Read Astrid Lindgren, illustrated by Ilon Wikland, translated from the Swedish by Jill Morgan for Free Online

playing under the old trees. When we were hungry Totty’s sister, Minonna-Nell, ran into the kitchen for bread. It was the Bread That Satisfies Hunger and I loved it as much as before.

    I found a little spoon in the grass under the trees, a little silver spoon. I showed it to Totty, and he looked very sad.
    â€œThat was my sister’s spoon,” he said. “Mio has found our sister’s spoon,” he shouted to his sisters and brothers.
    â€œWhere’s you sister?” I asked.
    â€œSir Kato,” said Totty. “The cruel Sir Kato seized her.”
    When he said that name the air all around us turned as cold as ice. A tall sunflower in the garden withered and died, and the butterflies lost their wings so that they could never fly again. I felt scared of Sir Kato. So scared, so scared.
    I gave the little silver spoon to Totty, but he said, “Keep our sister’s spoon. You found it, and she’ll never need it again.”
    His little sisters and brothers cried when they heard that their sister wouldn’t need the spoon any more. But soon we started playing again and thought no more of their troubles. I put the spoon in my pocket and thought no more of it either.
    But the whole time we were playing, I kept wishing it would be evening, so I could find out more about the peculiar well.
    The day went by and it began to get dark. Then Totty looked at his sisters and brothers. They looked at each other wonderingly, and Totty said, “Now!”
    They all rushed over and sat down on the edge of the well. Pompoo and I sat down beside them.

    â€œBe perfectly quiet,” said Totty.
    We sat perfectly quiet and waited. It became a little darker among the trees and Totty’s house looked even more like a cottage from a fairy tale. It stood in a strange, mysterious darkness, yet not in total darkness because dusk was only approaching. Something strange and mysterious and very old settled over the cottage and over the trees and, most of all, over the well, as we were sitting around the edge.
    â€œBe perfectly quiet,” whispered Totty, although we hadn’t said a word in a long time. We sat quietly even longer, and it became a little darker among the trees, and I still couldn’t hear anything.
    But then I heard something. Yes, I heard something. I heard a whisper down in the well! A whisper began deep, deep down in the well. It was such a strange voice, unlike any other voice. It whispered fairy tales. They weren’t like any other fairy tales, and they were the most beautiful stories in the whole world. There was almost nothing that I loved more than listening to fairy tales, so I lay down flat on my stomach, leaning over the edge of the well to hear more and more of the voice that whispered. Sometimes it sang too, the strangest and most beautiful songs.
    â€œWhat strange kind of well is this?” I said to Totty.
    â€œA well full of fairy tales and songs. That’s all I know,” said Totty. “A well full of old stories and songs that have existed in the world for a long time, but that people forgot a long time ago. It is only the Well That Whispers at Night that remembers them all.”
    I don’t know how long we sat there. It got darker among the trees, and the voice from the well became fainter and fainter. At last we heard it no more.
    Away in the green pastures I heard Miramis neighing. He probably wanted to remind me that I needed to hurry home to my father the King.
    â€œGood-bye, Totty. Good-bye, Minonna-Nell. Good-bye, everyone,” I said.
    â€œGood-bye, Mio. Good-bye, Pompoo,” said Totty. “Come back soon!”
    â€œYes, we’ll come again soon,” I promised.
    We called Miramis and climbed up on his back, and he set off for home at a full gallop. It wasn’t so dark now. The moon had risen up in the sky and shone over all the green pastures and over all the silent trees, which looked silver now, exactly like the