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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:14:50 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:14:50 -0700 |
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diff --git a/359-h/359-h.htm b/359-h/359-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..15b515e --- /dev/null +++ b/359-h/359-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,15070 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Good Stories for Great Holidays, by Frances Jenkins Olcott + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Good Stories For Great Holidays, by +Frances Jenkins Olcott + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Good Stories For Great Holidays + Arranged for Story-Telling and Reading Aloud and for the + Children's Own Reading + +Author: Frances Jenkins Olcott + +Release Date: July 11, 2008 [EBook #359] +Last Updated: March 16, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GOOD STORIES FOR GREAT HOLIDAYS *** + + + + +Produced by Mike Lough, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + GOOD STORIES FOR GREAT HOLIDAYS + </h1> + <h3> + ARRANGED FOR STORY-TELLING AND READING ALOUD <br /> AND FOR THE CHILDREN'S + OWN READING + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Frances Jenkins Olcott + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h4> + Index according to reading level is appended. + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + TO THE STORY-TELLER + </h2> + <p> + This volume, though intended also for the children's own reading and for + reading aloud, is especially planned for story-telling. The latter is a + delightful way of arousing a gladsome holiday spirit, and of showing the + inner meanings of different holidays. As stories used for this purpose are + scattered through many volumes, and as they are not always in the concrete + form required for story-telling, I have endeavored to bring together + myths, legends, tales, and historical stories suitable to holiday + occasions. + </p> + <p> + There are here collected one hundred and twenty stories for seventeen + holidays—stories grave, gay, humorous, or fanciful; also some that + are spiritual in feeling, and others that give the delicious thrill of + horror so craved by boys and girls at Halloween time. The range of + selection is wide, and touches all sides of wholesome boy and girl nature, + and the tales have the power to arouse an appropriate holiday spirit. + </p> + <p> + As far as possible the stories are presented in their original form. When, + however, they are too long for inclusion, or too loose in structure for + story-telling purposes, they are adapted. + </p> + <p> + Adapted stories are of two sorts. Condensed: in which case a piece of + literature is shortened, scarcely any changes being made in the original + language. Rewritten: here the plot, imagery, language, and style of the + original are retained as far as possible, while the whole is moulded into + form suitable for story-telling. Some few stories are built up on a slight + framework of original matter. + </p> + <p> + Thus it may be seen that the tales in this volume have not been reduced to + the necessarily limited vocabulary and uniform style of one editor, but + that they are varied in treatment and language, and are the products of + many minds. + </p> + <p> + A glance at the table of contents will show that not only have selections + been made from modern authors and from the folklore of different races, + but that some quaint old literary sources have been drawn on. Among the + men and books contributing to these pages are the Gesta Romanorum, Il + Libro d'Oro, Xenophon, Ovid, Lucian, the Venerable Bede, William of + Malmesbury. John of Hildesheim, William Caxton, and the more modern + Washington Irving, Hugh Miller, Charles Dickens, and Henry Cabot Lodge; + also those immortals, Hans Andersen, the Brothers Grimm, Horace E. + Scudder, and others. + </p> + <p> + The stories are arranged to meet the needs of story-telling in the graded + schools. Reading-lists, showing where to find additional material for + story-telling and collateral reading, are added. Grades in which the + recommended stories are useful are indicated. + </p> + <p> + The number of selections in the volume, as well as the references to other + books, is limited by the amount and character of available material. For + instance, there is little to be found for Saint Valentine's Day, while + there is an overwhelming abundance of fine stories for the Christmas + season. Stories like Dickens's “Christmas Carol,” Ouida's “Dog of + Flanders,” and Hawthorne's tales, which are too long for inclusion and + would lose their literary beauty if condensed, are referred to in the + lists. Volumes containing these stories may be procured at the public + library. + </p> + <p> + A subject index is appended. This indicates the ethical, historical, and + other subject-matter of interest to the teacher, thus making the volume + serviceable for other occasions besides holidays. + </p> + <p> + In learning her tale the story-teller is advised not to commit it to + memory. Such a method is apt to produce a wooden or glib manner of + presentation. It is better for her to read the story over and over again + until its plot, imagery, style, and vocabulary become her own, and then to + retell it, as Miss Bryant says, “simply, vitally, joyously.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> GOOD STORIES FOR GREAT HOLIDAYS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE FAIRY'S NEW YEAR GIFT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> THE TWELVE MONTHS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> THE MAIL-COACH PASSENGERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> HE RESCUES THE BIRDS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> LINCOLN AND THE LITTLE GIRL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> TRAINING FOR THE PRESIDENCY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> WHY LINCOLN WAS CALLED “HONEST ABE” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> A STRANGER AT FIVE-POINTS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> A SOLOMON COME TO JUDGMENT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> GEORGE PICKETT'S FRIEND </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> LINCOLN THE LAWYER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> THE COURAGE OF HIS CONVICTIONS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> MR. LINCOLN AND THE BIBLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> HIS SPRINGFIELD FAREWELL ADDRESS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> SAINT VALENTINE'S DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> A PRISONER'S VALENTINE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> A GIRL'S VALENTINE CHARM </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> MR. PEPYS HIS VALENTINE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> CUPID AND PSYCHE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> THE TRIAL OF PSYCHE: </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> I. THE CHERRY TREE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> II. THE APPLE ORCHARD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> III. THE GARDEN-BED </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> YOUNG GEORGE AND THE COLT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> WASHINGTON THE ATHLETE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> WASHINGTON'S MODESTY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> WASHINGTON AT YORKTOWN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> RESURRECTION DAY (EASTER) </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> A LESSON OF FAITH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0034"> A CHILD'S DREAM OF A STAR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0035"> THE LOVELIEST ROSE IN THE WORLD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0036"> MAY DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0037"> THE SNOWDROP [1] </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0038"> THE THREE LITTLE BUTTERFLY BROTHERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0039"> THE WATER-DROP </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0040"> THE SPRING BEAUTY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0041"> THE FAIRY TULIPS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0042"> THE STREAM THAT RAN AWAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0043"> THE ELVES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0044"> THE CANYON FLOWERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0045"> CLYTIE, THE HELIOTROPE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0046"> HYACINTHUS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0047"> ECHO AND NARCISSUS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0048"> MOTHERS' DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0049"> CORNELIA'S JEWELS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0051"> QUEEN MARGARET AND THE ROBBERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0052"> THE REVENGE OF CORIOLANUS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0053"> THE WIDOW AND HER THREE SONS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0054"> MEMORIAL DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0055"> BETSY ROSS AND THE FLAG </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0056"> THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0057"> THE LITTLE DRUMMER-BOY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0058"> A FLAG INCIDENT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0059"> TWO HERO-STORIES OF THE CIVIL WAR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0060"> II. THE BRAVERY OF RICHARD KIRTLAND </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0061"> THE YOUNG SENTINEL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0062"> THE COLONEL OF THE ZOUAVES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0063"> GENERAL SCOTT AND THE STARS AND STRIPES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0064"> INDEPENDENCE DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0065"> THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0066"> THE SIGNING OF THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0067"> THE BOSTON TEA-PARTY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0068"> A GUNPOWDER STORY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0069"> THE CAPTURE OF FORT TICONDEROGA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0070"> WASHINGTON AND THE COWARDS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0071"> LABOR DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0072"> THE SMITHY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0073"> THE NAIL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0074"> THE ELVES AND THE SHOEMAKER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0075"> THE HILLMAN AND THE HOUSEWIFE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0076"> HOFUS THE STONE-CUTTER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0077"> ARACHNE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0078"> THE METAL KING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0079"> THE CHOICE OF HERCULES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0080"> THE SPEAKING STATUE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0081"> THE CHAMPION STONE-CUTTER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0082"> BILL BROWN'S TEST </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0083"> COLUMBUS DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0084"> COLUMBUS AND THE EGG </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0085"> COLUMBUS AT LA RABIDA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0086"> THE MUTINY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0087"> THE FIRST LANDING OF COLUMBUS IN THE NEW WORLD + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0088"> HALLOWEEN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0089"> SHIPPEITARO </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0090"> HANSEL AND GRETHEL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0091"> BURG HILL'S ON FIRE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0092"> THE KING OF THE CATS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0093"> THE STRANGE VISITOR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0094"> THE BENEVOLENT GOBLIN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0095"> THE PHANTOM KNIGHT OF THE VANDAL CAMP </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0096"> THANKSGIVING DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0097"> THE FIRST HARVEST-HOME IN PLYMOUTH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0098"> THE MASTER OF THE HARVEST </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0099"> SAINT CUTHBERT'S EAGLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0100"> THE EARS OF WHEAT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0101"> HOW INDIAN CORN CAME INTO THE WORLD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0102"> THE NUTCRACKER DWARF </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0103"> THE PUMPKIN PIRATES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0104"> THE SPIRIT OF THE CORN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0105"> THE HORN OF PLENTY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0106"> CHRISTMAS DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0107"> THE STRANGER CHILD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0108"> SAINT CHRISTOPHER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0109"> THE CHRISTMAS ROSE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0110"> THE WOODEN SHOES OF LITTLE WOLFF </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0111"> THE PINE TREE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0112"> THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0113"> THE CHRISTMAS FAIRY OF STRASBURG </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0114"> THE THREE PURSES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0115"> THE THUNDER OAK </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0116"> THE CHRISTMAS THORN OF GLASTONBURY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0117"> THE THREE KINGS OF COLOGNE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0118"> THE CHILD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0119"> HOW THEY CAME TO COLOGNE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0120"> ARBOR DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0121"> THE LITTLE TREE THAT LONGED FOR OTHER LEAVES + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0122"> WHY THE EVERGREEN TREES NEVER LOSE THEIR + LEAVES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0123"> WHY THE ASPEN QUIVERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0124"> THE WONDER TREE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0125"> THE PROUD OAK TREE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0126"> BAUCIS AND PHILEMON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0127"> THE UNFRUITFUL TREE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0128"> THE DRYAD OF THE OLD OAK </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0129"> DAPHNE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0130"> BIRD DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0131"> THE OLD WOMAN WHO BECAME A WOODPECKER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0132"> THE BOY WHO BECAME A ROBIN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0133"> THE TONGUE-CUT SPARROW </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0134"> THE QUAILS—A LEGEND OF THE JATAKA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0135"> THE MAGPIE'S NEST </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0136"> THE GREEDY GEESE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0137"> THE KING OF THE BIRDS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0138"> THE DOVE WHO SPOKE TRUTH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0139"> THE BUSY BLUE JAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0140"> BABES IN THE WOODS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0141"> THE PRIDE OF THE REGIMENT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0142"> THE MOTHER MURRE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0143"> THE END </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0144"> REFERENCE LISTS FOR STORY-TELLING AND + COLLATERAL READING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0145"> REFERENCE LISTS FOR STORY-TELLING AND + COLLATERAL READING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0146"> NEW YEAR'S DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0147"> LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0148"> SAINT VALENTINE'S DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0149"> WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0150"> RESURRECTION DAY (EASTER) </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0151"> MAY DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0152"> MOTHERS' DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0153"> MEMORIAL AND FLAG DAYS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0154"> INDEPENDENCE DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0155"> LABOR DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0156"> COLUMBUS DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0157"> HALLOWEEN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0158"> THANKSGIVING DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0159"> CHRISTMAS DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0160"> ARBOR DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0161"> BIRD DAY </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + GOOD STORIES FOR GREAT HOLIDAYS + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE FAIRY'S NEW YEAR GIFT + </h2> + <h3> + BY EMILIE POULSSON (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Two little boys were at play one day when a Fairy suddenly appeared before + them and said: “I have been sent to give you New Year presents.” + </p> + <p> + She handed to each child a package, and in an instant was gone. + </p> + <p> + Carl and Philip opened the packages and found in them two beautiful books, + with pages as pure and white as the snow when it first falls. + </p> + <p> + Many months passed and the Fairy came again to the boys. “I have brought + you each another book?” said she, “and will take the first ones back to + Father Time who sent them to you.” + </p> + <p> + “May I not keep mine a little longer?” asked Philip. “I have hardly + thought about it lately. I'd like to paint something on the last leaf that + lies open.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the Fairy; “I must take it just as it is.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish that I could look through mine just once,” said Carl; “I have only + seen one page at a time, for when the leaf turns over it sticks fast, and + I can never open the book at more than one place each day.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall look at your book,” said the Fairy, “and Philip, at his.” And + she lit for them two little silver lamps, by the light of which they saw + the pages as she turned them. + </p> + <p> + The boys looked in wonder. Could it be that these were the same fair books + she had given them a year ago? Where were the clean, white pages, as pure + and beautiful as the snow when it first falls? Here was a page with ugly, + black spots and scratches upon it; while the very next page showed a + lovely little picture. Some pages were decorated with gold and silver and + gorgeous colors, others with beautiful flowers, and still others with a + rainbow of softest, most delicate brightness. Yet even on the most + beautiful of the pages there were ugly blots and scratches. + </p> + <p> + Carl and Philip looked up at the Fairy at last. + </p> + <p> + “Who did this?” they asked. “Every page was white and fair as we opened to + it; yet now there is not a single blank place in the whole book!” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I explain some of the pictures to you?” said the Fairy, smiling at + the two little boys. + </p> + <p> + “See, Philip, the spray of roses blossomed on this page when you let the + baby have your playthings; and this pretty bird, that looks as if it were + singing with all its might, would never have been on this page if you had + not tried to be kind and pleasant the other day, instead of quarreling.” + </p> + <p> + “But what makes this blot?” asked Philip. + </p> + <p> + “That,” said the Fairy sadly; “that came when you told an untruth one day, + and this when you did not mind mamma. All these blots and scratches that + look so ugly, both in your book and in Carl's, were made when you were + naughty. Each pretty thing in your books came on its page when you were + good.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if we could only have the books again!” said Carl and Philip. + </p> + <p> + “That cannot be,” said the Fairy. “See! they are dated for this year, and + they must now go back into Father Time's bookcase, but I have brought you + each a new one. Perhaps you can make these more beautiful than the + others.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, she vanished, and the boys were left alone, but each held in + his hand a new book open at the first page. + </p> + <p> + And on the back of this book was written in letters of gold, “For the New + Year.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL + </h2> + <h3> + BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN (TRANSLATED) + </h3> + <p> + It was very, very cold; it snowed and it grew dark; it was the last + evening of the year, New Year's Eve. In the cold and dark a poor little + girl, with bare head and bare feet, was walking through the streets. When + she left her own house she certainly had had slippers on; but what could + they do? They were very big slippers, and her mother had used them till + then, so big were they. The little maid lost them as she slipped across + the road, where two carriages were rattling by terribly fast. One slipper + was not to be found again, and a boy ran away with the other. He said he + could use it for a cradle when he had children of his own. + </p> + <p> + So now the little girl went with her little naked feet, which were quite + red and blue with the cold. In an old apron she carried a number of + matches, and a bundle of them in her hand. No one had bought anything of + her all day; no one had given her a copper. Hungry and cold she went, and + drew herself together, poor little thing! The snowflakes fell on her long + yellow hair, which curled prettily over her neck; but she did not think of + that now. In all the windows lights were shining, and there was a glorious + smell of roast goose out there in the street; it was no doubt New Year's + Eve. Yes, she thought of that! + </p> + <p> + In a corner formed by two houses, one of which was a little farther from + the street than the other, she sat down and crept close. She had drawn up + her little feet, but she was still colder, and she did not dare to go + home, for she had sold no matches, and she had not a single cent; her + father would beat her; and besides, it was cold at home, for they had + nothing over the them but a roof through which the wind whistled, though + straw and rags stopped the largest holes. + </p> + <p> + Her small hands were quite numb with the cold. Ah! a little match might do + her good if she only dared draw one from the bundle, and strike it against + the wall, and warm her fingers at it. She drew one out. R-r-atch! how it + spluttered and burned! It was a warm bright flame, like a little candle, + when she held her hands over it; it was a wonderful little light! It + really seemed to the little girl as if she sat before a great polished + stove, with bright brass feet and a brass cover. The fire burned so + nicely; it warmed her so well,—the little girl was just putting out + her feet to warm these, too,—when out went the flame; the stove was + gone;—she sat with only the end of the burned match in her hand. + </p> + <p> + She struck another; it burned; it gave a light; and where it shone on the + wall, the wall became thin like a veil, and she could see through it into + the room where a table stood, spread with a white cloth, and with china on + it; and the roast goose smoked gloriously, stuffed with apples and dried + plums. And what was still more splendid to behold, the goose hopped down + from the dish, and waddled along the floor, with a knife and fork in its + breast; straight to the little girl he came. Then the match went out, and + only the thick, damp, cold wall was before her. + </p> + <p> + She lighted another. Then she was sitting under a beautiful Christmas + tree; it was greater and finer than the one she had seen through the glass + door at the rich merchant's. Thousands of candles burned upon the green + branches, and colored pictures like those in the shop windows looked down + upon them. The little girl stretched forth both hands toward them; then + the match went out. The Christmas lights went higher and higher. She saw + that now they were stars in the sky: one of them fell and made a long line + of fire. + </p> + <p> + “Now some one is dying,” said the little girl, for her old grandmother, + the only person who had been good to her, but who was now dead, had said: + “When a star falls a soul mounts up to God.” + </p> + <p> + She rubbed another match against the wall; it became bright again, and in + the light there stood the old grandmother clear and shining, mild and + lovely. + </p> + <p> + “Grandmother!” cried the child. “Oh, take me with you! I know you will go + when the match is burned out. You will go away like the warm stove, the + nice roast goose, and the great glorious Christmas tree!” + </p> + <p> + And she hastily rubbed the whole bundle of matches, for she wished to hold + her grandmother fast. And the matches burned with such a glow that it + became brighter than in the middle of the day; grandmother had never been + so large or so beautiful. She took the little girl up in her arms, and + both flew in the light and the joy so high, so high! and up there was no + cold, nor hunger, nor care—they were with God. + </p> + <p> + But in the corner by the house sat the little girl, with red cheeks and + smiling mouth, frozen to death on the last evening of the Old Year. The + New Year's sun rose upon the little body, that sat there with the matches, + of which one bundle was burned. She wanted to warm herself, the people + said. No one knew what fine things she had seen, and in what glory she had + gone in with her grandmother to the New Year's Day. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE TWELVE MONTHS + </h2> + <h3> + A SLAV LEGEND + </h3> + <p> + BY ALEXANDER CHODZKO (ADAPTED) + </p> + <p> + There was once a widow who had two daughters, Helen, her own child by her + dead husband, and Marouckla, his daughter by his first wife. She loved + Helen, but hated the poor orphan because she was far prettier than her own + daughter. + </p> + <p> + Marouckla did not think about her good looks, and could not understand why + her stepmother should be angry at the sight of her. The hardest work fell + to her share. She cleaned out the rooms, cooked, washed, sewed, spun, + wove, brought in the hay, milked the cow, and all this without any help. + </p> + <p> + Helen, meanwhile, did nothing but dress herself in her best clothes and go + to one amusement after another. + </p> + <p> + But Marouckla never complained. She bore the scoldings and bad temper of + mother and sister with a smile on her lips, and the patience of a lamb. + But this angelic behavior did not soften them. They became even more + tyrannical and grumpy, for Marouckla grew daily more beautiful, while + Helen's ugliness increased. So the stepmother determined to get rid of + Marouckla, for she knew that while she remained, her own daughter would + have no suitors. Hunger, every kind of privation, abuse, every means was + used to make the girl's life miserable. But in spite of it all Marouckla + grew ever sweeter and more charming. + </p> + <p> + One day in the middle of winter Helen wanted some wood-violets. + </p> + <p> + “Listen,” cried she to Marouckla, “you must go up the mountain and find me + violets. I want some to put in my gown. They must be fresh and + sweet-scented-do you hear?” + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear sister, whoever heard of violets blooming in the snow?” said + the poor orphan. + </p> + <p> + “You wretched creature! Do you dare to disobey me?” said Helen. “Not + another word. Off with you! If you do not bring me some violets from the + mountain forest I will kill you.” + </p> + <p> + The stepmother also added her threats to those of Helen, and with vigorous + blows they pushed Marouckla outside and shut the door upon her. The + weeping girl made her way to the mountain. The snow lay deep, and there + was no trace of any human being. Long she wandered hither and thither, and + lost herself in the wood. She was hungry, and shivered with cold, and + prayed to die. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she saw a light in the distance, and climbed toward it till she + reached the top of the mountain. Upon the highest peak burned a large + fire, surrounded by twelve blocks of stone on which sat twelve strange + beings. Of these the first three had white hair, three were not quite so + old, three were young and handsome, and the rest still younger. + </p> + <p> + There they all sat silently looking at the fire. They were the Twelve + Months of the Year. The great January was placed higher than the others. + His hair and mustache were white as snow, and in his hand he held a wand. + At first Marouckla was afraid, but after a while her courage returned, and + drawing near, she said:— + </p> + <p> + “Men of God, may I warm myself at your fire? I am chilled by the winter + cold.” + </p> + <p> + The great January raised his head and answered: “What brings thee here, my + daughter? What dost thou seek?” + </p> + <p> + “I am looking for violets,” replied the maiden. + </p> + <p> + “This is not the season for violets. Dost thou not see the snow + everywhere?” said January. + </p> + <p> + “I know well, but my sister Helen and my stepmother have ordered me to + bring them violets from your mountain. If I return without them they will + kill me. I pray you, good shepherds, tell me where they may be found.” + </p> + <p> + Here the great January arose and went over to the youngest of the Months, + and, placing his wand in his hand, said:— + </p> + <p> + “Brother March, do thou take the highest place.” + </p> + <p> + March obeyed, at the same time waving his wand over the fire. Immediately + the flames rose toward the sky, the snow began to melt and the trees and + shrubs to bud. The grass became green, and from between its blades peeped + the pale primrose. It was spring, and the meadows were blue with violets. + </p> + <p> + “Gather them quickly, Marouckla,” said March. + </p> + <p> + Joyfully she hastened to pick the flowers, and having soon a large bunch + she thanked them and ran home. Helen and the stepmother were amazed at the + sight of the flowers, the scent of which filled the house. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you find them?” asked Helen. + </p> + <p> + “Under the trees on the mountain-side,” said Marouckla. + </p> + <p> + Helen kept the flowers for herself and her mother. She did not even thank + her stepsister for the trouble she had taken. The next day she desired + Marouckla to fetch her strawberries. + </p> + <p> + “Run,” said she, “and fetch me strawberries from the mountain. They must + be very sweet and ripe.” + </p> + <p> + “But whoever heard of strawberries ripening in the snow?” exclaimed + Marouckla. + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue, worm; don't answer me. If I don't have my strawberries + I will kill you,” said Helen. + </p> + <p> + Then the stepmother pushed Marouckla into the yard and bolted the door. + The unhappy girl made her way toward the mountain and to the large fire + round which sat the Twelve Months. The great January occupied the highest + place. + </p> + <p> + “Men of God, may I warm myself at your fire? The winter cold chills me,” + said she, drawing near. + </p> + <p> + The great January raised his head and asked: “Why comest thou here? What + dost thou seek?” + </p> + <p> + “I am looking for strawberries,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “We are in the midst of winter,” replied January, “strawberries do not + grow in the snow.” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” said the girl sadly, “but my sister and stepmother have ordered + me to bring them strawberries. If I do not they will kill me. Pray, good + shepherds, tell me where to find them.” + </p> + <p> + The great January arose, crossed over to the Month opposite him, and + putting the wand in his hand, said: “Brother June, do thou take the + highest place.” + </p> + <p> + June obeyed, and as he waved his wand over the fire the flames leaped + toward the sky. Instantly the snow melted, the earth was covered with + verdure, trees were clothed with leaves, birds began to sing, and various + flowers blossomed in the forest. It was summer. Under the bushes masses of + star-shaped flowers changed into ripening strawberries, and instantly they + covered the glade, making it look like a sea of blood. + </p> + <p> + “Gather them quickly, Marouckla,” said June. + </p> + <p> + Joyfully she thanked the Months, and having filled her apron ran happily + home. + </p> + <p> + Helen and her mother wondered at seeing the strawberries, which filled the + house with their delicious fragrance. + </p> + <p> + “Wherever did you find them?” asked Helen crossly. + </p> + <p> + “Right up among the mountains. Those from under the beech trees are not + bad,” answered Marouckla. + </p> + <p> + Helen gave a few to her mother and ate the rest herself. Not one did she + offer to her stepsister. Being tired of strawberries, on the third day she + took a fancy for some fresh, red apples. + </p> + <p> + “Run, Marouckla,” said she, “and fetch me fresh, red apples from the + mountain.” + </p> + <p> + “Apples in winter, sister? Why, the trees have neither leaves nor fruit!” + </p> + <p> + “Idle thing, go this minute,” said Helen; “unless you bring back apples we + will kill you.” + </p> + <p> + As before, the stepmother seized her roughly and turned her out of the + house. The poor girl went weeping up the mountain, across the deep snow, + and on toward the fire round which were the Twelve Months. Motionless they + sat there, and on the highest stone was the great January. + </p> + <p> + “Men of God, may I warm myself at your fire? The winter cold chills me,” + said she, drawing near. + </p> + <p> + The great January raised his head. “Why comest thou here? What does thou + seek?” asked he. + </p> + <p> + “I am come to look for red apples,” replied Marouckla. + </p> + <p> + “But this is winter, and not the season for red apples,” observed the + great January. + </p> + <p> + “I know,” answered the girl, “but my sister and stepmother sent me to + fetch red apples from the mountain. If I return without them they will + kill me.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon the great January arose and went over to one of the elderly + Months, to whom he handed the wand saying:— + </p> + <p> + “Brother September, do thou take the highest place.” + </p> + <p> + September moved to the highest stone, and waved his wand over the fire. + There was a flare of red flames, the snow disappeared, but the fading + leaves which trembled on the trees were sent by a cold northeast wind in + yellow masses to the glade. Only a few flowers of autumn were visible. At + first Marouckla looked in vain for red apples. Then she espied a tree + which grew at a great height, and from the branches of this hung the + bright, red fruit. September ordered her to gather some quickly. The girl + was delighted and shook the tree. First one apple fell, then another. + </p> + <p> + “That is enough,” said September; “hurry home.” + </p> + <p> + Thanking the Months she returned joyfully. Helen and the stepmother + wondered at seeing the fruit. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you gather them?” asked the stepsister. + </p> + <p> + “There are more on the mountain-top,” answered Marouckla. + </p> + <p> + “Then, why did you not bring more?” said Helen angrily. “You must have + eaten them on your way back, you wicked girl.” + </p> + <p> + “No, dear sister, I have not even tasted them,” said Marouckla. “I shook + the tree twice. One apple fell each time. Some shepherds would not allow + me to shake it again, but told me to return home.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen, mother,” said Helen. “Give me my cloak. I will fetch some more + apples myself. I shall be able to find the mountain and the tree. The + shepherds may cry 'Stop!' but I will not leave go till I have shaken down + all the apples.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of her mother's advice she wrapped herself in her pelisse, put on + a warm hood, and took the road to the mountain. Snow covered everything. + Helen lost herself and wandered hither and thither. After a while she saw + a light above her, and, following in its direction, reached the + mountain-top. + </p> + <p> + There was the flaming fire, the twelve blocks of stone, and the Twelve + Months. At first she was frightened and hesitated; then she came nearer + and warmed her hands. She did not ask permission, nor did she speak one + polite word. + </p> + <p> + “What hath brought thee here? What dost thou seek?” said the great January + severely. + </p> + <p> + “I am not obliged to tell you, old graybeard. What business is it of + yours?” she replied disdainfully, turning her back on the fire and going + toward the forest. + </p> + <p> + The great January frowned, and waved his wand over his head. Instantly the + sky became covered with clouds, the fire went down, snow fell in large + flakes, an icy wind howled round the mountain. Amid the fury of the storm + Helen stumbled about. The pelisse failed to warm her benumbed limbs. + </p> + <p> + The mother kept on waiting for her. She looked from the window, she + watched from the doorstep, but her daughter came not. The hours passed + slowly, but Helen did not return. + </p> + <p> + “Can it be that the apples have charmed her from her home?” thought the + mother. Then she clad herself in hood and pelisse, and went in search of + her daughter. Snow fell in huge masses. It covered all things. For long + she wandered hither and thither, the icy northeast wind whistled in the + mountain, but no voice answered her cries. + </p> + <p> + Day after day Marouckla worked, and prayed, and waited, but neither + stepmother nor sister returned. They had been frozen to death on the + mountain. + </p> + <p> + The inheritance of a small house, a field, and a cow fell to Marouckla. In + course of time an honest farmer came to share them with her, and their + lives were happy and peaceful. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE MAIL-COACH PASSENGERS + </h2> + <h3> + BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + It was bitterly cold. The sky glittered with stars, and not a breeze + stirred. “Bump,”—an old pot was thrown at a neighbor's door; and, + “Bang! Bang!” went the guns, for they were greeting the New Year. + </p> + <p> + It was New Year's Eve, and the church clock was striking twelve. + “Tan-ta-ra-ra, tan-ta-ra-ra!” sounded the horn, and the mail-coach came + lumbering up. The clumsy vehicle stopped at the gate of the town; all the + places had been taken, for there were twelve passengers in the coach. + </p> + <p> + “Hurrah! Hurrah!” cried the people in the town; for in every house the New + Year was being welcomed; and, as the clock struck, they stood up, the full + glasses in their hands, to drink success to the newcomer. “A happy New + Year,” was the cry; “a pretty wife, plenty of money, and no sorrow or + care!” + </p> + <p> + The wish passed round, and the glasses clashed together till they rang + again; while before the town-gate the mail-coach stopped with the twelve + strange passengers. And who were these strangers? Each of them had his + passport and his luggage with him; they even brought presents for me, and + for you, and for all the people in the town. Who were they? What did they + want? And what did they bring with them? + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning!” they cried to the sentry at the town-gate. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning,” replied the sentry, for the clock had struck twelve. + </p> + <p> + “Your name and profession?” asked the sentry of the one who alighted first + from the carriage. + </p> + <p> + “See for yourself in the passport,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “I am myself!”—and a famous fellow he looked, arrayed in bearskin + and fur boots. “Come to me to-morrow, and I will give you a New Year's + present. I throw shillings and pence among the people. I give balls every + night, no less than thirty-one; indeed, that is the highest number I can + spare for balls. My ships are often frozen in, but in my offices it is + warm and comfortable. MY NAME IS JANUARY. I am a merchant, and I generally + bring my accounts with me.” + </p> + <p> + Then the second alighted. He seemed a merry fellow. He was a director of a + theater, a manager of masked balls, and a leader of all the amusements we + can imagine. His luggage consisted of a great cask. + </p> + <p> + “We'll dance the bung out of the cask at carnival-time,” said he. “I'll + prepare a merry tune for you and for myself, too. Unfortunately I have not + long to live,—the shortest time, in fact, of my whole family,—only + twenty-eight days. Sometimes they pop me in a day extra; but I trouble + myself very little about that. Hurrah!” + </p> + <p> + “You must not shout so,” said the sentry. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly I may shout,” retorted the man. + </p> + <p> + “I'm Prince Carnival, traveling under THE NAME OF FEBRUARY.” + </p> + <p> + The third now got out. He looked the personification of fasting; but he + carried his nose very high, for he was a weather prophet. In his + buttonhole he wore a little bunch of violets, but they were very small. + </p> + <p> + “MARCH, MARCH!” the fourth passenger called after him, slapping him on the + shoulder, “don't you smell something good? Make haste into the guard-room, + they are feasting in there. I can smell it already! FORWARD, MASTER + MARCH!” + </p> + <p> + But it was not true. The speaker only wanted to make an APRIL FOOL of him, + for with that fun the fourth stranger generally began his career. He + looked very jovial, and did little work. + </p> + <p> + “If the world were only more settled!” said he; “but sometimes I'm obliged + to be in a good humor, and sometimes a bad one. I can laugh or cry + according to circumstances. I have my summer wardrobe in this box here, + but it would be very foolish to put it on now!” + </p> + <p> + After him a lady stepped out of the coach. SHE CALLED HERSELF MISS MAY. + She wore a summer dress and overshoes. Her dress was light green, and + there were anemones in her hair. She was so scented with wild thyme that + it made the sentry sneeze. + </p> + <p> + “Your health, and God bless you!” was her greeting. + </p> + <p> + How pretty she was! and such a singer! Not a theater singer nor a + ballad-singer; no, but a singer of the woods. For she wandered through the + gay, green forest, and had a concert there for her own amusement. + </p> + <p> + “Now comes the young lady,” said those in the coach; and out stepped a + young dame, delicate, proud, and pretty. IT WAS MISTRESS JUNE. In her + service people become lazy and fond of sleeping for hours. She gives a + feast on the longest day of the year, that there may be time for her + guests to partake of the numerous dishes at her table. Indeed, she keeps + her own carriage, but still she travels by the mail-coach with the rest + because she wishes to show that she is not proud. + </p> + <p> + But she was not without a protector; her younger brother, JULY, was with + her. He was a plump, young fellow, clad in summer garments, and wearing a + straw hat. He had very little luggage because it was so cumbersome in the + great heat. He had, however, swimming-trousers with him, which are nothing + to carry. + </p> + <p> + Then came the mother herself, MADAME AUGUST, a wholesale dealer in fruit, + proprietress of a large number of fish-ponds, and a land-cultivator. She + was fat and warm, yet she could use her hands well, and would herself + carry out food to the laborers in the field. After work, came the + recreations, dancing and playing in the greenwood, and the “harvest home.” + She was a thorough housewife. + </p> + <p> + After her a man stepped out of the coach. He is a painter, a master of + colors, and is NAMED SEPTEMBER. The forest on his arrival has to change + its colors, and how beautiful are those he chooses! The woods glow with + red, and gold, and brown. This great master painter can whistle like a + blackbird. There he stood with his color-pot in his hand, and that was the + whole of his luggage. + </p> + <p> + A landowner followed, who in the month for sowing seed attends to his + ploughing and is fond of field sports. SQUIRE OCTOBER brought his dog and + his gun with him, and had nuts in his game-bag. + </p> + <p> + “Crack! Crack!” He had a great deal of luggage, even a plough. He spoke of + farming, but what he said could scarcely be heard for the coughing and + sneezing of his neighbor. + </p> + <p> + It WAS NOVEMBER, who coughed violently as he got out. He had a cold, but + he said he thought it would leave him when he went out woodcutting, for he + had to supply wood to the whole parish. He spent his evenings making + skates, for he knew, he said, that in a few weeks they would be needed. + </p> + <p> + At length the last passenger made her appearance,—OLD MOTHER + DECEMBER! The dame was very aged, but her eyes glistened like two stars. + She carried on her arm a flower-pot, in which a little fir tree was + growing. “This tree I shall guard and cherish,” she said, “that it may + grow large by Christmas Eve, and reach from the floor to the ceiling, to + be adorned with lighted candles, golden apples, and toys. I shall sit by + the fireplace, and bring a story-book out of my pocket, and read aloud to + all the little children. Then the toys on the tree will become alive, and + the little waxen Angel at the top will spread out his wings of gold leaf, + and fly down from his green perch. He will kiss every child in the room, + yes, and all the little children who stand out in the street singing a + carol about the 'Star of Bethlehem.'” + </p> + <p> + “Well, now the coach may drive away,” said the sentry; “we will keep all + the twelve months here with us.” + </p> + <p> + “First let the twelve come to me,” said the Captain on duty, “one after + another. The passports I will keep here, each of them for one month. When + that has passed, I shall write the behavior of each stranger on his + passport. MR. JANUARY, have the goodness to come here.” + </p> + <p> + And MR. JANUARY stepped forward. + </p> + <p> + When a year has passed, I think I shall be able to tell you what the + twelve passengers have brought to you, to me, and to all of us. Just now I + do not know, and probably even they do not know themselves, for we live in + strange times. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY + </h2> + <h3> + (FEBRUARY 12) + </h3> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + HE RESCUES THE BIRDS + </h2> + <h3> + BY NOAH BROOKS (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Once, while riding through the country with some other lawyers, Lincoln + was missed from the party, and was seen loitering near a thicket of wild + plum trees where the men had stopped a short time before to water their + horses. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Lincoln?” asked one of the lawyers. + </p> + <p> + “When I saw him last,” answered another, “he had caught two young birds + that the wind had blown out of their nest, and was hunting for the nest to + put them back again.” + </p> + <p> + As Lincoln joined them, the lawyers rallied him on his tender-heartedness, + and he said:— + </p> + <p> + “I could not have slept unless I had restored those little birds to their + mother.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LINCOLN AND THE LITTLE GIRL + </h2> + <h3> + BY CHARLES W. MOORES + </h3> + <p> + In the old days, when Lincoln was one of the leading lawyers of the State, + he noticed a little girl of ten who stood beside a trunk in front of her + home crying bitterly. He stopped to learn what was wrong, and was told + that she was about to miss a long-promised visit to Decatur because the + wagon had not come for her. + </p> + <p> + “You needn't let that trouble you,” was his cheering reply. “Just come + along with me and we shall make it all right.” + </p> + <p> + Lifting the trunk upon his shoulder, and taking the little girl by the + hand, he went through the streets of Springfield, a half-mile to the + railway station, put her and her trunk on the train, and sent her away + with a happiness in her heart that is still there. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + TRAINING FOR THE PRESIDENCY + </h2> + <h3> + BY ORISON SWETT MARDEN + </h3> + <p> + “I meant to take good care of your book, Mr. Crawford,” said the boy, “but + I've damaged it a good deal without intending to, and now I want to make + it right with you. What shall I do to make it good?