How to Fool a Cat
Page 3
The next day, Jisama went to the hill and smeared sticky pine gum on the stump. Then he sang,
One bean become a thousand beans.
Two beans become ten thousand beans.
One bean become a thousand beans.
Two beans become ten thousand beans.
Tanuki appeared and sat on the stump. It sang,
One bean is one bean. If the wind blows, the
bean will be spoiled.
Two beans are two beans. If the birds eat
them, the beans will be spoiled.
But today, Jisama ignored Tanuki and sang,
One bean become a thousand beans.
Two beans become ten thousand beans.
Jisama thought, “Not yet. Wait a minute, he has not yet stuck.” He sang,
One bean become a thousand beans.
Two beans become ten thousand beans.
Tanuki didn’t know it was a trap, and sang happily,
One bean is one bean. If the wind blows, the
bean will be spoiled.
Two beans are two beans. If the birds eat
them, the beans will be spoiled.
Jisama slowly crept nearer, still singing,
One bean become a thousand beans.
Two beans become ten thousand beans.
One bean become a thousand beans.
Two beans become ten thousand beans.
“AHA!!” Jisama caught Tanuki by one arm and took it to the cabin.
That evening, they ate tanuki soup.
Oshimai
COMMENT FROM FUJITA-SAN: When farmers planted in the old days, they considered not only themselves but also all creation and the god of the mountain. I like that idea. And as I tell this story I want to convey the farmer’s wish that one bean will turn into a thousand.
TIP FROM FRAN: This story has little plot, so you must repeat Jisama’s words and Tanuki’s words comically to hold listeners’ interest. Watching them, you can increase or decrease the number of repeats.
The contrast between Tanuki running quickly and Jisama staggering after him makes the story more funny. But if you make Tanuki too cute, some children will worry about the ending of the story. So you had better make Tanuki hateful, so that the listener will sympathize with the farmer.
When I tell this story, some listeners said it’s a pity to kill Tanuki. But this Tanuki disturbed the farmer’s work, so his fate was inevitable. You don’t need to emphasize that part, just end the story simply.
Bragging Rabbit
Rabbits can speak, but they seldom do. I’ll tell you why.
In the time when rabbits were still very talkative, there was a rabbit who liked to brag how fast he could run. One day he gathered his friends and talked like this:
“Yesterday, I went to the woods and ran into a wolf. But he was slower than me. When I hopped, he couldn’t catch me. I ran and ran. He gave up and went back wearily.
“Hey, are you listening? Another time I went to the woods, and a wild dog chased me. But you know he was no match for me. I hopped and hopped. The best he could do was to follow me. You say wild dogs are fast, but they can’t beat me. My fellow rabbits, keep listening to my stories!”
After a while, the other rabbits started to wiggle their ears. One whispered, “I hear something strange.”
Pita, pita. (sound of something sneaking up)
“I hear something too.”
The bragging rabbit insisted, “Oh, it’s nothing. You have to listen to me. The other day, I went to the woods, and walked up right in front of a wolf, on purpose! I flitted in front of him for a while, and ran away. He chased me with all his might, but couldn’t catch me.”
Pita, pita.
“I hear something.”
“So do I.”
The rabbit kept bragging. “Oh, it’s nothing. You have to listen to me.”
His friends wriggled their noses, sniff, sniff. “I smell something.”
“I hear something.”
The bragging rabbit didn’t listen. “Oh, don’t worry about it. You have to listen to me. Sshh! Silence, please! Here’s another one. The other day . . .” he kept talking.
Hita, hita. (another creeping sound)
Something was coming toward them. His fellow rabbits heard it, turned around, and darted off.
Then bragging rabbit turned around, too, and looked behind him.
But a wolf was already right there—and ate him up.
After that, the rabbits have passed down this advice from generation to generation:
“Talking is bad luck. We should not talk. Instead we should listen. Never talk, even if you want to.”
