peasant was the stronger, and he soon had the nobleman's son pinned to the ground and unable to move. He claimed his prize - a pound in gold - but the nobleman's friends would not pay. Instead, the judge of the contest drew his sword and was about to kill the peasant for his impudence.

Seeing this, the Knight rode up and declared. “The man that harms the victor of this match will have to contend with me!” The nobleman's friends did not want to take on a knight, and they released the peasant.

“Follow me,” said the Knight, “And I will take you to join Robin Hood and his men.”

The peasant agreed, for he knew that if he did not, the noblemen would get him later.

The Knight arrived late for his meeting with Robin, and when he explained what had delayed him on the way, Robin said.

“Gentle Sir Knight, Consider the four hundred pounds a gift, for I will not accept a penny from a man who stands up for justice.”

“Then take these,” said the Knight, and he showed Robin the 100 arrows plumbed with peacock feathers.

That evening the gentle Knight was a guest at Robin's table for a second time, and they feasted until they could eat no more.

Download the audio of the Minotaur

This is an exciting story of a duel between a monster and a man which took place in a dark underground labyrinth. It also has touch of a romance and the bitter after-taste of a betrayal. A little history about about King Minos of Crete is woven into the story. You can still see the remains of his palace today, at Knossos.

Read by Natasha. Duration 16 Minutes.

A long time ago – almost before history began – King Minos ruled the lovely island of Crete. The father of Minos was none other than Zeus, lord of all the gods, and he made sure that his son's wealth and power only grew and grew.

Minos built a navy, and his ships sailed far and wide, bringing back goods, taxes, and something even more important than those – knowledge. For instance, when Minos wanted to build a palace that would strike awe and wonder into all who laid eyes on it, he asked his sea captain :

“Of all the palaces you have seen, on all your travels over the seas, which was the most magnificent?”
And the sea captain replied:

“Your majesty, the palace of Aegeus , King of Athens, surpasses all others for its beauty and grace. It was designed by Deadalus and the Athenians boast that he is the most brilliant architect who has ever lived.”

When he heard this, King Minos ordered the sea captain to fetch Deadalus to Crete. The sea captain sailed to Athens and told King Aegeus that Minos had need of his chief architect – and as Minos was the most powerful leader of those times, King Aegeus could not deny him his wish.

And so Daedalus brought his knowledge and great skill to Crete, and there he designed a wonderful palace for Minos. It was built on three floors, which was very high for buildings of those days, and the bathrooms and kitchens had plumbing that was far ahead of the times. Everywhere you went inside, you saw the double headed axe of King Minos which was his symbol of power. Upstairs, the walls were covered with bright pictures of dances and festivities. On them, you could see the young men and women of Crete leaping over the horns of bulls. It a dangerous sport indeed, but the Cretens loved to show off their skill and bravery.

The happiness of Minos was almost complete – there was but one sadness in his life. His wife gave birth to a child that was strange and unnatural. Although its face was human, it walked on four feet with hooves. Horns came out of its head, and in time it grew into a terrible monster – half man, half bull. When it bellowed the whole land of Crete shook, the walls of the palace trembled, and there were storms at sea. The people gossiped about his strange child of the King, whom they called the Minotaur. Minos wanted to have it killed, but he thought the gods would be angry with him if he killed his own son. Instead he ordered Daedalus to build a maze, known as a labyrinth, where the Minotaur could live out of sight and out of mind.

Daedalus built a Labyrinth underground that was so intricate and cunning in its design, that even he himself had trouble finding the way out.

The Minotaur agreed to live in the Labyrinth, but he demanded that human beings be sent into his maze at regular intervals, otherwise he would rage with hunger even until the walls of the palace fell down. And so Minos ordered the kings of the nearby lands to send ships full of their young people to sacrifice to the Minotaur. Every ninth year it was the turn of Athens to send its human tribute to Crete. Twice, King Aegeus agreed to this – for he was still afraid of Minos and the power of his navy – but on the third occasion, his son, Prince Theseus said to him:

“Father, this time, let me sail to Crete, and I shall kill the Minotaur and end this misery for our people. ”
Aegeus was very reluctant to send his beloved son to chance his life against the Minotaur but, as he could see no other way out of the terrible situation for his people, he agreed.

