Cozy Edition: The Tale of Peter Rabbit and Aesop's Fables

Snuggle up and get ready to drift off to sleep. In this cozy edition of The Tale of Peter Rabbit, the story is read slowly and at an even pace, giving readers a calm reading experience as they drift off to sleep. This week we join Peter Rabbit on his adventures through Mr. McGregor's garden. Following, The Tale of Peter Rabbit, Rae Wilson reads three of Aesop's fables (The Goose & the Golden Egg, The Fox & the Grapes, The Ants & the Grasshopper) and shares the moral of each story. While parenting styles and social norms have changed since these stories were written, the morals of each story are timeless. Each story is read twice, helping readers rest assured that there's no need to stay awake in case they miss something.

Click here to read and revisit the fables after you wake up

Music in this episode is created by:

"Windswept" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

"A Very Brady Special" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Transcript

SPEAKER_11 0:00

Welcome to Forget Me Not Fairy Tales Bedtime Edition. Classic stories for book lovers of all ages. Don't worry about missing the action. Just let your mind and body relax. Each story is read slowly and softly, two times, with soothing sounds to help you drift off to sleep. Before we start our story, let's prepare both mind and body. It's time to let your mind be calm and let your body relax. Breathe in and exhale. Relax your mind. Relax your body. Place your worries or busy thoughts in my box. I'll hold them for you. Let sleep wrap around you like a warm, gentle o. It's your time to unwind, to let go and enjoy the good story. Let's begin The Tale of Peter Rabbit Written and illustrated by Beatrix Potter. Once upon a time there were four little rabbits, and their names were Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Peter. They lived with their mother in a sandbank underneath the root of a very big fir tree. Now my dears, said old Mrs. Rabbit one morning, you may go into the fields or down the lane, but don't go into mister McGregor's garden. Your father had an accident there. He was put in a pie by misses McGregor. Now run along and don't get into mischief. I am going out. Then old misses Rabbit took a basket and her umbrella and went through the wood to the baker's. She bought a loaf of brown bread and five current buns. Went down the lane to gather blackberries. But Peter, who was very naughty, ran straight away to Mr. McGregor's garden and squeezed under the gate. And then he ate some radishes. And then feeling rather sick, he went to look for some parsley. But round the end of a cucumber frame, whom should he meet but Mr. McGregor? Mr McGregor was on his hands and knees planting out young cabbages. But he jumped up and ran after Peter, waving a rake and calling out Stop these. Peter was most dreadfully frightened. He rushed all over the garden, for he had forgotten the way back to the gate. He lost one of his shoes among the cabbages and the other shoe amongst the potatoes. After losing them, he ran on four legs and went faster so that I think he might have got away altogether if he had not unfortunately run into a gooseberry net and got caught by the large buttons on his jacket. It was a blue jacket with brass buttons quite new. Peter gave himself up for loss and shed big tears, but his sobs were overheard by some friendly sparrows who flew to him in great excitement and implored him to exert himself. Mr McGregor came up with a sieve, which he intended to pop upon the top of Peter. But Peter wriggled out just in time, leaving his jacket behind him and rushed into the tool shed and jumped into a can. It would have been a beautiful thing to hide in if it had not had so much water in it. Mr McGregor was quite sure that Peter was somewhere in the tool shed, perhaps hidden underneath a flower pot. He began to turn them over carefully, looking under each.

SPEAKER_02 9:13

Presently Peter sneezed Ah curdshoo.