So today, rabbits can talk if they must, but they don’t, because it’s bad luck.
Oshimai
COMMENT FROM FUJITA-SAN: I suppose people in the old days made up this story as they saw a rabbit mumbling its mouth. It is fun to imagine that quiet rabbits are in fact talkative.
VILLAGE PEOPLE
Mole, Long Ago.
INSIGHT: Mochi is made by pounding steamed rice into a smooth dough in a mortar, then shaping it into cakes. Making it takes many people working together, like an old-fashioned taffy pull in the U.S. So mochi-making was usually done when friends and neighbors gathered to celebrate special happy times like the New Year, weddings, or new babies. Mochi goes with fun!
A long, long time ago, there lived an old man, Jisama, and an old woman, Basama.
One day, Jisama went to work on the mountain where he collected firewood. As usual, Basama made yakimeshi for Jisama to take with him.
Yakimeshi is the old style of rice ball, each one as big as a baby’s head. You take a bowl, heap it up with rice. You take another bowl, heap it up with cooked rice. You press these bowls together to make a big ball of rice. Now, you squeeze the ball with your hands, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze. Then you toast it over the fire, coat it with miso (a salty, savory seasoning) and toast it again. When the yakimeshi is done, you wrap it up in a big leaf. It makes a very tasty lunch.
Jisama brought three of those yakimeshi to the mountain with him.
After working for several hours, he said, “The sun is up high in the middle of the sky. It’s time for lunch.” He sat on a tree stump and took out one of the yakimeshi. He was about to bite it when the yakimeshi fell from his hand and started to roll down the mountain.
Jisama ran after it. “Wait, yakimeshi! Wait, yakimeshi! Wait, wait, wait!” But the yakimeshi went rolling down, rolling, rolling.
It waited for Jisama for a while. But when Jisama came closer, it went rolling down again.
Jisama came closer, yakimeshi went rolling. “Wait, yakimeshi! Wait, yakimeshi!”
Jisama chased his yakimeshi. Yakimeshi waited for him for a while, and started rolling down again. Jisama ran and ran.
There happened to be a big hole in the ground. Finally the yakimeshi rolled down, down into that big hole.
“My yakimeshi is gone. Now what can I do? I can’t follow it into this hole, can I?”
Then he heard a song coming from the hole. It went like this:
PET-tara PET-tan, PET-tara PET-tan (sound
of pounding mochi dough in a mortar)
When there is no cat, mice make mochi.
PET-tara PET-tan, PET-tara PET-tan
For one hundred years, for two hundred years,
We don’t want to hear meow.
PET-tara PET-tan, PET-tara PET-tan
Our grandchildren, great grandchildren,
They don’t want to hear meow.
PET-tara PET-tan, PET-tara PET-tan
“What fun, what fun! I want to hear that song again.” So Jisama threw his second yakimeshi down into the hole. There came that lovely song again:
PET-tara PET-tan, PET-tara PET-tan
When there is no cat, mice make mochi.
PET-tara PET-tan, PET-tara PET-tan
For one hundred years, for two hundred years,
We don’t want to hear meow.
PET-tara PET
-tan, PET-tara PET-tan
Our grandchildren, great grandchildren,
They don’t want to hear meow.
PET-tara PET-tan, PET-tara PET-tan
“What a funny song! I want to hear it again.” Jisama threw his last yakimeshi down into the hole. It went down, down . . . and there came once again that song:
PET-tara PET-tan, PET-tara PET-tan
When there is no cat, mice make mochi.
PET-tara PET-tan, PET-tara PET-tan
For one hundred years, for two hundred years,
We don’t want to hear meow.
PET-tara PET-tan, PET-tara PET-tan
Our grandchildren, great grandchildren,
They don’t want to hear meow.
PET-tara PET-tan, PET-tara PET-tan
Jisama enjoyed the song so much that he pressed his ear close to the hole, bending so far down that his head was almost in the hole. Suddenly he started to fall into the hole!