It was decided that the ship of Theseus would carry two sets of sails. If the mission was successful, it would return to Athens under white sails, but if Theseus was killed by the Minotaur, it would sail back under black sails. That way, the people of Athens would receive the news of the outcome all the sooner.

Prince Theseus sailed to Crete and stayed with King Minos in his magnificent palace. There, on occasion, he caught sight of Princess Ariadne, the lovely daughter of King Minos. When Ariadne saw Theseus she felt great pity for him.

“Certainly, he looks very nice,” she thought, “But what a shame that his life is about to end so soon and so terribly ! For even if he succeeds in killing the Minotaur, he will never find his way out of the dark and winding Labyrinth.”

And when Theseus saw Ariadne he thought:

“Surely the King's own daughter knows some of his secrets. If only she could be persuaded to help me, I might stand a better chance of killing the Minotaur and escaping from the Labyrinth with my life.”
One day, when for a very short time Theseus found himself alone with Ariadne, he went down on his knees and begged her for any help that she could give him.

Ariadne promised to do what she could, and that evening she asked the advice of Daedalus, for if anyone knew the way out of the maze, it would surely be its architect. Daedalus too wanted to help Theseus – for they were both from the City of Athens. And so he gave Ariadne his secret plan of the Labyrinth – but she was dismayed when she examined it and saw the numerous twists and turns in the underground passage-ways. Even with a map it would be impossible to find one's way through such a maze.

Later on, she found Theseus walking alone in the gardens, and she gave him the map. When he unfurled the map and saw its complexity he said:

“Oh Princess. I trust in my courage and my skill with my spear and my sword, but doubt that I shall ever find my way out of a maze such as this.”

But Ariadne had thought of a second way to help Theseus. She gave him a ball of thread, and told him to unwind it as he went through the dark Labyrinth. And on the way back he should gather the wool up, and follow it back to the daylight.

Theseus was pleased with the plan, and he kissed the hand of the princess, thanking her for all her help. The next day he said to King Minos.

“You majesty. I have been honoured to be your guest for one whole week. Now I am ready to complete my mission, and meet either death or glory.”

King Minos would have been happy for the foreign prince to rid him of the Minotaur – but he thought he stood little chance. He led Theseus to the entrance to the Labyrinth and wished him goodbye, for he never expected to see him again. Then Theseus ventured into the maze, and a little way in, he tied one end of the ball of thread a beam. He went further, and soon he was in complete darkness. He had to feel his way along the walls, and around the twists and turns of the Labyrinth. All the while he unwound the ball of wool that Ariadne had given him. Somewhere, deep inside, the bull was stamping and snorting, impatient to meet its latest sacrifice.

At last, deep within, Theseus could hear that the Minataur was close by. He found a passageway that led to a dead end - as many of them did – but what made this one different was that there was a sudden turning just before the end. He had seen this passage on the map, and it was just the place he was looking for.

Theseus hid himself around this final twist and called out to the Minataur – it heard him and came charging down the passage – but it could not slow down before the turning and charged straight into the wall. While it was still stunned from the impact, Theseus thrust his spear into the beast's neck and killed it - though it did not let up its life before letting out a terrible bellow. The the walls of the palace shook and trembled, and King Minos said:

“Thank Zeus ! It seems that Prince Theseus has rid us of the terrible monster. But he will never find is way out of the Labyrinth and will surely die there.”

But Theseus began to gather up the ball of thread, until at last he reached the exit where Ariadne was eagerly waiting for him.

“Princess, how can I thank you,” said Theseus, “For without your help I would never have found my way out of that terrible place.”

And Ariadne replied :

“Take me back to Athens with you, and I shall be your bride.”

Now these were far from the words that Theseus had been hoping to hear. For although Ariadne was extremely beautiful, he was due to marry a different Princess his return to Athens. But he could not quite find the words to explain this to Ariadne, and so he replied in haste:

“Come: we must leave right away before your father discovers the truth.”

