HOW THE BEAN GOT ITS BLACK SEAM

Once upon a time there was a poor old woman living in a village of a far country. She had gathered some beans and was making ready to cook them. She built a fire of sticks, but, as these were damp, they did not burn well. So she thrust in a handful of dry straw. Now the flames leaped up, and the sticks snapped and crackled in the blaze.

A live red coal flew out of the fire, fell on the ground beside a straw, and lay there smoking. Just then a bean dropped from the pot which the old woman was filling, rolled away, and came to rest close to the coal and the straw.

“Hullo, Mr. Coal,” said the straw. “How you smoke! Are you frightened? Where did you come from?”

“I just sprang out of that fire,” answered the coal. “Had I not jumped just as I did, I should now be nothing but ashes. My, look at that blaze!”

“I, too, jumped in the nick of time,” spoke up the bean. “That cruel old woman was just pouring me into the pot when I leaped over the edge, and here I am.”

“Yes, here you are, silly thing,” broke out the coal and the straw together. “But what are you going to do? As soon as the old woman turns around she will spy you, then back you’ll go into the pot. It’s hotter now than when you left it.”

“Don’t bother about me; think of yourselves,” answered the bean, angrily. “When the old woman picks me up, she’ll tread on you, Mr. Coal, and crush your life out. And you, Mrs. Straw, she’ll stick into the blaze. It’s hotter there than in the pot.”

“Come, come,” said the straw, softly, “let’s not quarrel. Let’s be friends and stick together. Perhaps we can save ourselves yet.”

“You are quite right, Mrs. Straw,” said the coal.

The bean said nothing, but she listened eagerly to the plans of the two others. These soon agreed to travel together to a far country, where they hoped to find their fortune. They set out without delay, and the bean rolled along behind.

Soon the three travelers came to a little gurgling brook. It seemed to them a mighty rushing and roaring torrent.

“Oh, dear, what shall we do now?” asked the bean, speaking for the first time since the journey began. “We can never get across these awful waters. Hear them thunder down the rocky cliffs!”

“Don’t worry, little Bean,” said the straw, proudly. “I’ll help you and Mr. Coal across in a twinkling.”

Thereupon the straw laid herself across the stream. She was just long enough to reach from bank to bank.

“Now walk over the bridge, Mr. Coal and Miss Bean,” called the straw.

The coal hastened on to the straw bridge while the bean watched in wonder. All went well until the middle of the stream was reached, when the bridge bent so low under the weight of the coal and the waters thundered so loudly that the coal stopped in fright.

The coal stood still for only a moment. But, alas, that was a moment too long.

The dry straw smoked, burst into a tiny flame, and broke in two. Down fell the coal into the water below and was instantly drowned. The burning straw bridge also fell into the water, which put out the flames, and the two pieces of straw went floating away down stream.

All this the little bean saw, watching safely from the bank. And she thought it the funniest thing that ever happened. So she laughed and she laughed—until she burst!

This would have been the end of little Miss Bean, had not a tailor passed that way just then. He was sorry for the poor bean, so he picked up the two parts tenderly, and quickly sewed them together. But the thread that he used was black. And ever since that time some beans have a black seam around them.