When he had his fee, he said, “This illness is usually caused by a wrong the patient has done to mankind. If you are guilty, the only way to be cured is to repent of your misconduct. Then go west of Gainesville to the Devil’s Millhopper. Due south of this sinkhole is a large moss-draped oak tree. It is beneath this tree that the sand-elves frolic, beginning at midnight, the first night of the full moon. They like to be entertained. If you dance for them, and they are pleased with your performance, they may grant you a cure. But remember, you must dance your best, as they do not like second-rate entertainment.”
This was not what Molly expected or wanted to hear. But she had no other choice but to follow his instructions.
The evening of the full moon, she made her way to the Devil’s Millhopper and found the tree. The place gave her the fidgets. She paced the ground and then climbed the tree to hide in the moss and foliage.
At the stroke of midnight, she heard little voices. Looking down, she could see little sand-elves clambering over the rim of the sinkhole like ants over an anthill. Soon she heard music and laughter. She grew so eager to see what was going on that she gave her presence away.
The sand-elves stopped. Molly felt that her heart stopped too. Then one of them called out: “Whoever is in our tree, come down at once, or we must come up and get you.”
Molly started climbing down, but she was so nervous that she slipped from the bottom limb and plopped down on the ground in a most awkward manner. She picked herself up, brushed the sand from her jeans and stood there looking and feeling most awkward and foolish.
“Well,” said the spokesman, “who are you, and what are you doing here?”
At this point, Molly wondered the same thing, but she got her thoughts together and told them her sad story. She told them how she was a dancer who was now so disfigured that she was unable to work. And explained how she had spent all of her money on doctors and that one had told her to come there to ask them for a cure.
“We will see about that. First, you must dance for us. Should your dancing please us, we may be able to do something, but if you dance poorly, we will punish you for interrupting our frolic-night. Take that warning, and dance away!”
After saying that, he and all the other elves sat in a large ring. Molly had not practiced her dancing in weeks. She was in no mood to perform, but the sand-elves refused to humor her.
“Begin!” shouted their leader, and “Begin! Begin!” shouted the rest in chorus.
In desperation Molly began. She first tried a ballet routine, but that didn’t go well. Then she did a clogging step or two from one of her work routines, but her heart was not in it. She flopped down on the ground and said she could dance no more.
The sand-elves were angry. They crowded around her and cried out, “Come here to be cured, indeed! You’ve come here with one big cheek, but you’ll go home with two. Between the two there will be no difference — no difference at all!”
The road home was long for Molly, and she fell into bed. It was noon the next day before she had the courage to look in the mirror. It was true, there was no difference, no difference at all — not between her two cheeks. Both were swollen so she could scarcely see.
Molly was angry with the sand-elves. She was angry with Buddy Boy. She was angry with the world. She was so angry, she was ill.
It was several days before she admitted it was she, not the world, who was out of step. She made up her mind to put her life back in order. She started practicing her dancing. Hour after hour, day after day, she practiced. The next full moon, she made her way back to the Devil’s Millhopper. She sat under the sand-elves’ frolic-tree. Everything seemed peaceful and in harmony. She became conscious of the myriad of stars twinkling above and the luminous moon bathing the night with splendor. She listened to the night sounds, the murmuring of the breezes and the gurgling of the underground river where it surfaced at the bottom of the sinkhole, and realized just how wrong she had been to think that what she did made no difference. She was remorseful and determined never again to choose to break laws, of man or nature.
Tonight, when the sand-elves came scrambling over the rim of the sinkhole, Molly ran over to the leader. She begged so hard to be given another chance that he gave it to her. This time, when the elves were seated, she did not wait for them to tell her to begin. She started right in with an interpretive ballet of the mockingbird’s song, moved into the Charleston with the rhythm of the gurgling sound from the bottom of the sinkhole, and the frogs gave the beat for the clogging routine that brought the sand-elves to their feet.
They clapped their tiny hands and shouted, “Go! Go! Go! Dance more, for we are pleased.” And so Molly danced until she dropped to the ground and could dance no more.
Then the leader of the sand-elves said, “We are well pleased and as a reward your face is cured.” With these words, the sand-elves vanished.
Molly’s way home seemed short. She looked in the mirror and cried with joy to see her face normal again.
When she removed the cover from Buddy Boy’s cage, he again cocked his head from one side to the other, calling out, “No difference! No difference at all!”
“Buddy Boy,” Molly said, “I have news for you. You are still wrong — very wrong! No matter how ordinary and insignificant a person is, it does make a difference what she does.”
Telling Time: 14-15 minutes
Audience: 4th grade - adult
Teenagers relate to this story and enjoy it in spite of the presence of the sand elves. the mechanical sound of a talking bird is simple to imitate and adds a bit of authenticity to the story. As a natural wonder Silver Springs, for all its beauty and fame, cannot equal the Devil’s Millhopper — a great bowl one hundred feet deep with a rare combination of vegetation growing in it and an underground river surfaced at the bottom. Part of its beauty is the lack of commercialism which also contributes to its obscurity. This story will whet the appetite of those who are interested in exploring romantic and historical Florida.