And leading her by the hand he led her down to his ship that was ready and waiting.

They set sail immediately for Athens, and in her heart Ariadne was overjoyed because she would soon marry her hero – or so she believed. But he had different plans. On the way back, they stopped at the island of Naxos to gather supplies. Ariadne walked to the end of the beach, paddling in the waves, and Theseus told the sea captain to set sail as fast as he could. Poor Ariadne was marooned on the island of Naxos, abandoned by her faithless lover. She stood high up on the cliffs and watched his sail disappear over the horizon. As she shed bitter tears, Bachuus the god of wine heard her weeping and decided to cheer her as best he could. He led his procession to her – wild animals and dancing servants, banging on drums and sounding trumpets. He took her crown from her head, and cast it up into the sky – it soared up to the heavens and its jewels turned into stars and formed a constellation in the shape of a crown.

As Theseus sailed away, he was laughing with the sea captain about the trick they had played. But Poseidon, the god of the seas heard them and was angry with Theseus for his betrayal of the princess. He sent a storm to toss his ship. The white sales were ripped and torn and fell into the raging seas. The ship survived the storm, but the captain was forced to repair his ship and use the second set of sails – the black ones that were meant to signal failure.

As they approached Athens, they were spotted by fishermen who raced back home to report the dreaded news.
The ship of Theseus, the hope of Athens, was returning under black sails. When this news reached the ears of the old king he ordered his chariot to take him down the harbour to see the ship return. When he saw that it was indeed returning under black sails, he was filled with uncontrollable grief and threw himself from the top of the harbour tower and into the sea where he drowned.

And that is the story of how Theseus betrayed Ariadne who had helped him escape death in the Labyrinth of the Minataur.

Bertie says that if you ever visit the National Gallery in London, you can see a famous picture of Ariadne and Baccus on the island of Naxos – it's by an Italian painter called Titian.

And that was not quite the end of the tale, because there is another story about what happened to Daedalus, the architect of the famous Labarynth. Bertie says it's a much shorter story, but it's a good one, with a moral to it.

Download the audio of the Zoo Story (right click, save as)

Theo, the star of our popular story The Monkey Who Loved Chocolate, returns for a new escapade in which the animals at the zoo face a major threat to the comfy lifestyle in the form of Mr. Shingles, the new chief zoo keeper.

Mr. Shingles does not believe in modern zoology. He thinks that pampering to animals every wish just encourages them to lounge and loaf around. His new regime is far from the animals liking. The animals want to “bite back” - but only Theo is ingenious enough to find a way.

Read by Natasha. Duration 16 min.

Life in the zoo was not as exciting as on the outside, but it had its attractions.   The daily menus catered for everyone's  tastes.  Some liked berries, others liked bananas.   Some hungered for steak, others for fresh termites.   The food just turned up every day, and nobody had to hunt or gather.  The animals didn't even have to tidy up their own cages or make their beds with fresh straw.  The keepers did all that for them.
 
The keeper of the monkeys cage was called Mr. Hartley.   He was a sweet man, and if the truth be told, a bit of a softy.  Anything the monkeys screeched for, he provided - almost always.  The chief monkey, whose name was Bozo, wanted a television so that he could watch Animal Planet.  At first Mr. Harley could not understand what he was squawking on about, but he saw that Bozo was pointing to the video screen that displayed important information for the visitors.   He tried turning it off, but that agitated Bozo even more.  Then he twigged what was in monkeys' mind, and he went out and bought the latest flat panel TV and put it in the window of his office where Bozo and his followers could watch it.
 
But such a life of luxury could not go on for ever, and it didn't.
 
After Theo's famous escape and his chocolate-crazed escapade,  the zoo was noticed in high places.    The local newspaper ran a headline that read:
 
“Slack Security at the Zoo.”
 
And a local politician ran for election under the slogan;
 
“Time to get tough on the animals.”
 
