Once upon a time there lived an old fisherman. Early in the morning he would go down to the river and sit there fishing all day. And in the evening, when he counted his catch, there never would be more than a fish or two. He sold the fish in the market and bought a little food for himself and his wife. And almost every day they went to bed half hungry.

"Let me pass," said Fortune.

Reason was inexperienced and did not know who should go first and said: "Why should I let you pass? You are not better than me."

Once upon a time, there was a very poor blacksmith whose worldly possessions were a tumbledown cottage, a wife, a troop of hungry children, and otherwise nothing but seven pence. So with these seven pence he bought himself a stout rope, and went into the forest to hang himself.

Once upon a time, and a very good time it was, though it wasn't in my time, nor in your time, nor any one else's time, there was a young lad of eighteen or so named Tom Tiver working on the Hall Farm. One Sunday he was walking across the west field, 't was a beautiful July night, warm and still and the air was full of little sounds as though the trees and grass were chattering to themselves.