Shitakiri Suzume (The Tongue-Cut Sparrow)

ONE FINE DAY, a tiny brown sparrow slipped from a tree and broke her wing.

It hurt her very much, and when she found she was unable to fly away, she fluttered around on the ground and cried, “Oh, help me someone! Please, help me!”

Just then, around the corner there came a kind old man with a pointed white beard. He had been for a walk, and when he saw the tiny brown sparrow, he stopped and picked her up.

The little bird sobbed and sobbed, “Chu chu chun chun.”

“Poor birdie,” said the kind old man, “I’ll take care of you.”

So the old man took the tiny brown sparrow to his home where he lived with his wife, and nursed her tenderly. He made a pad for the injured wing. Then he bandaged it carefully. Everyday he took the bandage off, put some medicine on, and bound it up again.

It was not many days until the sparrow was able to fly around the room. The old man called her Suzume-san, which means Miss Sparrow, and the tiny sparrow called the old man Ojiisan, which means Mr. Grandpa.

Suzume-san and Ojiisan grew to love each other dearly. Suzume-san slept with Ojiisan. She ate out of his plate. They also played games together. Their best game was hide-and-seek, because Suzume-san found such wonderful places to hide in. Her excited chirrups and Ojiisan’s chuckles were heard all over the house.

Now the wife of Ojiisan was a jealous, selfish person. She did not like Suzume-san because Ojiisan spent so much of his time with her. He was so very happy when he was playing with Suzume-san.

“Come Obāsan,” the two would call out to the old lady, “Come, join us in this game!” But Obāsan only scowled and shut her paper door with a bang. Ojiisan felt very sorry for her.

One day Ojiisan had to go on an errand. As he couldn’t take Suzume-san with him, he left her with Obāsan.

“Be a good sparrow. Be quiet. Don’t trouble Obāsan,” said the kind old man. “I’ll be home soon.”

Suzume-san felt very lonely. She hopped around Obāsan’s corner, cocked her head on one side and tweeted softly. She looked very winning but Obāsan paid no attention to her.

She was busy washing her clothes. After washing them, she soaked them in starch and laid them out to dry. The starch was in a bowl in the sun.

Suzume-san sighed a tiny sigh and fluttered toward the bowl. It dazzled in the sun and looked very good, so she took a peck at it. It tasted good! She took another peck and then another, and before long the bowl was empty.

But just then Obāsan came rushing toward her and gave an angry scream.

“You wicked creature! You’ve eaten my precious starch,” she shouted and grabbed Suzume-san in her hands.

She felt the soft furry feathers and the frightened heart beating hard. She heard her crying:—“Chun, chun, chun,” which meant, “I’m sorry, sorry, sorry.” But do you know what the wicked woman did?

She opened Suzume-san’s little beak, picked up a pair of scissors and cut her tongue!

Oh how it hurt! Suzume-san gave a piteous cry and flew away, over the roof toward the trees—and into the sky.

Obāsan followed her with a wicked look and smacked her lips. “Now I’m rid of the silly little thing.”

And she went back to her work.

Presently Ojiisan came back.

“Tadaima,” he called, which means, “I’ve just returned.”

No Suzume-san fluttered out to greet him—only Obāsan who was now quite happy.

But when Ojiisan heard the story he was very distressed. He turned away without a word, and though he was tired he walked out, through the meadow, over the hills and up a narrow path where he thought he’d find Suzume-san.

And all the while he called—

“Shitakiri Suzume! Tongue-cut little sparrow! Where have you gone? Where are you?”

Long afterwards he came to a big bamboo grove. Here he heard many sparrows twittering, for a bamboo grove is a sparrow’s home. Presently he did hear dear Suzume-san’s voice among a hundred others.

“Ojiisan! Ojiisan! Here I am. Welcome to our home! Come along up here.”

Everywhere he heard chirrupings of “Welcome! Welcome! Welcome!”

Ojiisan was so happy. He found that Suzumesan was properly cared for and that the cruel wound was cured. He met her father and mother.