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what happened to it, Abe?” asked the rich farmer, as he took the + copy of Weems's “Life of Washington” which he had lent young Lincoln, and + looked at the stained leaves and warped binding. “It looks as if it had + been out through all last night's storm. How came you to forget, and leave + it out to soak?” + </p> + <p> + “It was this way, Mr. Crawford,” replied Abe. “I sat up late to read it, + and when I went to bed, I put it away carefully in my bookcase, as I call + it, a little opening between two logs in the wall of our cabin. I dreamed + about General Washington all night. When I woke up I took it out to read a + page or two before I did the chores, and you can't imagine how I felt when + I found it in this shape. It seems that the mud-daubing had got out of the + weather side of that crack, and the rain must have dripped on it three or + four hours before I took it out. I'm sorry, Mr. Crawford, and want to fix + it up with you, if you can tell me how, for I have not got money to pay + for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Crawford, “come and shuck corn three days, and the book + 's yours.” + </p> + <p> + Had Mr. Crawford told young Abraham Lincoln that he had fallen heir to a + fortune the boy could hardly have felt more elated. Shuck corn only three + days, and earn the book that told all about his greatest hero! + </p> + <p> + “I don't intend to shuck corn, split rails, and the like always,” he told + Mrs. Crawford, after he had read the volume. “I'm going to fit myself for + a profession.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what do you want to be, now?” asked Mrs. Crawford in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'll be President!” said Abe with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “You'd make a pretty President with all your tricks and jokes, now, + wouldn't you?” said the farmer's wife. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'll study and get ready,” replied the boy, “and then maybe the + chance will come.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WHY LINCOLN WAS CALLED “HONEST ABE” + </h2> + <h3> + BY NOAH BROOKS + </h3> + <p> + In managing the country store, as in everything that he undertook for + others, Lincoln did his very best. He was honest, civil, ready to do + anything that should encourage customers to come to the place, full of + pleasantries, patient, and alert. + </p> + <p> + On one occasion, finding late at night, when he counted over his cash, + that he had taken a few cents from a customer more than was due, he closed + the store, and walked a long distance to make good the deficiency. + </p> + <p> + At another time, discovering on the scales in the morning a weight with + which he had weighed out a package of tea for a woman the night before, he + saw that he had given her too little for her money. He weighed out what + was due, and carried it to her, much to the surprise of the woman, who had + not known that she was short in the amount of her purchase. + </p> + <p> + Innumerable incidents of this sort are related of Lincoln, and we should + not have space to tell of the alertness with which he sprang to protect + defenseless women from insult, or feeble children from tyranny; for in the + rude community in which he lived, the rights of the defenseless were not + always respected as they should have been. There were bullies then, as + now. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A STRANGER AT FIVE-POINTS + </h2> + <h3> + (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + One afternoon in February, 1860, when the Sunday School of the Five-Point + House of Industry in New York was assembled, the teacher saw a most + remarkable man enter the room and take his place among the others. This + stranger was tall, his frame was gaunt and sinewy, his head powerful, with + determined features overcast by a gentle melancholy. + </p> + <p> + He listened with fixed attention to the exercises. His face expressed such + genuine interest that the teacher, approaching him, suggested that he + might have something to say to the children. + </p> + <p> + The stranger accepted the invitation with evident pleasure. Coming + forward, he began to speak and at once fascinated every child in the room. + His language was beautiful yet simple, his tones were musical, and he + spoke with deep feeling. + </p> + <p> + The faces of the boys and girls drooped sadly as he uttered warnings, and + then brightened with joy as he spoke cheerful words of promise. Once or + twice he tried to close his remarks, but the children shouted: “Go on! Oh! + do go on!” and he was forced to continue. + </p> + <p> + At last he finished his talk and was leaving the room quietly when the + teacher begged to know his name. + </p> + <p> + “Abra'm Lincoln, of Illinois,” was the modest response. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A SOLOMON COME TO JUDGMENT + </h2> + <h3> + BY CHARLES W. MOORES + </h3> + <p> + Lincoln's practical sense and his understanding of human nature enabled + him to save the life of the son of his old Clary's Grove friend, Jack + Armstrong, who was on trial for murder. Lincoln, learning of it, went to + the old mother who had been kind to him in the days of his boyhood + poverty, and promised her that he would get her boy free. + </p> + <p> + The witnesses were sure that Armstrong was guilty, and one of them + declared that he had seen the fatal blow struck. It was late at night, he + said, and the light of the full moon had made it possible for him to see + the crime committed. Lincoln, on cross-examination, asked him only + questions enough to make the jury see that it was the full moon that made + it possible for the witness to see what occurred; got him to say two or + three times that he was sure of it, and seemed to give up any further + effort to save the boy. + </p> + <p> + But when the evidence was finished, and Lincoln's time came to make his + argument, he called for an almanac, which the clerk of the court had ready + for him, and handed it to the jury. They saw at once that on the night of + the murder there was no moon at all. They were satisfied that the witness + had told what was not true. Lincoln's case was won. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + GEORGE PICKETT'S FRIEND + </h2> + <h3> + BY CHARLES W. MOORES + </h3> + <p> + George Pickett, who had known Lincoln in Illinois, years before, joined + the Southern army, and by his conspicuous bravery and ability had become + one of the great generals of the Confederacy. Toward the close of the war, + when a large part of Virginia had fallen into the possession of the Union + army, the President called at General Pickett's Virginia home. + </p> + <p> + The general's wife, with her baby on her arm, met him at the door. She + herself has told the story for us. + </p> + <p> + “'Is this George Pickett's home?' he asked. + </p> + <p> + “With all the courage and dignity I could muster, I replied: 'Yes, and I + am his wife, and this is his baby.' + </p> + <p> + “'I am Abraham Lincoln.' + </p> + <p> + “'The President!' I gasped. I had never seen him, but I knew the intense + love and reverence with which my soldier always spoke of him. + </p> + <p> + “The stranger shook his head and replied: 'No; Abraham Lincoln, George's + old friend.' + </p> + <p> + “The baby pushed away from me and reached out his hands to Mr. Lincoln, + who took him in his arms. As he did so an expression of rapt, almost + divine tenderness and love lighted up the sad face. It was a look that I + have never seen on any other face. The baby opened his mouth wide and + insisted upon giving his father's friend a dewy kiss. + </p> + <p> + “As Mr. Lincoln gave the little one back to me he said: 'Tell your father, + the rascal, that I forgive him for the sake of your bright eyes.'” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LINCOLN THE LAWYER + </h2> + <h3> + BY Z. A. MUDGE (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + He delighted to advocate the cases of those whom he knew to be wronged, + but he would not defend the cause of the guilty. If he discovered in the + course of a trial that he was on the wrong side, he lost all interest, and + ceased to make any exertion. + </p> + <p> + Once, while engaged in a prosecution, he discovered that his client's + cause was not a good one, and he refused to make the plea. His associate, + who was less scrupulous, made the plea and obtained a decision in their + favor. The fee was nine hundred dollars, half of which was tendered to Mr. + Lincoln, but he refused to accept a single cent of it. + </p> + <p> + His honesty was strongly illustrated by the way he kept his accounts with + his law-partner. When he had taken a fee in the latter's absence, he put + one half of it into his own pocket, and laid the other half carefully + away, labeling it “Billy,” the name by which he familiarly addressed his + partner. When asked why he did not make a record of the amount and, for + the time being, use the whole, Mr. Lincoln answered: “Because I promised + my mother never to use money belonging to another person.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE COURAGE OF HIS CONVICTIONS + </h2> + <h3> + (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Mr. Lincoln made the great speech of his famous senatorial campaign at + Springfield, Illinois. The convention before which he spoke consisted of a + thousand delegates together with the crowd that had gathered with them. + </p> + <p> + His speech was carefully prepared. Every sentence was guarded and + emphatic. It has since become famous as “The Divided House” speech. Before + entering the hall where it was to be delivered, he stepped into the office + of his law-partner, Mr. Herndon, and, locking the door, so that their + interview might be private, took his manuscript from his pocket, and read + one of the opening sentences: “I believe this government cannot endure + permanently, half slave and half free.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Herndon remarked that the sentiment was true, but suggested that it + might not be GOOD POLICY to utter it at that time. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lincoln replied with great firmness: “No matter about the POLICY. It + is TRUE, and the nation is entitled to it. The proposition has been true + for six thousand years, and I will deliver it as it is written.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MR. LINCOLN AND THE BIBLE + </h2> + <h3> + BY Z. A. MUDGE (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + A visitor in Washington once had an appointment to see Mr. Lincoln at five + o'clock in the morning. The gentleman made a hasty toilet and presented + himself at a quarter of five in the waiting-room of the President. He + asked the usher if he could see Mr. Lincoln. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “But I have an engagement to meet him this morning,” answered the visitor. + </p> + <p> + “At what hour?” asked the usher. + </p> + <p> + “At five o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, he will see you at five.” + </p> + <p> + The visitor waited patiently, walking to and fro for a few minutes, when + he heard a voice as if in grave conversation. + </p> + <p> + “Who is talking in the next room?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “It is the President, sir,” said the usher, who then explained that it was + Mr. Lincoln's custom to spend every morning from four to five reading the + Scriptures, and praying. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + HIS SPRINGFIELD FAREWELL ADDRESS + </h2> + <p> + It was on the morning of February 11, 1861, that the President-elect, + together with his family and a small party of friends, bade adieu to the + city of Springfield, which, alas! he was never to see again. + </p> + <p> + A large throng of Springfield citizens assembled at the railway station to + see the departure, and before the train left Mr. Lincoln addressed them in + the following words:— + </p> + <p> + “MY FRIENDS: No one, not in my position, can appreciate the sadness I feel + at this parting. To this people I owe all that I am. Here I have lived + more than a quarter of a century; here my children were born, and here one + of them lies buried. I know not how soon I shall see you again. A duty + devolves upon me which is, perhaps, greater than that which has devolved + upon any other man since the days of Washington. He never would have + succeeded except by the aid of Divine Providence, upon which he at all + times relied. I feel that I cannot succeed without the same Divine aid + which sustained him, and on the same Almighty Being I place my reliance + for support; and I hope you, my friends, will all pray that I may receive + that Divine assistance, without which I cannot succeed, but with which + success is certain. Again I bid you an affectionate farewell.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SAINT VALENTINE'S DAY + </h2> + <h3> + (FEBRUARY 14) + </h3> + <p> + SAINT VALENTINE + </p> + <p> + The good Saint Valentine was a priest at Rome in the days of Claudius II. + He and Saint Marius aided the Christian martyrs, and for this kind deed + Saint Valentine was apprehended and dragged before the Prefect of Rome, + who condemned him to be beaten to death with clubs and to have his head + cut off. He suffered martyrdom on the 14th day of February, about the year + 270. + </p> + <p> + At that time it was the custom in Rome, a very ancient custom, indeed, to + celebrate in the month of February the Lupercalia, feasts in honor of a + heathen god. + </p> + <p> + On these occasions, amidst a variety of pagan ceremonies, the names of + young women were placed in a box, from which they were drawn by the men as + chance directed. + </p> + <p> + The pastors of the early Christian Church in Rome endeavored to do away + with the pagan element in these feasts by substituting the names of saints + for those of maidens. And as the Lupercalia began about the middle of + February, the pastors appear to have chosen Saint Valentine's Day for the + celebration of this new feast. + </p> + <p> + So it seems that the custom of young men choosing maidens for valentines, + or saints as patrons for the coming year, arose in this wise. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A PRISONER'S VALENTINE + </h2> + <h3> + BY MILLICENT OLMSTED (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Charles, Duke of Orleans, who was taken prisoner at the battle of + Agincourt in 1415, and detained in England twenty-five years, was the + author of the earliest known written valentines. He left about sixty of + them. They were written during his confinement in the Tower of London, and + are still to be seen among the royal papers in the British Museum. + </p> + <p> + One of his valentines reads as follows:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Wilt thou be mine? dear Love, reply— + Sweetly consent or else deny. + Whisper softly, none shall know, + Wilt thou be mine, Love?—aye or no? + + “Spite of Fortune, we may be + Happy by one word from thee. + Life flies swiftly—ere it go + Wilt thou be mine, Love?—aye or no?” + </pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A GIRL'S VALENTINE CHARM + </h2> + <h3> + AS TOLD BY HERSELF + </h3> + <p> + (FROM THE CONNOISSEUR, 1775) + </p> + <p> + Last Friday was Valentine's Day, and I'll tell you what I did the night + before. I got five bay leaves, and pinned four of them to the four corners + of my pillow, and the fifth to the middle; and then if I dreamt of my + sweetheart, Betty said we would be married before the year was out. + </p> + <p> + But to make it more sure, I boiled an egg hard, and took out the yolk, and + filled it with salt, and when I went to bed ate it, shell and all, without + speaking or drinking after it. + </p> + <p> + We also wrote our lovers' names upon bits of paper, and rolled them up in + clay and put them into water; and the first that rose up was to be our + valentine. Would you think it? Mr. Blossom was my man, and I lay abed and + shut my eyes all the morning, till he came to our house, for I would not + have seen another man before him for all the world. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MR. PEPYS HIS VALENTINE + </h2> + <h3> + AS RELATED BY HIMSELF IN 1666 + </h3> + <p> + (ADAPTED) + </p> + <p> + This morning, came up to my wife's bedside, I being up dressing myself, + little Will Mercer, to be her valentine; and brought her name writ upon + blue paper in gold letters, done by himself, very pretty; and we were both + well pleased with it. + </p> + <p> + But I am also this year my wife's valentine; and it will cost me five + pounds; but that I must have laid out if we had not been valentines. + </p> + <p> + I find also that Mrs. Pierce's little girl is my valentine, she having + drawn me; which I am not sorry for, it easing me of something more that I + must have given to others. + </p> + <p> + But here I do first observe the fashion of drawing of mottoes as well as + names; so that Pierce, who drew my wife, did draw also a motto, and this + girl drew another for me. What mine was I have forgot, but my wife's was: + “Most virtuous and most fair,” which, as it may be used, or an anagram + made upon each name, might be; very pretty. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CUPID AND PSYCHE + </h2> + <h3> + BY JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY + </h3> + <p> + THE ENCHANTED PALACE + </p> + <p> + Once upon a time, through that Destiny that overrules the gods, Love + himself gave up his immortal heart to a mortal maiden. And thus it came to + pass:— + </p> + <p> + There was a certain king who had three beautiful daughters. The two elder + married princes of great renown; but Psyche, the youngest, was so + radiantly fair that no suitor seemed worthy of her. People thronged to see + her pass through the city, and sang hymns in her praise, while strangers + took her for the very goddess of beauty herself. + </p> + <p> + This angered Venus, and she resolved to cast down her earthly rival. One + day, therefore, she called hither her son, Love (Cupid, some name him), + and bade him sharpen his weapons. He is an archer more to be dreaded than + Apollo, for Apollo's arrows take life, but Love's bring joy or sorrow for + a whole life long. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Love,” said Venus. “There is a mortal maid who robs me of my honors + in yonder city. Avenge your mother. Wound this precious Psyche, and let + her fall in love with some churlish creature mean in the eyes of all men.” + </p> + <p> + Cupid made ready his weapons, and flew down to earth invisibly. At that + moment Psyche was asleep in her chamber; but he touched her heart with his + golden arrow of love, and she opened her eyes so suddenly that he started + (forgetting that he was invisible), and wounded himself with his own + shaft. Heedless of the hurt, moved only by the loveliness of the maiden, + he hastened to pour over her locks the healing joy that he ever kept by + him, undoing all his work. Back to her dream the princess went, unshadowed + by any thought of love. But Cupid, not so light of heart, returned to the + heavens, saying not a word of what had passed. + </p> + <p> + Venus waited long; then, seeing that Psyche's heart had somehow escaped + love, she sent a spell upon the maiden. From that time, lovely as she was, + not a suitor came to woo; and her parents, who desired to see her a queen + at least, made a journey to the Oracle, and asked counsel. + </p> + <p> + Said the voice: “The Princess Psyche shall never wed a mortal. She shall + be given to one who waits for her on yonder mountain; he overcomes gods + and men.” + </p> + <p> + At this terrible sentence the poor parents were half-distraught, and the + people gave themselves up to grief at the fate in store for their beloved + princess. Psyche alone bowed to her destiny. “We have angered Venus + unwittingly,” she said, “and all for sake of me, heedless maiden that I + am! Give me up, therefore, dear father and mother. If I atone, it may be + that the city will prosper once more.” + </p> + <p> + So she besought them, until, after many unavailing denials, the parents + consented; and with a great company of people they led Psyche up the + mountain,—as an offering to the monster of whom the Oracle had + spoken,—and left her there alone. + </p> + <p> + Full of courage, yet in a secret agony of grief, she watched her kindred + and her people wind down the mountain-path, too sad to look back, until + they were lost to sight. Then, indeed, she wept, but a sudden breeze drew + near, dried her tears, and caressed her hair, seeming to murmur comfort. + In truth, it was Zephyr, the kindly West Wind, come to befriend her; and + as she took heart, feeling some benignant presence, he lifted her in his + arms, and carried her on wings as even as a sea-gull's, over the crest of + the fateful mountain and into a valley below. There he left her, resting + on a bank of hospitable grass, and there the princess fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + When she awoke, it was near sunset. She looked about her for some sign of + the monster's approach; she wondered, then, if her grievous trial had been + but a dream. Near by she saw a sheltering forest, whose young trees seemed + to beckon as one maid beckons to another; and eager for the protection of + the dryads, she went thither. + </p> + <p> + The call of running waters drew her farther and farther, till she came out + upon an open place, where there was a wide pool. A fountain fluttered + gladly in the midst of it, and beyond there stretched a white palace + wonderful to see. Coaxed by the bright promise of the place, she drew + near, and, seeing no one, entered softly. It was all kinglier than her + father's home, and as she stood in wonder and awe, soft airs stirred about + her. Little by little the silence grew murmurous like the woods, and one + voice, sweeter than the rest, took words. “All that you see is yours, + gentle high princess,” it said. “Fear nothing; only command us, for we are + here to serve you.” + </p> + <p> + Full of amazement and delight, Psyche followed the voice from hall to + hall, and through the lordly rooms, beautiful with everything that could + delight a young princess. No pleasant thing was lacking. There was even a + pool, brightly tiled and fed with running waters, where she bathed her + weary limbs; and after she had put on the new and beautiful raiment that + lay ready for her, she sat down to break her fast, waited upon and sung to + by the unseen spirits. + </p> + <p> + Surely he whom the Oracle had called her husband was no monster, but some + beneficent power, invisible like all the rest. When daylight waned he + came, and his voice, the beautiful voice of a god, inspired her to trust + her strange destiny and to look and long for his return. Often she begged + him to stay with her through the day, that she might see his face; but + this he would not grant. + </p> + <p> + “Never doubt me, dearest Psyche,” said he. “Perhaps you would fear if you + saw me, and love is all I ask. There is a necessity that keeps me hidden + now. Only believe.” + </p> + <p> + So for many days Psyche was content; but when she grew used to happiness, + she thought once more of her parents mourning her as lost, and of her + sisters who shared the lot of mortals while she lived as a goddess. One + night she told her husband of these regrets, and begged that her sisters + at least might come to see her. He sighed, but did not refuse. + </p> + <p> + “Zephyr shall bring them hither,” said he. And on the following morning, + swift as a bird, the West Wind came over the crest of the high mountain + and down into the enchanted valley, bearing her two sisters. + </p> + <p> + They greeted Psyche with joy and amazement, hardly knowing how they had + come hither. But when this fairest of the sisters led them through her + palace and showed them all the treasures that were hers, envy grew in + their hearts and choked their old love. Even while they sat at feast with + her, they grew more and more bitter; and hoping to find some little flaw + in her good fortune, they asked a thousand questions. + </p> + <p> + “Where is your husband?” said they. “And why is he not here with you?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” stammered Psyche. “All the day long—he is gone, hunting upon + the mountains.” + </p> + <p> + “But what does he look like?” they asked; and Psyche could find no answer. + </p> + <p> + When they learned that she had never seen him, they laughed her faith to + scorn. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Psyche,” they said. “You are walking in a dream. Wake, before it is + too late. Have you forgotten what the Oracle decreed,—that you were + destined for a dreadful creature, the fear of gods and men? And are you + deceived by this show of kindliness? We have come to warn you. The people + told us, as we came over the mountain, that your husband is a dragon, who + feeds you well for the present, that he may feast the better, some day + soon. What is it that you trust? Good words! But only take a dagger some + night, and when the monster is asleep go, light a lamp, and look at him. + You can put him to death easily, and all his riches will be yours—and + ours.” + </p> + <p> + Psyche heard this wicked plan with horror. Nevertheless, after her sisters + were gone, she brooded over what they had said, not seeing their evil + intent; and she came to find some wisdom in their words. Little by little, + suspicion ate, like a moth, into her lovely mind; and at nightfall, in + shame and fear, she hid a lamp and a dagger in her chamber. Towards + midnight, when her husband was fast asleep, up she rose, hardly daring to + breathe; and coming softly to his side, she uncovered the lamp to see some + horror. + </p> + <p> + But there the youngest of the gods lay sleeping,—most beautiful, + most irresistible of all immortals. His hair shone golden as the sun, his + face was radiant as dear Springtime, and from his shoulders sprang two + rainbow wings. + </p> + <p> + Poor Psyche was overcome with self-reproach. As she leaned towards him, + filled with worship, her trembling hands held the lamp ill, and some + burning oil fell upon Love's shoulder and awakened him. + </p> + <p> + He opened his eyes, to see at once his bride and the dark suspicion in her + heart. + </p> + <p> + “O doubting Psyche!” he exclaimed with sudden grief,—and then he + flew away, out of the window. + </p> + <p> + Wild with sorrow, Psyche tried to follow, but she fell to the ground + instead. When she recovered her senses, she stared about her. She was + alone, and the place was beautiful no longer. Garden and palace had + vanished with Love. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE TRIAL OF PSYCHE: + </h2> + <p> + Over mountains and valleys Psyche journeyed alone until she came to the + city where her two envious sisters lived with the princes whom they had + married. She stayed with them only long enough to tell the story of her + unbelief and its penalty. Then she set out again to search for Love. + </p> + <p> + As she wandered one day, travel-worn but not hopeless, she saw a lofty + palace on a hill near by, and she turned her steps thither. The place + seemed deserted. Within the hall she saw no human being,—only heaps + of grain, loose ears of corn half torn from the husk, wheat and barley, + alike scattered in confusion on the floor. Without delay, she set to work + binding the sheaves together and gathering the scattered ears of corn in + seemly wise, as a princess would wish to see them. While she was in the + midst of her task, a voice startled her, and she looked up to behold + Demeter herself, the goddess of the harvest, smiling upon her with good + will. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Psyche,” said Demeter, “you are worthy of happiness, and you may + find it yet. But since you have displeased Venus, go to her and ask her + favor. Perhaps your patience will win her pardon.” + </p> + <p> + These motherly words gave Psyche heart, and she reverently took leave of + the goddess and set out for the temple of Venus. Most humbly she offered + up her prayer, but Venus could not look at her earthly beauty without + anger. + </p> + <p> + “Vain girl,” said she, “perhaps you have come to make amends for the wound + you dealt your husband; you shall do so. Such clever people can always + find work!” + </p> + <p> + Then she led Psyche into a great chamber heaped high with mingled grain, + beans, and lentils (the food of her doves), and bade her separate them all + and have them ready in seemly fashion by night. Heracles would have been + helpless before such a vexatious task; and poor Psyche, left alone in this + desert of grain, had not courage to begin. But even as she sat there, a + moving thread of black crawled across the floor from a crevice in the + wall; and bending nearer, she saw that a great army of ants in columns had + come to her aid. The zealous little creatures worked in swarms, with such + industry over the work they like best, that, when Venus came at night, she + found the task completed. + </p> + <p> + “Deceitful girl,” she cried, shaking the roses out of her hair with + impatience, “this is my son's work, not yours. But he will soon forget + you. Eat this black bread if you are hungry, and refresh your dull mind + with sleep. To-morrow you will need more wit.” + </p> + <p> + Psyche wondered what new misfortune could be in store for her. But when + morning came, Venus led her to the brink of a river, and, pointing to the + wood across the water, said: “Go now to yonder grove where the sheep with + the golden fleece are wont to browse. Bring me a golden lock from every + one of them, or you must go your ways and never come back again.” + </p> + <p> + This seemed not difficult, and Psyche obediently bade the goddess + farewell, and stepped into the water, ready to wade across. But as Venus + disappeared, the reeds sang louder and the nymphs of the river, looking up + sweetly, blew bubbles to the surface and murmured: “Nay, nay, have a care, + Psyche. This flock has not the gentle ways of sheep. While the sun burns + aloft, they are themselves as fierce as flame; but when the shadows are + long, they go to rest and sleep, under the trees; and you may cross the + river without fear and pick the golden fleece off the briers in the + pasture.” + </p> + <p> + Thanking the water-creatures, Psyche sat down to rest near them, and when + the time came, she crossed in safety and followed their counsel. By + twilight she returned to Venus with her arms full of shining fleece. + </p> + <p> + “No mortal wit did this,” said Venus angrily. “But if you care to prove + your readiness, go now, with this little box, down to Proserpina and ask + her to enclose in it some of her beauty, for I have grown pale in caring + for my wounded son.” + </p> + <p> + It needed not the last taunt to sadden Psyche. She knew that it was not + for mortals to go into Hades and return alive; and feeling that Love had + forsaken her, she was minded to accept her doom as soon as might be. + </p> + <p> + But even as she hastened towards the descent, another friendly voice + detained her. “Stay, Psyche, I know your grief. Only give ear and you + shall learn a safe way through all these trials.” And the voice went on to + tell her how one might avoid all the dangers of Hades and come out + unscathed. (But such a secret could not pass from mouth to mouth, with the + rest of the story.) + </p> + <p> + “And be sure,” added the voice, “when Proserpina has returned the box, not + to open it, ever much you may long to do so.” + </p> + <p> + Psyche gave heed, and by this device, whatever it was, she found her way + into Hades safely, and made her errand known to Proserpina, and was soon + in the upper world again, wearied but hopeful. + </p> + <p> + “Surely Love has not forgotten me,” she said. “But humbled as I am and + worn with toil, how shall I ever please him? Venus can never need all the + beauty in this casket; and since I use it for Love's sake, it must be + right to take some.” So saying, she opened the box, heedless as Pandora! + The spells and potions of Hades are not for mortal maids, and no sooner + had she inhaled the strange aroma than she fell down like one dead, quite + overcome. + </p> + <p> + But it happened that Love himself was recovered from his wound, and he had + secretly fled from his chamber to seek out and rescue Psyche. He found her + lying by the wayside; he gathered into the casket what remained of the + philter, and awoke his beloved. + </p> + <p> + “Take comfort,” he said, smiling. “Return to our mother and do her bidding + till I come again.” + </p> + <p> + Away he flew; and while Psyche went cheerily homeward, he hastened up to + Olympus, where all the gods sat feasting, and begged them to intercede for + him with his angry mother. + </p> + <p> + They heard his story and their hearts were touched. Zeus himself coaxed + Venus with kind words till at last she relented, and remembered that anger + hurt her beauty, and smiled once more. All the younger gods were for + welcoming Psyche at once, and Hermes was sent to bring her hither. The + maiden came, a shy newcomer among those bright creatures. She took the cup + that Hebe held out to her, drank the divine ambrosia, and became immortal. + </p> + <p> + Light came to her face like moonrise, two radiant wings sprang from her + shoulders; and even as a butterfly bursts from its dull cocoon, so the + human Psyche blossomed into immortality. + </p> + <p> + Love took her by the hand, and they were never parted any more. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY + </h2> + <h3> + (FEBRUARY 22) + </h3> + <p> + THREE OLD TALES BY M. L. WEEMS (ADAPTED) <a name="link2H_4_0025" + id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. THE CHERRY TREE + </h2> + <p> + When George was about six years old, he was made the wealthy master of a + hatchet of which, like most little boys, he was extremely fond. He went + about chopping everything that came his way. + </p> + <p> + One day, as he wandered about the garden amusing himself by hacking his + mother's pea-sticks, he found a beautiful, young English cherry tree, of + which his father was most proud. He tried the edge of his hatchet on the + trunk of the tree and barked it so that it died. + </p> + <p> + Some time after this, his father discovered what had happened to his + favorite tree. He came into the house in great anger, and demanded to know + who the mischievous person was who had cut away the bark. Nobody could + tell him anything about it. + </p> + <p> + Just then George, with his little hatchet, came into the room. + </p> + <p> + “George,” said his father, “do you know who has killed my beautiful little + cherry tree yonder in the garden? I would not have taken five guineas for + it!” + </p> + <p> + This was a hard question to answer, and for a moment George was staggered + by it, but quickly recovering himself he cried:— + </p> + <p> + “I cannot tell a lie, father, you know I cannot tell a lie! I did cut it + with my little hatchet.” + </p> + <p> + The anger died out of his father's face, and taking the boy tenderly in + his arms, he said:— + </p> + <p> + “My son, that you should not be afraid to tell the truth is more to me + than a thousand trees! yes, though they were blossomed with silver and had + leaves of the purest gold!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. THE APPLE ORCHARD + </h2> + <p> + One fine morning in the autumn Mr. Washington, taking little George by the + hand, walked with him to the apple orchard, promising that he would show + him a fine sight. + </p> + <p> + On arriving at the orchard they saw a fine sight, indeed! The green grass + under the trees was strewn with red-cheeked apples, and yet the trees were + bending under the weight of fruit that hung thick among the leaves. + </p> + <p> + “Now, George,” said his father, “look, my son, see all this rich harvest + of fruit! Do you remember when your good cousin brought you a fine, large + apple last spring, how you refused to divide it with your brothers? And + yet I told you then that, if you would be generous, God would give you + plenty of apples this autumn.” + </p> + <p> + Poor George could not answer, but hanging down his head looked quite + confused, while with his little, naked, bare feet he scratched in the soft + ground. + </p> + <p> + “Now, look up, my son,” continued his father, “and see how the blessed God + has richly provided us with these trees loaded with the finest fruit. See + how abundant is the harvest. Some of the trees are bending beneath their + burdens, while the ground is covered with mellow apples, more than you + could eat, my son, in all your lifetime.” + </p> + <p> + George looked in silence on the orchard, he marked the busy, humming bees, + and heard the gay notes of the birds fluttering from tree to tree. His + eyes filled with tears and he answered softly:— + </p> + <p> + “Truly, father, I never will be selfish any more.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. THE GARDEN-BED + </h2> + <p> + One day Mr. Washington went into the garden and dug a little bed of earth + and prepared it for seed. He then took a stick and traced on the bed + George's name in full. After this he strewed the tracing thickly with + seeds, and smoothed all over nicely with his roller. + </p> + <p> + This garden-bed he purposely prepared close to a gooseberry-walk. The + bushes were hung with the ripe fruit, and he knew that George would visit + them every morning. + </p> + <p> + Not many days had passed away when one morning George came running into + the house, breathless with excitement, and his eyes shining with + happiness. + </p> + <p> + “Come here! father, come here!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter, my son?” asked his father. + </p> + <p> + “O come, father,” answered George, “and I'll show you such a sight as you + have never seen in all your lifetime.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Washington gave the boy his hand, which he seized with great + eagerness. He led his father straight to the garden-bed, whereon in large + letters, in lines of soft green, was written:— + </p> + <p> + GEORGE WASHINGTON <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + YOUNG GEORGE AND THE COLT + </h2> + <h3> + BY HORACE E. SCUDDER + </h3> + <p> + There is a story told of George Washington's boyhood,—unfortunately + there are not many stories,—which is to the point. His father had + taken a great deal of pride in his blooded horses, and his mother + afterward took pains to keep the stock pure. She had several young horses + that had not yet been broken, and one of them in particular, a sorrel, was + extremely spirited. No one had been able to do anything with it, and it + was pronounced thoroughly vicious as people are apt to pronounce horses + which they have not learned to master. + </p> + <p> + George was determined to ride this colt, and told his companions that if + they would help him catch it, he would ride and tame it. + </p> + <p> + Early in the morning they set out for the pasture, where the boys managed + to surround the sorrel, and then to put a bit into its mouth. Washington + sprang upon its back, the boys dropped the bridle, and away flew the angry + animal. + </p> + <p> + Its rider at once began to command. The horse resisted, backing about the + field, rearing and plunging. The boys became thoroughly alarmed, but + Washington kept his seat, never once losing his self-control or his + mastery of the colt. + </p> + <p> + The struggle was a sharp one; when suddenly, as if determined to rid + itself of its rider, the creature leaped into the air with a tremendous + bound. It was its last. The violence burst a blood-vessel, and the noble + horse fell dead. + </p> + <p> + Before the boys could sufficiently recover to consider how they should + extricate themselves from the scrape, they were called to breakfast; and + the mistress of the house, knowing that they had been in the fields, began + to ask after her stock. + </p> + <p> + “Pray, young gentlemen,” said she, “have you seen my blooded colts in your + rambles? I hope they are well taken care of. My favorite, I am told, is as + large as his sire.” + </p> + <p> + The boys looked at one another, and no one liked to speak. Of course the + mother repeated her question. + </p> + <p> + “The sorrel is dead, madam,” said her son, “I killed him.” + </p> + <p> + And then he told the whole story. They say that his mother flushed with + anger, as her son often used to, and then, like him, controlled herself, + and presently said, quietly:— + </p> + <p> + “It is well; but while I regret the loss of my favorite, I rejoice in my + son who always speaks the truth.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WASHINGTON THE ATHLETE + </h2> + <h3> + BY ALBERT F. BLAISDELL AND FRANCIS E. BALL + </h3> + <p> + Many stories are told of the mighty power of Washington's right arm. It is + said that he once threw a stone from the bed of the stream to the top of + the Natural Bridge, in Virginia. + </p> + <p> + Again, we are told that once upon a time he rounded a piece of slate to + the size of a silver dollar, and threw it across the Rappahannock at + Fredericksburg, the slate falling at least thirty feet on the other side. + Many strong men have since tried the same feat, but have never cleared the + water. + </p> + <p> + Peale, who was called the soldier-artist, was once visiting Washington at + Mount Vernon. One day, he tells us, some athletic young men were pitching + the iron bar in the presence of their host. Suddenly, without taking off + his coat, Washington grasped the bar and hurled it, with little effort, + much farther than any of them had done. + </p> + <p> + “We were, indeed, amazed,” said one of the young men, “as we stood round, + all stripped to the buff, and having thought ourselves very clever + fellows, while the Colonel, on retiring, pleasantly said:— + </p> + <p> + “'When you beat my pitch, young gentlemen, I'll try again.'” + </p> + <p> + At another time, Washington witnessed a wrestling-match. The champion of + the day challenged him, in sport, to wrestle. Washington did not stop to + take off his coat, but grasped the “strong man of Virginia.” It was all + over in a moment, for, said the wrestler, “In Washington's lionlike grasp + I became powerless, and was hurled to the ground with a force that seemed + to jar the very marrow in my bones.” + </p> + <p> + In the days of the Revolution, some of the riflemen and the backwoodsmen + were men of gigantic strength, but it was generally believed by good + judges that their commander-in-chief was the strongest man in the army. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WASHINGTON'S MODESTY + </h2> + <h3> + BY HENRY CABOT LODGE (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Washington as soon as Fort Duquesne had fallen hurried home, resigned his + commission, and was married. The sunshine and glitter of the wedding day + must have appeared to Washington deeply appropriate, for he certainly + seemed to have all that heart of man could desire. Just twenty-seven, in + the first flush of young manhood, keen of sense and yet wise in + experience, life must have looked very fair and smiling. He had left the + army with a well-earned fame, and had come home to take the wife of his + choice, and enjoy the good will and respect of all men. + </p> + <p> + While away on his last campaign he had been elected a member of the House + of Burgesses, and when he took his seat, on removing to Williamsburg, + three months after his marriage, Mr. Robinson, the Speaker, thanked him + publicly in eloquent words for his services to the country. + </p> + <p> + Washington rose to reply, but he was so utterly unable to talk about + himself that he stood before the House stammering and blushing until the + Speaker said:— + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Mr. Washington, your modesty equals your valor, and that + surpasses the power of any language I possess.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WASHINGTON AT YORKTOWN + </h2> + <h3> + BY HENRY CABOT LODGE + </h3> + <p> + During the assault Washington stood in an embrasure of the grand battery, + watching the advance of the men. He was always given to exposing himself + recklessly when there was fighting to be done, but not when he was only an + observer. + </p> + <p> + This night, however, he was much exposed to the enemy's fire. One of his + aides, anxious and disturbed for his safety, told him that the place was + perilous. + </p> + <p> + “If you think so,” was the quiet answer, “you are at liberty to step + back.” + </p> + <p> + The moment was too exciting, too fraught with meaning, to think of peril. + The old fighting spirit of Braddock's field was unchained for the last + time. He would have liked to head the American assault, sword in hand, and + as he could not do that, he stood as near his troops as he could, utterly + regardless of the bullets whistling in the air about him. Who can wonder + at his intense excitement at that moment? + </p> + <p> + Others saw a brilliant storming of two out-works, but to Washington the + whole Revolution and all the labor and thought and conflict of six years + were culminating in the smoke and din on those redoubts, while out of the + dust and heat of the sharp, quick fight success was coming. + </p> + <p> + He had waited long, and worked hard, and his whole soul went out as he + watched the troops cross the abatis and scale the works. He could have no + thought of danger then, and when all was over, he turned to Knox and said:— + </p> + <p> + “The work is done, and well done. Bring me my horse.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + RESURRECTION DAY (EASTER) + </h2> + <h3> + (MARCH OR APRIL) + </h3> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A LESSON OF FAITH + </h2> + <h3> + BY MRS. ALFRED GATTY (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + “Let me hire you as a nurse for my poor children,” said a butterfly to a + quiet caterpillar, who was strolling along a cabbage-leaf in her odd, + lumbering fashion. + </p> + <p> + “See these little eggs,” continued the butterfly; “I do not know how long + it will be before they come to life, and I feel very sick. If I should + die, who will take care of my baby butterflies when I am gone? Will you, + kind, mild, green caterpillar? They cannot, of course, live on your rough + food. You must give them early dew, and honey from the flowers, and you + must let them fly about only a little way at first. Dear me! it is a sad + pity that you cannot fly yourself. Dear, dear! I cannot think what made me + come and lay my eggs on a cabbage-leaf! What a place for young butterflies + to be bore upon! Here, take this gold-dust from my wings as a reward. Oh, + how dizzy I am! Caterpillar! you will remember about the food—” + </p> + <p> + And with these words the butterfly drooped her wings and died. The green + caterpillar, who had not had the opportunity of even saying “yes” or “no” + to the request, was left standing alone by the side of the butterfly's + eggs. + </p> + <p> + “A pretty nurse she has chosen, indeed, poor lady!” exclaimed she, “and a + pretty business I have in hand. Why did she ever ask a poor crawling + creature like me to bring up her dainty little ones! Much they'll mind me, + truly, when they feel the gay wings on their backs, and can fly away.” + </p> + <p> + However, the poor butterfly was dead, and there lay the eggs on the + cabbage-leaf, and the green caterpillar had a kind heart, so she resolved + to do her best. + </p> + <p> + “But two heads are better than one,” said she; “I will consult some wise + animal on the matter.” + </p> + <p> + Then she thought and thought till at last she thought of the lark, and she + fancied that because he went up so high, and nobody knew where he went to, + he must be very clever and know a great deal. + </p> + <p> + Now in the neighboring cornfield there lived a lark, and the caterpillar + sent a message to him, begging him to come and talk to her. When he came + she told him all her difficulties, and asked him how she was to feed and + rear the little butterfly creatures. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you will be able to inquire and learn something about it the next + time you go up high,” said the caterpillar timidly. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I can,” answered the lark; and then he went singing upwards into + the bright, blue sky, till the green caterpillar could not hear a sound, + nor could she see him any more. So she began to walk round the butterfly's + eggs, nibbling a bit of the cabbage-leaf now and then as she moved along. + </p> + <p> + “What a time the lark has been gone!” she cried at last. “I wonder where + he is just now. He must have flown higher than usual this time. How I + should like to know where he goes, and what he hears in that curious blue + sky! He always sings going up and coming down, but he never lets any + secret out.” + </p> + <p> + And the green caterpillar took another turn round the butterfly's eggs. + </p> + <p> + At last the lark's voice began to be heard again. The caterpillar almost + jumped for joy, and it was not long before she saw her friend descend with + hushed note to the cabbage bed. + </p> + <p> + “News, news, glorious news, friend caterpillar!” sang the lark, “but the + worst of it is, you won't believe me!” + </p> + <p> + “I believe anything I am told,” said the caterpillar hastily. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, first of all, I will tell you what those little creatures are + to eat”—and the lark nodded his head toward the eggs. “What do you + think it is to be? Guess!” + </p> + <p> + “Dew and honey out of the flowers, I am afraid!” sighed the caterpillar. + </p> + <p> + “No such thing, my good friend,” cried the lark exultantly; “you are to + feed them with cabbage-leaves!” + </p> + <p> + “Never!” said the caterpillar indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “It was their mother's last request that I should feed them on dew and + honey.” + </p> + <p> + “Their mother knew nothing about the matter,” answered the lark; “but why + do you ask me, and then disbelieve what I say? You have neither faith nor + trust.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I believe everything I am told,” said the caterpillar. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, but you do not,” replied the lark. + </p> + <p> + “Why, caterpillar, what do you think those little eggs will turn out to + be?” + </p> + <p> + “Butterflies, to be sure,” said the caterpillar. + </p> + <p> + “CATERPILLARS!” sang the lark; “and you'll find it out in time.” And the + lark flew away. + </p> + <p> + “I thought the lark was wise and kind,” said the mild, green caterpillar + to herself, once more beginning to walk round the eggs, “but I find that + he is foolish and saucy instead. Perhaps he went up TOO high this time. + How I wonder what he sees, and what he does up yonder!” + </p> + <p> + “I would tell you if you would believe me,” sang the lark, descending once + more. + </p> + <p> + “I believe everything I am told,” answered the caterpillar. + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll tell you something else,” cried the lark. “YOU WILL ONE DAY BE + A BUTTERFLY YOURSELF!” + </p> + <p> + “Wretched bird,” exclaimed the caterpillar, “you are making fun of me. You + are now cruel as well as foolish! Go away! I will ask your advice no + more.” + </p> + <p> + “I told you you would not believe me,” cried the lark. + </p> + <p> + “I believe everything I am told,” persisted the caterpillar,—“everything + that it is REASONABLE to believe. But to tell me that butterflies' eggs + are caterpillars, and that caterpillars leave off crawling and get wings + and become butterflies!—Lark! you do not believe such nonsense + yourself! You know it is impossible!” + </p> + <p> + “I know no such thing,” said the lark. “When I hover over the cornfields, + or go up into the depths of the sky, I see so many wonderful things that I + know there must be more. O caterpillar! it is because you CRAWL, and never + get beyond your cabbage-leaf, that you call anything IMPOSSIBLE.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense,” shouted the caterpillar, “I know what's possible and what's + impossible. Look at my long, green body, and many legs, and then talk to + me about having wings! Fool!” + </p> + <p> + “More foolish you!” cried the indignant lark, “to attempt to reason about + what you cannot understand. Do you not hear how my song swells with + rejoicing as I soar upwards to the mysterious wonder-world above? Oh, + caterpillar, what comes from thence, receive as I do,—on trust.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by that?” asked the caterpillar. + </p> + <p> + “ON FAITH,” answered the lark. + </p> + <p> + “How am I to learn faith?” asked the caterpillar. + </p> + <p> + At that moment she felt something at her side. She looked round,—eight + or ten little green caterpillars were moving about, and had already made a + hole in the cabbage-leaf. They had broken from the butterfly's eggs! + </p> + <p> + Shame and amazement filled the green caterpillar's heart, but joy soon + followed. For as the first wonder was possible, the second might be so + too. + </p> + <p> + “Teach me your lesson, lark,” she cried. + </p> + <p> + And the lark sang to her of the wonders of the earth below and of the + heaven above. And the caterpillar talked all the rest of her life of the + time when she should become a butterfly. + </p> + <p> + But no one believed her. She nevertheless had learned the lark's lesson of + faith, and when she was going into her chrysalis, she said:— + </p> + <p> + “I shall be a butterfly some day!” + </p> + <p> + But her relations thought her head was wandering, and they said, “Poor + thing!” + </p> + <p> + And when she was a butterfly, and was going to die she said:— + </p> + <p> + “I have known many wonders,—I HAVE FAITH,—I can trust even now + for the wonder that shall come next.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0034" id="link2H_4_0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A CHILD'S DREAM OF A STAR + </h2> + <h3> + BY CHARLES DICKENS + </h3> + <p> + There was once a child, and he strolled about a good deal, and thought of + a number of things. He had a sister, who was a child, too, and his + constant companion. These two used to wonder all day long. They wondered + at the beauty of the flowers; they wondered at the height and blueness of + the sky; they wondered at the depth of the bright water; they wondered at + the goodness and the power of God who made the lovely world. + </p> + <p> + They used to say to one another, sometimes: “Supposing all the children + upon earth were to die, would the flowers, and the water, and the sky be + sorry?” They believed they would be sorry. “For,” said they, “the buds are + the children of the flowers, and the little playful streams that gambol + down the hillsides are the children of the water; and the smallest, bright + specks playing at hide and seek in the sky all night, must surely be the + children of the stars; and they would all be grieved to see their + playmates, the children of men, no more.” + </p> + <p> + There was one clear, shining star that used to come out in the sky before + the rest, near the church spire, above the graves. It was larger and more + beautiful, they thought, than all the others, and every night they watched + for it, standing hand in hand at a window. Whoever saw it first cried out: + “I see the star!” And often they cried out both together, knowing so well + when it would rise, and where. So they grew to be such friends with it, + that, before lying down in their beds, they always looked out once again, + to bid it good-night; and when they were turning round to sleep, they used + to say: “God bless the star!” + </p> + <p> + But while she was still very young, oh, very, very young, the sister + drooped, and came to be so weak that she could no longer stand in the + window at night; and then the child looked sadly out by himself, and when + he saw the star turned round and said to the patient, pale face on the + bed: “I see the star!” and then a smile would come upon the face, and a + little weak voice used to say: “God bless my brother and the star!” + </p> + <p> + And so the time came all too soon, when the child looked out alone, and + when there was no face on the bed; and when there was a little grave among + the graves, not there before; and when the star made long rays down + towards him, as he saw it through his tears. + </p> + <p> + Now, these rays were so bright, and they seemed to make such a shining way + from earth to heaven, that when the child went to his solitary bed he + dreamed about the star; and dreamed that, lying where he was, he saw a + train of people taken up that sparkling road by angels. And the star, + opening, showed him a great world of light, where many more such angels + waited to receive them. + </p> + <p> + All these angels, who were waiting, turned their beaming eyes upon the + people who were carried up into the star; and some came out from the long + rows in which they stood, and fell upon the people's necks, and kissed + them tenderly, and went away with them down avenues of light, and were so + happy in their company, that lying in his bed he wept for joy. + </p> + <p> + But there were many angels who did not go with them, and among them one he + knew. The patient face, that once had lain upon the bed, was glorified and + radiant, but his heart found out his sister among all the host. + </p> + <p> + His sister's angel lingered near the entrance of the star, and said to the + leader among those who had brought the people thither:— + </p> + <p> + “Is my brother come?” + </p> + <p> + And he said: “No.” + </p> + <p> + She was turning hopefully away, when the child stretched out his arms, and + cried: “O sister, I am here! Take me!” And then she turned her beaming + eyes upon him, and it was night; and the star was shining into the room, + making long rays down towards him, as he saw it through his tears. + </p> + <p> + From that hour forth, the child looked out upon the star as on the home he + was to go to when his time should come; and he thought that he did not + belong to the earth alone, but to the star, too, because of his sister's + angel gone before. + </p> + <p> + There was a baby born to be a brother to the child; and while he was so + little that he never yet had spoken word, he stretched his tiny form out + on his bed, and died. + </p> + <p> + Again the child dreamed of the open star, and of the company of angels, + and the train of people, and the rows of angels with their beaming eyes + all turned upon those people's faces. + </p> + <p> + Said his sister's angel to the leader:— + </p> + <p> + “Is my brother come?” + </p> + <p> + And he said: “Not that one, but another.” + </p> + <p> + As the child beheld his brother's angel in her arms, he cried: “O sister, + I am here! Take me!” And she turned and smiled upon him, and the star was + shining. + </p> + <p> + He grew to be a young man, and was busy at his books, when an old servant + came to him and said:— + </p> + <p> + “Thy mother is no more. I bring her blessing on her darling son.” + </p> + <p> + Again at night he saw the star, and all that former company. Said his + sister's angel to the leader:— + </p> + <p> + “Is my brother come?” + </p> + <p> + And he said: “Thy mother!” + </p> + <p> + A mighty cry of joy went forth through all the star, because the mother + was reunited to her two children. And he stretched out his arms and cried: + “O mother, sister, and brother, I am here! Take me!” And they answered + him: “Not yet.” And the star was shining. + </p> + <p> + He grew to be a man, whose hair was turning gray, and he was sitting in + his chair by the fireside, heavy with grief, and with his face bedewed + with tears, when the star opened once again. + </p> + <p> + Said his sister's angel to the leader:— + </p> + <p> + “Is my brother come?” + </p> + <p> + And he said: “Nay, but his maiden daughter.” + </p> + <p> + And the man, who had been the child, saw his daughter, newly lost to him, + a celestial creature among those three, and he said: “My daughter's head + is on my sister's bosom, and her arm is around my mother's neck, and at + her feet there is the baby of old time, and I can bear the parting from + her, God be praised!” + </p> + <p> + And the star was shining. + </p> + <p> + Thus the child came to be an old man, and his once smooth face was + wrinkled, and his steps were slow and feeble, and his back was bent. And + one night as he lay upon his bed, his children standing round, he cried, + as he had cried so long ago:— + </p> + <p> + “I see the star!” + </p> + <p> + They whispered one to another: “He is dying.” + </p> + <p> + And he said: “I am. My age is falling from me like a garment, and I move + towards the star as a child. And, O my Father, now I thank Thee that it + has so often opened to receive those dear ones who await me!” + </p> + <p> + And the star was shining; and it shines upon his grave. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0035" id="link2H_4_0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE LOVELIEST ROSE IN THE WORLD + </h2> + <h3> + BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Once there reigned a queen, in whose garden were found the most glorious + flowers at all seasons and from all the lands of the world. But more than + all others she loved the roses, and she had many kinds of this flower, + from the wild dog-rose with its apple-scented green leaves to the most + splendid, large, crimson roses. They grew against the garden walls, wound + themselves around the pillars and wind-frames, and crept through the + windows into the rooms, and all along the ceilings in the halls. And the + roses were of many colors, and of every fragrance and form. + </p> + <p> + But care and sorrow dwelt in those halls. The queen lay upon a sick-bed, + and the doctors said she must die. + </p> + <p> + “There is still one thing that can save her,” said the wise man. “Bring + her the loveliest rose in the world, the rose that is the symbol of the + purest, the brightest love. If that is held before her eyes ere they + close, she will not die.” + </p> + <p> + Then old and young came from every side with roses, the loveliest that + bloomed in each garden, but they were not of the right sort. The flower + was to be plucked from the Garden of Love. But what rose in all that + garden expressed the highest and purest love? + </p> + <p> + And the poets sang of the loveliest rose in the world,—of the love + of maid and youth, and of the love of dying heroes. + </p> + <p> + “But they have not named the right flower,” said the wise man. “They have + not pointed out the place where it blooms in its splendor. It is not the + rose that springs from the hearts of youthful lovers, though this rose + will ever be fragrant in song. It is not the bloom that sprouts from the + blood flowing from the breast of the hero who dies for his country, though + few deaths are sweeter than his, and no rose is redder than the blood that + flows then. Nor is it the wondrous flower to which man devotes many a + sleepless night and much of his fresh life,—the magic flower of + science.” + </p> + <p> + “But I know where it blooms,” said a happy mother, who came with her + pretty child to the bedside of the dying queen. “I know where the + loveliest rose of love may be found. It springs in the blooming cheeks of + my sweet child, when, waking from sleep, it opens its eyes and smiles + tenderly at me.” + </p> + <p> + “Lovely is this rose, but there is a lovelier still,” said the wise man. + </p> + <p> + “I have seen the loveliest, purest rose that blooms,” said a woman. “I saw + it on the cheeks of the queen. She had taken off her golden crown. And in + the long, dreary night she carried her sick child in her arms. She wept, + kissed it, and prayed for her child.” + </p> + <p> + “Holy and wonderful is the white rose of a mother's grief,” answered the + wise man, “but it is not the one we seek.” + </p> + <p> + “The loveliest rose in the world I saw at the altar of the Lord,” said the + good Bishop, “the young maidens went to the Lord's Table. Roses were + blushing and pale roses shining on their fresh cheeks. A young girl stood + there. She looked with all the love and purity of her spirit up to heaven. + That was the expression of the highest and purest love.” + </p> + <p> + “May she be blessed,” said the wise man, “but not one of you has yet named + the loveliest rose in the world.” + </p> + <p> + Then there came into the room a child, the queen's little son. + </p> + <p> + “Mother,” cried the boy, “only hear what I have read.” + </p> + <p> + And the child sat by the bedside and read from the Book of Him who + suffered death upon the cross to save men, and even those who were not yet + born. “Greater love there is not.” + </p> + <p> + And a rosy glow spread over the cheeks of the queen, and her eyes gleamed, + for she saw that from the leaves of the Book there bloomed the loveliest + rose, that sprang from the blood of Christ shed on the cross. + </p> + <p> + “I see it!” she said, “he who beholds this, the loveliest rose on earth, + shall never die.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0036" id="link2H_4_0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MAY DAY + </h2> + <h3> + (MAY 1) + </h3> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0037" id="link2H_4_0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SNOWDROP <a href="#linknote-1" name="linknoteref-1" id="linknoteref-1"><small>1</small></a> + </h2> + <h3> + BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + <a name="linknote-1" id="linknote-1"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 1 (<a href="#linknoteref-1">return</a>)<br /> [ From For the Children's + Hour, by Carolyn Sherwin Bailey and Clara M. Lewis. Copyright by the + Milton Bradley Company.] + </p> + <p> + The snow lay deep, for it was winter-time. The winter winds blew cold, but + there was one house where all was snug and warm. And in the house lay a + little flower; in its bulb it lay, under the earth and the snow. + </p> + <p> + One day the rain fell and it trickled through the ice and snow down into + the ground. And presently a sunbeam, pointed and slender, pierced down + through the earth, and tapped on the bulb. + </p> + <p> + “Come in,” said the flower. + </p> + <p> + “I can't do that,” said the sunbeam; “I'm not strong enough to lift the + latch. I shall be stronger when springtime comes.” + </p> + <p> + “When will it be spring?” asked the flower of every little sunbeam that + rapped on its door. But for a long time it was winter. The ground was + still covered with snow, and every night there was ice in the water. The + flower grew quite tired of waiting. + </p> + <p> + “How long it is!” it said. “I feel quite cramped. I must stretch myself + and rise up a little. I must lift the latch, and look out, and say + 'good-morning' to the spring.” + </p> + <p> + So the flower pushed and pushed. The walls were softened by the rain and + warmed by the little sunbeams, so the flower shot up from under the snow, + with a pale green bud on its stalk and some long narrow leaves on either + side. It was biting cold. + </p> + <p> + “You are a little too early,” said the wind and the weather; but every + sunbeam sang: “Welcome,” and the flower raised its head from the snow and + unfolded itself—pure and white, and decked with green stripes. + </p> + <p> + It was weather to freeze it to pieces,—such a delicate little + flower,—but it was stronger than any one knew. It stood in its white + dress in the white snow, bowing its head when the snow-flakes fell, and + raising it again to smile at the sunbeams, and every day it grew sweeter. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” shouted the children, as they ran into the garden, “see the + snowdrop! There it stands so pretty, so beautiful,—the first, the + only one!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0038" id="link2H_4_0038"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE THREE LITTLE BUTTERFLY BROTHERS + </h2> + <h3> + (FROM THE GERMAN)<a href="#linknote-2" name="linknoteref-2" + id="linknoteref-2"><small>2</small></a> + </h3> + <p> + <a name="linknote-2" id="linknote-2"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 2 (<a href="#linknoteref-2">return</a>)<br /> [ From Deutsches Drittes + Lesebuch, by W. H. Weick and C. Grebner. Copyright, 1886, by Van Antwerp, + Bragg & Co. American Book Company, publishers.] + </p> + <p> + There were once three little butterfly brothers, one white, one red, and + one yellow. They played in the sunshine, and danced among the flowers in + the garden, and they never grew tired because they were so happy. + </p> + <p> + One day there came a heavy rain, and it wet their wings. They flew away + home, but when they got there they found the door locked and the key gone. + So they had to stay out of doors in the rain, and they grew wetter and + wetter. + </p> + <p> + By and by they flew to the red and yellow striped tulip, and said: “Friend + Tulip, will you open your flower-cup and let us in till the storm is + over?” + </p> + <p> + The tulip answered: “The red and yellow butterflies may enter, because + they are like me, but the white one may not come in.” + </p> + <p> + But the red and yellow butterflies said: “If our white brother may not + find shelter in your flowercup, why, then, we'll stay outside in the rain + with him.” + </p> + <p> + It rained harder and harder, and the poor little butterflies grew wetter + and wetter, so they flew to the white lily and said: “Good Lily, will you + open your bud a little so we may creep in out of the rain?” + </p> + <p> + The lily answered: “The white butterfly may come in, because he is like + me, but the red and yellow ones must stay outside in the storm.” + </p> + <p> + Then the little white butterfly said: “If you won't receive my red and + yellow brothers, why, then, I'll stay out in the rain with them. We would + rather be wet than be parted.” + </p> + <p> + So the three little butterflies flew away. + </p> + <p> + But the sun, who was behind a cloud, heard it all, and he knew what good + little brothers the butterflies were, and how they had held together in + spite of the wet. So he pushed his face through the clouds, and chased + away the rain, and shone brightly on the garden. + </p> + <p> + He dried the wings of the three little butterflies, and warmed their + bodies. They ceased to sorrow, and danced among the flowers till evening, + then they flew away home, and found the door wide open. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0039" id="link2H_4_0039"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE WATER-DROP + </h2> + <h3> + BY FRIEDRICH WILHELM CAROVE' + </h3> + <p> + (ADAPTED FROM THE TRANSLATION BY SARAH AUSTIN) + </p> + <p> + There was once a child who lived in a little hut, and in the hut there was + nothing but a little bed and a looking-glass; but as soon as the first + sunbeam glided softly through the casement and kissed his sweet eyelids, + and the finch and the linnet waked him merrily with their morning songs, + he arose and went out into the green meadow. + </p> + <p> + And he begged flour of the primrose, and sugar of the violet, and butter + of the buttercup. He shook dewdrops from the cowslip into the cup of the + harebell, spread out a large lime-leaf, set his breakfast upon it, and + feasted daintily. And he invited a humming-bee and a gay butterfly to + partake of his feast, but his favorite guest was a blue dragon-fly. + </p> + <p> + The bee murmured a good deal about his riches, and the butterfly told his + adventures. Such talk delighted the child, and his breakfast was the + sweeter to him, and the sunshine on leaf and flower seemed more bright and + cheering. + </p> + <p> + But when the bee had flown off to beg from flower to flower, and the + butterfly had fluttered away to his play-fellows, the dragon-fly still + remained, poised on a blade of grass. Her slender and burnished body, more + brightly and deeply blue than the deep blue sky, glistened in the sunbeam. + Her net-like wings laughed at the flowers because they could not fly, but + must stand still and abide the wind and rain. + </p> + <p> + The dragon-fly sipped a little of the child's clear dewdrops and blue + violet honey, and then whispered her winged words. Such stories as the + dragon-fly did tell! And as the child sat motionless with his blue eyes + shut, and his head rested on his hands, she thought he had fallen asleep; + so she poised her double wings and flew into the rustling wood. + </p> + <p> + But the child had only sunk into a dream of delight and was wishing he + were a sunbeam or a moonbeam; and he would have been glad to hear more and + more, and forever. + </p> + <p> + But at last as all was still, he opened his eyes and looked around for his + dear guest, but she was flown far away. He could not bear to sit there any + longer alone, and he rose and went to the gurgling brook. It gushed and + rolled so merrily, and tumbled so wildly along as it hurried to throw + itself head-over-heels into the river, just as if the great massy rock out + of which it sprang were close behind it, and could only be escaped by a + breakneck leap. + </p> + <p> + Then the child began to talk to the little waves and asked them whence + they came. They would not stay to give him an answer, but danced away one + over another; till at last, that the sweet child might not be grieved, a + water-drop stopped behind a piece of rock. + </p> + <p> + “A long time ago,” said the water-drop, “I lived with my countless sisters + in the great Ocean, in peace and unity. We had all sorts of pastimes. + Sometimes we mounted up high into the air, and peeped at the stars. Then + we sank plump down deep below, and looked how the coral builders work till + they are tired, that they may reach the light of day at last. + </p> + <p> + “But I was conceited, and thought myself much better than my sisters. And + so, one day, when the sun rose out of the sea, I clung fast to one of his + hot beams and thought how I should reach the stars and become one of them. + </p> + <p> + “But I had not ascended far when the sunbeam shook me off, and, in spite + of all I could say or do, let me fall into a dark cloud. And soon a flash + of fire darted through the cloud, and now I thought I must surely die; but + the cloud laid itself down softly upon the top of a mountain, and so I + escaped. + </p> + <p> + “Now I thought I should remain hidden, when, all on a sudden, I slipped + over a round pebble, fell from one stone to another, down into the depths + of the mountain. At last it was pitch dark and I could neither see nor + hear anything. + </p> + <p> + “Then I found, indeed, that 'pride goeth before a fall,' for, though I had + already laid aside all my unhappy pride in the cloud, my punishment was to + remain for some time in the heart of the mountain. After undergoing many + purifications from the hidden virtues of metals and minerals, I was at + length permitted to come up once more into the free and cheerful air, and + to gush from this rock and journey with this happy stream. Now will I run + back to my sisters in the Ocean, and there wait patiently till I am called + to something better.” + </p> + <p> + So said the water-drop to the child, but scarcely had she finished her + story, when the root of a For-Get-Me-Not caught the drop and sucked her + in, that she might become a floweret, and twinkle brightly as a blue star + on the green firmament of earth. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0040" id="link2H_4_0040"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SPRING BEAUTY + </h2> + <h3> + AN OJIBBEWAY LEGEND + </h3> + <p> + BY HENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT (ADAPTED) + </p> + <p> + An old man was sitting in his lodge, by the side of a frozen stream. It + was the end of winter, the air was not so cold, and his fire was nearly + out. He was old and alone. His locks were white with age, and he trembled + in every joint. Day after day passed, and he heard nothing but the sound + of the storm sweeping before it the new-fallen snow. + </p> + <p> + One day while his fire was dying, a handsome young man approached and + entered the lodge. His cheeks were red, his eyes sparkled. He walked with + a quick, light step. His forehead was bound with a wreath of sweet-grass, + and he carried a bunch of fragrant flowers in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my son,” said the old man, “I am happy to see you. Come in! Tell me + your adventures, and what strange lands you have seen. I will tell you of + my wonderful deeds, and what I can perform. You shall do the same, and we + will amuse each other.” + </p> + <p> + The old man then drew from a bag a curiously wrought pipe. He filled it + with mild tobacco, and handed it to his guest. They each smoked from the + pipe and then began their stories. + </p> + <p> + “I am Peboan, the Spirit of Winter,” said the old man. “I blow my breath, + and the streams stand still. The water becomes stiff and hard as clear + stone.” + </p> + <p> + “I am Seegwun, the Spirit of Spring,” answered the youth. “I breathe, and + flowers spring up in the meadows and woods.” + </p> + <p> + “I shake my locks,” said the old man, “and snow covers the land. The + leaves fall from the trees, and my breath blows them away. The birds fly + to a distant land, and the animals hide themselves from the cold.” + </p> + <p> + “I shake my ringlets,” said the young man, “and warm showers of soft rain + fall upon the earth. The flowers lift their heads from the ground, the + grass grows thick and green. My voice recalls the birds, and they come + flying joyfully from the Southland. The warmth of my breath unbinds the + streams, and they sing the songs of summer. Music fills the groves + where-ever I walk, and all nature rejoices.” + </p> + <p> + And while they were talking thus a wonderful change took place. The sun + began to rise. A gentle warmth stole over the place. Peboan, the Spirit of + Winter, became silent. His head drooped, and the snow outside the lodge + melted away. Seegwun, the Spirit of Spring, grew more radiant, and rose + joyfully to his feet. The robin and the bluebird began to sing on the top + of the lodge. The stream began to murmur at the door, and the fragrance of + opening flowers came softly on the breeze. + </p> + <p> + The lodge faded away, and Peboan sank down and dissolved into tiny streams + of water, that vanished under the brown leaves of the forest. Thus the + Spirit of Winter departed, and where he had melted away, there the Indian + children gathered the first blossoms, fragrant and delicately pink,—the + modest Spring Beauty. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0041" id="link2H_4_0041"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE FAIRY TULIPS + </h2> + <h3> + ENGLISH FOLK-TALE + </h3> + <p> + Once upon a time there was a good old woman who lived in a little house. + She had in her garden a bed of beautiful striped tulips. + </p> + <p> + One night she was wakened by the sounds of sweet singing and of babies + laughing. She looked out at the window. The sounds seemed to come from the + tulip bed, but she could see nothing. + </p> + <p> + The next morning she walked among her flowers, but there were no signs of + any one having been there the night before. + </p> + <p> + On the following night she was again wakened by sweet singing and babies + laughing. She rose and stole softly through her garden. The moon was + shining brightly on the tulip bed, and the flowers were swaying to and + fro. The old woman looked closely and she saw, standing by each tulip, a + little Fairy mother who was crooning and rocking the flower like a cradle, + while in each tulip-cup lay a little Fairy baby laughing and playing. + </p> + <p> + The good old woman stole quietly back to her house, and from that time on + she never picked a tulip, nor did she allow her neighbors to touch the + flowers. + </p> + <p> + The tulips grew daily brighter in color and larger in size, and they gave + out a delicious perfume like that of roses. They began, too, to bloom all + the year round. And every night the little Fairy mothers caressed their + babies and rocked them to sleep in the flower-cups. + </p> + <p> + The day came when the good old woman died, and the tulip-bed was torn up + by folks who did not know about the Fairies, and parsley was planted there + instead of the flowers. But the parsley withered, and so did all the other + plants in the garden, and from that time nothing would grow there. + </p> + <p> + But the good old woman's grave grew beautiful, for the Fairies sang above + it, and kept it green; while on the grave and all around it there sprang + up tulips, daffodils, and violets, and other lovely flowers of spring. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0042" id="link2H_4_0042"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE STREAM THAT RAN AWAY + </h2> + <h3> + BY MARY AUSTIN (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + In a short and shallow canyon running eastward toward the sun, one may + find a clear, brown stream called the Creek of Pinon Pines; that is not + because it is unusual to find pinon trees in that country, but because + there are so few of them in the canyon of the stream. There are all sorts + higher up on the slopes,—long-leaved yellow pines, thimble cones, + tamarack, silver fir, and Douglas spruce; but in the canyon there is only + a group of the low-headed, gray nut pines which the earliest inhabitants + of that country called pinons. + </p> + <p> + The Canyon of Pinon Pines has a pleasant outlook and lies open to the sun. + At the upper end there is no more room by the stream border than will + serve for a cattle trail; willows grow in it, choking the path of the + water; there are brown birches here and ropes of white clematis tangled + over thickets of brier rose. + </p> + <p> + Low down, the ravine broadens out to inclose a meadow the width of a + lark's flight, blossomy and wet and good. Here the stream ran once in a + maze of soddy banks and watered all the ground, and afterward ran out at + the canyon's mouth across the mesa in a wash of bone-white boulders as far + as it could. That was not very far, for it was a slender stream. It had + its source on the high crests and hollows of the near-by mountain, in the + snow banks that melted and seeped downward through the rocks. But the + stream did not know any more of that than you know of what happened to you + before you were born, and could give no account of itself except that it + crept out from under a great heap of rubble far up in the Canyon of the + Pinon Pines. + </p> + <p> + And because it had no pools in it deep enough for trout, and no trees on + its borders but gray nut pines; because, try as it might, it could never + get across the mesa to the town, the stream had fully made up its mind to + run away. + </p> + <p> + “Pray, what good will that do you?” said the pines. “If you get to the + town, they will turn you into an irrigating ditch, and set you to watering + crops.” + </p> + <p> + “As to that,” said the stream, “if I once get started I will not stop at + the town.” + </p> + <p> + Then it would fret between its banks until the spangled frills of the + mimulus were all tattered with its spray. Often at the end of the summer + it was worn quite thin and small with running, and not able to do more + than reach the meadow. + </p> + <p> + “But some day,” it whispered to the stones, “I shall run quite away.” + </p> + <p> + If the stream had been inclined for it, there was no lack of good company + on its own borders. Birds nested in the willows, rabbits came to drink; + one summer a bobcat made its lair up the bank opposite the brown birches, + and often the deer fed in the meadow. + </p> + <p> + In the spring of one year two old men came up into the Canyon of Pinon + Pines. They had been miners and partners together for many years. They had + grown rich and grown poor, and had seen many hard places and strange + times. It was a day when the creek ran clear and the south wind smelled of + the earth. Wild bees began to whine among the willows, and the meadow + bloomed over with poppy-breasted larks. + </p> + <p> + Then said one of the old men: “Here is good meadow and water enough; let + us build a house and grow trees. We are too old to dig in the mines.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us set about it,” said the other; for that is the way with two who + have been a long time together,—what one thinks of, the other is for + doing. + </p> + <p> + So they brought their possessions, and they built a house by the water + border and planted trees. One of the men was all for an orchard but the + other preferred vegetables. So they did each what he liked, and were never + so happy as when walking in the garden in the cool of the day, touching + the growing things as they walked, and praising each other's work. + </p> + <p> + They were very happy for three years. By this time the stream had become + so interested it had almost forgotten about running away. But every year + it noted that a larger bit of the meadow was turned under and planted, and + more and more the men made dams and ditches by which to turn the water + into their gardens. + </p> + <p> + “In fact,” said the stream, “I am being made into an irrigating ditch + before I have had my fling in the world. I really must make a start.” + </p> + <p> + That very winter, by the help of a great storm, the stream went roaring + down the meadow, over the mesa, and so clean away, with only a track of + muddy sand to show the way it had gone. + </p> + <p> + All that winter the two men brought water for drinking from a spring, and + looked for the stream to come back. In the spring they hoped still, for + that was the season they looked for the orchard to bear. But no fruit grew + on the trees, and the seeds they planted shriveled in the earth. So by the + end of summer, when they understood that the water would not come back at + all, they went sadly away. + </p> + <p> + Now the Creek of Pinon Pines did not have a happy time. It went out in the + world on the wings of the storm, and was very much tossed about and mixed + up with other waters, lost and bewildered. + </p> + <p> + Everywhere it saw water at work, turning mills, watering fields, carrying + trade, falling as hail, rain, and snow; and at the last, after many + journeys it found itself creeping out from under the rocks of the same old + mountain, in the Canyon of Pinon Pines. + </p> + <p> + “After all, home is best,” said the little stream to itself, and ran about + in its choked channels looking for old friends. + </p> + <p> + The willows were there, but grown shabby and dying at the top; the birches + were quite dead, and there was only rubbish where the white clematis had + been. Even the rabbits had gone away. + </p> + <p> + The little stream ran whimpering in the meadow, fumbling at the ruined + ditches to comfort the fruit trees which were not quite dead. It was very + dull in those days living in the Canyon of Pinon Pines. + </p> + <p> + “But it is really my own fault,” said the stream. So it went on repairing + the borders as best it could. + </p> + <p> + About the time the white clematis had come back to hide the ruin of the + brown birches, a young man came and camped with his wife and child in the + meadow. They were looking for a place to make a home. + </p> + <p> + “What a charming place!” said the young wife; “just the right distance + from town, and a stream all to ourselves. And look, there are fruit trees + already planted. Do let us decide to stay!” + </p> + <p> + Then she took off the child's shoes and stockings to let it play in the + stream. The water curled all about the bare feet and gurgled delightedly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, do stay,” begged the happy water. “I can be such a help to you, for I + know how a garden should be irrigated in the best manner.” + </p> + <p> + The child laughed, and stamped the water up to his bare knees. The young + wife watched anxiously while her husband walked up and down the stream + border and examined the fruit trees. + </p> + <p> + “It is a delightful place,” he said, “and the soil is rich, but I am + afraid the water cannot be depended upon. There are signs of a great + drought within the last two or three years. Look, there is a clump of + birches in the very path of the stream, but all dead; and the largest + limbs of the fruit trees have died. In this country one must be able to + make sure of the water-supply. I suppose the people who planted them must + have abandoned the place when the stream went dry. We must go on farther.” + </p> + <p> + So they took their goods and the child and went on farther. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well,” said the stream, “that is what is to be expected when has a + reputation for neglecting one's duty. But I wish they had stayed. That + baby and I understood each other.” + </p> + <p> + It had made up its mind not to run away again, though it could not be + expected to be quite cheerful after all that had happened. If you go to + the Canyon of Pinon Pines you will notice that the stream, where it goes + brokenly about the meadow, has a mournful sound. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0043" id="link2H_4_0043"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE ELVES + </h2> + <h3> + AN IROQUOIS LEGEND + </h3> + <p> + BY HARRIET MAXWELL CONVERSE (ADAPTED) + </p> + <p> + The little Elves of Darkness, so says the old Iroquois grandmother, were + wise and mysterious. They dwelt under the earth, where were deep forests + and broad plains. There they kept captive all the evil things that wished + to injure human beings,—the venomous reptiles, the wicked spiders, + and the fearful monsters. Sometimes one of these evil creatures escaped + and rushed upward to the bright, pure air, and spread its poisonous breath + over the living things of the upper-world. But such happenings were rare, + for the Elves of Darkness were faithful and strong, and did not willingly + allow the wicked beasts and reptiles to harm human beings and the growing + things. + </p> + <p> + When the night was lighted by the moon's soft rays, and the woods of the + upper-world were sweet with the odor of the spring-flowers, then the Elves + of Darkness left the under-world, and creeping from their holes, held a + festival in the woods. And under many a tree, where the blades of grass + had refused to grow, the Little People danced until rings of green sprang + up beneath their feet. And to the festival came the Elves of Light,—among + whom were Tree-Elves, Flower-Elves, and Fruit-Elves. They too danced and + made merry. + </p> + <p> + But when the moonlight faded away, and day began to break, then the Elves + of Darkness scampered back to their holes, and returned once more to the + under-world; while the Elves of Light began their daily tasks. + </p> + <p> + For in the springtime these Little People of the Light hid in sheltered + places. They listened to the complaints of the seeds that lay covered in + the ground, and they whispered to the earth until the seeds burst their + pods and sent their shoots upward to the light. Then the little Elves + wandered over the fields and through the woods, bidding all growing things + to look upon the sun. + </p> + <p> + The Tree-Elves tended the trees, unfolding their leaves, and feeding their + roots with sap from the earth. The Flower-Elves unwrapped the baby buds, + and tinted the petals of the opening flowers, and played with the bees and + the butterflies. + </p> + <p> + But the busiest of all were the Fruit-Elves. Their greatest care in the + spring was the strawberry plant. When the ground softened from the frost, + the Fruit-Elves loosened the earth around each strawberry root, that its + shoots might push through to the light. They shaped the plant's leaves, + and turned its blossoms toward the warm rays of the sun. They trained its + runners, and assisted the timid fruit to form. They painted the luscious + berry, and bade it ripen. And when the first strawberries blushed on the + vines, these guardian Elves protected them from the evil insects that had + escaped from the world of darkness underground. + </p> + <p> + And the old Iroquois grandmother tells, how once, when the fruit first + came to earth, the Evil Spirit, Hahgwehdaetgah, stole the strawberry + plant, and carried it to his gloomy cave, where he hid it away. And there + it lay until a tiny sunbeam pierced the damp mould, and finding the little + vine carried it back to its sunny fields. And ever since then the + strawberry plant has lived and thrived in the fields and woods. But the + Fruit-Elves, fearing lest the Evil One should one day steal the vine + again, watch day and night over their favorite. And when the strawberries + ripen they give the juicy, fragrant fruit to the Iroquois children as they + gather the spring flowers in the woods. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0044" id="link2H_4_0044"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CANYON FLOWERS + </h2> + <h3> + BY RALPH CONNOR (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + At first there were no canyons, but only the broad, open prairie. One day + the Master of the Prairie, walking out over his great lawns, where were + only grasses, asked the Prairie: “Where are your flowers?” + </p> + <p> + And the Prairie said: “Master, I have no seeds.” + </p> + <p> + Then he spoke to the birds, and they carried seeds of every kind of flower + and strewed them far and wide, and soon the Prairie bloomed with crocuses + and roses and buffalo beans and the yellow crowfoot and the wild + sunflowers and the red lilies, all the summer long. + </p> + <p> + Then the Master came and was well pleased; but he missed the flowers he + loved best of all, and he said to the Prairie: “Where are the clematis and + the columbine, the sweet violets and wind-flowers, and all the ferns and + flowering shrubs?” + </p> + <p> + And again the Prairie answered: “Master, I have no seeds.” + </p> + <p> + And again he spoke to the birds and again they carried all the seeds and + strewed them far and wide. + </p> + <p> + But when next the Master came, he could not find the flowers he loved best + of all, and he said: “Where are those, my sweetest flowers?” + </p> + <p> + And the Prairie cried sorrowfully: “O Master, I cannot keep the flowers, + for the winds sweep fiercely, and the sun beats upon my breast, and they + wither up and fly away.” + </p> + <p> + Then the Master spoke to the Lightning, and with one swift blow the + Lightning cleft the Prairie to the heart. And the Prairie rocked and + groaned in agony, and for many a day moaned bitterly over its black, + jagged, gaping wound. + </p> + <p> + But a little river poured its waters through the cleft, and carried down + deep, black mould, and once more the birds carried seeds and strewed them + in the canyon. And after a long time the rough rocks were decked out with + soft mosses and trailing vines, and all the nooks were hung with clematis + and columbine, and great elms lifted their huge tops high up into the + sunlight, and down about their feet clustered the low cedars and balsams, + and everywhere the violets and wind-flowers and maiden-hair grew and + bloomed till the canyon became the Master's place for rest and peace and + joy. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0045" id="link2H_4_0045"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CLYTIE, THE HELIOTROPE + </h2> + <h3> + BY OVID (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + There was once a Nymph named Clytie, who gazed ever at Apollo as he drove + his sun-chariot through the heavens. She watched him as he rose in the + east attended by the rosy-fingered Dawn and the dancing Hours. She gazed + as he ascended the heavens, urging his steeds still higher in the fierce + heat of the noonday. She looked with wonder as at evening he guided his + steeds downward to their many-colored pastures under the western sky, + where they fed all night on ambrosia. + </p> + <p> + Apollo saw not Clytie. He had no thought for her, but he shed his + brightest beams upon her sister the white Nymph Leucothoe. And when Clytie + perceived this she was filled with envy and grief. + </p> + <p> + Night and day she sat on the bare ground weeping. For nine days and nine + nights she never raised herself from the earth, nor did she take food or + drink; but ever she turned her weeping eyes toward the sun-god as he moved + through the sky. + </p> + <p> + And her limbs became rooted to the ground. Green leaves enfolded her body. + Her beautiful face was concealed by tiny flowers, violet-colored and sweet + with perfume. Thus was she changed into a flower and her roots held her + fast to the ground; but ever she turned her blossom-covered face toward + the sun, following with eager gaze his daily flight. In vain were her + sorrow and tears, for Apollo regarded her not. + </p> + <p> + And so through the ages has the Nymph turned her dew-washed face toward + the heavens, and men no longer call her Clytie, but the sun-flower, + heliotrope. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0046" id="link2H_4_0046"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + HYACINTHUS + </h2> + <h3> + BY OVID (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Once when the golden-beamed Apollo roamed the earth, he made a companion + of Hyacinthus, the son of King Amyclas of Lacedaemon; and him he loved + with an exceeding great love, for the lad was beautiful beyond compare. + </p> + <p> + The sun-god threw aside his lyre, and became the daily comrade of + Hyacinthus. Often they played games, or climbed the rugged mountain + ridges. Together they followed the chase or fished in the quiet and + shadowy pools; and the sun-god, unmindful of his dignity, carried the + lad's nets and held his dogs. + </p> + <p> + It happened on a day that the two friends stripped off their garments, + rubbed the juice of the olive upon their bodies, and engaged in throwing + the quoit. First Apollo poised it and tossed it far. It cleaved the air + with its weight and fell heavily to earth. At that moment Hyacinthus ran + forwards and hastened to take up the disc, but the hard earth sent it + rebounding straight into his face, so that he fell wounded to the ground. + </p> + <p> + Ah! then, pale and fearful, the sun-god hastened to the side of his fallen + friend. He bore up the lad's sinking limbs and strove to stanch his wound + with healing herbs. All in vain! Alas! the wound would not close. And as + violets and lilies, when their stems are crushed, hang their languid + blossoms on their stalks and wither away, so did Hyacinthus droop his + beautiful head and die. + </p> + <p> + Then the sun-god, full of grief, cried aloud in his anguish: “O Beloved! + thou fallest in thy early youth, and I alone am the cause of thy + destruction! Oh, that I could give my life for thee or with thee! but + since Fate will not permit this, thou shalt ever be with me, and thy + praise shall dwell on my lips. My lyre struck with my hand, my songs, too, + shall celebrate thee! And thou, dear lad, shalt become a new flower, and + on thy leaves will I write my lamentations.” + </p> + <p> + And even as the sun-god spoke, behold! the blood that had flowed from + Hyacinthus's wound stained the grass, and a flower, like a lily in shape, + sprang up, more bright than Tyrian purple. On its leaves did Apollo + inscribe the mournful characters: “ai, ai,” which mean “alas! alas!” + </p> + <p> + And as oft as the spring drives away the winter, so oft does Hyacinthus + blossom in the fresh, green grass. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0047" id="link2H_4_0047"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ECHO AND NARCISSUS + </h2> + <h3> + BY OVID (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Long ago, in the ancient world, there was born to the blue-eyed Nymph + Liriope, a beautiful boy, whom she called Narcissus. An oracle foretold at + his birth that he should be happy and live to a good old age if he “never + saw himself.” As this prophecy seemed ridiculous his mother soon forgot + all about it. + </p> + <p> + Narcissus grew to be a stately, handsome youth. His limbs were firm and + straight. Curls clustered about his white brow, and his eyes shone like + two stars. He loved to wander among the meadow flowers and in the pathless + woodland. But he disdained his playmates, and would not listen to their + entreaties to join in their games. His heart was cold, and in it was + neither hate nor love. He lived indifferent to youth or maid, to friend or + foe. + </p> + <p> + Now, in the forest near by dwelt a Nymph named Echo. She had been a + handmaiden of the goddess Juno. But though the Nymph was beautiful of + face, she was not loved. She had a noisy tongue. She told lies and + whispered slanders, and encouraged the other Nymphs in many misdoings. So + when Juno perceived all this, she ordered the troublesome Nymph away from + her court, and banished her to the wildwood, bidding her never speak again + except in imitation of other peoples' words. So Echo dwelt in the woods, + and forever mocked the words of youths and maidens. + </p> + <p> + One day as Narcissus was wandering alone in the pathless forest, Echo, + peeping from behind a tree, saw his beauty, and as she gazed her heart was + filled with love. Stealthily she followed his footsteps, and often she + tried to call to him with endearing words, but she could not speak, for + she no longer had a voice of her own. + </p> + <p> + At last Narcissus heard the sound of breaking branches, and he cried out: + “Is there any one here?” + </p> + <p> + And Echo answered softly: “Here!” + </p> + <p> + Narcissus, amazed, looking about on all sides and seeing no one, cried: + “Come!” + </p> + <p> + And Echo answered: “Come!” + </p> + <p> + Narcissus cried again: “Who art thou? Whom seekest thou?” + </p> + <p> + And Echo answered: “Thou!” + </p> + <p> + Then rushing from among the trees she tried to throw her arms about his + neck, but Narcissus fled through the forest, crying: “Away! away! I will + die before I love thee!” + </p> + <p> + And Echo answered mournfully: “I love thee!” + </p> + <p> + And thus rejected, she hid among the trees, and buried her blushing face + in the green leaves. And she pined, and pined, until her body wasted quite + away, and nothing but her voice was left. And some say that even to this + day her voice lives in lonely caves and answers men's words from afar. + </p> + <p> + Now, when Narcissus fled from Echo, he came to a clear spring, like + silver. Its waters were unsullied, for neither goats feeding upon the + mountains nor any other cattle had drunk from it, nor had wild beasts or + birds disturbed it, nor had branch or leaf fallen into its calm waters. + The trees bent above and shaded it from the hot sun, and the soft, green + grass grew on its margin. + </p> + <p> + Here Narcissus, fatigued and thirsty after his flight, laid himself down + beside the spring to drink. He gazed into the mirror-like water, and saw + himself reflected in its tide. He knew not that it was his own image, but + thought that he saw a youth living in the spring. + </p> + <p> + He gazed on two eyes like stars, on graceful slender fingers, on + clustering curls worthy of Apollo, on a mouth arched like Cupid's bow, on + blushing cheeks and ivory neck. And as he gazed his cold heart grew warm, + and love for this beautiful reflection rose up and filled his soul. + </p> + <p> + He rained kisses on the deceitful stream. He thrust his arms into the + water, and strove to grasp the image by the neck, but it fled away. Again + he kissed the stream, but the image mocked his love. And all day and all + night, lying there without food or drink, he continued to gaze into the + water. Then raising himself, he stretched out his arms to the trees about + him, and cried:— + </p> + <p> + “Did ever, O ye woods, one love as much as I! Have ye ever seen a lover + thus pine for the sake of unrequited affection?” + </p> + <p> + Then turning once more, Narcissus addressed his reflection in the limpid + stream:— + </p> + <p> + “Why, dear youth, dost thou flee away from me? Neither a vast sea, nor a + long way, nor a great mountain separates us! only a little water keeps us + apart! Why, dear lad, dost thou deceive me, and whither dost thou go when + I try to grasp thee? Thou encouragest me with friendly looks. When I + extend my arms, thou extendest thine; when I smile, thou smilest in + return; when I weep, thou weepest; but when I try to clasp thee beneath + the stream, thou shunnest me and fleest away! Grief is taking my strength, + and my life will soon be over! In my early days am I cut off, nor is Death + grievous to me, now that he is about to remove my sorrows!” + </p> + <p> + Thus mourned Narcissus, lying beside the woodland spring. He disturbed the + water with his tears, and made the woods to resound with his sighs. And as + the yellow wax is melted by the fire, or the hoar frost is consumed by the + heat of the sun, so did Narcissus pine away, his body wasting by degrees. + </p> + <p> + And often as he sighed: “Alas!” the grieving Echo from the wood answered: + “Alas!” + </p> + <p> + With his last breath he looked into the water and sighed: “Ah, youth + beloved, farewell!” and Echo sighed: “Farewell!” + </p> + <p> + And Narcissus, laying his weary head upon the grass, closed his eyes + forever. The Water-Nymphs wept for him, and the Wood-Dryads lamented him, + and Echo resounded their mourning. But when they sought his body it had + vanished away, and in its stead had grown up by the brink of the stream a + little flower, with silver leaves and golden heart,—and thus was + born to earth the woodland flower, Narcissus. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0048" id="link2H_4_0048"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MOTHERS' DAY + </h2> + <h3> + (SECOND SUNDAY IN MAY) + </h3> + <p> + THE LARK AND ITS YOUNG ONES A HINDU FABLE BY P. V. RAMASWAMI RAJU + (ADAPTED) + </p> + <p> + A child went up to a lark and said: “Good lark, have you any young ones?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, child, I have,” said the mother lark, “and they are very pretty + ones, indeed.” Then she pointed to the little birds and said: “This is + Fair Wing, that is Tiny Bill, and that other is Bright Eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “At home, we are three,” said the child, “myself and two sisters. Mother + says that we are pretty children, and she loves us.” + </p> + <p> + To this the little larks replied: “Oh, yes, OUR mother is fond of us, + too.” + </p> + <p> + “Good mother lark,” said the child, “will you let Tiny Bill go home with + me and play?” + </p> + <p> + Before the mother lark could reply, Bright Eyes said: “Yes, if you will + send your little sister to play with us in our nest.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she will be so sorry to leave home,” said the child; “she could not + come away from our mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Tiny Bill will be so sorry to leave our nest,” answered Bright Eyes, “and + he will not go away from OUR mother.” + </p> + <p> + Then the child ran away to her mother, saying: “Ah, every one is fond of + home!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0049" id="link2H_4_0049"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CORNELIA'S JEWELS + </h2> + <h3> + BY JAMES BALDWIN <a href="#linknote-3" name="linknoteref-3" + id="linknoteref-3"><small>3</small></a> + </h3> + <p> + <a name="linknote-3" id="linknote-3"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 3 (<a href="#linknoteref-3">return</a>)<br /> [ From Fifty Famous Stories + Retold. Copyright, 1896, by American Book Company.] + </p> + <p> + It was a bright morning in the old city of Rome many hundred years ago. In + a vine-covered summer-house in a beautiful garden, two boys were standing. + They were looking at their mother and her friend, who were walking among + the flowers and trees. + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever see so handsome a lady as our mother's friend?” asked the + younger boy, holding his tall brother's hand. “She looks like a queen.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet she is not so beautiful as our mother,” said the elder boy. “She has + a fine dress, it is true; but her face is not noble and kind. It is our + mother who is like a queen.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” said the other. “There is no woman in Rome so much like a + queen as our own dear mother.” + </p> + <p> + Soon Cornelia, their mother, came down the walk to speak with them. She + was simply dressed in a plain, white robe. Her arms and feet were bare, as + was the custom in those days; and no rings or chains glittered about her + hands and neck. For her only crown, long braids of soft brown hair were + coiled about her head; and a tender smile lit up her noble face as she + looked into her sons' proud eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Boys,” she said, “I have something to tell you.” + </p> + <p> + They bowed before her, as Roman lads were taught to do, and said: “What is + it, mother?” + </p> + <p> + “You are to dine with us to-day, here in the garden; and then our friend + is going to show us that wonderful casket of jewels of which you have + heard so much.” + </p> + <p> + The brothers looked shyly at their mother's friend. Was it possible that + she had still other rings besides those on her fingers? Could she have + other gems besides those which sparkled in the chains about her neck? + </p> + <p> + When the simple outdoor meal was over, a servant brought the casket from + the house. The lady opened it. Ah, how those jewels dazzled the eyes of + the wondering boys! There were ropes of pearls, white as milk, and smooth + as satin; heaps of shining rubies, red as the glowing coals; sapphires as + blue as the sky that summer day; and diamonds that flashed and sparkled + like the sunlight. + </p> + <p> + The brothers looked long at the gems. “Ah!” whispered the younger; “if our + mother could only have such beautiful things!” + </p> + <p> + At last, however, the casket was closed and carried carefully away. + </p> + <p> + “Is it true, Cornelia, that you have no jewels?” asked her friend. “Is it + true, as I have heard it whispered, that you are poor?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I am not poor,” answered Cornelia, and as she spoke she drew her two + boys to her side; “for here are my jewels. They are worth more than all + your gems.” + </p> + <p> + The boys never forgot their mother's pride and love and care; and in after + years, when they had become great men in Rome, they often thought of this + scene in the garden. And the world still likes to hear the story of + Cornelia's jewels. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0051" id="link2H_4_0051"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + QUEEN MARGARET AND THE ROBBERS + </h2> + <h3> + BY ALBERT F. BLAISDELL (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + One day when roses were in bloom, two noblemen came to angry words in the + Temple Gardens, by the side of the river Thames. In the midst of their + quarrel one of them plucked a white rose from a bush, and, turning to + those who were near him, said:— + </p> + <p> + “He who will stand by me in this quarrel, let him pluck a white rose with + me, and wear it in his hat.” + </p> + <p> + Then the other gentleman tore a red rose from another bush, and said:— + </p> + <p> + “Let him who will stand by me pluck a red rose, and wear it as his badge.” + </p> + <p> + Now this quarrel led to a great civil war, which was called “The War of + the Roses,” for every soldier wore a white or red rose in his helmet to + show to which side he belonged. + </p> + <p> + The leaders of the “Red Rose” sided with King Henry the Sixth and his + wife, Queen Margaret, who were fighting for the English throne. Many great + battles were fought, and wicked deeds were done in those dreadful times. + </p> + <p> + In a battle at a place called Hexham, the king's party was beaten, and + Queen Margaret and her little son, the Prince of Wales, had to flee for + their lives. They had not gone far before they met a band of robbers, who + stopped the queen and stole all her rich jewels, and, holding a drawn + sword over her head, threatened to take her life and that of her child. + </p> + <p> + The poor queen, overcome by terror, fell upon her knees and begged them to + spare her only son, the little prince. But the robbers, turning from her, + began to fight among themselves as to how they should divide the plunder, + and, drawing their weapons, they attacked one another. When the queen saw + what was happening she sprang to her feet, and, taking the prince by the + hand, made haste to escape. + </p> + <p> + There was a thick wood close by, and the queen plunged into it, but she + was sorely afraid and trembled in every limb, for she knew that this wood + was the hiding-place of robbers and outlaws. Every tree seemed to her + excited fancy to be an armed man waiting to kill her and her little son. + </p> + <p> + On and on she went through the dark wood, this way and that, seeking some + place of shelter, but not knowing where she was going. At last she saw by + the light of the moon a tall, fierce-looking man step out from behind a + tree. He came directly toward her, and she knew by his dress that he was + an outlaw. But thinking that he might have children of his own, she + determined to throw herself and her son upon his mercy. + </p> + <p> + When he came near she addressed him in a calm voice and with a stately + manner. + </p> + <p> + “Friend,” said she, “I am the queen. Kill me if thou wilt, but spare my + son, thy prince. Take him, I will trust him to thee. Keep him safe from + those that seek his life, and God will have pity on thee for all thy + sins.” + </p> + <p> + The words of the queen moved the heart of the outlaw. He told her that he + had once fought on her side, and was now hiding from the soldiers of the + “White Rose.” He then lifted the little prince in his arms, and, bidding + the queen follow, led the way to a cave in the rocks. There he gave them + food and shelter, and kept them safe for two days, when the queen's + friends and attendants, discovering their hiding-place, came and took them + far away. + </p> + <p> + If you ever go to Hexham Forest, you may see this robber's cave. It is on + the bank of a little stream that flows at the foot of a hill, and to this + day the people call it “Queen Margaret's Cave.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0052" id="link2H_4_0052"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE REVENGE OF CORIOLANUS + </h2> + <h3> + BY CHARLES MORRIS (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Caius Marcius was a noble Roman youth, who fought valiantly, when but + seventeen years of age, in the battle of Lake Regillus, and was there + crowned with an oaken wreath, the Roman reward for saving the life of a + fellow soldier. This he showed with joy to his mother, Volumnia, whom he + loved exceedingly, it being his greatest pleasure to receive praise from + her lips. + </p> + <p> + He afterward won many more crowns in battle, and became one of the most + famous of Roman soldiers. One of his memorable exploits took place during + a war with the Volscians, in which the Romans attacked the city of + Corioli. Through Caius's bravery the place was taken, and the Roman + general said: “Henceforth, let him be called after the name of this city.” + So ever after he was known as Caius Marcius Coriolanus. + </p> + <p> + Courage was not the only marked quality of Coriolanus. His pride was + equally great. He was a noble of the nobles, so haughty in demeanor and so + disdainful of the commons that they grew to hate him bitterly. + </p> + <p> + At length came a time of great scarcity of food. The people were on the + verge of famine, to relieve which shiploads of corn were sent from Sicily + to Rome. The Senate resolved to distribute this corn among the suffering + people, but Coriolanus opposed this, saying: “If they want corn, let them + promise to obey the Patricians, as their fathers did. Let them give up + their tribunes. If they do this we will let them have corn, and take care + of them.” + </p> + <p> + When the people heard of what the proud noble had said, they broke into a + fury, and a mob gathered around the doors of the Senate house, prepared to + seize and tear him in pieces when he came out. But the tribunes prevented + this, and Coriolanus fled from Rome, exiled from his native land by his + pride and disdain of the people. + </p> + <p> + The exile made his way to the land of the Volscians and became the friend + of Rome's great enemy, whom he had formerly helped to conquer. He aroused + the Volscians' ire against Rome, to a greater degree than before, and + placing himself at the head of a Volscian army greater than the Roman + forces, marched against his native city. The army swept victoriously + onward, taking city after city, and finally encamping within five miles of + Rome. + </p> + <p> + The approach of this powerful host threw the Romans into dismay. They had + been assailed so suddenly that they had made no preparations for defense, + and the city seemed to lie at the mercy of its foes. The women ran to the + temples to pray for the favor of the gods. The people demanded that the + Senate should send deputies to the invading army to treat for peace. + </p> + <p> + The Senate, no less frightened than the people, obeyed, sending five + leading Patricians to the Volscian camp. These deputies were haughtily + received by Coriolanus, who offered them such severe terms that they were + unable to accept them. They returned and reported the matter, and the + Senate was thrown into confusion. The deputies were sent again, instructed + to ask for gentler terms, but now Coriolanus refused even to let them + enter his camp. This harsh repulse plunged Rome into mortal terror. + </p> + <p> + All else having failed, the noble women of Rome, with Volumnia, the mother + of Coriolanus, at their head, went in procession from the city to the + Volscian camp to pray for mercy. + </p> + <p> + It was a sad and solemn spectacle, as this train of noble ladies, clad in + their habiliments of woe, and with bent heads and sorrowful faces, wound + through the hostile camp, from which they were not excluded as the + deputies had been. Even the Volscian soldiers watched them with pitying + eyes, and spoke no scornful word as they moved slowly past. + </p> + <p> + On reaching the midst of the camp, they saw Coriolanus on the general's + seat, with the Volscian chiefs gathered around him. At first he wondered + who these women could be; but when they came near, and he saw his mother + at the head of the train, his deep love for her welled up so strongly in + his heart that he could not restrain himself, but sprang up and ran to + meet and kiss her. + </p> + <p> + The Roman matron stopped him with a dignified gesture. “Ere you kiss me,” + she said, “let me know whether I speak to an enemy or to my son; whether I + stand here as your prisoner or your mother.” + </p> + <p> + He stood before her in silence, with bent head, and unable to answer. + </p> + <p> + “Must it, then, be that if I had never borne a son, Rome would have never + seen the camp of an enemy?” said Volumnia, in sorrowful tones. + </p> + <p> + “But I am too old to endure much longer your shame and my misery. Think + not of me, but of your wife and children, whom you would doom to death or + to life in bondage.” + </p> + <p> + Then Virgilia, his wife, and his children, came forward and kissed him, + and all the noble ladies in the train burst into tears and bemoaned the + peril of their country. + </p> + <p> + Coriolanus still stood silent, his face working with contending thoughts. + At length he cried out in heart-rending accents: “O mother! What have you + done to me?” + </p> + <p> + Then clasping her hand he wrung it vehemently, saying: “Mother, the + victory is yours! A happy victory for you and Rome! but shame and ruin for + your son.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon he embraced her with yearning heart, and afterward clasped his + wife and children to his breast, bidding them return with their tale of + conquest to Rome. As for himself, he said, only exile and shame remained. + </p> + <p> + Before the women reached home, the army of the Volscians was on its + homeward march. Coriolanus never led it against Rome again. He lived and + died in exile, far from his wife and children. + </p> + <p> + The Romans, to honor Volumnia, and those who had gone with her to the + Volscian camp, built a temple to “Woman's Fortune,” on the spot where + Coriolanus had yielded to his mother's entreaties. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0053" id="link2H_4_0053"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE WIDOW AND HER THREE SONS + </h2> + <h3> + (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + One day a poor woman approached Mr. Lincoln for an interview. She was + somewhat advanced in years and plainly clad, wearing a faded shawl and + worn hood. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my good woman,” said Mr. Lincoln, “what can I do for you this + morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. President,” answered she, “my husband and three sons all went into + the army. My husband was killed in the battle of——. I get + along very badly since then living all alone, and I thought that I would + come and ask you to release to me my eldest son.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lincoln looked in her face for a moment, and then replied kindly:— + </p> + <p> + “Certainly! Certainly! If you have given us ALL, and your prop has been + taken away, you are justly entitled to one of your boys.” + </p> + <p> + He then made out an order discharging the young man, which the woman took + away, thanking him gratefully. + </p> + <p> + She went to the front herself with the President's order, and found that + her son had been mortally wounded in a recent battle, and taken to the + hospital. + </p> + <p> + She hastened to the hospital. But she was too late, the boy died, and she + saw him laid in a soldier's grave. + </p> + <p> + She then returned to the President with his order, on the back of which + the attendant surgeon had stated the sad facts concerning the young man it + was intended to discharge. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lincoln was much moved by her story, and said: “I know what you wish + me to do now, and I shall do it without your asking. I shall release to + you your second son.” + </p> + <p> + Taking up his pen he began to write the order, while the grief-stricken + woman stood at his side and passed her hand softly over his head, and + stroked his rough hair as she would have stroked her boy's. + </p> + <p> + When he had finished he handed her the paper, saying tenderly, his eyes + full of tears:— + </p> + <p> + “Now you have one of the two left, and I have one, that is no more than + right.” + </p> + <p> + She took the order and reverently placing her hand upon his head, said:— + </p> + <p> + “The Lord bless you, Mr. President. May you live a thousand years, and may + you always be the head of this great nation.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0054" id="link2H_4_0054"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MEMORIAL DAY + </h2> + <h3> + (APRIL OR MAY) + </h3> + <p> + FLAG DAY (JUNE 14) <a name="link2H_4_0055" id="link2H_4_0055"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BETSY ROSS AND THE FLAG + </h2> + <h3> + BY HARRY PRINGLE FORD (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + On the 14th day of June, 1777, the Continental Congress passed the + following resolution: “RESOLVED, That the flag of the thirteen United + States be thirteen stripes alternate red and white; that the Union be + thirteen stars, white in a blue field, representing a new constellation.” + </p> + <p> + We are told that previous to this, in 1776, a committee was appointed to + look after the matter, and together with General Washington they called at + the house of Betsy Ross, 239 Arch Street, Philadelphia. + </p> + <p> + Betsy Ross was a young widow of twenty-four heroically supporting herself + by continuing the upholstery business of her late husband, young John + Ross, a patriot who had died in the service of his country. Betsy was + noted for her exquisite needlework, and was engaged in the flag-making + business. + </p> + <p> + The committee asked her if she thought she could make a flag from a + design, a rough drawing of which General Washington showed her. She + replied, with diffidence, that she did not know whether she could or not, + but would try. She noticed, however, that the star as drawn had six + points, and informed the committee that the correct star had but five. + They answered that as a great number of stars would be required, the more + regular form with six points could be more easily made than one with five. + </p> + <p> + She responded in a practical way by deftly folding a scrap of paper; then + with a single clip of her scissors she displayed a true, symmetrical, + five-pointed star. + </p> + <p> + This decided the committee in her favor. A rough design was left for her + use, but she was permitted to make a sample flag according to her own + ideas of the arrangement of the stars and the proportions of the stripes + and the general form of the whole. + </p> + <p> + Sometime after its completion it was presented to Congress, and the + committee had the pleasure of informing Betsy Ross that her flag was + accepted as the Nation's standard. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0056" id="link2H_4_0056"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER + </h2> + <h3> + BY EVA MARCH TAPPAN (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + In 1814, while the War of 1812 was still going on, the people of Maryland + were in great trouble, for a British fleet began to attack Baltimore. The + enemy bombarded the forts, including Fort McHenry. For twenty-four hours + the terrific bombardment went on. + </p> + <p> + “If Fort McHenry only stands, the city is safe,” said Francis Scott Key to + a friend, and they gazed anxiously through the smoke to see if the flag + was still flying. + </p> + <p> + These two men were in the strangest place that could be imagined. They + were in a little American vessel fast moored to the side of the British + admiral's flagship. A Maryland doctor had been seized as a prisoner by the + British, and the President had given permission for them to go out under a + flag of truce, to ask for his release. The British commander finally + decided that the prisoner might be set free; but he had no idea of + allowing the two men to go back to the city and carry any information. + “Until the attack on Baltimore is ended, you and your boat must remain + here,” he said. + </p> + <p> + The firing went on. As long as daylight lasted they could catch glimpses + of the Stars and Stripes whenever the wind swayed the clouds of smoke. + When night came they could still see the banner now and then by the blaze + of the cannon. A little after midnight the firing stopped. The two men + paced up and down the deck, straining their eyes to see if the flag was + still flying. “Can the fort have surrendered?” they questioned. “Oh, if + morning would only come!” + </p> + <p> + At last the faint gray of dawn appeared. They could see that some flag was + flying, but it was too dark to tell which. More and more eagerly they + gazed. It grew lighter, a sudden breath of wind caught the flag, and it + floated out on the breeze. It was no English flag, it was their own Stars + and Stripes. The fort had stood, the city was safe. Then it was that Key + took from his pocket an old letter and on the back of it he wrote the + poem, “The Star-Spangled Banner.” + </p> + <p> + The British departed, and the little American boat went back to the city. + Mr. Key gave a copy of the poem to his uncle, who had been helping to + defend the fort. The uncle sent it to the printer, and had it struck off + on some handbills. Before the ink was dry the printer caught up one and + hurried away to a restaurant, where many patriots were assembled. Waving + the paper, he cried, “Listen to this!” and he read:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “O say, can you see, by the dawn's early light, + What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming, + Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous + fight, + O'er the ramparts we watch'd were so gallantly streaming? + And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air, + Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there. + O say, does the star-spangled banner yet wave + O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?” + </pre> + <p> + “Sing it! sing it!” cried the whole company. Charles Durang mounted a + chair and then for the first time “The Star-Spangled Banner” was sung. The + tune was “To Anacreon in Heaven,” an air which had long been a favorite. + Halls, theaters, and private houses rang with its strains. + </p> + <p> + The fleet was out of sight even before the poem was printed. In the middle + of the night the admiral had sent to the British soldiers this message, “I + can do nothing more,” and they hurried on board the vessels. It was not + long before they left Chesapeake Bay altogether,—perhaps with the + new song ringing in their ears as they went. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0057" id="link2H_4_0057"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE LITTLE DRUMMER-BOY + </h2> + <h3> + BY ALBERT BUSHNELL HART (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + A few days before a certain regiment received orders to join General Lyon, + on his march to Wilson's Creek, the drummer-boy of the regiment was taken + sick, and carried to the hospital. + </p> + <p> + Shortly after this there appeared before the captain's quarters, during + the beating of the reveille, a good-looking, middle-aged woman, dressed in + deep mourning, leading by the hand a sharp, sprightly looking boy, + apparently about twelve or thirteen years of age. + </p> + <p> + Her story was soon told. She was from East Tennessee, where her husband + had been killed by the Confederates, and all her property destroyed. Being + destitute, she thought that if she could procure a situation for her boy + as drummer, she could find employment for herself. + </p> + <p> + While she told her story, the little fellow kept his eyes intently fixed + upon the countenance of the captain. And just as the latter was about to + say that he could not take so small a boy, the lad spoke out:— + </p> + <p> + “Don't be afraid, Captain,” said he, “I can drum.” + </p> + <p> + This was spoken with so much confidence that the captain smiled and said + to the sergeant:— + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, bring the drum, and order our fifer to come here.” + </p> + <p> + In a few moments a drum was produced and the fifer, a round-shouldered, + good-natured fellow, who stood six feet tall, made his appearance. Upon + being introduced to the lad, he stooped down, resting his hands on his + knees, and, after peering into the little fellow's face for a moment, + said:— + </p> + <p> + “My little man, can you drum?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” answered the boy promptly. “I drummed for Captain Hill in + Tennessee.” + </p> + <p> + The fifer immediately straightened himself, and, placing his fife to his + lips, played the “Flowers of Edinburgh,” one of the most difficult things + to follow with the drum. And nobly did the little fellow follow him, + showing himself to be master of the drum. + </p> + <p> + When the music ceased the captain turned to the mother and observed:— + </p> + <p> + “Madam, I will take the boy. What is his name?” + </p> + <p> + “Edward Lee,” she replied. Then placing her hand upon the captain's arm, + she continued in a choking voice, “If he is not killed!—Captain,—you + will bring him back to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” he replied, “we shall be certain to bring him back to you. We + shall be discharged in six weeks.” + </p> + <p> + An hour after, the company led the regiment out of camp, the drum and fife + playing “The Girl I left behind me.” + </p> + <p> + Eddie, as the soldiers called him, soon became a great favorite with all + the men of the company. When any of the boys returned from foraging, + Eddie's share of the peaches, melons, and other good things was meted out + first. During the heavy and fatiguing marches, the long-legged fifer often + waded through the mud with the little drummer mounted on his back, and in + the same fashion he carried Eddie when fording streams. + </p> + <p> + During the fight at Wilson's Creek, a part of the company was stationed on + the right of Totten's battery, while the balance of the company was + ordered down into a deep ravine, at the left, in which it was known a + party of Confederates was concealed. + </p> + <p> + An engagement took place. The contest in the ravine continued some time. + Totten suddenly wheeled his battery upon the enemy in that quarter, and + they soon retreated to high ground behind their lines. + </p> + <p> + In less than twenty minutes after Totten had driven the Confederates from + the ravine, the word passed from man to man throughout the army, “Lyon is + killed!” And soon after, hostilities having ceased upon both sides, the + order came for the main part of the Federal force to fall back upon + Springfield, while the lesser part was to camp upon the ground, and cover + the retreat. + </p> + <p> + That night a corporal was detailed for guard duty. His post was upon a + high eminence that overlooked the deep ravine in which the men had engaged + the enemy. It was a dreary, lonesome beat. The hours passed slowly away, + and at length the morning light began to streak along the western sky, + making surrounding objects visible. + </p> + <p> + Presently the corporal heard a drum beating up the morning call. At first + he thought it came from the camp of the Confederates across the creek, but + as he listened he found that it came from the deep ravine. For a few + moments the sound stopped, then began again. The corporal listened + closely. The notes of the drum were familiar to him,—and then he + knew that it was the drummer-boy from Tennessee playing the morning call. + </p> + <p> + Just then the corporal was relieved from guard duty, and, asking + permission, went at once to Eddie's assistance. He started down the hill, + through the thick underbrush, and upon reaching the bottom of the ravine, + he followed the sound of the drum, and soon found the lad seated upon the + ground, his back leaning against a fallen tree, while his drum hung upon a + bush in front of him. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the boy saw his rescuer he dropped his drumsticks, and + exclaimed:— + </p> + <p> + “O Corporal! I am so glad to see you! Give me a drink.” + </p> + <p> + The soldier took his empty canteen, and immediately turned to bring some + water from the brook that he could hear rippling through the bushes near + by, when, Eddie, thinking that he was about to leave him, cried out:— + </p> + <p> + “Don't leave me, Corporal, I can't walk.” + </p> + <p> + The corporal was soon back with the water, when he discovered that both + the lad's feet had been shot away by a cannon-ball. + </p> + <p> + After satisfying his thirst, Eddie looked up into the corporal's face and + said:— + </p> + <p> + “You don't think I shall die, do you? This man said I should not,—he + said the surgeon could cure my feet.” + </p> + <p> + The corporal now looked about him and discovered a man lying in the grass + near by. By his dress he knew him to belong to the Confederate army. It + appeared that he had been shot and had fallen near Eddie. Knowing that he + could not live, and seeing the condition of the drummer-boy, he had + crawled to him, taken off his buckskin suspenders, and had corded the + little fellow's legs below the knees, and then he had laid himself down + and died. + </p> + <p> + While Eddie was telling the corporal these particulars, they heard the + tramp of cavalry coming down the ravine, and in a moment a scout of the + enemy was upon them, and took them both prisoners. + </p> + <p> + The corporal requested the officer in charge to take Eddie up in front of + him, and he did so, carrying the lad with great tenderness and care. When + they reached the Confederate camp the little fellow was dead. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0058" id="link2H_4_0058"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A FLAG INCIDENT + </h2> + <h3> + BY M. M. THOMAS (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + When marching to Chattanooga the corps had reached a little wooded valley + between the mountains. The colonel, with others, rode ahead, and, striking + into a bypath, suddenly came upon a secluded little cabin surrounded by a + patch of cultivated ground. + </p> + <p> + At the door an old woman, eighty years of age, was supporting herself on a + crutch. As they rode up she asked if they were “Yankees,” and upon their + replying that they were, she said: “Have you got the Stars and Stripes + with you? My father fought the Tories in the Revolution, and my old eyes + ache for a sight of the true flag before I die.” + </p> + <p> + To gratify her the colonel sent to have the colors brought that way. When + they were unfurled and planted before her door, she passed her trembling + hands over them and held them close to her eyes that she might view the + stars once more. When the band gave her “Yankee Doodle,” and the + “'Star-Spangled Banner,” she sobbed like a child, as did her daughter, a + woman of fifty, while her three little grandchildren gazed in wonder. + </p> + <p> + They were Eastern people, who had gone to New Orleans to try to improve + their condition. Not being successful, they had moved from place to place + to better themselves, until finally they had settled on this spot, the + husband having taken several acres of land here for a debt. + </p> + <p> + Then the war burst upon them. The man fled to the mountains to avoid the + conscription, and they knew not whether he was alive or dead. They had + managed to support life, but were so retired that they saw very few + people. + </p> + <p> + Leaving them food and supplies, the colonel and the corps passed on. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0059" id="link2H_4_0059"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + TWO HERO-STORIES OF THE CIVIL WAR + </h2> + <h3> + BY BEN LA BREE (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + I. BRAVERY HONORED BY A FOE + </p> + <p> + In a rifle-pit, on the brow of a hill near Fredericksburg, were a number + of Confederate soldiers who had exhausted their ammunition in the vain + attempt to check the advancing column of Hooker's finely equipped and + disciplined army which was crossing the river. To the relief of these few + came the brigade in double-quick time. But no sooner were the soldiers + intrenched than the firing on the opposite side of the river became + terrific. + </p> + <p> + A heavy mist obscured the scene. The Federal soldiers poured a merciless + fire into the trenches. Soon many Confederates fell, and the agonized + cries of the wounded who lay there calling for water, smote the hearts of + their helpless comrades. + </p> + <p> + “Water! Water!” But there was none to give, the canteens were-empty. + </p> + <p> + “Boys,” exclaimed Nathan Cunningham, a lad of eighteen, the color-bearer + for his regiment, “I can't stand this any more. They want water, and water + they must have. So let me have a few canteens and I'll go for some.” + </p> + <p> + Carefully laying the colors, which he had borne on many a field, in a + trench, he seized some canteens, and, leaping into the mist, was soon out + of sight. + </p> + <p> + Shortly after this the firing ceased for a while, and an order came for + the men to fall back to the main line. + </p> + <p> + As the Confederates were retreating they met Nathan Cunningham, his + canteens full of water, hurrying to relieve the thirst of the wounded men + in the trenches. He glanced over the passing column and saw that the faded + flag, which he had carried so long, was not there. The men in their haste + to obey orders HAD FORGOTTEN OR OVERLOOKED THE COLORS. + </p> + <p> + Quickly the lad sped to the trenches, intent now not only on giving water + to his comrades, but on rescuing the flag and so to save the honor of his + regiment. + </p> + <p> + His mission of mercy was soon accomplished. The wounded men drank freely. + The lad then found and seized his colors, and turned to rejoin his + regiment. Scarcely had he gone three paces when a company of Federal + soldiers appeared ascending the hill. + </p> + <p> + “Halt and surrender,” came the stern command, and a hundred rifles were + leveled at the boy's breast. + </p> + <p> + “NEVER! while I hold the colors,” was his firm reply. + </p> + <p> + The morning sun, piercing with a lurid glare the dense mist, showed the + lad proudly standing with his head thrown back and his flag grasped in his + hand, while his unprotected breast was exposed to the fire of his foe. + </p> + <p> + A moment's pause. Then the Federal officer gave his command:— + </p> + <p> + “Back with your pieces, men, don't shoot that brave boy.” + </p> + <p> + And Nathan Cunningham, with colors flying over his head, passed on and + joined his regiment. + </p> + <p> + His comrades in arms still tell with pride of his brave deed and of the + generous act of a foe. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0060" id="link2H_4_0060"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. THE BRAVERY OF RICHARD KIRTLAND + </h2> + <p> + Richard Kirtland was a sergeant in the Second Regiment of South Carolina + Volunteers. The day after the great battle of Fredericksburg, Kershaw's + brigade occupied the road at the foot of Marye's Hill. + </p> + <p> + One hundred and fifty yards in front of the road, on the other side of a + stone wall, lay Sykes's division of the United States Army. Between these + troops and Kershaw's command a skirmish fight was continued through the + entire day. The ground between the lines was literally covered with dead + and dying Federal soldiers. + </p> + <p> + All day long the wounded were calling, “Water! water! water!” + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon, Sergeant Kirtland, a Confederate soldier, went to the + headquarters of General Kershaw, and said with deep emotion: “General, all + through last night and to-day; I have been hearing those poor wounded + Federal soldiers out there cry for water. Let me go and give them some.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you know,” replied the general, “that you would get a bullet + through you the moment you stepped over the wall?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said the sergeant; “but if you will let me go I am willing to + try it.” + </p> + <p> + The general reflected a minute, then answered: “Kirtland, I ought not to + allow you to take this risk, but the spirit that moves you is so noble I + cannot refuse. Go, and may God protect you!” + </p> + <p> + In the face of almost certain death the sergeant climbed the wall, watched + with anxiety by the soldiers of his army. Under the curious gaze of his + foes, and exposed to their fire, he dropped to the ground and hastened on + his errand of mercy. Unharmed, untouched, he reached the nearest sufferer. + He knelt beside him, tenderly raised his drooping head, rested it gently + on his breast, and poured the cooling life-giving water down the parched + throat. This done he laid him carefully down, placed the soldier's + knapsack under his head, straightened his broken limbs, spread his coat + over him, replaced the empty canteen with a full one, then turned to + another sufferer. + </p> + <p> + By this time his conduct was understood by friend and foe alike and the + firing ceased on both sides. + </p> + <p> + For an hour and a half did he pursue his noble mission, until he had + relieved the wounded on all parts of the battlefield. Then he returned to + his post uninjured. + </p> + <p> + Surely such a noble deed is worthy of the admiration of men and angels. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0061" id="link2H_4_0061"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE YOUNG SENTINEL + </h2> + <h3> + BY Z. A. MUDGE (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + In the summer of 1862, a young man belonging to a Vermont regiment was + found sleeping at his post. He was tried and sentenced to be shot. The day + was fixed for the execution, and the young soldier calmly prepared to meet + his fate. + </p> + <p> + Friends who knew of the case brought the matter to Mr. Lincoln's + attention. It seemed that the boy had been on duty one night, and on the + following night he had taken the place of a comrade too ill to stand + guard. The third night he had been again called out, and, being utterly + exhausted, had fallen asleep at his post. + </p> + <p> + As soon as Mr. Lincoln understood the case, he signed a pardon, and sent + it to the camp. The morning before the execution arrived, and the + President had not heard whether the pardon had reached the officers in + charge of the matter. He began to feel uneasy. He ordered a telegram to be + sent to the camp, but received no answer. State papers could not fix his + mind, nor could he banish the condemned soldier boy from his thoughts. + </p> + <p> + At last, feeling that he MUST KNOW that the lad was safe, he ordered the + carriage and rode rapidly ten miles over a dusty road and beneath a + scorching sun. When he reached the camp he found that the pardon had been + received and the execution stayed. + </p> + <p> + The sentinel was released, and his heart was filled with lasting + gratitude. When the campaign opened in the spring, the young man was with + his regiment near Yorktown, Virginia. They were ordered to attack a fort, + and he fell at the first volley of the enemy. + </p> + <p> + His comrades caught him up and carried him bleeding and dying from the + field. “Bear witness,” he said, “that I have proved myself not a coward, + and I am not afraid to die.” Then, making a last effort, with his dying + breath he prayed for Abraham Lincoln. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0062" id="link2H_4_0062"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE COLONEL OF THE ZOUAVES + </h2> + <h3> + BY NOAH BROOKS (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Among those who accompanied Mr. Lincoln, the President-elect, on his + journey from Illinois to the national capital, was Elmer E. Ellsworth, a + young man who had been employed in the law office of Lincoln and Herndon, + Springfield. + </p> + <p> + He was a brave, handsome, and impetuous youth, and was among the first to + offer his services to the President in defense of the Union, as soon as + the mutterings of war were heard. + </p> + <p> + Before the war he had organized a company of Zouaves from the Chicago + firemen, and had delighted and astonished many people by the exhibitions + of their skill in the evolutions through which they were put while + visiting some chief cities of the Republic. + </p> + <p> + Now, being commissioned a second lieutenant in the United States Army, he + went to New York and organized from the firemen of that city a similar + regiment, known as the Eleventh New York. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Ellsworth's Zouaves, on the evening of May 23, were sent with a + considerable force to occupy the heights overlooking Washington and + Alexandria, on the banks of the Potomac, opposite the national capital. + </p> + <p> + Next day, seeing a Confederate flag flying from the Marshall House, a + tavern in Alexandria kept by a secessionist, he went up through the + building to the roof and pulled it down. While on his way down the stairs, + with the flag in his arms, he was met by the tavern-keeper, who shot and + killed him instantly. Ellsworth fell, dyeing the Confederate flag with the + blood that gushed from his heart. The tavern-keeper was instantly killed + by a shot from Private Brownell, of the Ellsworth Zouaves, who was at hand + when his commander fell. + </p> + <p> + The death of Ellsworth, needless though it may have been, caused a + profound sensation throughout the country, where he was well known. He was + among the very first martyrs of the war, as he had been one of the first + volunteers. + </p> + <p> + Lincoln was overwhelmed with sorrow. He had the body of the lamented young + officer taken to the White House, where it lay in state until the burial + took place, and, even in the midst of his increasing cares, he found time + to sit alone and in grief-stricken meditation by the bier of the dead + young soldier of whose career he had cherished so great hopes. + </p> + <p> + The life-blood from Ellsworth's heart had stained not only the Confederate + flag, but a gold medal found under his uniform, bearing the legend: “Non + solum nobis, sed pro patria”; “Not for ourselves alone, but for the + country.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0063" id="link2H_4_0063"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + GENERAL SCOTT AND THE STARS AND STRIPES + </h2> + <h3> + BY E. D. TOWNSEND (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + One day, as the general was sitting at his table in the office, the + messenger announced that a person desired to see him a moment in order to + present a gift. + </p> + <p> + A German was introduced, who said that he was commissioned by a house in + New York to present General Scott with a small silk banner. It was very + handsome, of the size of a regimental flag, and was made of a single piece + of silk stamped with the Stars and Stripes of the proper colors. + </p> + <p> + The German said that the manufacturers who had sent the banner, wished to + express thus the great respect they felt for General Scott, and their + sense of his importance to the country in that perilous time. + </p> + <p> + The general was highly pleased, and, in accepting the gift, assured the + donors that the flag should hang in his room wherever he went, and + enshroud him when he died. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the man was gone, the general desired that the stars might be + counted to see if ALL the States were represented. They were ALL there. + </p> + <p> + The flag was then draped between the windows over the couch where the + general frequently reclined for rest during the day. It went with him in + his berth when he sailed for Europe, after his retirement, and enveloped + his coffin when he was interred at West Point. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0064" id="link2H_4_0064"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + INDEPENDENCE DAY + </h2> + <h3> + (JULY 4) + </h3> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0065" id="link2H_4_0065"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE + </h2> + <h3> + BY WASHINGTON IRVING + </h3> + <p> + While danger was gathering round New York, and its inhabitants were in + mute suspense and fearful anticipations, the General Congress at + Philadelphia was discussing, with closed doors, what John Adams + pronounced: “The greatest question ever debated in America, and as great + as ever was or will be debated among men.” The result was, a resolution + passed unanimously on the 2d of July; “that these United Colonies are, and + of right ought to be, free and independent States.” + </p> + <p> + “The 2d of July,” adds the same patriot statesman, “will be the most + memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it + will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary + festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn + acts of devotion to Almighty God. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and + parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and + illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time + forth forevermore.” + </p> + <p> + The glorious event has, indeed, given rise to an annual jubilee; but not + on the day designated by Adams. The FOURTH of July is the day of national + rejoicing, for on that day the “Declaration of Independence,” that solemn + and sublime document, was adopted. + </p> + <p> + Tradition gives a dramatic effect to its announcement. It was known to be + under discussion, but the closed doors of Congress excluded the populace. + They awaited, in throngs, an appointed signal. In the steeple of the State + House was a bell, imported twenty-three years previously from London by + the Provincial Assembly of Pennsylvania. It bore the portentous text from + Scripture: “Proclaim Liberty throughout all the land, unto all the + inhabitants thereof.” A joyous peal from that bell gave notice that the + bill had been passed. It was the knell of British domination. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0066" id="link2H_4_0066"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SIGNING OF THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE + </h2> + <h3> + BY H. A. GUERBER <a href="#linknote-4" name="linknoteref-4" + id="linknoteref-4"><small>4</small></a> + </h3> + <p> + <a name="linknote-4" id="linknote-4"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 4 (<a href="#linknoteref-4">return</a>)<br /> [ From The Story of the + Thirteen Colonies. Copyright, 1898, by H. A. Guerber. American Book + Company, publishers.] + </p> + <p> + John Hancock, President of Congress, was the first to sign the Declaration + of Independence, writing his name in large, plain letters, and saying:— + </p> + <p> + “There! John Bull can read my name without spectacles. Now let him double + the price on my head, for this is my defiance.” + </p> + <p> + Then he turned to the other members, and solemnly declared:— + </p> + <p> + “We must be unanimous. There must be no pulling different ways. We must + all hang together.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Franklin, quaintly: “we must all hang together, or most + assuredly we shall all hang separately.” + </p> + <p> + We are told that Charles Carroll, thinking that his writing looked shaky, + added the words, “of Carrollton,” so that the king should not be able to + make any mistake as to whose name stood there. + </p> + <p> + A BRAVE GIRL BY JAMES JOHONNOT (ADAPTED) <a href="#linknote-41" + name="linknoteref-41" id="linknoteref-41"><small>41</small></a> <a + name="linknote-41" id="linknote-41"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 41 (<a href="#linknoteref-41">return</a>)<br /> [ From Stories of Heroic + Deeds. Copyright, 1887, by D. Appleton and Company. American Book Company, + publishers.] + </p> + <p> + In the year 1781 the war was chiefly carried on in the South, but the + North was constantly troubled by bands of Tories and Indians, who would + swoop down on small settlements and make off with whatever they could lay + their hands on. + </p> + <p> + During this time General Schuyler was staying at his house, which stood + just outside the stockade or walls of Albany. The British commander sent + out a party of Tories and Indians to capture the general. + </p> + <p> + When they reached the outskirts of the city they learned from a Dutch + laborer that the general's house was guarded by six soldiers, three + watching by night and three by day. They let the Dutchman go, and as soon + as the band was out of sight he hastened to Albany and warned the general + of their approach. + </p> + <p> + Schuyler gathered his family in one of the upper rooms of his house, and + giving orders that the doors and windows should be barred, fired a pistol + from a top-story window, to alarm the neighborhood. + </p> + <p> + The soldiers on guard, who had been lounging in the shade of a tree, + started to their feet at the sound of the pistol; but, alas! too late, for + they found themselves surrounded by a crowd of dusky forms, who bound them + hand and foot, before they had time to resist. + </p> + <p> + In the room upstairs was the sturdy general, standing resolutely at the + door, with gun in hand, while his black slaves were gathered about him, + each with a weapon. At the other end of the room the women were huddled + together, some weeping and some praying. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a deafening crash was heard. The Indian band had broken into the + house. With loud shouts they began to pillage and to destroy everything in + sight. While they were yet busy downstairs, Mrs. Schuyler sprang to her + feet and rushed to the door; for she had suddenly remembered that the + baby, who was only a few months old, was asleep in its cradle in a room on + the first floor. + </p> + <p> + The general caught his wife in his arms, and implored her not to go to + certain death, saying that if any one was to go he would. While this + generous struggle between husband and wife was going on, their young + daughter, who had been standing near the door, glided by them, and + descended the stairs. + </p> + <p> + All was dark in the hall, excepting where the light shone from the + dining-room in which the Indians were pillaging the shelves and fighting + over their booty. How to get past the dining-room door was the question, + but the brave girl did not hesitate. Reaching the lower hall, she walked + very deliberately forward, softly but quickly passing the door, and + unobserved reached the room in which was the cradle. + </p> + <p> + She caught up the baby, crept back past the open door, and was just + mounting the stairs, when one of the savages happened to see her. + </p> + <p> + “WHIZ”—and his sharp tomahawk struck the stair rail within a few + inches of the baby's head. But the frightened girl hurried on, and in a + few seconds was safe in her father's arms. + </p> + <p> + As for the Indians, fearing an attack from the near-by garrison, they + hastened away with the booty they had collected, and left General Schuyler + and his family unharmed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0067" id="link2H_4_0067"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE BOSTON TEA-PARTY + </h2> + <h3> + BY JOHN ANDREWS (ADAPTED) <a href="#linknote-5" name="linknoteref-5" + id="linknoteref-5"><small>5</small></a> + </h3> + <p> + <a name="linknote-5" id="linknote-5"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 5 (<a href="#linknoteref-5">return</a>)<br /> [ From a letter written to a + friend in 1773.] + </p> + <p> + On November 29, 1773, there arrived in Boston Harbor a ship carrying an + hundred and odd chests of the detested tea. The people in the country + roundabout, as well as the town's folk, were unanimous against allowing + the landing of it; but the agents in charge of the consignment persisted + in their refusal to take the tea back to London. The town bells were rung, + for a general muster of the citizens. Handbills were stuck up calling on + “Friends! Citizens! Countrymen!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Rotch, the owner of the ship, found himself exposed not only to the + loss of his ship, but to the loss of the money-value of the tea itself, if + he should attempt to send her back without clearance papers from the + custom-house; for the admiral kept a vessel in readiness to seize any ship + which might leave without those papers. Therefore, Mr. Rotch declared that + his ship should not carry back the tea without either the proper clearance + or the promise of full indemnity for any losses he might incur. + </p> + <p> + Matters continued thus for some days, when a general muster was called of + the people of Boston and of all the neighboring towns. They met, to the + number of five or six thousand, at ten o'clock in the morning, in the Old + South Meeting-House; where they passed a unanimous vote THAT THE TEA + SHOULD GO OUT OF THE HARBOR THAT AFTERNOON! + </p> + <p> + A committee, with Mr. Rotch, was sent to the custom-house to demand a + clearance. This the collector said he could not give without the duties + first being paid. Mr. Rotch was then sent to ask for a pass from the + governor, who returned answer that “consistent with the rules of + government and his duty to the king he could not grant one without they + produced a previous clearance from the office.” + </p> + <p> + By the time Mr. Rotch returned to the Old South Meeting-House with this + message, the candles were lighted and the house still crowded with people. + When the governor's message was read a prodigious shout was raised, and + soon afterward the moderator declared the meeting dissolved. This caused + another general shout, outdoors and in, and what with the noise of + breaking up the meeting, one might have thought that the inhabitants of + the infernal regions had been let loose. + </p> + <p> + That night there mustered upon Fort Hill about two hundred strange + figures, SAID TO BE INDIANS FROM NARRAGANSETT. They were clothed in + blankets, with heads muffled, and had copper-colored countenances. Each + was armed with a hatchet or axe, and a pair of pistols. They spoke a + strange, unintelligible jargon. + </p> + <p> + They proceeded two by two to Griffin's Wharf, where three tea-ships lay, + each with one hundred and fourteen chests of the ill-fated article on + board. And before nine o'clock in the evening every chest was knocked into + pieces and flung over the sides. + </p> + <p> + Not the least insult was offered to any one, save one Captain Conner, who + had ripped up the linings of his coat and waistcoat, and, watching his + opportunity, had filled them with tea. But, being detected, he was handled + pretty roughly. They not only stripped him of his clothes, but gave him a + coat of mud, with a severe bruising into the bargain. Nothing but their + desire not to make a disturbance prevented his being tarred and feathered. + </p> + <p> + The tea being thrown overboard, all the Indians disappeared in a most + marvelous fashion. + </p> + <p> + The next day, if a stranger had walked through the streets of Boston, and + had observed the calm composure of the people, he would hardly have + thought that ten thousand pounds sterling of East India Company's tea had + been destroyed the night before. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0068" id="link2H_4_0068"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A GUNPOWDER STORY + </h2> + <h3> + BY JOHN ESTEN COOKE (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + [ From Stories of the Old + Dominion. Used by permission of the American Book Company, publishers.] + </p> + <p> + In the autumn of 1777 the English decided to attack Fort Henry, at + Wheeling, in northwestern Virginia. This was an important border fort + named in honor of Patrick Henry, and around which had grown up a small + village of about twenty-five log houses. + </p> + <p> + A band of Indians, under the leadership of one Simon Girty, was supplied + by the English with muskets and ammunition, and sent against the fort. + This Girty was a white man, who, when a boy, had been captured by Indians, + and brought up by them. He had joined their tribes, and was a ferocious + and bloodthirsty leader of savage bands. + </p> + <p> + When the settlers at Wheeling heard that Simon Girty and his Indians were + advancing on the town, they left their homes and hastened into the fort. + Scarcely had they done so when the savages made their appearance. + </p> + <p> + The defenders of the fort knew that a desperate fight must now take place, + and there seemed little probability that they would be able to hold out + against their assailants. They had only forty two fighting men, including + old men and boys, while the Indian force numbered about five hundred. + </p> + <p> + What was worse they had but a small amount of gunpowder. A keg containing + the main supply had been left by accident in one of the village houses. + This misfortune, as you will soon see, brought about the brave action of a + young girl. + </p> + <p> + After several encounters with the savages, which took place in the + village, the defenders withdrew to the fort. Then a number of Indians + advanced with loud yells, firing as they came. The fire was returned by + the defenders, each of whom had picked out his man, and taken deadly aim. + Most of the attacking party were killed, and the whole body of Indians + fell back into the near-by woods, and there awaited a more favorable + opportunity to renew hostilities. + </p> + <p> + The men in the fort now discovered, to their great dismay, that their + gunpowder was nearly gone. What was to be done? Unless they could get + another supply, they would not be able to hold the fort, and they and + their women and children would either be massacred or carried into + captivity. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Shepherd, who was in command, explained to the settlers exactly + how matters stood. He also told them of the forgotten keg of powder which + was in a house standing about sixty yards from the gate of the fort. + </p> + <p> + It was plain to all that if any man should attempt to procure the keg, he + would almost surely be shot by the lurking Indians. In spite of this three + or four young men volunteered to go on the dangerous mission. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Shepherd replied that he could not spare three or four strong men, + as there were already too few for the defense. Only one man should make + the attempt and they might decide who was to go. This caused a dispute. + </p> + <p> + Just then a young girl stepped forward and said that SHE was ready to go. + Her name was Elizabeth Zane, and she had just returned from a + boarding-school in Philadelphia. This made her brave offer all the more + remarkable, since she had not been bred up to the fearless life of the + border. + </p> + <p> + At first the men would not hear of her running such a risk. She was told + that it meant certain death. But she urged that they could not spare a man + from the defense, and that the loss of one girl would not be an important + matter. So after some discussion the settlers agreed that she should go + for the powder. + </p> + <p> + The house, as has already been stated, stood about sixty yards from the + fort, and Elizabeth hoped to run thither and bring back the powder in a + few minutes. The gate was opened, and she passed through, running like a + deer. + </p> + <p> + A few straggling Indians were dodging about the log houses of the town; + they saw the fleeing girl, but for some reason they did not fire upon her. + They may have supposed that she was returning to her home to rescue her + clothes. Possibly they thought it a waste of good ammunition to fire at a + woman, when they were so sure of taking the fort before long. So they + looked on quietly while, with flying skirts, Elizabeth ran across the + open, and entered the house. + </p> + <p> + She found the keg of powder, which was not large. She lifted it with both + arms, and, holding the precious burden close to her breast, she darted out + of the house and ran in the direction of the fort. + </p> + <p> + When the Indians saw what she was carrying they uttered fierce yells and + fired. The bullets fell like hail about her, but not one so much as + touched her garments. With the keg hugged to her bosom, she ran on, and + reached the fort in safety. The gate closed upon her just as the bullets + of the Indians buried themselves in its thick panels. + </p> + <p> + The rescued gunpowder enabled the little garrison to hold out until help + arrived from the other settlements near Wheeling. And Girty, seeing that + there were no further hopes of taking Fort Henry, withdrew his band. + </p> + <p> + Thus a weak but brave girl was the means of saving strong men with their + wives and children. It was a heroic act, and Americans should never forget + to honor the name of Elizabeth Zane. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0069" id="link2H_4_0069"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CAPTURE OF FORT TICONDEROGA + </h2> + <h3> + BY WASHINGTON IRVING (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Some bold spirits in Connecticut conceived the project of surprising the + old forts of Ticonderoga and Crown Point, already famous in the French + War. Their situation on Lake Champlain gave them the command of the main + route into Canada so that the possession of them would be all-important in + case of hostilities. They were feebly garrisoned and negligently guarded, + and abundantly furnished with artillery and military stores so needed by + the patriot army. + </p> + <p> + At this juncture Ethan Allen stepped forward, a patriot, and volunteered + with his “Green Mountain Boys.” He was well fitted for the enterprise. + During the border warfare over the New Hampshire Grants, he and his + lieutenants had been outlawed by the Legislature of New York and rewards + offered for their apprehension. He and his associates had armed + themselves, set New York at defiance, and had sworn they would be the + death of any one who should try to arrest them. + </p> + <p> + Thus Ethan Allen had become a kind of Robin Hood among the mountains. His + experience as a frontier champion, his robustness of mind and body, and + his fearless spirit made him a most desirable leader in the expedition + against Fort Ticonderoga. Therefore he was appointed at the head of the + attacking force. + </p> + <p> + Accompanied by Benjamin Arnold and two other officers, Allen and his party + of soldiers who had been enlisted from several States, set out and arrived + at Shoreham, opposite Fort Ticonderoga on the shore of Lake Champlain. + They reached the place at night-time. There were only a few boats on hand, + but the transfer of men began immediately. It was slow work. The night + wore away; day was about to break, and but eighty-three men, with Allen + and Arnold, had crossed. Should they wait for the rest to cross over, day + would dawn, the garrison wake, and their enterprise might fail. + </p> + <p> + Allen drew up his men, addressed them in his own emphatic style, and + announced his intention of making a dash at the fort without waiting for + more force. + </p> + <p> + “It is a desperate attempt,” said he, “and I ask no man to go against his + will. I will take the lead, and be the first to advance. You that are + willing to follow, poise your firelocks!” + </p> + <p> + Not a firelock but was poised! + </p> + <p> + They mounted the hill briskly but in silence, guided by a boy from the + neighborhood. + </p> + <p> + The day dawned as Allen arrived at a sally-port. A sentry pulled trigger + on him, but his piece missed fire. He retreated through a covered way. + Allen and his men followed. Another sentry thrust at an officer with his + bayonet, but was struck down by Allen, and begged for quarter. It was + granted on condition of his leading the way instantly to the quarters of + the commandant, Captain Delaplace, who was yet in bed. + </p> + <p> + Being arrived there, Allen thundered at the door, and demanded a surrender + of the fort. By this time his followers had formed into two lines on the + parade-ground, and given three hearty cheers. + </p> + <p> + The commandant appeared at the door half-dressed, the frightened face of + his pretty wife peering over his shoulder. He gazed at Allen in bewildered + astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “By whose authority do you act?” exclaimed he. + </p> + <p> + “In the name of the Continental Congress!” replied Allen, with a flourish + of his sword, and an oath which we do not care to subjoin. + </p> + <p> + There was no disputing the point. The garrison, like the commandant, had + been startled from sleep, and made prisoners as they rushed forth in their + confusion. A surrender accordingly took place. The captain and forty-eight + men who composed his garrison were sent prisoners to Hartford, in + Connecticut. + </p> + <p> + And thus without the loss of a single man, one of the important forts, + commanding the main route into Canada, fell into the hands of the + patriots. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0070" id="link2H_4_0070"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WASHINGTON AND THE COWARDS + </h2> + <h3> + BY WASHINGTON IRVING (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + During the evacuation of New York by Washington, two divisions of the + enemy, encamped on Long Island, one British under Sir Henry Clinton, the + other Hessian under Colonel Donop, emerged in boats from the deep wooded + recesses of Newtown Inlet, and under cover of the fire from the ships + began to land at two points between Turtle and Kip's Bays. + </p> + <p> + The breastworks were manned by patriot militia who had recently served in + Brooklyn. Disheartened by their late defeat, they fled at the first + advance of the enemy. Two brigades of Putnam's Connecticut troops, which + had been sent that morning to support them, caught the panic, and, + regardless of the commands and entreaties of their officers, joined in the + general scamper. + </p> + <p> + At this moment Washington, who had mounted his horse at the first sound of + the cannonade, came galloping to the scene of confusion. Riding in among + the fugitives he endeavored to rally and restore them to order. All in + vain. At the first appearance of sixty or seventy redcoats, they broke + again without firing a shot, and fled in headlong terror. + </p> + <p> + Losing all self-command at the sight of such dastardly conduct, Washington + dashed his hat upon the ground in a transport of rage. + </p> + <p> + “Are these the men,” exclaimed he, “with whom I am to defend America!” + </p> + <p> + In a paroxysm of passion and despair he snapped his pistols at some of + them, threatened others with his sword, and was so heedless of his own + danger that he might have fallen into the hands of the enemy, who were not + eighty yards distant, had not an aide-de-camp seized the bridle of his + horse, and absolutely hurried him away. + </p> + <p> + It was one of the rare moments of his life when the vehement element of + his nature was stirred up from its deep recesses. He soon recovered his + self-possession, and took measures against the general peril. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0071" id="link2H_4_0071"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LABOR DAY + </h2> + <h3> + (FIRST MONDAY IN SEPTEMBER) + </h3> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0072" id="link2H_4_0072"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SMITHY + </h2> + <h3> + A HINDU FABLE + </h3> + <p> + BY P. V. RAMASWAMI RAJU (ADAPTED) + </p> + <p> + Once words ran high in a smithy. + </p> + <p> + The furnace said: “If I cease to burn, the smithy must close.” + </p> + <p> + The bellows said: “If I cease to blow, no fire, no smithy.” + </p> + <p> + The hammer and anvil, also, each claimed the sole credit for keeping up + the smithy. + </p> + <p> + The ploughshare that had been shaped by the furnace, the bellows, the + hammer and the anvil, cried: “It is not each of you alone, that keeps up + the smithy, but ALL TOGETHER.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0073" id="link2H_4_0073"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE NAIL + </h2> + <h3> + BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM (TRANSLATED)<a href="#linknote-7" + name="linknoteref-7" id="linknoteref-7"><small>7</small></a> + </h3> + <p> + <a name="linknote-7" id="linknote-7"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 7 (<a href="#linknoteref-7">return</a>)<br /> [ From the Riverside Fourth + Reader.] + </p> + <p> + A merchant had done good business at the fair; he had sold his wares, and + filled his bag with gold and silver. Then he set out at once on his + journey home, for he wished to be in his own house before night. + </p> + <p> + At noon he rested in a town. When he wanted to go on, the stable-boy + brought his horse, saying: + </p> + <p> + “A nail is wanting, sir, in the shoe of his left hind foot.” + </p> + <p> + “Let it be wanting,” answered the merchant; “the shoe will stay on for the + six miles I have still to go. I am in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon he got down at an inn and had his horse fed. The + stable-boy came into the room to him and said: “Sir, a shoe is wanting + from your horse's left hind foot. Shall I take him to the blacksmith?” + </p> + <p> + “Let it still be wanting,” said the man; “the horse can very well hold out + for a couple of miles more. I am in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + So the merchant rode forth, but before long the horse began to limp. He + had not limped long before he began to stumble, and he had not stumbled + long before he fell down and broke his leg. The merchant had to leave the + horse where he fell, and unstrap the bag, take it on his back, and go home + on foot. + </p> + <p> + “That unlucky nail,” said he to himself, “has made all this trouble.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0074" id="link2H_4_0074"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE ELVES AND THE SHOEMAKER + </h2> + <h3> + BY HORACE E. SCUDDER + </h3> + <p> + There was once a shoemaker who worked very hard and was honest. Still, he + could not earn enough to live on. At last, all he had in the world was + gone except just leather enough to make one pair of shoes. He cut these + out at night, and meant to rise early the next morning to make them up. + </p> + <p> + His heart was light in spite of his troubles, for his conscience was + clear. So he went quietly to bed, left all his cares to God, and fell + asleep. In the morning he said his prayers, and sat down to work, when, to + his great wonder, there stood the shoes, already made, upon the table. + </p> + <p> + The good man knew not what to say or think. He looked at the work. There + was not one false stitch in the whole job. All was neat and true. + </p> + <p> + That same day a customer came in, and the shoes pleased him so well that + he readily paid a price higher than usual for them. The shoemaker took the + money and bought leather enough to make two pairs more. He cut out the + work in the evening, and went to bed early. He wished to be up with the + sun and get to work. + </p> + <p> + He was saved all trouble, for when he got up in the morning, the work was + done. Pretty soon buyers came in, who paid him well for his goods. So he + bought leather enough for four pairs more. + </p> + <p> + He cut out the work again overnight, and found it finished in the morning + as before. So it went on for some time. What was got ready at night was + always done by daybreak, and the good man soon was well-to-do. + </p> + <p> + One evening, at Christmas-time, he and his wife sat over the fire, + chatting, and he said: “I should like to sit up and watch to-night, that + we may see who it is that comes and does my work for me.” So they left the + light burning, and hid themselves behind a curtain to see what would + happen. + </p> + <p> + As soon as it was midnight, there came two little Elves. They sat upon the + shoemaker's bench, took up all the work that was cut out, and began to ply + their little fingers. They stitched and rapped and tapped at such a rate + that the shoemaker was amazed, and could not take his eyes off them for a + moment. + </p> + <p> + On they went till the job was done, and the shoes stood, ready for use, + upon the table. This was long before daybreak. Then they ran away as quick + as lightning. + </p> + <p> + The next day the wife said to the shoemaker: “These little Elves have made + us rich, and we ought to be thankful to them, and do them some good in + return. I am vexed to see them run about as they do. They have nothing + upon their backs to keep off the cold. I'll tell you what we must do. I + will make each of them a shirt, and a coat and waistcoat, and a pair of + pantaloons into the bargain. Do you make each of them a little pair of + shoes.” + </p> + <p> + The good shoemaker liked the thought very well. One evening he and his + wife had the clothes ready, and laid them on the table instead of the work + they used to cut out. Then they went and hid behind the curtain to watch + what the little Elves would do. + </p> + <p> + At midnight the Elves came in and were going to sit down at their work as + usual. But when they saw the clothes lying there for them, they laughed + and were in high glee. They dressed themselves in the twinkling of an eye, + and danced and capered and sprang about as merry as could be, till at last + they danced out of the door, and over the green. + </p> + <p> + The shoemaker saw them no more, but everything went well with him as long + as he lived. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0075" id="link2H_4_0075"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE HILLMAN AND THE HOUSEWIFE + </h2> + <h3> + BY JULIANA HORATIA EWING (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + It is well known that the Fairy People cannot abide meanness. They like to + be liberally dealt with when they beg or borrow of the human race; and, on + the other hand, to those who come to them in need, they are invariably + generous. + </p> + <p> + Now there once lived a certain housewife who had a sharp eye to her own + interests, and gave alms of what she had no use for, hoping to get some + reward in return. One day a Hillman knocked at her door. + </p> + <p> + “Can you lend us a saucepan, good mother?” said he. “There's a wedding in + the hill, and all the pots are in use.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he to have one?” asked the servant lass who had opened the door. + </p> + <p> + “Aye, to be sure,” answered the housewife; “one must be neighborly.” + </p> + <p> + But when the maid was taking a saucepan from the shelf, the housewife + pinched her arm and whispered sharply: “Not that, you good-for-nothing! + Get the old one out of the cupboard. It leaks, and the Hillmen are so + neat, and such nimble workers, that they are sure to mend it before they + send it home. So one obliges the Fairy People, and saves sixpence in + tinkering!” + </p> + <p> + Thus bidden the maid fetched the saucepan, which had been laid by until + the tinker's next visit, and gave it to the Hillman, who thanked her and + went away. + </p> + <p> + In due time the saucepan was returned, and, as the housewife had foreseen, + it was neatly mended and ready for use. + </p> + <p> + At supper-time the maid filled the pan with milk, and set it on the fire + for the children's supper. But in a few minutes the milk was so burnt and + smoked that no one could touch it, and even the pigs refused to drink it. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, good-for-nothing hussy!” cried the housewife, as she refilled the pan + herself, “you would ruin the richest with your carelessness! There's a + whole quart of good milk wasted at once!” + </p> + <p> + “AND THAT'S TWOPENCE!” cried a voice that seemed to come from the chimney, + in a whining tone, like some discontented old body going over her + grievances. + </p> + <p> + The housewife had not left the saucepan for two minutes, when the milk + boiled over, and it was all burnt and smoked as before. + </p> + <p> + “The pan must be dirty,” muttered the good woman in vexation, “and there + are two full quarts of milk as good as thrown to the dogs.” + </p> + <p> + “AND THAT'S FOURPENCE!” added the voice in the chimney. + </p> + <p> + After a thorough cleaning the saucepan was once more filled and set on the + fire, but with no better success. The milk boiled over again, and was + hopelessly spoiled. The housewife shed tears of anger at the waste and + cried: “Never before did such a thing befall me since I kept house! Three + quarts of new milk burnt for one meal.” + </p> + <p> + “AND THAT'S SIXPENCE!” cried the voice in the chimney. “You didn't save + the tinkering after all, mother!” + </p> + <p> + With that the Hillman himself came tumbling down from the chimney, and + went off laughing through the door. + </p> + <p> + But from then on the saucepan was as good as any other. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0076" id="link2H_4_0076"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + HOFUS THE STONE-CUTTER + </h2> + <h3> + A JAPANESE LEGEND + </h3> + <p> + FROM THE RIVERSIDE THIRD READER (ADAPTED) + </p> + <p> + Once upon a time in Japan, there was a poor stone-cutter, named Hofus, who + used to go every day to the mountain-side to cut great blocks of stone. He + lived near the mountain in a little stone hut, and worked hard and was + happy. + </p> + <p> + One day he took a load of stone to the house of a rich man. There he saw + so many beautiful things that when he went back to his mountain he could + think of nothing else. Then he began to wish that he too might sleep in a + bed as soft as down, with curtains of silk, and tassels of gold. And he + sighed:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Ah me! Ah me! + If Hofus only were rich as he!” + </pre> + <p> + To his surprise, the voice of the Mountain Spirit answered:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Have thou thy wish!” + </pre> + <p> + When Hofus returned home that evening his little hut was gone, and in its + place stood a great palace. It was filled with beautiful things, and the + best of all was a bed of down, with curtains of silk and tassels of gold. + </p> + <p> + Hofus decided to work no more. But he was not used to being idle, and time + passed slowly,—the days seemed very long. + </p> + <p> + One day as he sat by the window he saw a carriage dash past. It was drawn + by snow-white horses. In it sat a prince, while before and behind were + servants in suits of blue and white. One was holding a golden umbrella + over the prince. + </p> + <p> + When the stone-cutter saw this, he began to feel unhappy, and he sighed:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Ah me! Ah me! + If Hofus only a prince might be!” + </pre> + <p> + And again the same voice that he had heard on the mountain answered:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Be thou a prince!” + </pre> + <p> + Straightway Hofus was a prince. He had servants dressed in crimson and + gold, and he rode in a carriage with a golden umbrella over his head. + </p> + <p> + For a short time he was happy, but one day, as he walked in the garden, he + saw that the flowers were drooping, the grass was dry and brown. And when + he rode out he felt the hot sun burn him in spite of his umbrella. + </p> + <p> + “The sun is mightier than I,” thought he, and then he sighed:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Ah me! Ah me! + If Hofus only the sun might be!” + </pre> + <p> + And the voice answered:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Be thou the sun!” + </pre> + <p> + Straightway the great sun he became. He burned the grass and rice fields. + He dried up the streams. Rich and poor alike suffered from the terrible + heat. + </p> + <p> + One day a cloud came and rested in front of him, and hid the earth from + his sight. He was angry and cried:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Ah me! Ah me! + If Hofus only a cloud might be!” + </pre> + <p> + And the voice answered:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Be thou a cloud!” + </pre> + <p> + Straightway a cloud he became. He floated before the face of the sun, and + hid the earth from it. + </p> + <p> + Then day after day the cloud dropped rain. The rivers overflowed, and the + rice-fields were covered with water. Towns were swept away. Only the great + rocks on the mountain-side stood unmoved midst the flood. + </p> + <p> + The cloud looked at them in wonder, then he sighed:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Ah me! Ah me! + If Hofus only a rock might be!” + </pre> + <p> + And the voice answered:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Be thou a rock!” + </pre> + <p> + Straightway a rock he became. Proudly he stood. The sun could not burn him + and the rain could not move him. + </p> + <p> + “Now, at last,” he said, “no one is mightier than I.” + </p> + <p> + But one day he was waked from his dreams by a noise,—tap! tap! tap!—down + at his feet. He looked and there was a stone-cutter driving his tool into + the rock. Another blow and the great rock shivered; a block of stone broke + away. + </p> + <p> + “That man is mightier than I!” cried Hofus, and he sighed:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Ah me! Ah me! + If Hofus only the man might be!” + </pre> + <p> + And the voice answered:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Be thou thyself!” + </pre> + <p> + And straightway Hofus was himself again,—a poor stone-cutter, + working all day upon the mountain-side, and going home at night to his + little hut. But he was content and happy, and never again did he wish to + be other than Hofus the stone-cutter. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0077" id="link2H_4_0077"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ARACHNE + </h2> + <h3> + BY JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY + </h3> + <p> + There was a certain maiden of Lydia, Arachne by name, renowned throughout + the country for her skill as a weaver. She was as nimble with her fingers + as Calypso, that Nymph who kept Odysseus for seven years in her enchanted + island. She was as untiring as Penelope, the hero's wife, who wove day + after day while she watched for his return. Day in and day out, Arachne + wove too. The very Nymphs would gather about her loom, Naiads from the + water and Dryads from the trees. + </p> + <p> + “Maiden,” they would say, shaking the leaves or the foam from their hair, + in wonder, “Pallas Athena must have taught you!” + </p> + <p> + But this did not please Arachne. She would not acknowledge herself a + debtor, even to that goddess who protected all household arts, and by + whose grace alone one had any skill in them. + </p> + <p> + “I learned not of Athena,” said she. “If she can weave better, let her + come and try.” + </p> + <p> + The Nymphs shivered at this, and an aged woman, who was looking on, turned + to Arachne. + </p> + <p> + “Be more heedful of your words, my daughter,” said she. “The goddess may + pardon you if you ask forgiveness, but do not strive for honors with the + immortals.” + </p> + <p> + Arachne broke her thread, and the shuttle stopped humming. + </p> + <p> + “Keep your counsel,” she said. “I fear not Athena; no, nor any one else.” + </p> + <p> + As she frowned at the old woman, she was amazed to see her change suddenly + into one tall, majestic, beautiful,—a maiden of gray eyes and golden + hair, crowned with a golden helmet. It was Athena herself. + </p> + <p> + The bystanders shrank in fear and reverence; only Arachne was unawed and + held to her foolish boast. + </p> + <p> + In silence the two began to weave, and the Nymphs stole nearer, coaxed by + the sound of the shuttles, that seemed to be humming with delight over the + two webs,—back and forth like bees. + </p> + <p> + They gazed upon the loom where the goddess stood plying her task, and they + saw shapes and images come to bloom out of the wondrous colors, as sunset + clouds grow to be living creatures when we watch them. And they saw that + the goddess, still merciful, was spinning; as a warning for Arachne, the + pictures of her own triumph over reckless gods and mortals. + </p> + <p> + In one corner of the web she made a story of her conquest over the sea-god + Poseidon. For the first king of Athens had promised to dedicate the city + to that god who should bestow upon it the most useful gift. Poseidon gave + the horse. But Athena gave the olive,—means of livelihood,—symbol + of peace and prosperity, and the city was called after her name. Again she + pictured a vain woman of Troy, who had been turned into a crane for + disputing the palm of beauty with a goddess. Other corners of the web held + similar images, and the whole shone like a rainbow. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Arachne, whose head was quite turned with vanity, embroidered + her web with stories against the gods, making light of Zeus himself and of + Apollo, and portraying them as birds and beasts. But she wove with + marvelous skill; the creatures seemed to breathe and speak, yet it was all + as fine as the gossamer that you find on the grass before rain. + </p> + <p> + Athena herself was amazed. Not even her wrath at the girl's insolence + could wholly overcome her wonder. For an instant she stood entranced; then + she tore the web across, and three times she touched Arachne's forehead + with her spindle. + </p> + <p> + “Live on, Arachne,” she said. “And since it is your glory to weave, you + and yours must weave forever.” So saying, she sprinkled upon the maiden a + certain magical potion. + </p> + <p> + Away went Arachne's beauty; then her very human form shrank to that of a + spider, and so remained. As a spider she spent all her days weaving and + weaving; and you may see something like her handiwork any day among the + rafters. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0078" id="link2H_4_0078"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE METAL KING + </h2> + <h3> + A GERMAN FOLE-TALE + </h3> + <p> + (ADAPTED) + </p> + <p> + Once long ago there was a high mountain whose rocks were veined with gold + and silver and seamed with iron. At times, from a huge rent in the + mountain-side, there shot out roaring, red flames, and clouds of black + smoke. And when the village folk in the valley below saw this, they would + say: “Look! the Metal King is at his forge.” For they knew that in the + gloomy heart of the mountain, the Metal King and his Spirits of the Mines + wrought in gold and iron. + </p> + <p> + When the storm raged over the valley, the Metal King left his cavern and + riding on the wings of the wind, with thundering shouts, hurled his + red-hot bolts into the valley, now killing the peasants and their cattle, + now burning houses and barns. + </p> + <p> + But when the weather was soft and mild, and the breezes blew gently about + the mouth of his cavern, the Metal King returned to his forge in the + depths of the mountain, and there shaped ploughshares and many other + implements of iron. These he placed outside his cavern door, as gifts to + the poor peasants. + </p> + <p> + It happened, on a time, there lived in that valley a lazy lad, who would + neither till his fields nor ply a trade. He was avaricious, but he longed + to win gold without mining, and wealth and fame without labor. So it came + to pass that he set out one day to find the mountain treasure of the Metal + King. + </p> + <p> + Taking a lighted lantern in one hand, a hatchet in the other, and a bundle + of twigs under his arm, he entered the dark cavern. The dampness smote his + cheek, bats flapped their wings in his face. Shivering with fear and cold, + he pressed on through a long passage under an arched and blackened roof. + As he passed along he dropped his twigs, one after another, so that they + might guide him aright when he returned. + </p> + <p> + He came at last to a place where the passage branched off in two + directions,—to the right and to the left. Choosing the right-hand + path, he walked on and at length came to an iron door. He struck it twice + with his hammer. It flew open, and a strong current of air rushing forth + put out his light. + </p> + <p> + “Come in! Come in!” shouted a voice like the rolling of thunder, and the + cavern echoes gave back the sounds. + </p> + <p> + Almost overcome by terror and shivering in every limb, the lad entered. As + he stepped forward a dazzling light shone from the vaulted roof upheld by + massive columns, and across the crystal side-walls flittered curious, + shadowy figures. + </p> + <p> + The Metal King, huge and fierce-eyed, surrounded by the misshapen Spirits + of the Mines, sat upon a block of pure silver, with a pile of shining gold + lying before him. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, my friend!” he shouted again, and again the echoes rolled + through the cavern. + </p> + <p> + “Come near, and sit beside me.” + </p> + <p> + The lad advanced, pale and trembling, and took his seat upon the silver + block. + </p> + <p> + “Bring out more treasure,” cried the Metal King, and at his command the + Mountain Spirits fluttered away like dreams, only to return in a moment + and pile high before the wondering lad bars of red gold, mounds of silver + coin, and stacks of precious jewels. + </p> + <p> + And when the lad saw all that wealth he felt his heart burst with longing + to grasp it, but when he tried to put out his hand, he found that he could + not move his arm, nor could he lift his feet, nor turn his head. + </p> + <p> + “Thou seest these riches,” said the Metal King; “they are but a handful + compared with those thou mayest gain if thou wilt work with us in the + mines. Hard is the service but rich the reward! Only say the word, and for + a year and a day thou shalt be a Mountain Spirit.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” stammered the lad, in great terror, “nay, I came not to work. All I + beg of thee is one bar of gold and a handful of the jewels that lie here. + If they are mine I can dress better than the village lads, and ride in my + own coach!” + </p> + <p> + “Lazy, ungrateful wretch!” cried the Metal King, rising from his seat, + while his figure seemed to tower until his head touched the cavern roof, + “wouldst thou seize without pay the treasures gained through the hard + labor of my Mountain Spirits! Hence! Get thee gone to thy place! Seek not + here for unearned riches! Cast away thy discontented disposition and thou + shalt turn stones into gold. Dig well thy garden and thy fields, sow them + and tend them diligently, search the mountain-sides; and thou shalt gain + through thine industry mines of gold and silver!” + </p> + <p> + Scarcely had the Metal King spoken when there was heard a screeching as of + ravens, a crying as of night owls, and a mighty storm wind came rushing + against the lad; and catching him up it drove him forth along the dark + passage, and down the mountain-side, so that in a minute he found himself + on the steps of his own house. + </p> + <p> + And from that time on a strange change came over the lad. He no longer + idled and dreamed of sudden wealth, but morning, noon, and evening he + labored diligently, sowing his fields, cultivating his garden, and mining + on the mountain-side. Years came and went; all he touched prospered, and + he grew to be the richest man in that country; but never again did he see + the Metal King or the Spirits of the Mines. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0079" id="link2H_4_0079"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CHOICE OF HERCULES + </h2> + <h3> + BY XENOPHON (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Long, long ago, when the world was young, there were many deeds waiting to + be wrought by daring heroes. It was then that the mighty Hercules, who was + yet a lad, felt an exceeding great and strong desire to go out into the + wide world to seek his fortune. + </p> + <p> + One day, while wandering alone and thoughtful, he came to a place where + two paths met. And sitting down he gravely considered which he should + follow. + </p> + <p> + One path led over flowery meadows toward the darkening distance; the + other, passing over rough stones and rugged, brown furrows, lost itself in + the glowing sunset. + </p> + <p> + And as Hercules gazed into the distance, he saw two stately maidens coming + toward him. + </p> + <p> + The first was tall and graceful, and wrapped round in a snow-white mantle. + Her countenance was calm and beautiful. With gracious mien and modest + glance she drew near the lad. + </p> + <p> + The other maiden made haste to outrun the first. She, too, was tall, but + seemed taller than she really was. She, too, was beautiful, but her glance + was bold. As she ran, a rosy garment like a cloud floated about her form, + and she kept looking at her own round arms and shapely hands, and ever and + anon she seemed to gaze admiringly at her shadow as it moved along the + ground. And this fair one did outstrip the first maiden, and rushing + forward held out her white hands to the lad, exclaiming:— + </p> + <p> + “I see thou art hesitating, O Hercules, by what path to seek thy fortune. + Follow me along this flowery way, and I will make it a delightful and easy + road. Thou shalt taste to the full of every kind of pleasure. No shadow of + annoyance shall ever touch thee, nor strain nor stress of war and state + disturb thy peace. Instead thou shalt tread upon carpets soft as velvet, + and sit at golden tables, or recline upon silken couches. The fairest of + maidens shall attend thee, music and perfume shall lull thy senses, and + all that is delightful to eat and drink shall be placed before thee. Never + shalt thou labor, but always live in joy and ease. Oh, come! I give my + followers liberty and delight!” + </p> + <p> + And as she spoke the maiden stretched forth her arms, and the tones of her + voice were sweet and caressing. + </p> + <p> + “What, O maiden,” asked Hercules, “is thy name?” + </p> + <p> + “My friends,” said she, “call me Happiness, but mine enemies name me + Vice.” + </p> + <p> + Even as she spoke, the white-robed maiden, who had drawn near, glided + forward, and addressed the lad in gracious tones and with words stately + and winning:— + </p> + <p> + “O beloved youth, who wouldst wander forth in search of Life, I too, would + plead with thee! I, Virtue, have watched and tended thee from a child. I + know the fond care thy parents have bestowed to train thee for a hero's + part. Direct now thy steps along yon rugged path that leads to my + dwelling. Honorable and noble mayest thou become through thy illustrious + deeds. + </p> + <p> + “I will not seduce thee by promises of vain delights; instead will I + recount to thee the things that really are. Lasting fame and true nobility + come not to mortals save through pain and labor. If thou, O Hercules, + seekest the gracious gifts of Heaven, thou must remain constant in prayer; + if thou wouldst be beloved of thy friends, thou must serve thy friends; if + thou desirest to be honored of the people thou must benefit the people; if + thou art anxious to reap the fruits of the earth, thou must till the earth + with labor; and if thou wishest to be strong in body and accomplish heroic + deeds, thou must teach thy body to obey thy mind. Yea, all this and more + also must thou do.” + </p> + <p> + “Seest thou not, O Hercules,” cried Vice, “over how difficult and tedious + a road this Virtue would drive thee? I, instead, will conduct thy steps by + a short and easy path to perfect Happiness.” + </p> + <p> + “Wretched being!” answered Virtue, “wouldst thou deceive this lad! What + lasting Happiness hast thou to offer! Thou pamperest thy followers with + riches, thou deludest them with idleness; thou surfeitest them with + luxury; thou enfeeblest them with softness. In youth they grow slothful in + body and weak in mind. They live without labor and wax fat. They come to a + wretched old age, dissatisfied, and ashamed, and oppressed by the memory + of their ill deeds; and, having run their course, they lay themselves down + in melancholy death and their name is remembered no more. + </p> + <p> + “But those fortunate youths who follow me receive other counsel. I am the + companion of virtuous men. Always I am welcome in the homes of artisans + and in the cottages of tillers of the soil. I am the guardian of + industrious households, and the rewarder of generous masters and faithful + servants. I am the promoter of the labors of peace. No honorable deed is + accomplished without me. + </p> + <p> + “My friends have sweet repose and the untroubled enjoyment of the fruits + of their efforts. They remember their deeds with an easy conscience and + contentment, and are beloved of their friends and honored by their + country. And when they have run their course, and death overtakes them, + their names are celebrated in song and praise, and they live in the hearts + of their grateful countrymen. + </p> + <p> + “Come, then, O Hercules, thou son of noble parents, come, follow thou me, + and by thy worthy and illustrious deeds secure for thyself exalted + Happiness.” + </p> + <p> + She ceased, and Hercules, withdrawing his gaze from the face of Vice, + arose from his place, and followed Virtue along the rugged, brown path of + Labor. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0080" id="link2H_4_0080"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SPEAKING STATUE + </h2> + <h3> + FROM GESTA ROMANORUM (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + There was once a great emperor who made a law that whosoever worked on the + birthday of his eldest son should be put to death. He caused this decree + to be published throughout his empire, and, sending for his chief + magician, said to him:— + </p> + <p> + “I wish you to devise an instrument which will tell me the name of each + laborer who breaks my new law.” + </p> + <p> + “Sire,” answered the magician, “your will shall be accomplished.” And he + straightway constructed a wonderful, speaking statue, and placed it in the + public square of the capital city. By its magic power this statue could + discern all that went on in the empire on the birthday of the eldest + prince, and it could tell the name of each laborer who worked in secret on + that day. Thus things continued for some years, and many men were put to + death. + </p> + <p> + Now, there was in the capital city a carpenter named Focus. He was a + diligent workman, laboring at his trade from early morning till late at + night. One year, when the prince's birthday came round, he continued to + work all that day. + </p> + <p> + The next morning he arose, dressed himself, and, before any one was astir + in the streets, went to the magic statue and said:— + </p> + <p> + “O statue, statue! because you have denounced so many of our citizens, + causing them to be put to death, I vow, if you accuse me, I will break + your head!” + </p> + <p> + Shortly after this the emperor dispatched messengers to the statue to + inquire if the law had been broken the day before. When the statue saw + them, it exclaimed:— + </p> + <p> + “Friends, look up! What see ye written on my forehead?” + </p> + <p> + They looked up and beheld three sentences that ran thus:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Times are altered! + “Men grow worse! + “He who speaks the truth will have his head broken!” + </pre> + <p> + “Go,” said the statue, “declare to His Majesty what ye have seen and + read.” + </p> + <p> + The messenger accordingly departed and returned in haste to the emperor, + and related to him all that had occurred. + </p> + <p> + The emperor ordered his guard to arm and to march instantly to the public + square, where the statue was, and commanded that if any one had attempted + to injure it, he should be seized, bound hand and foot, and dragged to the + judgment hall. + </p> + <p> + The guard hastened to do the emperor's bidding. They approached the statue + and said:— + </p> + <p> + “Our emperor commands you to tell who it is that threatened you.” + </p> + <p> + The statue answered: “Seize Focus the carpenter. Yesterday he defied the + emperor's edict; this morning he threatened to break my head.” + </p> + <p> + The soldiers immediately arrested Focus, and dragged him to the judgment + hall. + </p> + <p> + “Friend,” said the emperor, “what do I hear of you? Why do you work on my + son's birthday?” + </p> + <p> + “Your Majesty,” answered Focus, “it is impossible for me to keep your law. + I am obliged to earn eight pennies every day, therefore was I forced to + work yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “And why eight pennies?” asked the emperor. + </p> + <p> + “Every day through the year,” answered Focus, “I am bound to repay two + pennies I borrowed in my youth; two I lend; two I lose; and two I spend.” + </p> + <p> + “How is this?” said the emperor; “explain yourself further.” + </p> + <p> + “Your Majesty,” replied Focus, “listen to me. I am bound each day to repay + two pennies to my old father, for when I was a boy he expended upon me + daily the like sum. Now he is poor and needs my assistance, and I return + what I formerly borrowed. Two other pennies I lend my son, who is pursuing + his studies, in order that, if by chance I should fall into poverty, he + may restore the loan to me, just as I am now doing to his grandfather. + Again, I lose two pennies on my wife, who is a scold and has an evil + temper. On account of her bad disposition I consider whatever I give her + entirely lost. Lastly, two other pennies I spend on myself for meat and + drink. I cannot do all this without working every day. You now know the + truth, and, I pray you, give a righteous judgment.” + </p> + <p> + “Friend,” said the emperor, “you have answered well. Go and work + diligently at your calling.” + </p> + <p> + That same day the emperor annulled the law forbidding labor on his son's + birthday. Not long after this he died, and Focus the carpenter, on account + of his singular wisdom, was elected emperor in his stead. He governed + wisely, and after his death there was deposited in the royal archives a + portrait of Focus wearing a crown adorned with eight pennies. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0081" id="link2H_4_0081"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CHAMPION STONE-CUTTER + </h2> + <h3> + BY HUGH MILLER + </h3> + <p> + David Fraser was a famous Scotch hewer. On hearing that it had been + remarked among a party of Edinburgh masons that, though regarded as the + first of Glasgow stone-cutters, he would find in the eastern capital at + least his equals, he attired himself most uncouthly in a long-tailed coat + of tartan, and, looking to the life the untamed, untaught, conceited + little Celt, he presented himself on Monday morning, armed with a letter + of introduction from a Glasgow builder, before the foreman of an Edinburgh + squad of masons engaged upon one of the finer buildings at that time in + the course of erection. + </p> + <p> + The letter specified neither his qualifications nor his name. It had been + written merely to secure for him the necessary employment, and the + necessary employment it did secure. + </p> + <p> + The better workmen of the party were engaged, on his arrival, in hewing + columns, each of which was deemed sufficient work for a week; and David + was asked somewhat incredulously, by the foreman, if he could hew. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, HE THOUGHT he could hew.” + </p> + <p> + “Could he hew columns such as these?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, HE THOUGHT he could hew columns such as these.” + </p> + <p> + A mass of stone, in which a possible column lay hid, was accordingly + placed before David, not under cover of the shed, which was already + occupied by workmen, but, agreeably to David's own request, directly in + front of it, where he might be seen by all, and where he straightway + commenced a most extraordinary course of antics. + </p> + <p> + Buttoning his long tartan coat fast around him, he would first look along + the stone from the one end, anon from the other, and then examine it in + front and rear; or, quitting it altogether for the time, he would take up + his stand beside the other workmen, and, after looking at them with great + attention, return and give it a few taps with the mallet, in a style + evidently imitative of theirs, but monstrously a caricature. + </p> + <p> + The shed all that day resounded with roars of laughter; and the only + thoroughly grave man on the ground was he who occasioned the mirth of all + the others. + </p> + <p> + Next morning David again buttoned his coat; but he got on much better this + day than the former. He was less awkward and less idle, though not less + observant than before; and he succeeded ere evening in tracing, in + workmanlike fashion, a few draughts along the future column. He was + evidently greatly improving! + </p> + <p> + On the morning of Wednesday he threw off his coat; and it was seen that, + though by no means in a hurry, he was seriously at work. There were no + more jokes or laughter; and it was whispered in the evening that the + strange Highlander had made astonishing progress during the day. + </p> + <p> + By the middle of Thursday he had made up for his two days' trifling, and + was abreast of the other workmen. Before night he was far ahead of them; + and ere the evening of Friday, when they had still a full day's work on + each of their columns, David's was completed in a style that defied + criticism; and, his tartan coat again buttoned around him, he sat resting + himself beside it. + </p> + <p> + The foreman went out and greeted him. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “you have beaten us all. You certainly CAN hew!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said David, “I THOUGHT I could hew columns. Did the other men take + much more than a week to learn?” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, DAVID FRASER,” replied the foreman, “we all guess who you + are. You have had your week's joke out; and now, I suppose, we must give + you your week's wages, and let you go away!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said David, “work waits for me in Glasgow; but I just thought it + might be well to know how you hewed on this east side of the country.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0082" id="link2H_4_0082"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BILL BROWN'S TEST + </h2> + <h3> + BY CLEVELAND MOFFETT + </h3> + <p> + All firemen have courage, but it cannot be known until the test how many + have this particular kind,—Bill Brown's kind. + </p> + <p> + What happened was this: Engine 29, pumping and pounding her prettiest, + stood at the northwest corner of Greenwich and Warren streets, so close to + the blazing drug-house that Driver Marks thought it wasn't safe there for + the three horses, and led them away. That was fortunate, but it left Brown + alone, right against the cheek of the fire, watching his boiler, stoking + in coal, keeping his steam-gauge at 75. As the fire gained, chunks of + red-hot sandstone began to smash down on the engine. Brown ran his + pressure up to 80, and watched the door anxiously where the boys had gone + in. + </p> + <p> + Then the explosion came, and a blue flame, wide as a house, curled its + tongues halfway across the street, enwrapping engine and man, setting fire + to the elevated railway station overhead, or such wreck of it as the shock + had left. + </p> + <p> + Bill Brown stood by his engine, with a wall of fire before him and a sheet + of fire above him. He heard quick footsteps on the pavements, and voices, + that grew fainter and fainter, crying, “Run for your lives!” He heard the + hose-wagon horses somewhere back in the smoke go plunging away, mad with + fright and their burns. He was alone with the fire, and the skin was + hanging in shreds on his hands, face, and neck. Only a fireman knows how + one blast of flame can shrivel up a man, and the pain over the bared + surfaces was,—well, there is no pain worse than that of fire + scorching in upon the quick flesh seared by fire. + </p> + <p> + Here, I think, was a crisis to make a very brave man quail. Bill Brown + knew perfectly well why every one was running; there was going to be + another explosion in a couple of minutes, maybe sooner, out of this hell + in front of him. And the order had come for every man to save himself, and + every man had done it except the lads inside. And the question was, Should + he run or should he stay and die? It was tolerably certain that he would + die if he stayed. On the other hand, the boys of old 29 were in there. + Devanny and McArthur, and Gillon and Merron, his friends, his chums. He'd + seen them drag the hose in through that door,—there it was now, a + long, throbbing snake of it,—and they hadn't come out. Perhaps they + were dead. Yes, but perhaps they weren't. If they were alive, they needed + water now more than they ever needed anything before. And they couldn't + get water if he quit his engine. + </p> + <p> + Bill Brown pondered this a long time, perhaps four seconds; then he fell + to stoking in coal, and he screwed her up another notch, and he eased her + running parts with the oiler. Explosion or not, pain or not, alone or not, + he was going to stay and make that engine hum. He had done the greatest + thing a man can do,—had offered his life for his friends. + </p> + <p> + It is pleasant to know that this sacrifice was averted. A quarter of a + minute or so before the second and terrible explosion, Devanny and his men + came staggering from the building. Then it was that Merron fell, and + McArthur checked his fight to save him. Then it was, but not until then, + that Bill Brown left Engine 29 to her fate (she was crushed by the falling + walls), and ran for his life with his comrades. He had waited for them, he + had stood the great test. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0083" id="link2H_4_0083"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + COLUMBUS DAY + </h2> + <h3> + (OCTOBER 12) + </h3> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0084" id="link2H_4_0084"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + COLUMBUS AND THE EGG + </h2> + <h3> + BY JAMES BALDWIN (ADAPTED) <a href="#linknote-8" name="linknoteref-8" + id="linknoteref-8"><small>8</small></a> + </h3> + <p> + <a name="linknote-8" id="linknote-8"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 8 (<a href="#linknoteref-8">return</a>)<br /> [ From Thirty More Famous + Stories Retold. Copyright, 1903, by American Book Company.] + </p> + <p> + One day Columbus was at a dinner which a Spanish gentleman had given in + his honor, and several persons were present who were jealous of the great + admiral's success. They were proud, conceited fellows, and they very soon + began to try to make Columbus uncomfortable. + </p> + <p> + “You have discovered strange lands beyond the seas,” they said, “but what + of that? We do not see why there should be so much said about it. Anybody + can sail across the ocean; and anybody can coast along the islands on the + other side, just as you have done. It is the simplest thing in the world.” + </p> + <p> + Columbus made no answer; but after a while he took an egg from a dish and + said to the company:— + </p> + <p> + “Who among you, gentlemen, can make this egg stand on end?” + </p> + <p> + One by one those at the table tried the experiment. When the egg had gone + entirely around and none had succeeded, all said that it could not be + done. + </p> + <p> + Then Columbus took the egg and struck its small end gently upon the table + so as to break the shell a little. After that there was no trouble in + making it stand upright. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” said he, “what is easier than to do this which you said was + impossible? It is the simplest thing in the world. Anybody can do it,—AFTER + HE HAS BEEN SHOWN HOW!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0085" id="link2H_4_0085"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + COLUMBUS AT LA RABIDA + </h2> + <h3> + BY WASHINGTON IRVING (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + About half a league from the little seaport of Palos de Moguer, in + Andalusia, there stood, and continues to stand at the present day, an + ancient convent of Franciscan friars, dedicated to Santa Maria de Rabida. + </p> + <p> + One day a stranger on foot, in humble guise, but of a distinguished air, + accompanied by a small boy, stopped at the gate of the convent and asked + of the porter a little bread and water for his child. While receiving this + humble refreshment, the prior of the convent, Juan Perez de Marchena, + happened to pass by, and was struck with the appearance of the stranger. + Observing from his air and accent that he was a foreigner, he entered into + conversation with him and soon learned the particulars of his story. + </p> + <p> + That stranger was Columbus. + </p> + <p> + Accompanied by his little son Diego, he was on his way to the neighboring + town of Huelva, to seek a brother-in-law, who had married a sister of his + deceased wife. + </p> + <p> + The prior was a man of extensive information. His attention had been + turned in some measure to geographical and nautical science. He was + greatly interested by the conversation of Columbus, and struck with the + grandeur of his views. When he found, however, that the voyager was on the + point of abandoning Spain to seek the patronage of the court of France, + the good friar took the alarm. + </p> + <p> + He detained Columbus as his guest, and sent for a scientific friend to + converse with him. That friend was Garcia Fernandez, a physician of Palos. + He was equally struck with the appearance and conversation of the + stranger. Several conferences took place at the convent, at which veteran + mariners and pilots of Palos were present. + </p> + <p> + Facts were related by some of these navigators in support of the theory of + Columbus. In a word, his project was treated with a deference in the quiet + cloisters of La Rabida and among the seafaring men of Palos which had been + sought in vain among sages and philosophers. + </p> + <p> + Among the navigators of Palos was one Martin Alonzo Pinzon, the head of a + family of wealth, members of which were celebrated for their adventurous + expeditions. He was so convinced of the feasibility of Columbus's plan + that he offered to engage in it with purse and person, and to bear the + expenses of Columbus in an application to court. + </p> + <p> + Fray Juan Perez, being now fully persuaded of the importance of the + proposed enterprise, advised Columbus to repair to the court, and make his + propositions to the Spanish sovereigns, offering to give him a letter of + recommendation to his friend, the Prior of the Convent of Prado and + confessor to the queen, and a man of great political influence; through + whose means he would, without doubt, immediately obtain royal audience and + favor. Martin Alonzo Pinzon, also, generously furnished him with money for + the journey, and the Friar took charge of his youthful son, Diego, to + maintain and educate him in the convent. + </p> + <p> + Thus aided and encouraged and elated with fresh hopes, Columbus took leave + of the little junto at La Rabida, and set out, in the spring of 1486, for + the Castilian court, which had just assembled at Cordova, where the + sovereigns were fully occupied with their chivalrous enterprise for the + conquest of Granada. But alas! success was not yet! for Columbus met with + continued disappointments and discouragements, while his projects were + opposed by many eminent prelates and Spanish scientists, as being against + religion and unscientific. Yet in spite of this opposition, by degrees the + theory of Columbus began to obtain proselytes. He appeared in the presence + of the king with modesty, yet self-possession, inspired by a consciousness + of the dignity and importance of his errand; for he felt himself, as he + afterwards declared in his letters, animated as if by a sacred fire from + above, and considered himself an instrument in the hand of Heaven to + accomplish its great designs. For nearly seven years of apparently + fruitless solicitation, Columbus followed the royal court from place to + place, at times encouraged by the sovereigns, and at others neglected. + </p> + <p> + At last he looked round in search of some other source of patronage, and + feeling averse to subjecting himself to further tantalizing delays and + disappointments of the court, determined to repair to Paris. He departed, + therefore, and went to the Convent of La Rabida to seek his son Diego. + When the worthy Friar Juan Perez de Marchena beheld Columbus arrive once + more at the gate of his convent after nearly seven years of fruitless + effort at court, and saw by the humility of his garb the poverty he had + experienced, he was greatly moved; but when he found that he was about to + carry his proposition to another country, his patriotism took alarm. + </p> + <p> + The Friar had once been confessor to the queen, and knew that she was + always accessible to persons of his sacred calling. He therefore wrote a + letter to her, and at the same time entreated Columbus to remain at the + convent until an answer could be received. The latter was easily + persuaded, for he felt as if on leaving Spain he was again abandoning his + home. + </p> + <p> + The little council at La Rabida now cast round their eyes for an + ambassador to send on this momentous mission. They chose one Sebastian + Rodriguez, a pilot of Lepe, one of the most shrewd and important + personages in this maritime neighborhood. He so faithfully and + successfully conducted his embassy that he returned shortly with an + answer. + </p> + <p> + Isabella had always been favorably disposed to the proposition of + Columbus. She thanked Juan Perez for his timely services and requested him + to repair immediately to the court, leaving Columbus in confident hope + until he should hear further from her. This royal letter, brought back by + the pilot at the end of fourteen days, spread great joy in the little + junto at the convent. + </p> + <p> + No sooner did the warm-hearted friar receive it than he saddled his mule, + and departed, privately, before midnight to the court. He journeyed + through the countries of the Moors, and rode into the new city of Santa Fe + where Ferdinand and Isabella were engaged in besieging the capital of + Granada. + </p> + <p> + The sacred office of Juan Perez gained him a ready admission into the + presence of the queen. He pleaded the cause of Columbus with enthusiasm. + He told of his honorable motives, of his knowledge and experience, and his + perfect capacity to fulfill the undertaking. He showed the solid + principles upon which the enterprise was founded, and the advantage that + must attend its success, and the glory it must shed upon the Spanish + Crown. + </p> + <p> + Isabella, being warm and generous of nature and sanguine of disposition, + was moved by the representations of Juan Perez, and requested that + Columbus might be again sent to her. Bethinking herself of his poverty and + his humble plight, she ordered that money should be forwarded to him, + sufficient to bear his traveling expenses, and to furnish him with decent + raiment. + </p> + <p> + The worthy friar lost no time in communicating the result of his mission. + He transmitted the money, and a letter, by the hand of an inhabitant of + Palos, to the physician, Garcia Fernandez, who delivered them to Columbus + The latter immediately changed his threadbare garb for one more suited to + the sphere of a court, and purchasing a mule, set out again, reanimated by + hopes, for the camp before Granada. + </p> + <p> + This time, after some delay, his mission was attended with success. The + generous spirit of Isabella was enkindled, and it seemed as if the + subject, for the first time, broke upon her mind in all its real grandeur. + She declared her resolution to undertake the enterprise, but paused for a + moment, remembering that King Ferdinand looked coldly on the affair, and + that the royal treasury was absolutely drained by the war. + </p> + <p> + Her suspense was but momentary. With an enthusiasm worthy of herself and + of the cause, she exclaimed: “I undertake the enterprise for my own crown + of Castile, and will pledge my jewels to raise the necessary funds.” This + was the proudest moment in the life of Isabella. It stamped her renown + forever as the patroness of the discovery of the New World. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0086" id="link2H_4_0086"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE MUTINY + </h2> + <h3> + BY A. DE LAMARTINE (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + When Columbus left the Canaries to pass with his three small ships into + the unknown seas, the eruptions of Teneriffe illuminated the heavens and + were reflected in the sea. This cast terror into the minds of his seamen. + They thought that it was the flaming sword of the angel who expelled the + first man from Eden, and who now was trying to drive back in anger those + presumptuous ones who were seeking entrance to the forbidden and unknown + seas and lands. But the admiral passed from ship to ship explaining to his + men, in a simple way, the action of volcanoes, so that the sailors were no + longer afraid. + </p> + <p> + But as the peak of Teneriffe sank below the horizon, a great sadness fell + upon the men. It was their last beacon, the farthest sea-mark of the Old + World. They were seized with a nameless terror and loneliness. + </p> + <p> + Then the admiral called them around him in his own ship, and told them + many stories of the things they might hope to find in the wonderful new + world to which they were going,—of the lands, the islands, the seas, + the kingdoms, the riches, the vegetation, the sunshine, the mines of gold, + the sands covered with pearls, the mountains shining with precious stones, + the plains loaded with spices. These stories, tinged with the brilliant + colors of their leader's rich imagination, filled the discouraged sailors + with hope and good spirits. + </p> + <p> + But as they passed over the trackless ocean, and saw day by day the great + billows rolling between them and the mysterious horizon, the sailors were + again filled with dread. They lacked the courage to sail onward into the + unknown distance. The compass began to vacillate, and no longer pointed + toward the north; this confused both Columbus and his pilots. The men fell + into a panic, but the resolute and patient admiral encouraged them once + more. So buoyed up by his faith and hope, they continued to sail onwards + over the pathless waters. + </p> + <p> + The next day a heron and a tropical bird flew about the masts of the + ships, and these seemed to the wondering sailors as two witnesses come to + confirm the reasoning of Columbus. + </p> + <p> + The weather was mild and serene, the sky clear, the waves transparent, the + dolphins played across the bows, the airs were warm, and the perfumes, + which the waves brought from afar, seemed to exhale from their foam. The + brilliancy of the stars and the deep beauty of the night breathed a + feeling of calm security that comforted and sustained the sailors. + </p> + <p> + The sea also began to bring its messages. Unknown vegetations floated upon + its surface. Some were rock-plants, that had been swept off the cliffs by + the waves; some were fresh-water plants; and others, recently torn from + their roots, were still full of sap. One of them carried a live crab,—a + little sailor afloat on a tuft of grass. These plants and living things + could not have passed many days in the water without fading and dying. And + all encouraged the sailors to believe that they were nearing land. + </p> + <p> + At eve and morning the distant waning clouds, like those that gather round + the mountain-tops, took the form of cliffs and hills skirting the horizon. + The cry of “land” was on the tip of every tongue. But Columbus by his + reckoning knew that they must still be far from any land, but fearing to + discourage his men he kept his thoughts to himself, for he found no + trustworthy friend among his companions whose heart was firm enough to + bear his secret. + </p> + <p> + During the long passage Columbus conversed with his own thoughts, and with + the stars, and with God whom he felt was his protector. He occupied his + days in making notes of what he observed. The nights he passed on deck + with his pilots, studying the stars and watching the seas. He withdrew + into himself, and his thoughtful gravity impressed his companions + sometimes with respect and sometimes with mistrust and awe. + </p> + <p> + Each morning the bows of the vessels plunged through the fantastic horizon + which the evening mist had made the sailors mistake for a shore. They kept + rolling on through the boundless and bottomless abyss. Gradually terror + and discontent once more took possession of the crews. They began to + imagine that the steadfast east wind that drove them westward prevailed + eternally in this region, and that when the time came to sail homeward, + the same wind would prevent their return. For surely their provisions and + water could not hold out long enough for them to beat their way eastward + over those wide waters! + </p> + <p> + Then the sailors began to murmur against the admiral and his seeming + fruitless obstinacy, and they blamed themselves for obeying him, when it + might mean the sacrifice of the lives of one hundred and twenty sailors. + </p> + <p> + But each time the murmurs threatened to break out into mutiny, Providence + seemed to send more encouraging signs of land. And these for the time + being changed the complaints to hopes. At evening little birds of the most + delicate species, that build their nests in the shrubs of the garden and + orchard, hovered warbling about the masts. Their delicate wings and joyous + notes bore no signs of weariness or fright, as of birds swept far away to + sea by a storm. These signs again aroused hope. + </p> + <p> + The green weeds on the surface of the ocean looked like waving corn before + the ears are ripe. The vegetation beneath the water delighted the eyes of + the sailors tired of the endless expanse of blue. But the seaweed soon + became so thick that they were afraid of entangling their rudders and + keels, and of remaining prisoners forever in the forests of the ocean, as + ships of the northern seas are shut in by ice. Thus each joy soon turned + to fear,—so terrible to man is the unknown. + </p> + <p> + The wind ceased, the calms of the tropics alarmed the sailors. An immense + whale was seen sleeping on the waters. They fancied there were monsters in + the deep which would devour their ships. The roll of the waves drove them + upon currents which they could not stem for want of wind. They imagined + they were approaching the cataracts of the ocean, and that they were being + hurried toward the abysses into which the deluge had poured its world of + waters. + </p> + <p> + Fierce and angry faces crowded round the mast. The murmurs rose louder and + louder. They talked of compelling the pilots to put about and of throwing + the admiral into the sea. Columbus, to whom their looks and threats + revealed these plans, defied them by his bold bearing or disconcerted them + by his coolness. + </p> + <p> + Again nature came to his assistance, by giving him fresh breezes from the + east, and a calm sea under his bows. Before the close of the day came the + first cry of “Land ho!” from the lofty poop. All the crews, repeating this + cry of safety, life, and triumph, fell on their knees on the decks, and + struck up the hymn, “Glory be to God in heaven and upon earth.” When it + was over, all climbed as high as they could up the masts, yards, and + rigging to see with their own eyes the new land that had been sighted. + </p> + <p> + But the sunrise destroyed this new hope all too quickly. The imaginary + land disappeared with the morning mist, and once more the ships seemed to + be sailing over a never-ending wilderness of waters. + </p> + <p> + Despair took possession of the crews. Again the cry of “Land ho!” was + heard. But the sailors found as before that their hopes were but a passing + cloud. Nothing wearies the heart so much as false hopes and bitter + disappointments. + </p> + <p> + Loud reproaches against the admiral were heard from every quarter. Bread + and water were beginning to fail. Despair changed to fury. The men decided + to turn the heads of the vessels toward Europe, and to beat back against + the winds that had favored the admiral, whom they intended to chain to the + mast of his own vessel and to give up to the vengeance of Spain should + they ever reach the port of their own country. + </p> + <p> + These complaints now became clamorous. The admiral restrained them by the + calmness of his countenance. He called upon Heaven to decide between + himself and the sailors. He flinched not. He offered his life as a pledge, + if they would but trust and wait for three days more. He swore that, if, + in the course of the third day, land was not visible on the horizon, he + would yield to their wishes and steer for Europe. + </p> + <p> + The mutinous men reluctantly consented and allowed him three days of + grace. . . . . . . . . . . + </p> + <p> + At sunrise on the second day rushes recently torn up were seen floating + near the vessels. A plank hewn by an axe, a carved stick, a bough of + hawthorn in blossom, and lastly a bird's nest built on a branch which the + wind had broken, and full of eggs on which the parent-bird was sitting, + were seen swimming past on the waters. The sailors brought on board these + living witnesses of their approach to land. They were like a message from + the shore, confirming the promises of Columbus. + </p> + <p> + The overjoyed and repentant mutineers fell on their knees before the + admiral whom they had insulted but the day before, and craved pardon for + their mistrust. + </p> + <p> + As the day and night advanced many other sights and sounds showed that + land was very near. Toward day delicious and unknown perfumes borne on a + soft land breeze reached the vessels, and there was heard the roar of the + waves upon the reefs. + </p> + <p> + The dawn, as it spread over the sky, gradually raised the shores of an + island from the waves. Its distant extremities were lost in the morning + mist. As the sun rose it shone on the land ascending from a low yellow + beach to the summit of hills whose dark-green covering contrasted strongly + with the clear blue of the heavens. The foam of the waves broke on the + yellow sand, and forests of tall and unknown trees stretched away, one + above another, over successive terraces of the island. Green valleys, and + bright clefts in the hollows afforded a half glimpse into these mysterious + wilds. And thus the land of golden promises, the land of future greatness, + first appeared to Christopher Columbus, the Admiral of the Ocean, and thus + he gave a New World to the nations to come. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0087" id="link2H_4_0087"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE FIRST LANDING OF COLUMBUS IN THE NEW WORLD + </h2> + <h3> + BY WASHINGTON IRVING (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + It was on Friday morning, the 12th of October, that Columbus first beheld + the New World. As the day dawned he saw before him an island, several + leagues in extent, and covered with trees like a continual orchard. Though + apparently uncultivated it was populous, for the inhabitants were seen + issuing from all parts of the woods and running to the shore. They were + perfectly naked, and, as they stood gazing at the ships, appeared by their + attitudes and gestures to be lost in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + Columbus made signals for the ships to cast anchor and the boats to be + manned and armed. He entered his own boat, richly attired in scarlet, and + holding the royal standard; while Martin Alonzo Pinzon and his brother put + off in company in their boats, each with a banner of the enterprise + emblazoned with a green cross, having on either side the letters “F.” and + “Y.,” the initials of the Castilian monarchs Fernando and Ysabel, + surmounted by crowns. + </p> + <p> + As he approached the shore, Columbus was delighted with the purity and + suavity of the atmosphere, the crystal transparency of the sea, and the + extraordinary beauty of the vegetation. He beheld also fruits of an + unknown kind upon the trees which overhung the shores. + </p> + <p> + On landing he threw himself on his knees, kissed the earth, and returned + thanks to God with tears of joy. His example was followed by the rest. + “Almighty and Eternal God,” prayed Columbus, “who by the energy of Thy + creative word hast made the firmament, the earth and the sea; blessed and + glorified be thy name in all places! May thy majesty and dominion be + exalted for ever and ever, as Thou hast permitted thy holy name to be made + known and spread by the most humble of thy servants, in this hitherto + unknown portion of Thine empire.” + </p> + <p> + [Footnote: 9: This prayer is taken from Lamartine.] + </p> + <p> + Columbus, then rising, drew his sword, displayed the royal standard, and + assembling around him the two captains and the rest who had landed, he + took solemn possession in the name of the Castilian sovereigns, giving the + island the name of San Salvador. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0088" id="link2H_4_0088"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + HALLOWEEN + </h2> + <h3> + (OCTOBER 31) + </h3> + <p> + THE OLD WITCH BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM (TRANSLATED) + </p> + <p> + There was once a little girl who was very willful and who never obeyed + when her elders spoke to her; so how could she be happy? + </p> + <p> + One day she said to her parents: “I have heard so much of the old witch + that I will go and see her. People say she is a wonderful old woman, and + has many marvelous things in her house, and I am very curious to see + them.” + </p> + <p> + But her parents forbade her going, saying: “The witch is a wicked old + woman, who performs many godless deeds; and if you go near her, you are no + longer a child of ours.” + </p> + <p> + The girl, however, would not turn back at her parents' command, but went + to the witch's house. When she arrived there the old woman asked her:— + </p> + <p> + “Why are you so pale?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” she replied, trembling all over, “I have frightened myself so with + what I have just seen.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did you see?” inquired the old witch. + </p> + <p> + “I saw a black man on your steps.” + </p> + <p> + “That was a collier,” replied she. + </p> + <p> + “Then I saw a gray man.” + </p> + <p> + “That was a sportsman,” said the old woman. + </p> + <p> + “After him I saw a blood-red man.” + </p> + <p> + “That was a butcher,” replied the old woman. + </p> + <p> + “But, oh, I was most terrified,” continued the girl, “when I peeped + through your window, and saw not you, but a creature with a fiery head.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you have seen the witch in her proper dress,” said the old woman. + “For you I have long waited, and now you shall give me light.” + </p> + <p> + So saying the witch changed the little girl into a block of wood, and then + threw it on the fire; and when it was fully alight, she sat down on the + hearth and warmed herself, saying:— + </p> + <p> + “How good I feel! The fire has not burned like this for a long time!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0089" id="link2H_4_0089"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SHIPPEITARO + </h2> + <h3> + A JAPANESE FOLK-TALE: + </h3> + <p> + BY MARY F. NIXON-ROULET (ADAPTED) <a href="#linknote-10" + name="linknoteref-10" id="linknoteref-10"><small>10</small></a> <a + name="linknote-10" id="linknote-10"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 10 (<a href="#linknoteref-10">return</a>)<br /> [ From Japanese + Folk-Stories and Fairy Tales. Copyright, 1908, by American Book Company.] + </p> + <p> + Once upon a time there was a brave soldier lad who was seeking his fortune + in the wide, wide world. One day he lost his way in a pathless forest, and + wandered about until he came at length to a small clearing in the midst of + which stood a ruined temple. The huge trees waved above its walls, and the + leaves in the thicket whispered around them. No sun ever shone there, and + no human being lived there. + </p> + <p> + A storm was coming up, and the soldier lad took refuge among the ruins. + </p> + <p> + “Here is all I want,” said he. “Here I shall have shelter from the + storm-god's wrath, and a comfortable place to sleep in.” + </p> + <p> + So he wrapped himself in his cloak, and, lying down, was soon fast asleep. + But his slumbers did not last long. At midnight he was wakened by fearful + shrieks, and springing to his feet, he looked out at the temple door. + </p> + <p> + The storm was over. Moonlight shone on the clearing. And there he saw what + seemed to be a troop of monstrous cats, who like huge phantoms marched + across the open space in front of the temple. They broke into a wild + dance, uttering shrieks, howls, and wicked laughs. Then they all sang + together:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Whisper not to Shippeitaro + That the Phantom Cats are near; + Whisper not to Shippeitaro, + Lest he soon appear!” + </pre> + <p> + The soldier lad crouched low behind the door, for brave as he was he did + not wish these fearful creatures to see him. But soon, with a chorus of + wild yells, the Phantom Cats disappeared as quickly as they had come, and + all was quiet as before. + </p> + <p> + Then the soldier lad lay down and went to sleep again, nor did he waken + till the sun peered into the temple and told him that it was morning. He + quickly found his way out of the forest and walked on until he came to the + cottage of a peasant. + </p> + <p> + As he approached he heard sounds of bitter weeping. A beautiful young + maiden met him at the door, and her eyes were red with crying. She greeted + him kindly. + </p> + <p> + “May I have some food?” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Enter and welcome,” she replied. “My parents are just having breakfast. + You may join them, for no one passes our door hungry.” + </p> + <p> + Thanking her the lad entered, and her parents greeted him courteously but + sadly, and shared their breakfast with him. He ate heartily, and, when he + was finished, rose to go. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you many times for this good meal, kind friends,” said he, “and may + happiness be yours.” + </p> + <p> + “Happiness can never again be ours!” answered the old man, weeping. + </p> + <p> + “You are in trouble, then,” said the lad. “Tell me about it; perhaps I can + help you in some way.