Pressure mounted for change.  The head zoo-keeper lost his job.   The new zoo boss was a man of a very different ilk.  His name was Mr.  Shingles, and he held old-fashioned views about how animals should be kept.   He didn't believe in trendy modern zoology.  He thought that pandering to animals' every demand just encouraged them to laze and loaf around.  He knew that his views were out of step with modern thinking, and he felt bitter because he had risen slowly through the ranks of the zoo service.  But now the town's mayor had recognised his talents. His day had come.
 
On his first morning at work, he toured the zoo.  When he came to the monkeys, he could hardly believe his eyes.
 
“Who is the keeper of this cage?” 
 
“I am Sir, ” admitted Mr. Heartly.
 
“Well it's a disgrace !”  shouted Mr. Shingles. “Monkeys lounging around watching television in the middle of the morning.   They'll turn into TV zombies.  Take their goggle-box immediately!”
 
And Mr. Heartly had no choice, but do as he was told.   It didn't matter how much Bozo screeched now - Mr. Heartly did not dare to cater to his demands. 
 
Next Mr. Shingles visited the part of the zoo called “The Kingdom of the Great Apes”.   He was furious that the zoo's prize gorilla was too shy to come out and greet him.  “What's the point of a hairy king who hides away?” he demanded to know.  “Tell his majesty that the visitors have paid good money to see his ugly face, and in future he had better show it.”
 
And as he continued on his tour he had plenty more to note about the animals -  and none of it was good.  The lion was asleep,  the koalas were hanging around in one big daze, the stick insects were all but invisible,  the bears were hiding in their lairs, the penguins were pushing and shoving at feeding time, the hippos were letting off great gusts of wind,  and the baboons were showing their bottoms to the visitors.
 
He gathered the keepers round and delivered this message:
 
“There' are far too many scroungers, layabouts, and free-loaders  in this zoo.   I want every primate - and yes that includes the keepers - I want every quadruped, every bird, fish, reptile and every last tiny insect to understand this:  from now on,  if they want to eat, they must provide value for money!”
 
He gave special instructions to Mr. Heartly.   He must  make the monkeys do some scientific tests and prove their worth.
 
“Idle hands do the devil's work,” he said.  “Keep those monkey minds occupied and they will stay out of trouble.”
 
Mr. Heartly tried to explain that it was all very well to teach chimps to do clever tricks,  but monkeys had smaller brains.
 
But Mr. Shingles boomed back: “Those monkeys aren't stupid, they're just lazy.”
 
And so poor Mr. Heartly spent his days trying to teach the monkeys to   count to three and to read the newspaper.  None of them showed an inclination to learn their lessons, except for one, and that was Theo. “Well well, well,” said Mr. Heartly.  “So it turns out that the naughtiest monkey of them all is the brainiest.”
 
Life changed dramatically for all the other animals too.  They keepers kept the lion awake by mixing coffee into  his cat food,  they cut back the Koalas eucalyptus leaves,  they sealed up the bears lairs, they painted the stick insects bright blue, and they did not feed  penguins until they stood  in and orderly line.  The hippos were put on diets.  As for the baboons, they weren't aloud out of their rooms until they learned to show some respect to the visitors.
 
 
At night all the animals complained.   They were kept apart by their cages, but those that could roar, roared, and those that could squawk, squawked.   The wild birds twittered to their friends in the avery, and all the talk was of a strike at the zoo.   A local reporter got wind of this, and went to ask Mr. Shingles what he would do if the animals went on strike.
 
“Ha! ” exclaimed Mr. Shingles. “If a bunch of creatures are too lazy to get out of bed in the morning,  how would you know when they go on strike?  In any case, we'll just stop their food, and then we'll see how long the strike lasts.”
 
And so the animals didn't go on strike. But they were looking for revenge.  And Theo found it.
 
One day,  kind Mr.  Heartly was sweeping up the peach stones and banana skins off the floor of the cage.   Theo noticed that he had left his key in the door.  He swung by and grabbed it, before whisking it off to hide on a high branch of his favourite tree.  As Mr. Heartly left the cage, he noticed that he had lost his key - but he didn't dare tell anyone about it, because he was afraid of losing his job.   Instead, he took the spare set of keys from his desk. 
 