He saw hundreds of pretty birds dancing in beautiful kimonos. Lovely music filled the air. He ate rare dainty food and drank good wine that never came to an end. In all the rooms he saw precious ornaments on the shelves and beautiful paintings on the walls. Suzume-san’s home was very lovely.

At last it grew dark and Ojiisan said he had better say goodbye. Immediately there appeared two large sparrows, one with a big black wicker box and the other with a small one.

“A present for you, Ojiisan,” explained Suzumesan’s father. “Choose whichever you like and take it home.”

Ojiisan looked at the big box—he looked at the small one. He placed his two hands before him and made a deep low bow.

“Thank you for the lovely time, dear birdies of birdland. I have enjoyed everything very much, I shall never forget all of you. Thank you for the beautiful present that I will take home and treasure as a remembrance. It is growing dark already and, as I am an old man, I will take the smaller box.”

The sparrows smiled happily and Ojiisan, carrying the smaller box on his back, bade many a farewell to them all as they waved their tiny little wings. Suzume-san saw her guest to the gate.

“Sayonara, sayonara! Come again, come again, dear Ojiisan.”

Ojiisan was amazed at all he had seen. He rubbed his eyes again and again. But he was more amazed when he reached home and opened the box, for it was filled with many beautiful gifts—jewelry of every kind, sparkling coins, rare materials, and oh, lots and lots of other lovely things!

Of course Obāsan was very jealous. When she heard about Ojiisan’s choice of the smaller box she grew very cross.

She wanted to have the big box for herself. So very early the next morning she went out and walked fast through the meadow, up the hill, until she reached the bamboo grove.

The birds twittered excitedly and hid themselves behind the trees, but Obāsan rapped on Suzume-san’s gate and demanded to be let in.

When she was admitted, she looked around curiously and was fidgety the whole time, for she did not feel very comfortable. Suzume-san in her fright had hidden away up in her room. But the rest of the birds were polite and gave their guest good food to eat.

Obāsan however was in a hurry to carry off the box. She kept looking for the presents. And when at last the two large sparrows brought them, she grabbed the big box and said sayonara.

The big box was very heavy—so heavy that she could scarcely walk properly. Before long, Obāsan was wet with perspiration and was breathing hard. The roads were rough and sharp stones cut through her straw sandals. She stumbled many times, but she would not give up her heavy box.

“Oh dear, I can’t wait any longer. I’ll at least open the lid and see what’s inside,” thought Obāsan. She sank on her knees and placed the box in front of her and opened it.

Goodness, gracious me!

Green snakes with red tongues, spotted frogs, and grotesque bogies arose. They put out their tongues and licked her. They stretched out their wobbly arms and tried to hug her. They threw sharp stones at her and laughed.

Their laughter sounded like this, “Gera—gera—gera—gera.”

Obāsan was terrified. She screamed for help. She tried to push away the awful looking creatures. She was frantic with fright.

Now, the kind Ojiisan had come up the path in search for her. He did not know she had gone to get the big box, but when he heard her terrified cries he ran as fast as he could, and was horrified to find old Obāsan struggling helplessly with the dirty nasty creatures.

He pulled her up by the hands and together they ran down the hillside, through the meadow to their home as fast as they could.

Ojiisan was quite out of breath by the time they reached home.

As for Obāsan, she sank down on the threshold and, with her face buried in both hands, cried and cried and cried.

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m a wicked woman. I’m a ne’er do well. How can you forgive me!”

Ojiisan smiled happily, for though he was out of breath and his knees were shaking after pulling Obāsan down the hill, he knew she was at last really sorry for being selfish and jealous and greedy.

So Ojiisan forgave her, and you may be sure Obāsan did her best. From that time on they lived happily ever after.

Oh, I must not forget to tell you that the next spring, Ojiisan took Obāsan to Suzume-san’s home, where both of them were treated equally well. All birds have sharp little eyes you know.