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” replied the old man, “There is within yonder forest a ruined + temple. It is the abode of horrors too terrible for words. Each year a + demon, whom no one has ever seen, demands that the people of this land + give him a beautiful maiden to devour. She is placed in a cage and carried + to the temple just at sunset. This year it is my daughter's turn to be + offered to the fiend!” And the old man buried his face in his hands and + groaned. + </p> + <p> + The soldier lad paused to think for a moment, then he said:— + </p> + <p> + “It is terrible, indeed! But do not despair. I think I know a way to help + you. Who is Shippeitaro?” + </p> + <p> + “Shippeitaro is a beautiful dog, owned by our lord, the prince,” answered + the old man. + </p> + <p> + “That is just the thing!” cried the lad. “Only keep your daughter closely + at home. Do not let her out of your sight. Trust me and she shall be + saved.” + </p> + <p> + Then the soldier lad hurried away, and found the castle of the prince. He + begged that he might borrow Shippeitaro just for one night. + </p> + <p> + “You may take him upon the condition that you bring him back safely,” said + the prince. + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow he shall return in safety,” answered the lad. + </p> + <p> + Taking Shippeitaro with him, he hurried to the peasant's cottage, and, + when evening was come, he placed the dog in the cage which was to have + carried the maiden. The bearers then took the cage to the ruined temple, + and, placing it on the ground, ran away as fast as their legs would carry + them. + </p> + <p> + The lad, laughing softly to himself, hid inside the temple as before, and + so quiet was the spot that he fell asleep. At midnight he was aroused by + the same wild shrieks he had heard the night before. He rose and looked + out at the temple door. + </p> + <p> + Through the darkness, into the moonlight, came the troop of Phantom Cats. + This time they were led by a fierce, black Tomcat. As they came nearer + they chanted with unearthly screeches:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Whisper not to Shippeitaro + That the Phantom Cats are near; + Whisper not to Shippeitaro, + Lest he soon appear!” + </pre> + <p> + With that the great Tomcat caught sight of the cage and, uttering a + fearful yowl, sprang upon it, With one blow of his claws he tore open the + lid, when, instead of the dainty morsel he expected, out jumped + Shippeitaro! + </p> + <p> + The dog sprang upon the Tomcat, and caught him by the throat; while the + Phantom Cats stood still in amazement. Drawing his sword the lad hurried + to Shippeitaro's side, and what with Shippeitaro's teeth and the lad's + hard blows, in an instant the great Tomcat was torn and cut into pieces. + When the Phantom Cats saw this, they uttered one wild shriek and fled + away, never to return again. + </p> + <p> + Then the soldier lad, leading Shippeitaro, returned in triumph to the + peasant's cottage. There in terror the maiden awaited his arrival, but + great was the joy of herself and her parents when they knew that the + Tomcat was no more. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir,” cried the maiden, “I can never thank you! I am the only child + of my parents, and no one would have been left to care for them if I had + been the monster's victim.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not thank me,” answered the lad. “Thank the brave Shippeitaro. It was + he who sprang upon the great Tomcat and chased away the Phantom + Creatures.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0090" id="link2H_4_0090"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + HANSEL AND GRETHEL + </h2> + <h3> + BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Hard-by a great forest dwelt a poor wood-cutter with his two children and + his wife who was their stepmother. The boy was called Hansel and the girl + Grethel. The wood-cutter had little to bite and to break, and once when a + great famine fell on the land he could no longer get daily bread. Now when + he thought over this by night in his bed, and tossed about in his trouble, + he groaned, and said to his wife:— + </p> + <p> + “What is to become of us? How are we to feed our poor children, when we no + longer have anything even for ourselves?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell you what, husband,” answered the woman; “early to-morrow + morning we will take the children out into the woods where it is the + thickest; there we will light a fire for them, and give each of them one + piece of bread more, and then we will go to our work and leave them alone. + They will not find the way home again, and we shall be rid of them.” + </p> + <p> + “No, wife,” said the man, “I will not do that; how can I bear to leave my + children alone in the woods?—the wild beasts would soon come and + tear them to pieces.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you fool!” said she. “Then we must all four die of hunger; you may as + well plane the planks for our coffins.” And she left him no peace until he + said he would do as she wished. + </p> + <p> + “But I feel very sorry for the poor children, all the same,” said the man. + </p> + <p> + The two children had also not been able to sleep for hunger, and had heard + what their father's wife had said to their father. + </p> + <p> + Grethel wept bitter tears, and said to Hansel, “Now all is over with us.” + </p> + <p> + “Be quiet, Grethel,” said Hansel, “do not be troubled; I will soon find a + way to help us.” + </p> + <p> + And when the old folks had fallen asleep, he got up, put on his little + coat, opened the door below, and crept outside. The moon shone brightly, + and the white pebbles which lay in front of the house shone like real + silver pennies. Hansel stooped and put as many of them in the little + pocket of his coat as he could make room for. Then he went back, and said + to Grethel, “Be at ease, dear little sister, and sleep in peace; God will + not forsake us.” And he lay down again in his bed. + </p> + <p> + When the day dawned, but before the sun had risen, the woman came and + awoke the two children, saying:— + </p> + <p> + “Get up, you lazy things! we are going into the forest to fetch wood.” She + gave each a little piece of bread, and said, “There is something for your + dinner, but do not eat it up before then, for you will get nothing else.” + </p> + <p> + Grethel took the bread under her apron, as Hansel had the stones in his + pocket. Then they all set out together on the way to the forest, and + Hansel threw one after another of the white pebble-stones out of his + pocket on the road. + </p> + <p> + When they had reached the middle of the forest, the father said, “Now, + children, pile up some wood and I will light a fire that you may not be + cold.” + </p> + <p> + Hansel and Grethel drew brushwood together till it was as high as a little + hill. + </p> + <p> + The brushwood was lighted, and when the flames were burning very high the + woman said:— + </p> + <p> + “Now, children, lie down by the fire and rest; we will go into the forest + and cut some wood. When we have done, we will come back and fetch you + away.” + </p> + <p> + Hansel and Grethel sat by the fire, and when noon came, each ate a little + piece of bread, and as they heard the strokes of the wood-axe they were + sure their father was near. But it was not the axe, it was a branch which + he had tied to a dry tree, and the wind was blowing it backward and + forward. As they had been sitting such a long time they were tired, their + eyes shut, and they fell fast asleep. When at last they awoke, it was dark + night. + </p> + <p> + Grethel began to cry, and said, “How are we to get out of the forest now?” + </p> + <p> + But Hansel comforted her, saying, “Just wait a little, until the moon has + risen, and then we will soon find the way.” + </p> + <p> + And when the full moon had risen, Hansel took his little sister by the + hand, and followed the pebbles, which shone like bright silver pieces, and + showed them the way. + </p> + <p> + They walked the whole night long, and by break of day came once more to + their father's house. + </p> + <p> + They knocked at the door, and when the woman opened it, and saw that it + was Hansel and Grethel, she said, “You naughty children, why have you + slept so long in the forest? we thought you were never coming back at + all!” + </p> + <p> + The father, however, was glad, for it had cut him to the heart to leave + them behind alone. + </p> + <p> + Not long after, there was once more a great lack of food in all parts, and + the children heard the woman saying at night to their father:— + </p> + <p> + “Everything is eaten again; we have one half-loaf left, and after that + there is an end. The children must go; we will take them farther into the + wood, so that they will not find their way out again; there is no other + means of saving ourselves!” + </p> + <p> + The man's heart was heavy, and he thought, “It would be better to share + our last mouthful with the children.” + </p> + <p> + The woman, however, would listen to nothing he had to say, but scolded + him. He who says A must say B, too, and as he had given way the first + time, he had to do so a second time also. + </p> + <p> + The children were still awake and had heard the talk. When the old folks + were asleep, Hansel again got up, and wanted to go and pick up pebbles, + but the woman had locked the door, and he could not get out. + </p> + <p> + So he comforted his little sister, and said:— + </p> + <p> + “Do not cry, Grethel; go to sleep quietly, the good God will help us.” + </p> + <p> + Early in the morning came the woman, and took the children out of their + beds. Their bit of bread was given to them, but it was still smaller than + the time before. On the way into the forest Hansel crumbled his in his + pocket, and often threw a morsel on the ground until little by little, he + had thrown all the crumbs on the path. + </p> + <p> + The woman led the children still deeper into the forest, where they had + never in their lives been before. Then a great fire was again made, and + she said:— + </p> + <p> + “Just sit there, you children, and when you are tired you may sleep a + little; we are going into the forest to cut wood, and in the evening when + we are done, we will come and fetch you away.” + </p> + <p> + When it was noon, Grethel shared her piece of bread with Hansel, who had + scattered his by the way. Then they fell asleep, and evening came and + went, but no one came to the poor children. + </p> + <p> + They did not awake until it was dark night, and Hansel comforted his + little sister, and said:— + </p> + <p> + “Just wait, Grethel, until the moon rises, and then we shall see the + crumbs of bread which I have scattered about; they will show us our way + home again.” + </p> + <p> + When the moon came they set out, but they found no crumbs, for the many + thousands of birds which fly about in the woods and fields had picked them + all up. + </p> + <p> + Hansel said to Grethel, “We shall soon find the way.” + </p> + <p> + But they did not find it. They walked the whole night and all the next + day, too, from morning till evening, but they did not get out of the + forest; they were very hungry, for they had nothing to eat but two or + three berries which grew on the ground. And as they were so tired that + their legs would carry them no longer, they lay down under a tree and fell + asleep. + </p> + <p> + It was now three mornings since they had left their father's house. They + began to walk again, but they always got deeper into the forest, and if + help did not come soon, they must die of hunger and weariness. When it was + midday, they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on a bough. It sang + so sweetly that they stood still and listened to it. And when it had done, + it spread its wings and flew away before them, and they followed it until + they reached a little house, on the roof of which it perched; and when + they came quite up to the little house, they saw it was built of bread and + covered with cakes, but that the windows were of clear sugar. + </p> + <p> + “We will set to work on that,” said Hansel, “and have a good meal. I will + eat a bit of the roof, and you, Grethel, can eat some of the window, it + will taste sweet.” + </p> + <p> + Hansel reached up, and broke off a little of the roof to try how it + tasted, and Grethel leaned against the window and nibbled at the panes. + </p> + <p> + Then a soft voice cried from the room,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Nibble, nibble, gnaw, + Who is nibbling at my little house?” + </pre> + <p> + The children answered:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The wind, the wind, + The wind from heaven”; +</pre> + <p> + and went on eating. Hansel, who thought the roof tasted very nice, tore + down a great piece of it; and Grethel pushed out the whole of one round + window-pane, sat down, and went to eating it. + </p> + <p> + All at once the door opened, and a very, very old woman, who leaned on + crutches, came creeping out. Hansel and Grethel were so scared that they + let fall what they had in their hands. + </p> + <p> + The old woman, however, nodded her head, and said, “Oh, you dear children, + who has brought you here? Do come in, and stay with me. No harm shall + happen to you.” + </p> + <p> + She took them both by the hand, and led them into her little house. Then + good food was set before them, milk and pancakes, with sugar, apples, and + nuts. Afterwards two pretty little beds were covered with clean white + linen, and Hansel and Grethel lay down in them, and thought they were in + heaven. + </p> + <p> + The old woman had only pretended to be so kind; she was in reality a + wicked witch, who lay in wait for children, and had built the little bread + house in order to coax them there. + </p> + <p> + Early in the morning, before the children were awake, she was already up, + and when she saw both of them sleeping and looking so pretty, with their + plump red cheeks, she muttered to herself, “That will be a dainty + mouthful!” + </p> + <p> + Then she seized Hansel, carried him into a little stable, and shut him in + behind a grated door. He might scream as he liked,—it was of no use. + Then she went to Grethel, shook her till she awoke and cried: “Get up, + lazy thing; fetch some water, and cook something good for your brother; he + is in the stable outside, and is to be made fat. When he is fat, I will + eat him.” + </p> + <p> + Grethel began to weep, but it was all in vain; she was forced to do what + the wicked witch told her. + </p> + <p> + And now the best food was cooked for poor Hansel, but Grethel got nothing + but crab-shells. + </p> + <p> + Every morning the woman crept to the little stable, and cried, “Hansel, + stretch out your finger that I may feel if you will soon be fat.” + </p> + <p> + Hansel, however, stretched out a little bone to her, and the old woman, + who had dim eyes, could not see it; she thought it was Hansel's finger, + and wondered why he grew no fatter. When four weeks had gone by, and + Hansel still was thin, she could wait no longer. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Grethel,” she cried to the girl, “fly round and bring some water. + Let Hansel be fat or lean, to-morrow I will kill him, and cook him.” + </p> + <p> + Ah, how sad was the poor little sister when she had to fetch the water, + and how her tears did flow down over her cheeks! + </p> + <p> + “Dear God, do help us,” she cried. “If the wild beasts in the forest had + but eaten us, we should at any rate have died together.” + </p> + <p> + “Just keep your noise to yourself,” said the old woman; “all that won't + help you at all.” + </p> + <p> + Early in the morning, Grethel had to go out and hang up the kettle with + the water, and light the fire. + </p> + <p> + “We will bake first,” said the old woman. “I have already heated the oven, + and got the dough ready.” + </p> + <p> + She pushed poor Grethel out to the oven, from which the flames of fire + were already darting. + </p> + <p> + “Creep in,” said the witch, “and see if it is heated, so that we can shut + the bread in.” And when once Grethel was inside, she meant to shut the + oven and let her bake in it, and then she would eat her, too. + </p> + <p> + But Grethel saw what she had in her mind, and said, “I do not know how I + am to do it; how do you get in?” + </p> + <p> + “Silly goose,” said the old woman. “The door is big enough; just look, I + can get in myself!” and she crept up and thrust her head into the oven. + Then Grethel gave her a push that drove her far into it, and shut the iron + door, tight. + </p> + <p> + Grethel ran as quick as lightning to Hansel, opened his little stable, and + cried, “Hansel, we are saved! The old witch is dead!” + </p> + <p> + Then Hansel sprang out like a bird from its cage when the door is opened + for it. How they did dance about and kiss each other. And as they had no + longer any need to fear her, they went into the witch's house, and in + every corner there stood chests full of pearls and jewels. + </p> + <p> + “These are far better than pebbles!” said Hansel, and filled his pockets, + and Grethel said, “I, too, will take something home with me,” and filled + her pinafore. + </p> + <p> + “But now we will go away,” said Hansel, “that we may get out of the + witch's forest.” When they had walked for two hours, they came to a great + piece of water. “We cannot get over,” said Hansel; “I see no foot-plank + and no bridge.” + </p> + <p> + “And no boat crosses, either,” answered Grethel, “but a white duck is + swimming there; if I ask her, she will help us over.” Then she cried,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Little duck, little duck, dost thou see, + Hansel and Grethel are waiting for thee? + There's never a plank or bridge in sight, + Take us across on thy back so white.” + </pre> + <p> + The duck came to them, and Hansel sat on its back, and told his sister to + sit by him. + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Grethel, “that will be too heavy for the little duck; she + shall take us across, one after the other.” + </p> + <p> + The good little duck did so, and when they were once safely across and had + walked for a short time, they knew where they were, and at last they saw + from afar their father's house. + </p> + <p> + Then they began to run, rushed in, and threw themselves into their + father's arms. The man had not known one happy hour since he had left the + children in the forest; the woman, however, was dead. Grethel emptied her + pinafore until pearls and precious stones rolled about the floor, and + Hansel threw one handful after another out of his pocket to add to them. + Then all care was at an end, and they lived happily together ever after. + </p> + <p> + My tale is done; there runs a mouse; whosoever catches it may make himself + a big fur cap out of it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0091" id="link2H_4_0091"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BURG HILL'S ON FIRE + </h2> + <h3> + A CELTIC FAIRY TALE + </h3> + <p> + BY ELIZABETH W. GRIERSON (ADAPTED) + </p> + <p> + Once upon a time there was a rich farmer who had a thrifty wife. She used + to go out and gather all the little bits of wool which she could find on + the hillsides, and bring them home. Then, after her family had gone to + bed, she would sit up and card the wool and spin it into yarn, then she + would weave the yarn into cloth to make garments for her children. + </p> + <p> + But all this work made her feel very tired, so that one night, sitting at + her loom, she laid down her shuttle and cried:— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that some one would come from far or near, from land or sea, to help + me!” + </p> + <p> + No sooner had the words left her lips than she heard some one knocking at + the door. + </p> + <p> + “Who is there?” cried she. + </p> + <p> + “Tell Quary, good housewife,” answered a wee, wee voice. “Open the door to + me. As long as I have you'll get.” + </p> + <p> + She opened the door and there on the threshold stood a queer, little + woman, dressed in a green gown and wearing a white cap on her head. + </p> + <p> + The good housewife was so astonished that she stood and stared at her + strange visitor; but without a word the little woman ran past her, and + seated herself at the spinning-wheel. + </p> + <p> + The good housewife shut the door, but just then she heard another knock. + </p> + <p> + “Who is there?” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Tell Quary, good housewife. Open the door to me,” said another wee, wee + voice. “As long as I have you'll get.” + </p> + <p> + And when she opened the door there was another queer, little woman, in a + lilac frock and a green cap, standing on the threshold. + </p> + <p> + She, too, ran into the house without waiting to say, “By your leave,” and + picking up the distaff, began to put some wool on it. + </p> + <p> + Then before the housewife could get the door shut, a funny little manikin, + with green trousers and a red cap, came running in, and followed the tiny + women into the kitchen, seized hold of a handful of wool, and began to + card it. Another wee, wee woman followed him, and then another tiny + manikin, and another, and another, until it seemed to the good housewife + that all the fairies and pixies in Scotland were coming into her house. + </p> + <p> + The kitchen was alive with them. Some of them hung the great pot over the + fire to boil water to wash the wool that was dirty. Some teased the clean + wool, and some carded it. Some spun it into yarn, and some wove the yarn + into great webs of cloth. + </p> + <p> + And the noise they made was like to make her head run round. “Splash! + splash! Whirr! whirr! Clack! clack!” The water in the pot bubbled over. + The spinning-wheel whirred. The shuttle in the loom flew backwards and + forwards. + </p> + <p> + And the worst of it was that all the Fairies cried out for something to + eat, and although the good housewife put on her griddle and baked bannocks + as fast as she could, the bannocks were eaten up the moment they were + taken off the fire, and yet the Fairies shouted for more. + </p> + <p> + At last the poor woman was so troubled that she went into the next room to + wake her husband. But although she shook him with all her might, she could + not wake him. It was very plain to see that he was bewitched. + </p> + <p> + Frightened almost out of her senses, and leaving the Fairies eating her + last batch of bannocks, she stole out of the house and ran as fast as she + could to the cottage of the Wise Man who lived a mile away. + </p> + <p> + She knocked at his door till he got up and put his head out of the window, + to see who was there; then she told him the whole story. + </p> + <p> + “Thou foolish woman,” said he, “let this be a lesson to thee never to pray + for things thou dost not need! Before thy husband can be loosed from the + spell the Fairies must be got out of the house and the fulling-water, + which they have boiled, must be thrown over him. Hurry to the little hill + that lies behind thy cottage, climb to the top of it, and set the bushes + on fire; then thou must shout three times: 'BURG HILL'S ON FIRE!' Then + will all the little Fairies run out to see if this be true, for they live + under the hill. When they are all out of the cottage, do thou slip in as + quickly as thou canst, and turn the kitchen upside down. Upset everything + the Fairies have worked with, else the things their fingers have touched + will open the door to them, and let them in, in spite of thee.” + </p> + <p> + So the good housewife hurried away. She climbed to the top of the little + hill back of her cottage, set the bushes on fire, and cried out three + times as loud as she was able: “BURG HILL'S ON FIRE!” + </p> + <p> + And sure enough, the door of the cottage was flung wide open, and all the + little Fairies came running out, knocking each other over in their + eagerness to be first at the hill. + </p> + <p> + In the confusion the good housewife slipped away, and ran as fast as she + could to her cottage; and when she was once inside, it did not take her + long to bar the door, and turn everything upside down. + </p> + <p> + She took the band off the spinning-wheel, and twisted the head of the + distaff the wrong way. She lifted the pot of fulling-water off the fire, + and turned the room topsy-turvy, and threw down the carding-combs. + </p> + <p> + Scarcely had she done so, when the Fairies returned, and knocked at the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Good housewife! let us in,” they cried. + </p> + <p> + “The door is shut and bolted, and I will not open it,” answered she. + </p> + <p> + “Good spinning-wheel, get up and open the door,” they cried. + </p> + <p> + “How can I,” answered the spinning-wheel, “seeing that my band is undone?” + </p> + <p> + “Kind distaff, open the door for us,” said they. + </p> + <p> + “That would I gladly do,” said the distaff, “but I cannot walk, for my + head is turned the wrong way.” + </p> + <p> + “Weaving-loom, have pity, and open the door.” + </p> + <p> + “I am all topsy-turvy, and cannot move,” sighed the loom. + </p> + <p> + “Fulling-water, open the door,” they implored. + </p> + <p> + “I am off the fire,” growled the fulling-water, “and all my strength is + gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Is there nothing that will come to our aid, and open the door?” they + cried. + </p> + <p> + “I will,” said a little barley-bannock, that had lain hidden, toasting on + the hearth; and it rose and trundled like a wheel quickly across the + floor. + </p> + <p> + But luckily the housewife saw it, and she nipped it between her finger and + thumb, and, because it was only half-baked, it fell with a “splatch” on + the cold floor. + </p> + <p> + Then the Fairies gave up trying to get into the kitchen, and instead they + climbed up by the windows into the room where the good housewife's husband + was sleeping, and they swarmed upon his bed and tickled him until he + tossed about and muttered as if he had a fever. + </p> + <p> + Then all of a sudden the good housewife remembered what the Wise Man had + said about the fulling-water. She ran to the kitchen and lifted a cupful + out of the pot, and carried it in, and threw it over the bed where her + husband was. + </p> + <p> + In an instant he woke up in his right senses. Then he jumped out of bed, + ran across the room and opened the door, and the Fairies vanished. And + they have never been seen from that day to this. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0092" id="link2H_4_0092"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE KING OF THE CATS + </h2> + <h3> + AN ENGLISH FOLK-TALE + </h3> + <p> + BY ERNEST RHYS + </p> + <p> + Once upon a time there were two brothers who lived in a lonely house in a + very lonely part of Scotland. An old woman used to do the cooking, and + there was no one else, unless we count her cat and their own dogs, within + miles of them. + </p> + <p> + One autumn afternoon the elder of the two, whom we will call Elshender, + said he would not go out; so the younger one, Fergus, went alone to follow + the path where they had been shooting the day before, far across the + mountains. + </p> + <p> + He meant to return home before the early sunset; however, he did not do + so, and Elshender became very uneasy as he watched and waited in vain till + long after their usual supper-time. At last Fergus returned, wet and + exhausted, nor did he explain why he was so late. + </p> + <p> + But after supper when the two brothers were seated before the fire, on + which the peat crackled cheerfully, the dogs lying at their feet, and the + old woman's black cat sitting gravely with half-shut eyes on the hearth + between them, Fergus recovered himself and began to tell his adventures. + </p> + <p> + “You must be wondering,” said he, “what made me so late. I have had a + very, very strange adventure to-day. I hardly know what to say about it. I + went, as I told you I should, along our yesterday's track. A mountain fog + came on just as I was about to turn homewards, and I completely lost my + way. I wandered about for a long time not knowing where I was, till at + last I saw a light, and made for it, hoping to get help. + </p> + <p> + “As I came near it, it disappeared, and I found myself close to an old oak + tree. I climbed into the branches the better to look for the light, and, + behold! there it was right beneath me, inside the hollow trunk of the + tree. I seemed to be looking down into a church, where a funeral was + taking place. I heard singing, and saw a coffin surrounded by torches, all + carried by—But I know you won't believe me, Elshender, if I tell + you!” + </p> + <p> + His brother eagerly begged him to go on, and threw a dry peat on the fire + to encourage him. The dogs were sleeping quietly, but the cat was sitting + up, and seemed to be listening just as carefully and cannily as Elshender + himself. Both brothers, indeed, turned their eyes on the cat as Fergus + took up his story. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he continued, “it is as true as I sit here. The coffin and the + torches were both carried by CATS, and upon the coffin were marked a crown + and a scepter!” + </p> + <p> + He got no farther, for the black cat started up, shrieking:— + </p> + <p> + “My stars! old Peter's dead, and I'm the King o' the Cats!”—Then + rushed up the chimney, and was seen no more. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0093" id="link2H_4_0093"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE STRANGE VISITOR + </h2> + <h3> + AN ENGLISH FOLK-TALE + </h3> + <p> + BY JOSEPH JACOBS + </p> + <p> + A woman was sitting at her reel one night; and still she sat, and still + she reeled, and still she wished for company. + </p> + <p> + In came a pair of broad, broad soles, and sat down at the fireside! + </p> + <p> + And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company. + </p> + <p> + In came a pair of small, small legs, and sat down on the broad, broad + soles! + </p> + <p> + And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company. + </p> + <p> + In came a pair of thick, thick knees, and sat down on the small, small + legs! + </p> + <p> + And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company. + </p> + <p> + In came a pair of thin, thin thighs, and sat down on the thick, thick + knees! + </p> + <p> + And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company. + </p> + <p> + In came a pair of huge, huge hips, and sat down on the thin, thin thighs! + </p> + <p> + And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company. + </p> + <p> + In came a wee, wee waist, and sat down on the huge, huge hips! + </p> + <p> + And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company. + </p> + <p> + In came a pair of broad, broad shoulders, and sat down on the wee, wee + waist! + </p> + <p> + And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company. + </p> + <p> + In came a pair of small, small arms, and sat down on the broad, broad + shoulders! + </p> + <p> + And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company. + </p> + <p> + In came a pair of huge, huge hands, and sat down on the small, small arms! + </p> + <p> + And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company. + </p> + <p> + In came a small, small neck, and sat down on the broad, broad shoulders! + </p> + <p> + And still she sat, and still she reeled, and still she wished for company. + </p> + <p> + In came a huge, huge head, and sat down on the small, small neck! + </p> + <p> + . . . . . . . . . + </p> + <p> + “How did you get such broad, broad feet?” quoth the Woman. “Much tramping, + much tramping!” (GRUFFLY.) + </p> + <p> + “How did you get such small, small legs?” “AIH-H-H!—late—and + WEE-E-E-moul!” (WHININGLY.) + </p> + <p> + “How did you get such thick, thick knees?” “Much praying, much praying!” + (PIOUSLY.) + </p> + <p> + “How did you get such thin, thin thighs?” “Aih-h-h!—late—and + wee-e-e-moul!” (WHININGLY.) + </p> + <p> + “How did you get such big, big hips?” “Much sitting, much sitting!” + (GRUFFLY.) + </p> + <p> + “How did you get such a wee, wee waist?” “Aih-h-h!—late—and + wee-e-e-moul!” (WHININGLY.) + </p> + <p> + “How did you get such broad, broad shoulders?” “With carrying broom, with + carrying broom!” (GRUFFLY.) + </p> + <p> + “How did you get such small arms?” “Aih-h-h!—late—and + wee-e-e-moul!” (WHININGLY.) + </p> + <p> + “How did you get such huge, huge hands?” “Threshing with an iron flail! + Threshing with an iron flail!” (GRUFFLY.) + </p> + <p> + “How did you get such a small, small neck?” “Aih-h-h!—late—and + wee-e-e-moul!” (PITIFULLY.) + </p> + <p> + “How did you get such a huge, huge head?” “Much knowledge, much + knowledge!” (KEENLY.) + </p> + <p> + “What do you come for?” “FOR YOU!!!” (AT THE TOP OF THE VOICE, WITH A WAVE + OF THE ARMS AND A STAMP OF THE FEET.) + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0094" id="link2H_4_0094"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE BENEVOLENT GOBLIN + </h2> + <h3> + FROM GESTA ROMANORUM (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + In the kingdom of England there is a hillock in the midst of a dense wood. + Thither in old days knights and their followers were wont to repair when + tired and thirsty after the chase. When one of their number called out, “I + thirst!” there immediately started up a Goblin with a cheerful + countenance, clad in a crimson robe, and bearing in his outstretched hand + a large drinking-horn richly ornamented with gold and precious jewels, and + full of the most delicious, unknown beverage. + </p> + <p> + The Goblin presented the horn to the thirsty knight, who drank and + instantly felt refreshed and cool. After the drinker had emptied the horn, + the Goblin offered a silken napkin to wipe the mouth. Then, without + waiting to be thanked, the strange creature vanished as suddenly as he had + come. + </p> + <p> + Now once there was a knight of churlish nature, who was hunting alone in + those parts. Feeling thirsty and fatigued, he visited the hillock and + cried out:— + </p> + <p> + “I thirst!” + </p> + <p> + Instantly the Goblin appeared and presented the horn. + </p> + <p> + When the knight had drained it of its delicious beverage, instead of + returning the horn, he thrust it into his bosom, and rode hastily away. + </p> + <p> + He boasted far and wide of his deed, and his feudal lord hearing thereof + caused him to be bound and cast into prison; then fearing lest he, too, + might become partaker in the theft and ingratitude of the knight, the lord + presented the jeweled horn to the King of England, who carefully preserved + it among the royal treasures. But never again did the benevolent Goblin + return to the hillock in the wood. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0095" id="link2H_4_0095"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PHANTOM KNIGHT OF THE VANDAL CAMP + </h2> + <h3> + FROM GESTA ROMANORUM (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + There was once in Great Britain, a knight named Albert, strong in arms and + adorned with every virtue. One day as he was seeking for adventure, he + chanced to wander into a castle where he was hospitably entertained. + </p> + <p> + At night, after supper, as was usual in great families during the winter, + the household gathered about the hearth and occupied the time in relating + divers tales. + </p> + <p> + At last they told how in the near-by plain of Wandlesbury there was a + haunted mound. There in old days the Vandals, who laid waste the land and + slaughtered Christians, had pitched their camp and built about it a great + rampart. And it was further related that in the hush of the night, if any + one crossed the plain, ascended the mound, and called out in a loud voice, + “Let my adversary appear!” there immediately started up from the ruined + ramparts a huge, ghostly figure, armed and mounted for battle. This + phantom then attacked the knight who had cried out and speedily overcame + him. + </p> + <p> + Now, when Albert heard this marvelous tale, he greatly doubted its truth, + and was determined to put the matter to a test. As the moon was shining + brightly, and the night was quiet, he armed, mounted, and immediately + hastened to the plain of Wandlesbury, accompanied by a squire of noble + blood. + </p> + <p> + He ascended the mound, dismissed his attendant, and shouted:— + </p> + <p> + “Let my adversary appear!” + </p> + <p> + Instantly there sprang from the ruins a huge, ghostly knight completely + armed and mounted on an enormous steed. + </p> + <p> + This phantom rushed upon Albert, who spurred his horse, extended his + shield, and drove at his antagonist with his lance. Both knights were + shaken by the encounter. Albert, however, so resolutely and with so strong + an arm pressed his adversary that the latter was thrown violently to the + ground. Seeing this Albert hastily seized the steed of the fallen knight, + and started to leave the mound. + </p> + <p> + But the phantom, rising to his feet, and seeing his horse led away, flung + his lance and cruelly wounded Albert in the thigh. This done he vanished + as suddenly as he had appeared. + </p> + <p> + Our knight, overjoyed at his victory, returned in triumph to the castle, + where the household crowded around him and praised his bravery. But when + he put off his armor he found the cuish from his right thigh filled with + clots of blood from an angry wound in his side. The family, alarmed, + hastened to apply healing herbs and bandages. + </p> + <p> + The captured horse was then brought forward. He was prodigiously large, + and black as jet. His eyes were fierce and flashing, his neck proudly + arched, and he wore a glittering war-saddle upon his back. + </p> + <p> + As the first streaks of dawn began to appear, the animal reared wildly, + snorted as if with pain and anger, and struck the ground so furiously with + his hoofs that the sparks flew. The black cock of the castle crew and the + horse, uttering a terrible cry, instantly disappeared. + </p> + <p> + And every year, on the selfsame night, at the selfsame hour, the wounds of + the knight Albert broke out afresh, and tormented him with agony. Thus + till his dying day he bore in his body a yearly reminder of his encounter + with the Phantom Knight of the Vandal Camp. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0096" id="link2H_4_0096"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THANKSGIVING DAY + </h2> + <h3> + (LAST THURSDAY IN NOVEMBER) + </h3> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0097" id="link2H_4_0097"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE FIRST HARVEST-HOME IN PLYMOUTH + </h2> + <h3> + BY W. DE LOSS LOVE, JR (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + After prayer and fasting and a farewell feast, the Pilgrim Fathers left + the City of Leyden, and sought the new and unknown land. “So they lefte ye + goodly & pleasante citie,” writes their historian Bradford, “which had + been ther resting place near 12 years, but they knew they were pilgrimes + & looked not much on those things, but lift up their eyes to ye + Heavens their dearest cuntrie, and quieted their spirits.” + </p> + <p> + When, after many vexing days upon the deep, the pilgrims first sighted the + New World, they were filled with praise and thanksgiving. Going ashore + they fell upon their knees and blessed the God of Heaven. And after that, + whenever they were delivered from accidents or despair, they gave God + “solemne thanks and praise.” Such were the Pilgrims and such their habit + day by day. + </p> + <p> + The first winter in the New World was marked by great suffering and want. + Hunger and illness thinned the little colony, and caused many graves to be + made on the near-by hillside. + </p> + <p> + The spring of 1621 opened. The seed was sown in the fields. The colonists + cared for it without ceasing, and watched its growth with anxiety; for + well they knew that their lives depended upon a full harvest. + </p> + <p> + The days of spring and summer flew by, and the autumn came. Never in + Holland or England had the Pilgrims seen the like of the treasures + bounteous Nature now spread before them. The woodlands were arrayed in + gorgeous colors, brown, crimson, and gold, and swarmed with game of all + kinds, that had been concealed during the summer. The little farm-plots + had been blessed by the sunshine and showers, and now plentiful crops + stood ready for the gathering. The Pilgrims, rejoicing, reaped the fruit + of their labors, and housed it carefully for the winter. Then, filled with + the spirit of thanksgiving, they held the first harvest-home in New + England. + </p> + <p> + For one whole week they rested from work, feasted, exercised their arms, + and enjoyed various recreations. Many Indians visited the colony, amongst + these their greatest king, Massasoit, with ninety of his braves. The + Pilgrims entertained them for three days. And the Indians went out into + the woods and killed fine deer, which they brought to the colony and + presented to the governor and the captain and others. So all made merry + together. + </p> + <p> + And bountiful was the feast. Oysters, fish and wild turkey, Indian maize + and barley bread, geese and ducks, venison and other savory meats, decked + the board. Kettles, skillets, and spits were overworked, while knives and + spoons, kindly assisted by fingers, made merry music on pewter plates. + Wild grapes, “very sweete and strong,” added zest to the feast. As to the + vegetables, why, the good governor describes them thus:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “All sorts of grain which our own land doth yield, + Was hither brought, and sown in every field; + As wheat and rye, barley, oats, beans, and pease + Here all thrive and they profit from them raise; + All sorts of roots and herbs in gardens grow,— + Parsnips, carrots, turnips, or what you'll sow, + Onions, melons, cucumbers, radishes, + Skirets, beets, coleworts and fair cabbages.” + </pre> + <p> + Thus a royal feast it was the Pilgrims spread that first golden autumn at + Plymouth, a feast worthy of their Indian guests. + </p> + <p> + All slumbering discontents they smothered with common rejoicings. When the + holiday was over, they were surely better, braver men because they had + turned aside to rest awhile and be thankful together. So the exiles of + Leyden claimed the harvests of New England. + </p> + <p> + This festival was the bursting into life of a new conception of man's + dependence on God's gifts in Nature. It was the promise of autumnal + Thanksgivings to come. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0098" id="link2H_4_0098"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE MASTER OF THE HARVEST + </h2> + <h3> + BY MRS. ALFRED GATTY (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + The Master of the Harvest walked by the side of his cornfields in the + springtime. A frown was on his face, for there had been no rain for + several weeks, and the earth was hard from the parching of the east winds. + The young wheat had not been able to spring up. + </p> + <p> + So as he looked over the long ridges that stretched in rows before him, he + was vexed and began to grumble and say:— + </p> + <p> + “The harvest will be backward, and all things will go wrong.” + </p> + <p> + Then he frowned more and more, and uttered complaints against Heaven + because there was no rain; against the earth because it was so dry; + against the corn because it had not sprung up. + </p> + <p> + And the Master's discontent was whispered all over the field, and along + the ridges where the corn-seed lay. And the poor little seeds murmured:— + </p> + <p> + “How cruel to complain! Are we not doing our best? Have we let one drop of + moisture pass by unused? Are we not striving every day to be ready for the + hour of breaking forth? Are we idle? How cruel to complain!” + </p> + <p> + But of all this the Master of the Harvest heard nothing, so the gloom did + not pass from his face. Going to his comfortable home he repeated to his + wife the dark words, that the drought would ruin the harvest, for the corn + was not yet sprung up. + </p> + <p> + Then his wife spoke cheering words, and taking her Bible she wrote some + texts upon the flyleaf, and after them the date of the day. + </p> + <p> + And the words she wrote were these: “The eyes of all wait upon Thee; and + Thou givest them their meat in due season. Thou openest Thine hand and + satisfiest the desire of every living thing. How excellent is Thy + loving-kindness, O God! therefore the children of men put their trust + under the shadow of Thy wings. Thou hast put gladness in my heart, more + than in the time that their corn and their wine increased.” + </p> + <p> + And so a few days passed as before, and the house was gloomy with the + discontent of the Master. But at last one evening there was rain all over + the land, and when the Master of the Harvest went out the next morning for + his early walk by the cornfields, the corn had sprung up at last. + </p> + <p> + The young shoots burst out at once, and very soon all along the ridges + were to be seen rows of tender blades, tinting the whole field with a + delicate green. And day by day the Master of the Harvest saw them, and was + satisfied, but he spoke of other things and forgot to rejoice. + </p> + <p> + Then a murmur rose among the corn-blades. + </p> + <p> + “The Master was angry because we did not come up; now that we have come + forth why is he not glad? Are we not doing our best? From morning and + evening dews, from the glow of the sun, from the juices of the earth, from + the freshening breezes, even from clouds and rain, are we not taking food + and strength, warmth and life? Why does he not rejoice?” + </p> + <p> + And when the Master's wife asked him if the wheat was doing well he + answered, “Fairly well,” and nothing more. + </p> + <p> + But the wife opened her Book, and wrote again on the flyleaf: “Who hath + divided a watercourse for the overflowing of waters, or a way for the + lightning of thunder, to cause it to rain on the earth where no man is, on + the wilderness wherein there is no man, to satisfy the desolate and waste + ground, and to cause the bud of the tender herb to spring forth? For He + maketh small the drops of water; they pour down rain according to the + vapor thereof, which the clouds do drop and distil upon man abundantly. + Also can any understand the spreadings of the clouds, or the noise of his + tabernacle?” + </p> + <p> + Very peaceful were the next few weeks. All nature seemed to rejoice in the + fine weather. The corn-blades shot up strong and tall. They burst into + flowers and gradually ripened into ears of grain. But alas! the Master of + the Harvest had still some fault to find. He looked at the ears and saw + that they were small. He grumbled and said:— + </p> + <p> + “The yield will be less than it ought to be. The harvest will be bad.” + </p> + <p> + And the voice of his discontent was breathed over the cornfield where the + plants were growing and growing. They shuddered and murmured: “How + thankless to complain! Are we not growing as fast as we can? If we were + idle would we bear wheat-ears at all? How thankless to complain!” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile a few weeks went by and a drought settled on the land. Rain was + needed, so that the corn-ears might fill. And behold, while the wish for + rain was yet on the Master's lips, the sky became full of heavy clouds, + darkness spread over the land, a wild wind arose, and the roaring of + thunder announced a storm. And such a storm! Along the ridges of + corn-plants drove the rain-laden wind, and the plants bent down before it + and rose again like the waves of the sea. They bowed down and they rose + up. Only where the whirlwind was the strongest they fell to the ground and + could not rise again. + </p> + <p> + And when the storm was over, the Master of the Harvest saw here and there + patches of over-weighted corn, yet dripping from the thunder-shower, and + he grew angry with them, and forgot to think of the long ridges where the + corn-plants were still standing tall and strong, and where the corn-ears + were swelling and rejoicing. + </p> + <p> + His face grew darker than ever. He railed against the rain. He railed + against the sun because it did not shine. He blamed the wheat because it + might perish before the harvest. + </p> + <p> + “But why does he always complain?” moaned the corn-plants. “Have we not + done our best from the first? Has not God's blessing been with us? Are we + not growing daily more beautiful in strength and hope? Why does not the + Master trust, as we do, in the future richness of the harvest?” + </p> + <p> + Of all this the Master of the Harvest heard nothing. But his wife wrote on + the flyleaf of her Book: “He watereth the hills from his chambers, the + earth is satisfied with the fruit of thy works. He causeth the grass to + grow for the cattle and herb for the service of man, that he may bring + forth food out of the earth, and wine that maketh glad the heart of man, + and oil to make his face to shine, and bread which strengtheneth man's + heart.” + </p> + <p> + And day by day the hours of sunshine were more in number. And by degrees + the green corn-ears ripened into yellow, and the yellow turned into gold, + and the abundant harvest was ready, and the laborers were not wanting. + </p> + <p> + Then the bursting corn broke out into songs of rejoicing. “At least we + have not labored and watched in vain! Surely the earth hath yielded her + increase! Blessed be the Lord who daily loadeth us with benefits! Where + now is the Master of the Harvest? Come, let him rejoice with us!” + </p> + <p> + And the Master's wife brought out her Book and her husband read the texts + she had written even from the day when the corn-seeds were held back by + the first drought, and as he read a new heart seemed to grow within him, a + heart that was thankful to the Lord of the Great Harvest. And he read + aloud from the Book:— + </p> + <p> + “Thou visitest the earth and waterest it; thou greatly enrichest it with + the river of God which is full of water; thou preparest them corn, when + thou hast so provided for it. Thou waterest the ridges thereof abundantly; + thou settlest the furrows thereof; thou makest it soft with showers; thou + blessest the springing thereof. Thou crownest the year with thy goodness, + and thy paths drop fatness. They drop upon the pastures of the wilderness, + and the little hills rejoice on every side. The pastures are clothed with + flocks. The valleys also are covered over with corn; they shout for joy, + they also sing.—O that men would praise the Lord for His goodness, + and for his wonderful works to the children of men!