“After all,” he said to himself. “What harm can come of it?   It's not as if monkeys know how to turn keys in locks.”
 
But Theo did.   And that night he opened the door and loped over to the Head Keeper's office.  Mr. Shingles light was still on .  He was working late, writing to all the keepers to tell them how much their wages would be cut.  But he had left a window open at the back, and Theo crept inside and hid inside a cupboard until Mr. Shingles left for the night.  
 
The keys to all the cages were hanging on the walls.   Each one had a label on its ring.   Theo spelt out “LI-ON”  and “B-EAR” and “Hipp-o”.   He was thankful to Mr. Heartly for teaching him to read.    Then he scampered around the cages opening all the doors.  First he let out the monkeys and  the apes.  He told them to make as much noise as possible to wake everyone else up.  The King Gorilla made a quiet but dignified speech, appealing to the larger animals not to eat anyone, and to be careful not to tread on any of the insects.
 
 None of the animals left the zoo altogether - they just fluttered, plodded galloped, swung, and crawled all over the public areas of the zoo.  Some of them tried the sandwiches in the cafe, but they soon realised that their own food was far better than what the visitors were served.   Others munched the leaves on the trees and nibbled the grass on the square.  An elephant wandered into Mr. Shingles office.  There wasn't much of it left after that.  
 
In the morning, the giraffes' keeper, a lady called Molly, was the first to arrive at work.  When she saw the animals wondering around, she immediately went back to her car and called up the local TV Station.  Then she called Mr. Shingles.
 
“Good morning sir. The Animals have escaped.”
 
“Which animals?”  he asked .
 
“All of them.”
 
 As Mr. Shingles raced into work, he heard the news on the car radio.  None of it was good.  He heard his own name:
 
They called him,  ”The  tough man at the top” - and left it in no doubt that the fault of the fiasco lay with him.
 
When he arrived, Mr. Shingles brushed by the cameras and reporters, and went into the zoo.   He knew that it was very dangerous to be walking among the animals, but he almost did not care if he lost his life.   His whole reputation was in ruins.
 
Then a remarkable thing happened.  A monkey came up to him and offered him his paw.  Mr. Shingles took Theo by the paw and gently shook it .  Then the animals started to return to their cages.  You see, they didn't really want to escape, they just wanted better terms and conditions. Theo turned over a rock and showed Mr. Shingles the keys from his office.  But he decided to keep the key to his own cage - the one he had stolen from Mr. Heartly - because nobody else knew that it was missing.
 
Mr. Shingles went back outside the zoo to meet the reporters.
 
“Yes, there has been a minor incident, but now all the animals have returned to their cages,” he told them .
 
“Sir, how on earth did you persuade wild creatures to do that?” asked one of the reporters.
 
“Long experience of  zoo work, and a touch of that animal magic,” he said. 

And so Mr. Shingles kept his job as the head zoo keeper  - but only just.   He had learned to respect Theo the monkey - and he swore to get his revenge.  
 
And that was the story of the Zoo that Bit Back.

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The Lovely Princess Beatrice has stayed true to her long lost prince Bertie for many a long day. But there was a time when she was seen walking in the Palace Gardens with another prince! Still worse, the Wicked Queen was determined to hold a Royal Wedding to boost the popularity ratings of the Royal Family. Bertie the Frog's hopes of being turned back into a prince and marrying Beatrice were almost dashed into a million tiny pieces.

Read by Natasha. Duration 25 minutes.

It all started like this. Bertie was sitting on his lily leaf in the sun thinking that life as a frog wasn’t all that bad, when he saw Princess Beatrice walking in the palace garden with - another man !

Right away, he recognised the scoundrel as the smarmy Prince Boris. He liked to call himself Boris the Brave, and now Bertie heard his smarmy voice saying:

“And did you ever hear about the time I fought a seven-headed sea-monster?”
“Er, no.’ said Beatrice. “But I’m suspect that I’m going to now..”