SPEAKER_11 9:22

Mr McGregor was after him in no time. Anne tried to put his foot upon Peter, who jumped out of a window, upsetting three plants. The window was too small for Mr. McGregor, and he was tired of running after Peter. He went back to his work. Peter sat down to rest. He was out of breath and trembling with fright. And he had not the least idea which way to go. Also, he was very damp with sitting in that can. After a time he began to wander about going lippity lippity, not very fast, and looking all around. He found a door in a wall, but it was locked, and there was no room for a fat little rabbit to squeeze underneath. An old mouse was running in and out over the stone doorsteps, carrying peas and beans to her family in the wood. Peter asked her the way to the gate, but she had such a large pea in her mouth that she could not answer. She only shook her head at him. Peter began to cry. Then he tried to find his way straight across the garden, but he became more and more puzzled. Presently he came to a pond where mister McGregor filled his water cans. A white cat was staring at some goldfish. She sat very, very still, but now and then the tip of her tail twitched as if it were alive. Peter thought it best to go away without speaking to her. He had heard about cats from his cousin, Little Benjamin Bunny. He went back towards the tool shed, but suddenly quite close to him, he heard the noise of a hole. Scritch, scratch, scratch, scritch. Peter scuttered underneath the bushes. But presently, as nothing happened, he came out and climbed upon a wheelbarrow and peeped over. The first thing he saw was Mr. McGregor holding onions. His back was turned towards Peter and beyond him was the gate. Peter got down very quietly off the wheelbarrow and started running as fast as he could go along a straight walk behind some black currant bushes. Mr. McGregor caught sight of him at the corner, but Peter did not care. He slipped underneath the gate and was safe at last in the wood outside the garden. Mr McGregor hung up the little jacket and the shoes for a scarecrow to frighten the blackbirds. Peter never stopped running or looked behind him till he got home to the big fir tree. He was so tired that he flopped down upon the nice soft sand on the floor of the rabbit hole and shut his eyes. His mother was busy cooking. She wondered what he had done with his clothes. It was the second little jacket and pair of shoes that Peter had lost in a fortnight. I am sorry to say that Peter was not very well during the evening. His mother put him to bed and made some chamomile tea. And she gave a dose of it to Peter. One tablespoon to be taken at bedtime. But Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail had bread and milk and blackberries for supper. One moral of this story is don't go looking for mischief. Looking for trouble could be more of a hassle than it's worth. It can cause more problems and you might miss out on other fun things. It's time for Aesop's Bables. The Goose and the Golden Egg. There was once a countryman who possessed the most wonderful goose. You can imagine. For every day when he visited the nest, the goose had laid a beautiful glittering golden egg. The countryman took the eggs to market and soon began to get rich. But it was not long before he grew impatient with the goose because she gave him only a single golden egg a day. He was not getting rich fast enough. Then one day, after he had finished counting his money, the idea came to him that he could get all the golden eggs at once by killing the goose and cutting it open. But when the deed was done, not a single golden egg did he find, and his precious goose was dead. One bright day in late autumn, a family of ants were bustling about in the warm sunshine, drying out the grain they had stored up during the summer when a starving grasshopper, his fiddle under his arm, came up and humbly begged for a bite to eat. What? cried the ants in surprise. Haven't you stored anything away for the winter? What in the world were you doing all last summer? I didn't have time to store up any food. Food whined the grasshopper. I was so busy making music that before I knew it the summer was gone. The ants shrugged their shoulders in disgust. Making music were you? They cried. Very well. Now dance. And they turned their backs on the grasshopper and went on with their work. The moral of this story is there's a time for work and a time for play. The fox and the grapes. A fox one day spied a beautiful bunch of ripe grapes hanging from a vine, drained along the branches of a tree. The grapes seemed ready to burst with juice, and the fox's mouth watered as he gazed longingly at them. The bunch hung from a high branch and the fox had to jump for it. The first time he jumped, he missed it by a long way. So he walked off a short distance and took a running leap at it, only to fall short once more.

SPEAKER_07 24:42

Again and again he tried, but in vain.

SPEAKER_11 24:52

Now he sat down and looked at the grapes in disgust. What a fool I am, he said. Here I am wearing myself out to get a bunch of sour grapes that are not worth gaping for. And off he walked very, very scornfully. Once upon a time, there were four little rabbits, and their names were Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, and Peter. They lived with their mother in a sandbank underneath the root of a very big fir tree. Now my dears, said old misses Rabbit one morning, you may go into the fields or down the lane, but don't go into mister McGregor's garden. Your father had an accident there. He was put in a pie by misses McGregor. Now run along and don't get into mischief.

SPEAKER_07 27:38

I am going out.

SPEAKER_11 27:46

Then old misses Rabbit took a basket and her umbrella and went through the wood to the baker's. She bought a loaf of brown bread and five currant buns. Went down the lane to gather blackberries. But Peter, who was very naughty, ran straight away to mister McGregor's garden and squeezed under the gate. And then he ate some radishes. And then feeling rather sick, he went to look for some parsley. But round the end of a cucumber frame, whom should he meet but mister McGregor? Mr McGregor was on his hands and knees planting out young cabbages. But he jumped up and ran after Peter, waving a rake and calling out Stop Thieves. Peter was most dreadfully frightened. He rushed all over the garden, for he had forgotten the way back to the gate. He lost one of his shoes among the cabbages and the other shoe amongst the potatoes. After losing them, he ran on four legs and went faster so that I think he might have got away altogether if he had not unfortunately run into a gooseberry net and got caught by the large buttons on his jacket. It was a blue jacket with brass buttons quite new. Peter gave himself up for loss and shed big tears, but his sobs were overheard by some friendly sparrows who flew to him in great excitement and implored him to exert himself. Mr McGregor came up with a sieve, which he intended to pop upon the top of Peter. But Peter wriggled out just in time, leaving his jacket behind him and rushed into the tool shed and jumped into a can. It would have been a beautiful thing to hide in if it had not had so much water in it. Mr McGregor was quite sure that Peter was somewhere in the tool shed, perhaps hidden underneath a flower pot. He began to turn them over carefully, looking under each.