The Christmas Groom
Daytona was just a small settlement, and the railroad had not reached Ormond. In fact, it was still known as New Britain Colony when John McCormick was washed out to sea and drowned.
His widow and young daughter Hannah lived on in the sturdy cabin he had built overlooking the Halifax River. Widow McCormick was energetic and resourceful. Who but a woman of her caliber would think of replacing the rusted-out screens with the good corners of worn sheets? The ocean breezes came through them, and the insects did not. It did limit their view of the outside, but they didn’t spend much time inside the cabin during the day.
Hannah was beautiful in body and spirit. She and her mother were greatly admired and loved by all who knew them, and the folks in the settlement of Daytona were proud to claim them as their own, even though the McCormick cabin was a good ways down the river.
At the close of every war, Florida gets an influx of people, including drifters, and the Civil War was no exception. Among them was Sneaky Sam, a man with a title he had earned. He had only been in Daytona a few days when he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She was selling Christmas greenery, herbs, and spices. On inquiry, he learned that she was the unwed daughter of the widow McCormick, and, right then and there, he decided that, come what may, he was going to have that beauty as his own. That evening Sneaky Sam “borrowed” a small boat and drifted down the river to the McCormick cabin. He heard someone talking, and he stopped to listen. The voice was coming from the cabin and seemed to be that of the widow McCormick as she prayed.
After lengthy supplications for all the sick and afflicted, Sneaky Sam heard her say, “Dear God and Lord of all, my needs are few. You have graciously provided our daily bread, for which we are thankful, and although you saw fit to take John, you have given me a loving and good daughter. She has been a balm to my soul, but I am now growing old, and I would ask of you, Dear Lord, send a man who will love and provide for her.”
Sneaky Sam was no
t slow in seizing this opportunity. Quickly he hid in an empty rain barrel which was close by the window and, in as deep and awesome a voice as he could muster, said, “Widow McCormick, my good and faithful servant, I have seen your good works and heard your prayers. I am going to reward you accordingly.
“On Christmas day, a man driving a white horse will come for your faithful daughter. Prepare for his coming and accept him as a gift from me, for I have chosen him to be her husband.”
The McCormicks were ecstatic; God had spoken to them. But there was no time to go into the settlement to share the news. The days before Christmas were few and must be filled with cleaning, cooking, decorating, and planning, for God’s chosen was to be their guest, come Christmas day.
As for Sneaky Sam, he felt pleased with his plan, except that he didn’t own a white horse and didn’t know where he could borrow one. He felt like kicking himself for being so specific. But, he was not to be outdone. When all other resources were exhausted, he got up early Christmas morning and whitewashed his old nag, borrowed a buck-board, and then, dressed in some borrowed clothes, he made his way out to the McCormick cabin. There he accepted their gracious hospitality in true con-man style.
Hannah was filled with disappointment, misgivings, and fears. This made her feel that she was being an ingrate, and she begged God to forgive her.
Sneaky Sam, not wanting to linger, announced that he had been sent by God to take Hannah as his own. And when Widow McCormick offered to send for the parson to perform the marriage rites, he scoffed at the idea. “Why should mere man mumble words for our union. We are married in God’s sight so what more need we ask?”
Widow McCormick was a prudent woman, and found it difficult to accept Sam and his arrangements at face value, but she consoled herself with the assurance that God does work in great and mysterious ways. She set about gathering up things to help them set up housekeeping. Everything was packed into a large, strong chest made of bamboo which Hannah’s father had found washed up on the beach the day she was born.
When the chest was loaded on the back of the buckboard, Hannah kissed her mother and climbed aboard.
Sneaky Sam, feeling that his much-desired prize was in his hands, rushed his old horse. It was a warm, humid day and the old nag started to sweat — something Sneaky Sam had not bargained for — and the sweat started removing the whitewash.
Hannah was quiet, but Sneaky Sam knew she was no one’s fool. He also knew the high esteem in which the folks in the settlement held Hannah and her mother. He became aware that if she screamed “foul,” those people would “tar and feather” him and ride him out of the country on a greased pole. He thought about the dirty little tumbled-down, lean-to shack he was taking her to, and decided he’d better make some different arrangements.
“My darling Hannah,” he said, “I have a gift for you. A very special gift. I want you to close your eyes while I give it to you.”
Hannah closed her eyes.
“It is so important that you have your eyes closed when I give you this gift, and you may forget and open them. Here, let me take these things out of this chest, and you get in there.”
Obediently, Hannah climbed into the chest. Quickly, Sam closed and locked the lid, pulled the chest off the buckboard and, leaving Hannah locked in the chest at the edge of the trail, rushed into the settlement to take care of the details he deemed necessary. He went by the general store and bought nails and a lock. He went to the shack and nailed up the back door and both windows. He climbed up on a nail keg and put the lock high on the inside of the front door. He returned the borrowed clothes and spread the word all around that he was bringing his bride home and that “like most women, she is a little excitable, and may get carried away, and even scream, but she will calm down in a day or two. So, if you will, just be a good neighbor, and turn a deaf ear to any noise you hear coming from my place.”