Boris started to tell a story which Bertie was certain was untrue, because anyone who has really fought a sea monster would know that they have nine heads, not seven – unless somebody had already cut two of then off, which seemed a bit unlikely.

“Oh dear,” said Bertie. “If the lovely Beatrice marries Boris, I won’t have any reason to go on living. I might as well just hop off and die.”

His only comfort came from Colin he Carp who was swimming by.

“I shouldn’t worry,” said Colin. “Beatrice looks bored silly by that Prince Boris the Boaster.”

A couple of weeks went by, and one evening Bertie saw Beatrice walking in the garden with yet another man. This time it was Prince Freddie from the next-door Kingdom. Freddie was terribly brainy at maths, and he had known Beatrice since they were both little. In fact, he used to help Beatrice with her maths homework. Bertie knew this, and he was just a tiny bit jealous that another prince had been her friend for so long.

“Freddie dear” said Beatrice.

“Ah-oh” thought Bertie. “She called him ‘dear’”. Beatrice went on:

“Do you see that frog sitting on a Lilly leaf? It’s very strange, but sometimes when I see his funny little face, I can’t help thinking of my long lost Prince Bertie”.

Freddie chuckled when he heard this: “Indeed my dear, “ he replied. “How right you are. Bertie always was a bit froggy in the face.”

Bertie was outraged when he heard this. “See here!” he called out. “When I was a prince. I didn’t look in the least bit like a frog.”

But Beatrice and Freddie couldn’t understand what he was saying. All they could hear was “croak! Croak!”, and Freddie remarked:

“Now look– you’ve hurt the little frog’s feelings because you said he looked like Prince Bertie!”

Beatrice smiled for a moment, and then said, “Oh Freddie, don’t be so cruel. You know how dear Prince Bertie is to my heart.” And they both ambled back to the palace.

For the next couple of weeks or so, Bertie didn’t see any princes stepping out into the gardens with Beatrice, and he stopped worrying about Freddie and Boris. But up in the Palace, the Wicked Queen was plotting a Royal Wedding for her step-daughter. As usual, she had her own devious reasons. The King had recently put up taxes, and the Royal Family was becoming rather unpopular. The wicked Queen thought that a Royal Romance followed by a fairy tale wedding would be just the trick to boost the royal ratings and make them popular with the people again.

“Now dear,” she said to the lovely princess Beatrice as she was brushing her hair one morning. “It’s high time you found a nice rich young prince and got married.

“But your Majesty,” cried Beatrice “Prince Bertie has disappeared and nobody knows where he is.”

“Prince Bertie!” spluttered the Queen. “You’re not still hankering after that old flame are you? Since the day he vanished, he hasn’t so much as sent you a postcard. Don’t you see that he’s forgotten all about you!”

“Forgotten me?” said Beatrice with tears in her eyes. “Oh, no he can’t have. My dear Bertie would never do that.. He’s on a top secret mission to save the country. He can’t let anyone know a thing about it. That’s what think, and I won’t believe anything different.”

“Poppycock!” cried the Queen. “Why don’t you just marry Prince Freddie. He’s got lots of money.”

“But, but Freddy’s boring.”

“Well what about Prince Boris.? He’s handsome and rich”

“But Boris boasts and tells fibs ! No, I won’t marry anyone but my dear Bertie. Not ever. I’ll wait a hundred years for him if needs be. “ And with that, Beatrice got up and ran out into the garden.

The queen was furious, because she hated Bertie, and she certainly did not have any plans to turn him back into a prince and suffer him as her son-in-law.

“He’ll be telling those unfunny jokes of his over breakfast, oh no no no, we can’t have that. And riding around on that awful skateboard. Ugh! Its so unroyal ! And besides, he doesn’t approve of my wicked spells. Bertie… He’s out of the question… But Beatrice won’t let him out her thoughts. Poor deluded girl.”

The Wicked Queen thought and thought about the problem for six whole days – but still no solution came to mind.

On the seventh day, she was having her breakfast with the King when he exclaimed:

“Oh Gosh. Oh Golly. For a moment I thought that was Bertie back from the dead!”