Down, down, down he went. When he reached the bottom, he found himself in a large underground room. There he saw a lot of mice pounding rice and making mochi.
“What fun! What fun! Mice are making mochi.”
Because the mice were singing, “We don’t want to hear meow,” Jisama thought, “I see. I shall never say meow here.”
He quietly watched the mice make mochi. When they finished, they said to him, “Jisama, Jisama, thank you very much for your three big yakimeshi. We made miso-mochi with them. Please have some.”
So Jisama ate the mochi. After a while, he said, “Oh, I’m so full. Thank you so much.”
The mice said, “Then put some in this box and take it home with you for Basama.
Jisama put mochi in the box and asked, “Now how can I get out of this hole?”
The largest mouse of all said, “Jisama, Jisama, hold onto my tail and close your eyes.”
Jisama held onto the tail of the mouse and closed his eyes as he was told. He felt a whistling wind and opened his eyes.
He was at the porch of his house, where Basama was waiting for him.
Jisama told Basama what had happened and gave her those miso-mochi.
Just then another old woman, their next-door neighbor, came over saying, “Can I have a light? My kitchen fire has gone out.”
She slid their door open and saw those delicious miso-mochi.
“Oh my! Where did you get that miso-mochi?” she asked.
Jisama told her, “I went to the mountain, and so and so. I met mice making mochi and ate there. They even gave me some for Basama.”
This neighbor lady hurried home and told her husband, “I’ll make some yakimeshi for you. You’re going to the mountain.” She made yakimeshi in a hurry, and kicked her husband out with three yakimeshi.
He went to the mountain and looked for a hole. He found one, took one of his yakimeshi and threw it into the hole. Out came the sound,
PET-tara PET-tan, PET-tara PET-tan
“What fun! What fun! Here goes the second one,” he said and threw the second one.
PET-tara PET-tan, PET-tara PET-tan
He threw the third one and heard the song for the third time. He poked his head into the hole and started to fall down. He fell down to the bottom and saw mice making mochi.
PET-tara PET-tan, PET-tara PET-tan
When there is no cat, mice make mochi.
PET-tara PET-tan, PET-tara PET-tan
For one hundred years, for two hundred years,
We don’t want to hear meow.
PET-tara PET-tan, PET-tara PET-tan
Our grandchildren, great grandchildren,
They don’t want to hear meow.
PET-tara PET-tan, PET-tara PET-tan
He heard this and thought, “Well, if I say meow here, those mice will run away and all those mochi will be mine. All right, I will say it now.” He went, “NNYYAAAAA-UUUUU! (Meow!)”
At that sound, all the mice scampered away.
Complete darkness fell.
This man cried in the darkness, “Where is the mortar? Where are the mochi?” He tried to find them, but could not feel anything, nor could he find the way out.
He dug this way. He dug that way.
“Which way is the way out? How can I get out?”
He dug and dug. His hands became larger. His nails grew long.
His mouth became pointed and turned into a muzzle.
Finally, he became a mole.
He is still in the ground.
“Which way is the way out? How can I get out?” he still cries, and tunnels this way and that way underground.
Oshimai
NOTE FROM FRAN: When I showed Mrs. Fujita the mole tunnels destroying my vegetable garden, she told me this story. Moles are not nice characters.
A Name for the Cat
Once upon a time, there lived Jisama and Basama. One day, Jisama brought home a cute kitten from their neighbor.
“Basama, Basama, look at this. I brought home a kitten for us.”
“Oh, what a cute kitten! He has stripes like a tiger. Let’s name him Tiger so that he will grow as strong as a tiger.”
Jisama thought Basama was right, so he told the kitten. “Cat, cat, your name is Tiger. You understand?”
“Nya-u (Meow).”
Soon after, Basama came to Jisama. “Jisama, Jisama, tigers are strong. But now I remember that dragons are stronger. And dragons can fly in the sky. Dragons are better and stronger. Let’s name him Dragon.”
