Eugene Field's Second Book of Tales opens with a note explaining that the stories were selected from unpublished manuscripts and earlier sketches, offering a glimpse into the author's evolving style. The collection includes a range of narratives, from fairy-tale-like adventures to satirical sketches, all marked by Field's characteristic blend of sentiment and humor. The excerpt from 'The Werewolf' reveals a structured fairy-tale framework: a witch's curse, a princess's captivity, and a hero's quest, complete with magical creatures like a catamaran and a boogaboo. Field's prose moves between detailed exposition and direct dialogue, creating a rhythm that balances narrative exposition with moments of intimate reflection.

Fairy-Tale Structures and Transformations

The excerpt from 'The Werewolf' exemplifies Field's use of classic fairy-tale motifs: a jealous witch, a beautiful princess, and a series of trials. The story unfolds through a nested narrative—a countryman recounts the tale to Wilhelm—which adds layers of storytelling. Transformations are central: the witch Mirza becomes a hag, knights are turned into swans, and the princess is imprisoned. Field emphasizes the physical and moral consequences of these changes, as when Mirza's 'back became bent, her hair white, and her face wrinkled' from practicing black arts. The talisman Wilhelm carries, which 'had never looked so bright and shining' under moonlight, serves as a symbol of hope and maternal blessing, linking transformation to redemption.

Recurring Images: Light, Moonlight, and the Supernatural

Field repeatedly uses light and moonlight to signal supernatural or emotional shifts. In the excerpt, 'the moon beams danced upon its smooth face and kissed it,' suggesting a benign magic. Earlier, the witch flies in 'through the window on a broomstick,' a stark intrusion of the supernatural into the domestic. The contrast between the princess's chamber, where she 'sat counting her pearls,' and the witch's 'forlorn old castle' highlights the tension between safety and danger. These images recur across the collection, creating a visual language that ties together disparate tales. The catamaran's 'fire from his nostrils' and the boogaboo's 'fierce claws' are vivid, almost grotesque, details that ground the fantasy in sensory experience.

Movement Between Scenes: From Domestic to Fantastic

Field's narratives often shift abruptly from ordinary settings to fantastical ones. In 'The Werewolf,' the story moves from a countryman's tale to Wilhelm's solitary journey 'back to the witch's castle.' This movement mirrors the collection's broader pattern: many tales begin with familiar domestic scenes—a child's letter, a mother's song—before veering into the uncanny. The excerpt shows Wilhelm 'plodding back' after dark, a transition that underscores the liminal space between the real and the imagined. Field uses these shifts to explore how everyday life can suddenly open onto the extraordinary, a technique that keeps readers alert to the porous boundaries of his fictional worlds.

Voice and Dialogue: Directness and Folk Idiom

Field's dialogue is direct and often colloquial, as when the countryman warns, 'May luck attend thee, but beware of the catamaran and the boogaboo.' This folk idiom contrasts with the more formal narrative voice, creating a layered texture. The witch's reply to the king—'there was only one condition upon which she would give up the princess'—is delivered in a straightforward, almost legalistic tone, which heightens the absurdity of the magical terms. Field also uses dialogue to convey character: Wilhelm's prayer 'by the roadside' reveals his piety, while the queen mother's 'swoon from which she never recovered' is reported with a matter-of-factness that underscores the story's tragic undercurrent. This blend of plain speech and heightened emotion is a hallmark of Field's style.

Readers approaching Second Book of Tales will find a collection that rewards attention to its structural patterns and recurring imagery. Field's stories often hinge on moments of transformation—physical, moral, or emotional—and his use of light, dialogue, and setting creates a cohesive yet varied reading experience. The tales are best enjoyed as individual pieces, but together they reveal an author deeply engaged with folklore and the nuances of human nature.