And he tapped his newspaper. The queen looked over his shoulder and saw a picture of Bertie – only it wasn’t actually Bertie – it was somebody else who looked just like him.

His name was Norman Crompton and until recently he lived in a castle. The newspaper reported that he had just sold his ancient home including the beautiful deer park that surrounded it. The company that had bought Crompton Castle planned to knock it down and build a multi-story car-park in its place.

The picture showed Norman cracking open a bottle of Champaign. You see, the property company had paid him a lot of money for his castle.

“His heart seems to be in the right place” remarked the queen.
“Yes, in his wallet !” Laughed the King.

Later that day, the Queen asked her chief spy to find Norman Crompton’s mobile phone number for her. When he reported back with the number, she sent him a text message;

“Hi Norman. How would you like to marry the lovely Princess Beatrice and inherit the Kingdom? All you have to do is pretend to be Prince Bertie. Yours, The Wicked Queen.”

Norman texted back right away:

“No kidding? Of course I would – just so long as Bertie doesn’t turn up.”
And the queen replied

“Don’t worry. He’s with the fishes.”
By which Norman understood that Bertie had met a watery grave – because how could he have guessed that he had been turned into a frog? That was the Queen’s closely guarded secret.

That evening, she took Beatrice into a quiet corner of the palace and whispered some very important news to her. Only it wasn’t true news, it was a pack of fibs that she had made up. She claimed that Bertie was about to come back from his top secret mission. She said that this had been told to her that morning by her chief spy-master. He was due back in exactly a month’s time, and the day after his return Beatrice would marry him.

Beatrice was so excited when she heard the news that she didn’t know what to do with herself. As soon as the Wicked Queen had left her, she ran out into the garden and down to the pond.

“Oh dear little frog!” she exclaimed to Bertie. “All this long while that Bertie has been away, I’ve poured my heart out to you. And now, do you know what? He’s coming back! Yes it’s true ! The Queen told me herself. And in a month’s time we are to be wed ! I’m so excited I just want to laugh and cry, dance and lie down, shout and keep my mouth shut, all at the same time.
“
And that’s how Bertie felt too. You see, he really believed that the wicked Queen had decided to turn him back into a prince so that he could marry Beatrice After all. You see, sometimes, when you really want something to happen with all your heart, you are ready to believe even the most unlikely fibs that people tell you.

When he told the little tadpoles about Bertie’s news, they swarmed around in circles and shouted

Yippeeeee !

Sadie the swan said, “Oh Bertie ! A true fairy tale ending. What on earth shall I wear ?”

And even Colin the Carp said,

“Congratulations”

Which is highly unusual, as he’s normally he’s ever so grumpy . Then he added”

“I don’t suppose any fish will be on the invitation list.”
The month went past terribly slowly for both Bertie and Beatrice. The day before the wedding was due to take place, Beatrice was looking out of her window when she saw a gold carriage and six white horses pull up outside the palace. And out of the carriage stepped Prince Bertie:

“Oh dear dear Bertie!” she said to herself “How I long to run and kiss your sweet face, even if it is a bit froggy like Freddie said.”

But Beatrice had been forbidden to speak to Bertie until the moment of her wedding. Both the King and Queen said it was a strict tradition and if she broke it, it would mean terrible bad luck for their future.

And Bertie also saw the golden coach arrive. And although he couldn’t see Norman step out – Elsa the Palace Cat did. She knows all the Palace Gossip and never misses a thing. She ran straight down to the pond with the news.
“Guess what Pond Life,” she murred, “The wicked queen has found somebody called Norman who looks just like Prince Bertie. Beatrice is going to marry him tomorrow and she will never know the difference.”

“I thought that something like that would happen,” said Colin. “If the Wicked Queen went to all the trouble of turning Bertie into a frog, why would she want to turn him back in a prince again? I should think that life up in the palace is much less annoying without Princes Bertie around.”

But Bertie wasn’t listening. He did not know what to do, but he knew he had to do something – so he hitched a lift back up to the Palace on Elsa’s back, and she took him all the way up to Beatrice’s door. She meowed and the Lovely Princess let her in.