Jisama thought Basama was right, so he told Tiger, “Cat, cat, your name is now Dragon. You understand?”
“Nya-u.”
Soon after, Basama came to Jisama again. “Jisama, Jisama, dragons are strong. But when they fly in the sky, they need the help of clouds. Clouds are stronger. Let’s name him Cloud.”
Jisama thought Basama was right, so he told Dragon, “Cat, cat, your name is Cloud. You understand?”
“Nya-u.”
Soon after, Basama came to Jisama again. “Jisama, Jisama, look at the sky. Clouds just float in the sky. When the wind blows, it scatters them away. Wind is stronger.”
Jisama thought Basama was right, and told Cloud, “Cat, cat, your name is Wind. You understand?”
“Nya-u.”
Then suddenly a strong wind blew.
Jisama said, “Oh, it’s cold. Basama, close the door. Close the door.”
Basama closed the door. The wind stopped. “Oh, oh, I thought wind was strong, but when I closed the door, the wind couldn’t come in. Door is stronger, Jisama.”
Jisama thought Basama was right, so he told Wind, “Cat, cat, your name is Door. You understand?”
“Nya-u.”
But when they looked at the door closely, they found a hole at the corner. A mouse hole!
“Jisama, Jisama, I thought doors are strong. But mice are stronger. They can nibble holes in the door. Mice are stronger.”
Jisama thought Basama was right, so he told Door, “Cat, cat, your name is Mouse. You understand?”
“Nya-u.”
Then Basama said, “Jisama, Jisama, mice are strong. But cats are stronger still.”
Jisama thought Basama was right, so he told Mouse, “Cat, cat, your name is Cat. You understand?”
“Nya-u.”
So, that cat was named Cat. And it was a very suitable name.
Oshimai.
TIP FROM FRAN: Young listeners like to help the kitten say “Nya-u.” This story is ideal for beginning storytellers to practice playing a story. While two partners take the roles of Jisama and Basama, a shy classmate can be the kitten and delight audiences by reacting to the different names.
Nyau
Once upon a time, there lived a very poor man. He fell in love with the daughter of a very rich family. That young woman liked him, but she was an only daughter. It seemed impossible for them to marry, however much they wished to.
But he couldn’t forget her. He decided to go to her father and ask for her anyway.
“Please, I would like to mar
ry your daughter. Please give your permission,” he begged and begged.
Her father was not a bad man, but he just couldn’t say “Yes.”
“I didn’t raise my daughter to marry such a poor man as you. Even if I gave my permission, your life together would be a disaster for both of you. I’m not a mean man. But I know that you and my daughter are nyau wa nai (not suitable). You had better give her up.”
Her father told this to the young man many, many times. But he just couldn’t forget her. Day after day, he visited her father and asked him, “I want to marry her. Please give permission. Please, let us marry.”
The father always replied, “Nyau wa nai.”
At last her father, half with amazement and half with pity, told the young man, “All right. I don’t think you will make a suitable couple, but if any member of my family thinks that you will, I will give you my permission.”
So the father asked his own father, “Jisama, Jisama, do you think that my daughter and this young man will make a suitable couple?”
“Nyau wa nai, nyau wa nai. I don’t think they are a suitable match.”
Next, the man asked his mother, “Basama, Basama, do you think that my daughter and this young man will make a suitable couple?”
“Nyau wa nai, nyau wa nai,” his mother replied.
Next he asked his wife, “Wife, wife, do you think that our daughter and this young man will make a suitable couple?”
“Nyau wa nai, nyau wa nai.”
He asked his brother. His brother replied, “Nyau wa nai, nyau wa nai.”
He asked his son. His son replied, “Nyau wa nai, nyau wa nai.”
He asked everybody else in his family, and they all replied, “Nyau wa nai, nyau wa nai.”