SPEAKER_02 33:30

Presently Peter sneezed Ah curdshoo.

SPEAKER_11 33:39

Mr McGregor was after him in no time. Anne tried to put his foot upon Peter, who jumped out of a window, upsetting three plants. The window was too small for Mr. McGregor, and he was tired of running after Peter. He went back to his work. Peter sat down to rest. He was out of breath and trembling with fright. And he had not the least idea which way to go. Also, he was very damp with sitting in that can. After a time he began to wander about going lippity lippity, not very fast, and looking all around. He found a door in a wall, but it was locked, and there was no room for a fat little rabbit to squeeze underneath. An old mouse was running in and out over the stone doorsteps, carrying peas and beans to her family in the wood. Peter asked her the way to the gate, but she had such a large pea in her mouth that she could not answer. She only shook her head at him. Peter began to cry. Then he tried to find his way straight across the garden, but he became more and more puzzled. Presently he came to a pond where mister McGregor filled his water cans. A white cat was staring at some goldfish. She sat very, very still, but now and then the tip of her tail twitched as if it were alive. Peter thought it best to go away without speaking to her. He had heard about cats from his cousin, Little Benjamin Bunny. He went back towards the tool shed, but suddenly quite close to him, he heard the noise of a hole. Scritch, scratch, scratch, scritch. Peter scuttered underneath the bushes. But presently, as nothing happened, he came out and climbed upon a wheelbarrow and peeped over. The first thing he saw was Mr. McGregor holding onions. His back was turned towards Peter, and beyond him was the gate. Peter got down very quietly off the wheelbarrow and started running as fast as he could go along a straight walk behind some black currant bushes. Mr McGregor caught sight of him at the corner, but Peter did not care. He slipped underneath the gate and was safe at last in the wood outside the garden. Mr McGregor hung up the little jacket and the shoes for a scarecrow to frighten the blackbirds. Peter never stopped running or looked behind him till he got home to the big fir tree. He was so tired that he flopped down upon the nice soft sand on the floor of the rabbit hole and shut his eyes. His mother was busy cooking. She wondered what he had done with his clothes. It was the second little jacket and pair of shoes that Peter had lost in a fortnight. I am sorry to say that Peter was not very well during the evening. His mother put him to bed and made some chamomile tea. And she gave a dose of it to Peter. One tablespoon to be taken at bedtime. But Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail had bread and milk and blackberries for supper. One moral of this story is don't go looking for mischief. Looking for trouble could be more of a hassle than it's worth. It can cause more problems and you might miss out on other fun things. The Goose and the Golden Egg. You can imagine. For every day when he visited the nest, the goose had laid a beautiful glittering golden egg. The countryman took the eggs to market and soon began to get rich. But it was not long before he grew impatient with the goose because she gave him only a single golden egg a day. He was not getting rich fast enough. Then one day after he had finished counting his money, the idea came to him that he could Get all the golden eggs at once by killing the goose and cutting it open. But when the deed was done, not a single golden egg did he find, and his precious goose was dead. The moral of this story is those who have plenty want more and so lose all they have The Ants and the Grasshopper One bright day in late autumn a family of ants were bustling about in the warm sunshine, drying out the grain they had stored up during the summer when a starving grasshopper, his fiddle under his arm came up and humbly begged for a bite to eat. What? cried the ants in surprise. Haven't you stored anything away for the winter? What in the world were you doing all last summer? I didn't have time to store up any food, whined the grasshopper. I was so busy making music that before I knew it the summer was gone. The ants shrugged their shoulders in disgust. Making music were you? They cried. Very well now dance.

SPEAKER_10 46:58

And they turned their backs on the grasshopper and went on with their work.

SPEAKER_11 47:12

The moral of this story is there's a time for work and a time for play. The fox and the grapes A fox one day spied a beautiful bunch of ripe grapes hanging from a vine, strained along the branches of a tree. The grapes seemed ready to burst with juice, and the fox's mouth watered as he gazed longingly at them. The bunch hung from a high branch and the fox had to jump for it. The first time he jumped, he missed it by a long way. So he walked off a short distance and took a running leap at it, only to fall short once more.

SPEAKER_07 48:59

Again and again he tried, but in vain.

SPEAKER_11 49:10

Now he sat down and looked at the grapes in disgust. What a fool I am, he said. Here I am wearing myself out to get a bunch of sour grapes that are not worth gaping for. And off he walked very, very scornfully. That which is beyond their reach.