While Sam was making his last-minute arrangements, a nobleman, by birth and character, was returning to St. Augustine with his hunting party and a Florida panther they had captured. He saw the deserted bamboo chest and asked one of his servants to open it. When the young nobleman saw the beautiful Hannah, he rubbed his eyes, for he was sure he must be looking at an angel. When Hannah saw the handsome hunter, seated on his beautiful white steed, she thanked God for keeping his promise. She told the nobleman how Sneaky Sam had come as a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“The man should be duly rewarded for his efforts,” said the nobleman, who then told his servants to put the Florida panther from the cage into the bamboo chest and close and re-lock the lid.
The nobleman took Hannah back to her home, where they were properly married. The nobleman said that he would not think of leaving the widow McCormick there alone; that she must go with them so he could properly protect and care for her. It was a tired but happy wedding party that arrived in St. Augustine, where they lived happily ever after.
And Sneaky Sam? He went back and retrieved the bamboo chest. It was dark when he arrived at his place. He dragged the chest in, climbed up and locked the door, then kicked the keg to one side. He then made his way, in the dark, to the chest, and unlocked the lid. The neighbors did hear some scary screams, and even some pleas for help, which sounded more like a man than a woman, but being good neighbors, they honored Sam’s request. They smirked and smiled, but turned a deaf ear to the noise coming from Sam’s place.
Telling time: 15 minutes
Audience: 3rd grade - great, great grandparents
Although this story smacks of a fairy tale, it is thoroughly enjoyed by adult men and women — anyone who enjoys hearing how a cheater gets what he deserves.
The Boot
The owl is often misquoted as asking the question “Who?” The next time you hear an owl, listen carefully and note that he is making the statement, “It’s true!” For once, deep in the Everglades, where the wild beasts lived, there lay a man’s boot. How it came to be there is hard to say, for no man had ever been there; at least, the beasts there had never seen one. But there was the boot, and when the beasts saw it, they all gathered round to find out what it was. Such a thing was new to them, but they were all ready to show off their wisdom with an explanation.
“Well, I say, there’s no doubt what it is,” said the bear.
“Oh, of course not,” said the panther, and the alligator, and all the beasts and birds.
“Why, there is no doubt,” continued the bear, “that it is the rind of some kind of fruit from a tree. The fruit of the cork tree, I should say. This is cork. It is plain to see,” and he showed the sole of the boot.
“Oh! Just hear him!” laughed the raccoon.
“Yeah, just hear him!” cried all the beasts and birds.
“It’s not that at all!” said the panther with a glance of scorn at the bear. “Anyone with an iota of common sense would know that it is some kind of nest. Look! Here is the hole for the bird to go in, and here is the deep part for the eggs and young ones to be safe. No doubt at all, I would say!”
“My friend,” said the raccoon, “while there is some reason for your conclusion, it is plain to me that a nest it was never meant to be.”
“I should say not,” shouted the birds. “It is not that at all.”
“I should think not,” cried the alligator, as he pushed aside the sawgrass to get in a more prestigious position. “It is plain to me that it is some kind of plant. Look at this long root,” and he showed the lace at the side of the boot. “This is the root of a plant. There’s no doubt about it! It is a plant!”
“Not at all!” cried the panther and the bear.
“A plant, I know,” declared the deer, who had had little to say, “and a plant it is not!”
All the birds and beasts again chimed in. “No plant!” “No plant at all!” “Why we can see!” “A root? Never!”
“If I might speak,” said an old owl, who sat in a tree. “I can tell you what it is. For I have been in a land where there are more of such thing
s than you can count. It is a man’s boot.”
“A what?” cried all the beasts and birds. “What is a man?” “And what is a boot?”
“A man,” said the owl, “well, a man is an animal with two legs, that can walk, run, eat, and talk as we can, but he can do much more than we can.”
“Pooh! Pooh! What a ridiculous lie,” said the turtle, and pulled his head back into his shell.
“That can’t be true!” said the beasts. “How can an animal with only two legs do more than we can who have four? It is false, to be sure.”
“Of course it is, if they have no wings,” said the birds.
“Well,” answered the owl. “They have no wings, and yet, it is true. They can make things like this, and they call them boots, and wear them on their feet.”
“Well, that last statement made a firm disbeliever of me,” said the opossum.
Then all the birds and beasts cried out, “How do you expect us to believe such an outrageous tale?”
“Such a stupid lie!” screamed the panther.
“Can do more than we can, humph!” growled the bear.
“Wear such things on their feet? How ridiculous!” grunted the alligator.
“Not true! Not true!” they all cried. “It is obvious that what you say is not true. We weren’t born yesterday, and we’re nobody’s fools, and we know what you say is not true! We know that such things are not worn on the feet!”
“Of course, they could not be!” cried the panther.
“It is completely false!” said the bear.
“It is false,” cried all the birds and beasts. “Owl, what you say cannot be true! You have knowingly told us a stupid lie; therefore, you are no longer fit to live among us.” And they chased the owl from the Everglades.
“It’s true! It’s true!” said the owl as he flew away, and he still declares it to be so, both in and out of the Everglades.
Tellable Cracker Tales Page 3