“Oh Elsa, “ she said. “You’ve brought me my lucky frog. He probably wants some water. I’ll run a cold bath for him”

But Bertie didn’t fancy a cold bath. Instead, he hopped onto her dressing table and croacked his heart out. Beatrice was quite puzzled. He had seemed to glad when she had first spoken of the wedding, and now that her happiness was almost fulfilled, her frog was upset about something. If only she could understand what all his croaking was about?

That night, she could hardly sleep with excitement. In the morning the maids came in and helped her get into her wedding dress and look at her most radiant and lovely for the wedding. One of them took a broom and tried to shoe Bertie out of the bathroom, but Beatrice just managed to stop her in time before she really hurt the poor little frog. In fact, when she went down to her carriage, she ordered the maid to bring him to the wedding.

“Eee – Yuck ! “ she said as she picked him up.

Bertie had never felt so low in all his life. He felt even sadder than on the day he had been turned into a frog.

Here he was travelling in a golden carriage to his own wedding – only it wasn’t going to be HIS wedding – he was only going to watch his dear princess marry somebody called Norman who happened to look rather like him – and all because of the Wicked Queen !

As Beatrice entered the Church, the orchestra played “Here Comes the Bride”. Her Great-Uncle Prince Evan took her arm and led her down the isle to where Norman and the arch Bishop were already waiting for her. As she stood side by side with Norman in front of the alter she said ever so softly into his ear:

“Darling Bertie: It’s so wonderful that you are back. All the time you’ve been away, I’ve been wondering one thing:”

“And what was that my dear” whispered Norman, trying as best as possible to sound like Bertie. And princess Beatrice whispered

“Why didn’t the skeleton go to the party?”

“I don’t know. Why didn’t the skeleton go to the party?”

“Don’t you know? Because he had no body to go with. … alright then, which ghost has the best hearing?”

“I don’t know my dear. Which ghost does has the best hearing?”
“Why, it’s the eeriest of course!”

Just then, the Achbishop cleared his throat to get their attention. And he began the ceremenony. He asked Norman

“Do you, Bertie, take Betrice to be your lawful wedded wife.”

“And do you, Beatrice, take Bertie to love, honour and Obey”

And Beatrice replied.

“No Way!”

Why ever not? Asked the Bishop

“Because he’s not my Bertie. He’s an imposter! Guards Seize him!”

The wicked Queen jumped up and screamed”

“Guards. Do no such thing. My step-daughter’s gone out of her sweet tiny mind!
But the King said,

“No, No No. Guards Do Seize Him. ! She’s right you know – that isn’t Bertie. Whoever he is, he’s an imposter!”

And then speaking to the Queen he said,

“You See my dear: I had an inkling last night over dinner that there was something not quite right with that young man. I couldn’t put my finger on it – but now Beatrice has said he’s not Bertie – I see that she’s spot on. Do you recall him over dinner? I asked him what he had been up to while he was away, and he replied “Father, I wish I could tell you but it’s a secret.”

Well that’ was pretty strange because if there was one thing Bertie could never keep, it was a secret. And then later on, he only ate one helping of Chocolate Pudding. That was most unlike himself. I thought he must be off colour – nerves about the big day – but no, now I see that it’s because he’s not Bertie.”

And the wicked Queen was afraid that her secret would be found out. So she let the guards drag poor Norman off the palace dungeons. Later on, he escaped – but only after she turned him into a mouse.

When the guards had hauled the imposter out of the cathedral, there was a huge uproar and loads of confusion among the people. The King made a long speech to calm everyone down – in fact lots of them became very bored and either left or nodded off. While he was doing this, Beatrice spoke to her luck frog:
“Dearest little frog,” she said.

“I knew you were trying to tell me something – only I could not quite understand what it was. It was only when I stood side by side with the supposed “Prince Bertie” that I felt troubled. I sort of felt it wasn’t him. And so to make sure, I asked him two of Bertie’s favourite riddles. H