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0099" id="link2H_4_0099"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SAINT CUTHBERT'S EAGLE + </h2> + <h3> + BY THE VENERABLE BEDE (ADAPED) + </h3> + <p> + Once upon a time, the good Saint Cuthbert of Lindesfarne, went forth from + his monastery to preach to the poor. He took with him a young lad as his + only attendant. Together they walked along the dusty way. The heat of the + noonday sun beat upon their heads, and fatigue overcame them. + </p> + <p> + “Son,” said Saint Cuthbert, “do you know any one on the road, whom we may + ask for food and a place in which to rest?” + </p> + <p> + “I was just thinking the same thing,” answered the lad, “but I know nobody + on the road who will entertain us. Alas! why did we not bring along + provisions? How can we proceed on our long journey without them?” + </p> + <p> + “My son,” answered the saint, “learn to have trust in God, who never will + suffer those to perish of hunger who believe in Him.” + </p> + <p> + Then looking up and seeing an eagle flying in the air, he added, “Do you + see the eagle yonder? It is possible for God to feed us by means of this + bird.” + </p> + <p> + While they were talking thus, they came to a river, and, lo! the eagle + stood on the bank. + </p> + <p> + “Son,” said Saint Cuthbert, “run and see what provision God has made for + us by his handmaid the bird.” + </p> + <p> + The lad ran, and found a good-sized fish that the eagle had just caught. + This he brought to the saint. + </p> + <p> + “What have you done?” exclaimed the good man, “why have you not given a + part to God's handmaid? Cut the fish in two pieces, and give her one, as + her service well deserves.” + </p> + <p> + The lad did as he was bidden, and the eagle, taking the half fish in her + beak, flew away. + </p> + <p> + Then entering a neighboring village, Saint Cuthbert gave the other half to + a peasant to cook, and while the lad and the villagers feasted, the good + saint preached to them the Word of God. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0100" id="link2H_4_0100"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE EARS OF WHEAT + </h2> + <h3> + BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM (TRANSLATED) + </h3> + <p> + Ages upon ages ago, says the German grandmother, when angels used to + wander on earth, the ground was more fruitful than it is now. Then the + stalks of wheat bore not fifty or sixty fold, but four times five hundred + fold. Then the wheat-ears grew from the bottom to the top of the stalk. + But the men of the earth forgot that this blessing came from God, and they + became idle and selfish. + </p> + <p> + One day a woman went through a wheat-field, and her little child, who + accompanied her, fell into a puddle and soiled her frock. The mother tore + off a handful of the wheat-ears and cleaned the child's dress with them. + </p> + <p> + Just then an angel passed by and saw her. Wrathfully he spoke:— + </p> + <p> + “Wasteful woman, no longer shall the wheat-stalks produce ears. You + mortals are not worthy of the gifts of Heaven!” + </p> + <p> + Some peasants who were gathering wheat in the fields heard this, and + falling on their knees, prayed and entreated the angel to leave the wheat + alone, not only on their account, but for the sake of the little birds who + otherwise must perish of hunger. + </p> + <p> + The angel pitied their distress, and granted a part of the prayer. And + from that day to this the ears of wheat have grown as they do now. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0101" id="link2H_4_0101"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + HOW INDIAN CORN CAME INTO THE WORLD + </h2> + <h3> + AN OJIBBEWAY LEGEND + </h3> + <p> + BY HENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT (ADAPTED) + </p> + <p> + Long, long ago, in a beautiful part of this country, there lived an Indian + with his wife and children. He was poor and found it hard to provide food + enough for his family. But though needy he was kind and contented, and + always gave thanks to the Great Spirit for everything that he received. + His eldest son, Wunzh, was likewise kind and gentle and thankful of heart, + and he longed greatly to do something for his people. + </p> + <p> + The time came that Wunzh reached the age when every Indian boy fasts so + that he may see in a vision the Spirit that is to be his guide through + life. Wunph's father built him a little lodge apart, so that the boy might + rest there undisturbed during his days of fasting. Then Wunzh withdrew to + begin the solemn rite. + </p> + <p> + On the first day he walked alone in the woods looking at the flowers and + plants, and filling his mind with the beautiful images of growing things + so that he might see them in his night-dreams. He saw how the flowers and + herbs and berries grew, and he knew that some were good for food, and that + others healed wounds and cured sickness. And his heart was filled with + even a greater longing to do something for his family and his tribe. + </p> + <p> + “Truly,” thought he, “the Great Spirit made all things. To Him we owe our + lives. But could He not make it easier for us to get our food than by + hunting and catching fish? I must try to find this out in my vision.” + </p> + <p> + So Wunzh returned to his lodge and fasted and slept. On the third day he + became weak and faint. Soon he saw in a vision a young brave coming down + from the sky and approaching the lodge. He was clad in rich garments of + green and yellow colors. On his head was a tuft of nodding green plumes, + and all his motions were graceful and swaying. + </p> + <p> + “I am sent to you, O Wunzh,” said the sky-stranger, “by that Great Spirit + who made all things in sky and earth. He has seen your fasting, and knows + how you wish to do good to your people, and that you do not seek for + strength in war nor for the praise of warriors. I am sent to tell you how + you may do good to your kindred. Arise and wrestle with me, for only by + overcoming me may you learn the secret.” + </p> + <p> + Wunzh, though he was weak from fasting, felt courage grow in his heart, + and he arose and wrestled with the stranger. But soon he became weaker and + exhausted, and the stranger, seeing this, smiled gently on him and said: + “My friend, this is enough for once, I will come again to-morrow.” And he + vanished as suddenly as he had appeared. + </p> + <p> + The next day the stranger came, and Wunzh felt himself weaker than before; + nevertheless he rose and wrestled bravely. Then the stranger spoke a + second time. “My friend,” he said, “have courage! To-morrow will be your + last trial.” And he disappeared from Wunzh's sight. + </p> + <p> + On the third day the stranger came as before, and the struggle was + renewed. And Wunzh, though fainter in body, grew strong in mind and will, + and he determined to win or perish in the attempt. He exerted all his + powers, and, lo! in a while, he prevailed and overcame the stranger. + </p> + <p> + “O Wunzh, my friend,” said the conquered one, “you have wrestled manfully. + You have met your trial well. To-morrow I shall come again and you must + wrestle with me for the last time. You will prevail. Do you then strip off + my garments, throw me down, clean the earth of roots and weeds, and bury + me in that spot. When you have done so, leave my body in the ground. Come + often to the place and see whether I have come to life, but be careful not + to let weeds or grass grow on my grave. If you do all this well, you will + soon discover how to benefit your fellow creatures.” Having said this the + stranger disappeared. + </p> + <p> + In the morning Wunzh's father came to him with food. “My son,” he said, + “you have fasted long. It is seven days since you have tasted food, and + you must not sacrifice your life. The Master of Life does not require + that.” + </p> + <p> + “My father,” replied the boy, “wait until the sun goes down to-morrow. For + a certain reason I wish to fast until that hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said the old man, “I shall wait until the time arrives when + you feel inclined to eat.” And he went away. + </p> + <p> + The next day, at the usual hour, the sky stranger came again. And, though + Wunzh had fasted seven days, he felt a new power arise within him. He + grasped the stranger with superhuman strength, and threw him down. He took + from him his beautiful garments, and, finding him dead, buried him in the + softened earth, and did all else as he had been directed. + </p> + <p> + He then returned to his father's lodge, and partook sparingly of food. + There he abode for some time. But he never forgot the grave of his friend. + Daily he visited it, and pulled up the weeds and grass, and kept the earth + soft and moist. Very soon, to his great wonder, he saw the tops of green + plumes coming through the ground. + </p> + <p> + Weeks passed by, the summer was drawing to a close. One day Wunzh asked + his father to follow him. He led him to a distant meadow. There, in the + place where the stranger had been buried, stood a tall and graceful plant, + with bright-colored, silken hair, and crowned by nodding green plumes. Its + stalk was covered with waving leaves, and there grew from its sides + clusters of milk-filled ears of corn, golden and sweet, each ear closely + wrapped in its green husks. + </p> + <p> + “It is my friend!” shouted the boy joyously; “it is Mondawmin, the Indian + Corn! We need no longer depend on hunting, so long as this gift is planted + and cared for. The Great Spirit has heard my voice and has sent us this + food.” + </p> + <p> + Then the whole family feasted on the ears of corn and thanked the Great + Spirit who gave it. So Indian Corn came into the world. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0102" id="link2H_4_0102"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE NUTCRACKER DWARF + </h2> + <h3> + BY COUNT FRANZ POCCI (TRANSLATED) + </h3> + <p> + Two boys gathered some hazelnuts in the woods. They sat down under a tree + and tried to eat them, but they did not have their knives, and could not + bite open the nuts with their teeth. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” they complained, “if only some one would come and open the nuts for + us!” + </p> + <p> + Hardly had they said this when a little man came through the woods. And + such a strange little man! He had a great, great head, and from the back + of it a slender pigtail hung down to his heels. He wore a golden cap, a + red coat and yellow stockings. + </p> + <p> + As he came near he sang:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Hight! hight! Bite! bite! + Hans hight I! Nuts bite I! + I chase the squirrels through the trees, + I gather nuts just as I please, + I place them 'twixt my jaws so strong, + And crack and eat them all day long!” + </pre> + <p> + The boys almost died of laughter when they saw this funny little man, who + they knew was a Wood Dwarf. + </p> + <p> + They called out to him: “If you know how to crack nuts, why, come here and + open ours.” + </p> + <p> + But the little man grumbled through his long white beard:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “If I crack the nuts for you + Promise that you'll give me two.” + </pre> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” cried the boys, “you shall have all the nuts you wish, only + crack some for us, and be quick about it!” + </p> + <p> + The little man stood before them, for he could not sit down because of his + long, stiff pigtail that hung down behind, and he sang:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Lift my pigtail, long and thin, + Place your nuts my jaws within, + Pull the pigtail down, and then + I'll crack your nuts, my little men.” + </pre> + <p> + The boys did as they were told, laughing hard all the time. Whenever they + pulled down the pigtail, there was a sharp CRACK, and a broken nut sprang + out of the Nutcracker's mouth. + </p> + <p> + Soon all the hazelnuts were opened, and the little man grumbled again:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Hight! hight! Bite! bite! + Your nuts are cracked, and now my pay + I'll take and then I'll go away.” + </pre> + <p> + Now one of the boys wished to give the little man his promised reward, but + the other, who was a bad boy, stopped him, saying:— + </p> + <p> + “Why do you give that old fellow our nuts? There are only enough for us. + As for you, Nutcracker, go away from here and find some for yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Then the little man grew angry, and he grumbled horribly:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “If you do not pay my fee, + Why, then, you've told a lie to me! + I am hungry, you're well fed, + Quick, or I'll bite off your head!” + </pre> + <p> + But the bad boy only laughed and said: “You 'll bite off my head, will + you! Go away from here just as fast as you can, or you shall feel these + nut-shells,” and he shook his fist at the little man. + </p> + <p> + The Nutcracker grew red with rage. He pulled up his pigtail, snapping his + jaws together,—CRACK,—and the bad boy's head was off. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0103" id="link2H_4_0103"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PUMPKIN PIRATES + </h2> + <h3> + A TALE FROM LUCIAN + </h3> + <p> + BY ALFRED J. CHURCH (ADAPTED) + </p> + <p> + Once upon a time, one Lucian the Greek was filled with a desire to see + strange countries, and especially to discover whether there was any + opposite shore to the ocean by which he lived. + </p> + <p> + So having purchased a vessel, he strengthened it for a voyage, that he + knew would without doubt be long and stormy. Then he chose fifty stout + young fellows having the same love of adventure as himself, and next he + hired the best captain that could be got for money, and put a store of + provisions and water on board. + </p> + <p> + All this being done, he set sail. For many days he and his companions + voyaged on deep waters and in strange seas. At times the wind was fair and + gentle, and at others it blew so hard that the sea rose in a terrible + manner. + </p> + <p> + One day there came a violent whirlwind which twisted the ship about, and, + lifting it into the air, carried it upward into the sky, until it reached + the Moon. There Lucian and his comrades disembarked and visited the + inhabitants of Moonland. They took part in a fierce battle between the + Moon-Folk, the Sun-Folk, and an army of Vulture-Horsemen; and, after many + other wonderful adventures, they departed from Moonland, and sailing + through the sky, visited the Morning Star. Then the wind dropping, the + ship settled once more upon the sea, and they sailed on the water. + </p> + <p> + One morning the wind began to blow vehemently, and they were driven by + storm for days. On the third day they fell in with the Pumpkin Pirates. + These were savages who were wont to sally forth from the islands that lay + in the seas thereabouts, and plunder them that sailed by. + </p> + <p> + For ships they had large pumpkins, each being not less than ninety feet in + length. These pumpkins they dried, and afterward dug out all the inner + part of them till they were quite hollow. For masts they had reeds, and + for sails, in the place of canvas, pumpkin leaves. + </p> + <p> + These savages attacked Lucian's vessel with two ships' or rather two + pumpkins' crews, and wounded many of his company. For stones they used the + pumpkin-seeds, which were about the bigness of a large apple. + </p> + <p> + Lucian's company fought for some time, without gaining the advantage, when + about noon they saw coming toward them, in the rear of the Pumpkin + Pirates, the Nut-Shell Sailors. These two tribes were at war with each + other. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the Pumpkin Pirates saw the others approaching, they left off + fighting Lucian's crew, and prepared to give battle to the Nut-Shell + Sailors. When Lucian saw this he ordered the captain to set all sails; and + they departed with speed. But looking back he could see that the Nut-Shell + Sailors had the best of the battle, being superior in numbers, having five + crews against two of the Pumpkin Pirates, and also because their ships + were stronger. As for their ships, they were the shells of nuts which had + been split in half, each measuring fifteen fathoms, or thereabouts. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the Pumpkin Pirates and the Nut-Shell Sailors were out of + sight, Lucian set himself to dressing the wounds of his injured + companions. And from that time on both Lucian and his crew wore their + armor continually, not knowing when another strange enemy might come upon + them. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0104" id="link2H_4_0104"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SPIRIT OF THE CORN + </h2> + <h3> + AN IROQUOIS LEGEND + </h3> + <p> + BY HARRIET MAXWELL CONVERSE (ADAPTED) + </p> + <p> + There was a time, says the Iroquois grandmother, when it was not needful + to plant the corn-seed nor to hoe the fields, for the corn sprang up of + itself, and filled the broad meadows. Its stalks grew strong and tall, and + were covered with leaves like waving banners, and filled with ears of + pearly grain wrapped in silken green husks. + </p> + <p> + In those days Onatah, the Spirit of the Corn, walked upon the earth. The + sun lovingly touched her dusky face with the blush of the morning, and her + eyes grew soft as the gleam of the stars on dark streams. Her night-black + hair was spread before the breeze like a wind-driven cloud. + </p> + <p> + As she walked through the fields, the corn, the Indian maize, sprang up of + itself from the earth and filled the air with its fringed tassels and + whispering leaves. With Onatah walked her two sisters, the Spirits of the + Squash and the Bean. As they passed by, squash-vines and bean-plants grew + from the corn-hills. + </p> + <p> + One day Onatah wandered away alone in search of early dew. Then the Evil + One of the earth, Hahgwehdaetgah, followed swiftly after. He grasped her + by the hair and dragged her beneath the ground down to his gloomy cave. + Then, sending out his fire-breathing monsters, he blighted Onatah's grain. + And when her sisters, the Spirits of the Squash and the Bean, saw the + flame-monsters raging through the fields, they flew far away in terror. + </p> + <p> + As for poor Onatah, she lay a trembling captive in the dark prison-cave of + the Evil One. She mourned the blight of her cornfields, and sorrowed over + her runaway sisters. + </p> + <p> + “O warm, bright sun!” she cried, “if I may walk once more upon the earth, + never again will I leave my corn!” + </p> + <p> + And the little birds of the air heard her cry, and winging their way + upward they carried her vow and gave it to the sun as he wandered through + the blue heavens. + </p> + <p> + The sun, who loved Onatah, sent out many searching beams of light. They + pierced through the damp earth, and entering the prison-cave, guided her + back again to her fields. + </p> + <p> + And ever after that she watched her fields alone, for no more did her + sisters, the Spirits of the Squash and Bean, watch with her. If her fields + thirsted, no longer could she seek the early dew. If the flame-monsters + burned her corn, she could not search the skies for cooling winds. And + when the great rains fell and injured her harvest, her voice grew so faint + that the friendly sun could not hear it. + </p> + <p> + But ever Onatah tenderly watched her fields and the little birds of the + air flocked to her service. They followed her through the rows of corn, + and made war on the tiny enemies that gnawed at the roots of the grain. + </p> + <p> + And at harvest-time the grateful Onatah scattered the first gathered corn + over her broad lands, and the little birds, fluttering and singing, + joyfully partook of the feast spread for them on the meadow-ground. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0105" id="link2H_4_0105"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE HORN OF PLENTY + </h2> + <h3> + BY OVID (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Aeneus, King of Aetolia, had a daughter whose name was Deianira. So + beautiful was the maiden that her fame spread throughout the world, and + many princes came to woo her. Among these were two strangers, who drove + all the other suitors from the hall of King Aeneus. + </p> + <p> + One was Hercules, huge of limb and broad of shoulder. He was clad in the + skins of beasts, and carried in his hand a knotted club. His tangled hair + hung down upon his brawny neck, and his fierce eyes gleamed from behind + his shaggy brows. + </p> + <p> + The other stranger was Achelous, god of the Calydonian River. Slender and + graceful was he, and clad in flowing green raiment. In his hand he carried + a staff of plaited reeds, and on his head was a crown of water-lilies. His + voice was soft and caressing, like the gentle murmur of summer brooks. + </p> + <p> + “O King Aeneus,” said Achelous, standing before the throne, “behold I am + the King of Waters. If thou wilt receive me as thy son-in-law I will make + the beautiful Deianira queen of my river kingdom.” + </p> + <p> + “King Aeneus,” said the mighty Hercules, stepping forward, “Deianira is + mine, and I will not yield her to this river-god.” + </p> + <p> + “Impertinent stranger!” cried Achelous, turning toward the hero, while his + voice rose till it sounded like the thunder of distant cataracts, and his + green garment changed to the blackness of night,—“impertinent + stranger! how darest thou claim this maiden,—thou who hast mortal + blood in thy veins! Behold me, the god Achelous, the powerful King of the + Waters! I wind with majesty through the rich lands of my wide realms. I + make all fields through which I flow beautiful with grass and flowers. By + my right divine I claim this maiden.” + </p> + <p> + But with scowling eye and rising wrath Hercules made answer. “Thou wouldst + fight with words, like a woman, while I would win by my strength! My right + hand is better than my tongue. If thou wouldst have the maiden, then must + thou first overcome me in combat.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon Achelous threw off his raiment and began to prepare himself for + the struggle. Hercules took off his garment of beasts' skins, and cast + aside his club. The two then anointed their bodies with oil, and threw + yellow sand upon themselves. + </p> + <p> + They took their places, they attacked, they retired, they rushed again to + the conflict. They stood firm, and they yielded not. Long they bravely + wrestled and fought; till at length Hercules by his might overcame + Achelous and bore him to the ground. He pressed him down, and, while the + fallen river-god lay panting for breath, the hero seized him by the neck. + </p> + <p> + Then did Achelous have recourse to his magic arts. Transforming himself + into a serpent he escaped from the hero. He twisted his body into winding + folds, and darted out his forked tongue with frightful hissings. + </p> + <p> + But Hercules laughed mockingly, and cried out: “Ah, Achelous! While yet in + my cradle I strangled two serpents! And what art thou compared to the + Hydra whose hundred heads I cut off? Every time I cut of I one head two + others grew in its place. Yet did I conquer that horror, in spite of its + branching serpents that darted from every wound! Thinkest thou, then, that + I fear thee, thou mimic snake?” And even as he spake he gripped, as with a + pair of pincers, the back of the river-god's head. + </p> + <p> + And Achelous struggled in vain to escape. Then, again having recourse to + his magic, he became a raging bull, and renewed the fight. But Hercules, + that mighty hero, threw his huge arms over the brawny neck of the bull, + and dragged him about. Then seizing hold of his horns, he bent his head to + one side, and bearing down fastened them into the ground. And that was not + enough, but with relentless hand he broke one of the horns, and tore it + from Achelous's forehead. + </p> + <p> + The river-god returned to his own shape. He roared aloud with rage and + pain, and hiding his mutilated head in his mantle, rushed from the hall + and plunged into the swirling waters of his stream. + </p> + <p> + Then the goddess of Plenty, and all the Wood-Nymphs and Water-Nymphs came + forward to greet the conqueror with song and dance. They took the huge + horn of Achelous and heaped it high with the rich and glowing fruits and + flowers of autumn. They wreathed it with vines and with clustering grapes, + and bearing it aloft presented it to Hercules and his beautiful bride + Deianira. + </p> + <p> + And ever since that day has the Horn of Plenty gladdened men's hearts at + Harvest-Time. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0106" id="link2H_4_0106"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHRISTMAS DAY + </h2> + <h3> + (DECEMBER 25) + </h3> + <p> + LITTLE PICCOLA AFTER CELIA THAXTER + </p> + <p> + In the sunny land of France there lived many years ago a sweet little maid + named Piccola. + </p> + <p> + Her father had died when she was a baby, and her mother was very poor and + had to work hard all day in the fields for a few sous. + </p> + <p> + Little Piccola had no dolls and toys, and she was often hungry and cold, + but she was never sad nor lonely. + </p> + <p> + What if there were no children for her to play with! What if she did not + have fine clothes and beautiful toys! In summer there were always the + birds in the forest, and the flowers in the fields and meadows,—the + birds sang so sweetly, and the flowers were so bright and pretty! + </p> + <p> + In the winter when the ground was covered with snow, Piccola helped her + mother, and knit long stockings of blue wool. + </p> + <p> + The snow-birds had to be fed with crumbs, if she could find any, and then, + there was Christmas Day. + </p> + <p> + But one year her mother was ill and could not earn any money. Piccola + worked hard all the day long, and sold the stockings which she knit, even + when her own little bare feet were blue with the cold. + </p> + <p> + As Christmas Day drew near she said to her mother, “I wonder what the good + Saint Nicholas will bring me this year. I cannot hang my stocking in the + fireplace, but I shall put my wooden shoe on the hearth for him. He will + not forget me, I am sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not think of it this year, my dear child,” replied her mother. “We + must be glad if we have bread enough to eat.” + </p> + <p> + But Piccola could not believe that the good saint would forget her. On + Christmas Eve she put her little wooden patten on the hearth before the + fire, and went to sleep to dream of Saint Nicholas. + </p> + <p> + As the poor mother looked at the little shoe, she thought how unhappy her + dear child would be to find it empty in the morning, and wished that she + had something, even if it were only a tiny cake, for a Christmas gift. + There was nothing in the house but a few sous, and these must be saved to + buy bread. + </p> + <p> + When the morning dawned Piccola awoke and ran to her shoe. + </p> + <p> + Saint Nicholas had come in the night. He had not forgotten the little + child who had thought of him with such faith. + </p> + <p> + See what he had brought her. It lay in the wooden patten, looking up at + her with its two bright eyes, and chirping contentedly as she stroked its + soft feathers. + </p> + <p> + A little swallow, cold and hungry, had flown into the chimney and down to + the room, and had crept into the shoe for warmth. + </p> + <p> + Piccola danced for joy, and clasped the shivering swallow to her breast. + </p> + <p> + She ran to her mother's bedside. “Look, look!” she cried. “A Christmas + gift, a gift from the good Saint Nicholas!” And she danced again in her + little bare feet. + </p> + <p> + Then she fed and warmed the bird, and cared for it tenderly all winter + long; teaching it to take crumbs from her hand and her lips, and to sit on + her shoulder while she was working. + </p> + <p> + In the spring she opened the window for it to fly away, but it lived in + the woods near by all summer, and came often in the early morning to sing + its sweetest songs at her door. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0107" id="link2H_4_0107"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE STRANGER CHILD + </h2> + <h3> + A LEGEND + </h3> + <p> + BY COUNT FRANZ POCCI (TRANSLATED) + </p> + <p> + There once lived a laborer who earned his daily bread by cutting wood. His + wife and two children, a boy and girl, helped him with his work. The boy's + name was Valentine, and the girl's, Marie. They were obedient and pious + and the joy and comfort of their poor parents. + </p> + <p> + One winter evening, this good family gathered about the table to eat their + small loaf of bread, while the father read aloud from the Bible. Just as + they sat down there came a knock on the window, and a sweet voice called:— + </p> + <p> + “O let me in! I am a little child, and I have nothing to eat, and no place + to sleep in. I am so cold and hungry! Please, good people, let me in!” + </p> + <p> + Valentine and Marie sprang from the table and ran to open the door, + saying:— + </p> + <p> + “Come in, poor child, we have but very little ourselves, not much more + than thou hast, but what we have we will share with thee.” + </p> + <p> + The stranger Child entered, and going to the fire began to warm his cold + hands. + </p> + <p> + The children gave him a portion of their bread, and said:— + </p> + <p> + “Thou must be very tired; come, lie down in our bed, and we will sleep on + the bench here before the fire.” + </p> + <p> + Then answered the stranger Child: “May God in Heaven reward you for your + kindness.” + </p> + <p> + They led the little guest to their small room, laid him in their bed, and + covered him closely, thinking to themselves:— + </p> + <p> + “Oh! how much we have to be thankful for! We have our nice warm room and + comfortable bed, while this Child has nothing but the sky for a roof, and + the earth for a couch.” + </p> + <p> + When the parents went to their bed, Valentine and Marie lay down on the + bench before the fire, and said one to the other:— + </p> + <p> + “The stranger Child is happy now, because he is so warm! Good-night!” + </p> + <p> + Then they fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + They had not slept many hours, when little Marie awoke, and touching her + brother lightly, whispered:— + </p> + <p> + “Valentine, Valentine, wake up! wake up! Listen to the beautiful music at + the window.” + </p> + <p> + Valentine rubbed his eyes and listened. He heard the most wonderful + singing and the sweet notes of many harps. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Blessed Child, + Thee we greet, + With sound of harp + And singing sweet. + + “Sleep in peace, + Child so bright, + We have watched thee + All the night. + + “Blest the home + That holdeth Thee, + Peace, and love, + Its guardians be.” + </pre> + <p> + The children listened to the beautiful singing, and it seemed to fill them + with unspeakable happiness. Then creeping to the window they looked out. + </p> + <p> + They saw a rosy light in the east, and, before the house in the snow, + stood a number of little children holding golden harps and lutes in their + hands, and dressed in sparkling, silver robes. + </p> + <p> + Full of wonder at this sight, Valentine and Marie continued to gaze out at + the window, when they heard a sound behind them, and turning saw the + stranger Child standing near. He was clad in a golden garment, and wore a + glistening, golden crown upon his soft hair. Sweetly he spoke to the + children:— + </p> + <p> + “I am the Christ Child, who wanders about the world seeking to bring joy + and good things to loving children. Because you have lodged me this night + I will leave with you my blessing.” + </p> + <p> + As the Christ Child spoke He stepped from the door, and breaking off a + bough from a fir tree that grew near, planted it in the ground, saying:— + </p> + <p> + “This bough shall grow into a tree, and every year it shall bear Christmas + fruit for you.” + </p> + <p> + Having said this He vanished from their sight, together with the + silver-clad, singing children—the angels. + </p> + <p> + And, as Valentine and Marie looked on in wonder, the fir bough grew, and + grew, and grew, into a stately Christmas Tree laden with golden apples, + silver nuts, and lovely toys. And after that, every year at Christmas + time, the Tree bore the same wonderful fruit. + </p> + <p> + And you, dear boys and girls, when you gather around your richly decorated + trees, think of the two poor children who shared their bread with a + stranger child, and be thankful. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0108" id="link2H_4_0108"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SAINT CHRISTOPHER + </h2> + <h3> + A GOLDEN LEGEND + </h3> + <p> + ENGLISHED BY WILLIAM CAXTON (ADAPTED) + </p> + <p> + Christopher was a Canaanite, and he was of a right great stature, twelve + cubits in height, and had a terrible countenance. And it is said that as + he served and dwelled with the King of Canaan, it came in his mind that he + would seek the greatest prince that was in the world, and him would he + serve and obey. + </p> + <p> + So he went forth and came to a right great king, whom fame said was the + greatest of the world. And when the king saw him he received him into his + service, and made him to dwell in his court. + </p> + <p> + Upon a time a minstrel sang before him a song in which he named oft the + devil. And the king, who was a Christian, when he heard him name the + devil, made anon the sign of the cross. + </p> + <p> + And when Christopher saw that he marveled, and asked what the sign might + mean. And because the king would not say, he said: “If thou tell me not, I + shall no longer dwell with thee.” + </p> + <p> + And then the King told him, saying: “Alway when I hear the devil named + make I this sign lest he grieve or annoy me.” + </p> + <p> + Then said Christopher to him: “Fearest thou the devil? Then is the devil + more mighty and greater than thou art. I am then deceived, for I had + supposed that I had found the most mighty and the most greatest lord in + all the world! Fare thee well, for I will now go seek the devil to be my + lord and I his servant.” + </p> + <p> + So Christopher departed from this king and hastened to seek the devil. And + as he went by a great desert he saw a company of knights, and one of them, + a knight cruel and horrible, came to him and demanded whither he went. + </p> + <p> + And Christopher answered: “I go to seek the devil for to be my master.” + </p> + <p> + Then said the knight: “I am he that thou seekest.” + </p> + <p> + And then Christopher was glad and bound himself to be the devil's servant, + and took him for his master and lord. + </p> + <p> + Now, as they went along the way they found there a cross, erect and + standing. And anon as the devil saw the cross he was afeared and fled. And + when Christopher saw that he marveled and demanded why he was afeared, and + why he fled away. And the devil would not tell him in no wise. + </p> + <p> + Then Christopher said to him: “If thou wilt not tell me, I shall anon + depart from thee and shall serve thee no more.” + </p> + <p> + Wherefore the devil was forced to tell him and said: “There was a man + called Christ, which was hanged on the cross, and when I see his sign I am + sore afraid and flee from it.” + </p> + <p> + To whom Christopher said: “Then he is greater and more mightier than thou, + since thou art afraid of his sign, and I see well that I have labored in + vain, and have not founden the greatest lord of the world. I will serve + thee no longer, but I will go seek Christ.” + </p> + <p> + And when Christopher had long sought where he should find Christ, at last + he came into a great desert, to a hermit that dwelt there. And he inquired + of him where Christ was to be found. + </p> + <p> + Then answered the hermit: “The king whom thou desirest to serve, requireth + that thou must often fast.” + </p> + <p> + Christopher said: “Require of me some other thing and I shall do it, but + fast I may not.” + </p> + <p> + And the hermit said: “Thou must then wake and make many prayers.” + </p> + <p> + And Christopher said: “I do not know how to pray, so this I may not do.” + </p> + <p> + And the hermit said: “Seest thou yonder deep and wide river, in which many + people have perished? Because thou art noble, and of high stature and + strong of limb, so shalt thou live by the river and thou shalt bear over + all people who pass that way. And this thing will be pleasing to our Lord + Jesu Christ, whom thou desirest to serve, and I hope he shall show himself + to thee.” + </p> + <p> + Then said Christopher: “Certes, this service may I well do, and I promise + Him to do it.” + </p> + <p> + Then went Christopher to this river, and built himself there a hut. He + carried a great pole in his hand, to support himself in the water, and + bore over on his shoulders all manner of people to the other side. And + there he abode, thus doing many days. + </p> + <p> + And on a time, as he slept in his hut, he heard the voice of a child which + called him:— + </p> + <p> + “Christopher, Christopher, come out and bear me over.” + </p> + <p> + Then he awoke and went out, but he found no man. And when he was again in + his house he heard the same voice, crying:— + </p> + <p> + “Christopher, Christopher, come out and bear me over.” + </p> + <p> + And he ran out and found nobody. + </p> + <p> + And the third time he was called and ran thither, and he found a Child by + the brink of the river, which prayed him goodly to bear him over the + water. + </p> + <p> + And then Christopher lifted up the Child on his shoulders, and took his + staff, and entered into the river for to pass over. And the water of the + river arose and swelled more and more; and the Child was heavy as lead, + and always as Christopher went farther the water increased and grew more, + and the Child more and more waxed heavy, insomuch that Christopher + suffered great anguish and was afeared to be drowned. + </p> + <p> + And when he was escaped with great pain, and passed over the water, and + set the Child aground, he said:— + </p> + <p> + “Child, thou hast put me in great peril. Thou weighest almost as I had all + the world upon me. I might bear no greater burden.” + </p> + <p> + And the Child answered: “Christopher, marvel thee nothing, for thou hast + not only borne all the world upon thee, but thou hast borne Him that + created and made all the world, upon thy shoulders. I am Jesu Christ the + King whom thou servest. And that thou mayest know that I say the truth, + set thy staff in the earth by thy house, and thou shalt see to-morn that + it shall bear flowers and fruit.” + </p> + <p> + And anon the Child vanished from his eyes. + </p> + <p> + And then Christopher set his staff in the earth, and when he arose on the + morn, he found his staff bearing flowers, leaves, and dates. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0109" id="link2H_4_0109"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CHRISTMAS ROSE + </h2> + <h3> + AN OLD LEGEND + </h3> + <p> + BY LIZZIE DEAS (ADAPTED) + </p> + <p> + When the Magi laid their rich offerings of myrrh, frankincense, and gold, + by the bed of the sleeping Christ Child, legend says that a shepherd + maiden stood outside the door quietly weeping. + </p> + <p> + She, too, had sought the Christ Child. She, too, desired to bring him + gifts. But she had nothing to offer, for she was very poor indeed. In vain + she had searched the countryside over for one little flower to bring Him, + but she could find neither bloom nor leaf, for the winter had been cold. + </p> + <p> + And as she stood there weeping, an angel passing saw her sorrow, and + stooping he brushed aside the snow at her feet. And there sprang up on the + spot a cluster of beautiful winter roses,—waxen white with pink + tipped petals. + </p> + <p> + “Nor myrrh, nor frankincense, nor gold,” said the angel, “is offering more + meet for the Christ Child than these pure Christmas Roses.” + </p> + <p> + Joyfully the shepherd maiden gathered the flowers and made her offering to + the Holy Child. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0110" id="link2H_4_0110"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE WOODEN SHOES OF LITTLE WOLFF + </h2> + <h3> + BY FRANCOIS COPPEE (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Once upon a time,—so long ago that the world has forgotten the date,—in + a city of the North of Europe,—the name of which is so hard to + pronounce that no one remembers it,—there was a little boy, just + seven years old, whose name was Wolff. He was an orphan and lived with his + aunt, a hard-hearted, avaricious old woman, who never kissed him but once + a year, on New Year's Day; and who sighed with regret every time she gave + him a bowlful of soup. + </p> + <p> + The poor little boy was so sweet-tempered that he loved the old woman in + spite of her bad treatment, but he could not look without trembling at the + wart, decorated with four gray hairs, which grew on the end of her nose. + </p> + <p> + As Wolff's aunt was known to have a house of her own and a woolen stocking + full of gold, she did not dare to send her nephew to the school for the + poor. But she wrangled so that the schoolmaster of the rich boys' school + was forced to lower his price and admit little Wolff among his pupils. The + bad schoolmaster was vexed to have a boy so meanly clad and who paid so + little, and he punished little Wolff severely without cause, ridiculed + him, and even incited against him his comrades, who were the sons of rich + citizens. They made the orphan their drudge and mocked at him so much that + the little boy was as miserable as the stones in the street, and hid + himself away in corners to cry—when the Christmas season came. + </p> + <p> + On the Eve of the great Day the schoolmaster was to take all his pupils to + the midnight mass, and then to conduct them home again to their parents' + houses. + </p> + <p> + Now as the winter was very severe, and a quantity of snow had fallen + within the past few days, the boys came to the place of meeting warmly + wrapped up, with fur-lined caps drawn down over their ears, padded + jackets, gloves and knitted mittens, and good strong shoes with thick + soles. Only little Wolff presented himself shivering in his thin everyday + clothes, and wearing on his feet socks and wooden shoes. + </p> + <p> + His naughty comrades tried to annoy him in every possible way, but the + orphan was so busy warming his hands by blowing on them, and was suffering + so much from chilblains, that he paid no heed to the taunts of the others. + Then the band of boys, marching two by two, started for the parish church. + </p> + <p> + It was comfortable inside the church, which was brilliant with lighted + tapers. And the pupils, made lively by the gentle warmth, the sound of the + organ, and the singing of the choir, began to chatter in low tones. They + boasted of the midnight treats awaiting them at home. The son of the Mayor + had seen, before leaving the house, a monstrous goose larded with truffles + so that it looked like a black-spotted leopard. Another boy told of the + fir tree waiting for him, on the branches of which hung oranges, + sugar-plums, and punchinellos. Then they talked about what the Christ + Child would bring them, or what he would leave in their shoes which they + would certainly be careful to place before the fire when they went to bed. + And the eyes of the little rogues, lively as a crowd of mice, sparkled + with delight as they thought of the many gifts they would find on waking,—the + pink bags of burnt almonds, the bonbons, lead soldiers standing in rows, + menageries, and magnificent jumping-jacks, dressed in purple and gold. + </p> + <p> + Little Wolff, alas! knew well that his miserly old aunt would send him to + bed without any supper; but as he had been good and industrious all the + year, he trusted that the Christ Child would not forget him, so he meant + that night to set his wooden shoes on the hearth. + </p> + <p> + The midnight mass was ended. The worshipers hurried away, anxious to enjoy + the treats awaiting them in their homes. The band of pupils, two by two, + following the schoolmaster, passed out of the church. + </p> + <p> + Now, under the porch, seated on a stone bench, in the shadow of an arched + niche, was a child asleep,—a little child dressed in a white garment + and with bare feet exposed to the cold. He was not a beggar, for his dress + was clean and new, and—beside him upon the ground, tied in a cloth, + were the tools of a carpenter's apprentice. + </p> + <p> + Under the light of the stars, his face, with its closed eyes, shone with + an expression of divine sweetness, and his soft, curling blond hair seemed + to form an aureole of light about his forehead. But his tender feet, blue + with the cold on this cruel night of December, were pitiful to see! + </p> + <p> + The pupils so warmly clad and shod, passed with indifference before the + unknown child. Some, the sons of the greatest men in the city, cast looks + of scorn on the barefooted one. But little Wolff, coming last out of the + church, stopped deeply moved before the beautiful, sleeping child. + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” said the orphan to himself, “how dreadful! This poor little one + goes without stockings in weather so cold! And, what is worse, he has no + shoe to leave beside him while he sleeps, so that the Christ Child may + place something in it to comfort him in all his misery.” + </p> + <p> + And carried away by his tender heart, little Wolff drew off the wooden + shoe from his right foot, placed it before the sleeping child; and as best + as he was able, now hopping, now limping, and wetting his sock in the + snow, he returned to his aunt. + </p> + <p> + “You good-for-nothing!” cried the old woman, full of rage as she saw that + one of his shoes was gone. “What have you done with your shoe, little + beggar?” + </p> + <p> + Little Wolff did not know how to lie, and, though shivering with terror as + he saw the gray hairs on the end of her nose stand upright, he tried, + stammering, to tell his adventure. + </p> + <p> + But the old miser burst into frightful laughter. “Ah! the sweet young + master takes off his shoe for a beggar! Ah! master spoils a pair of shoes + for a barefoot! This is something new, indeed! Ah! well, since things are + so, I will place the shoe that is left in the fireplace, and to-night the + Christ Child will put in a rod to whip you when you wake. And to-morrow + you shall have nothing to eat but water and dry bread, and we shall see if + the next time you will give away your shoe to the first vagabond that + comes along.” + </p> + <p> + And saying this the wicked woman gave him a box on each ear, and made him + climb to his wretched room in the loft. There the heartbroken little one + lay down in the darkness, and, drenching his pillow with tears, fell + asleep. + </p> + <p> + But in the morning, when the old woman, awakened by the cold and shaken by + her cough, descended to the kitchen, oh! wonder of wonders! she saw the + great fireplace filled with bright toys, magnificent boxes of sugar-plums, + riches of all sorts, and in front of all this treasure, the wooden shoe + which her nephew had given to the vagabond, standing beside the other shoe + which she herself had placed there the night before, intending to put in + it a handful of switches. + </p> + <p> + And as little Wolff, who had come running at the cries of his aunt, stood + in speechless delight before all the splendid Christmas gifts, there came + great shouts of laughter from the street. + </p> + <p> + The old woman and the little boy went out to learn what it was all about, + and saw the gossips gathered around the public fountain. What could have + happened? Oh, a most amusing and extraordinary thing! The children of all + the rich men of the city, whose parents wished to surprise them with the + most beautiful gifts, had found nothing but switches in their shoes! + </p> + <p> + Then the old woman and little Wolff remembered with alarm all the riches + that were in their own fireplace, but just then they saw the pastor of the + parish church arriving with his face full of perplexity. + </p> + <p> + Above the bench near the church door, in the very spot where the night + before a child, dressed in white, with bare feet exposed to the great + cold, had rested his sleeping head, the pastor had seen a golden circle + wrought into the old stones. Then all the people knew that the beautiful, + sleeping child, beside whom had lain the carpenter's tools, was the Christ + Child himself, and that he had rewarded the faith and charity of little + Wolff. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0111" id="link2H_4_0111"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PINE TREE + </h2> + <h3> + BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN (TRANSLATED) + </h3> + <p> + I. WHEN IT WAS LITTLE + </p> + <p> + Out in the woods stood such a nice little Pine Tree: he had a good place; + the sun could get at him; there was fresh air enough; and round him grew + many big comrades, both pines and firs. But the little Pine wanted so very + much to be a grown-up tree. + </p> + <p> + He did not think of the warm sun and of the fresh air, he did not care for + the little cottage-children who ran about and prattled when they were + looking for wild strawberries and raspberries. Often they came with a + whole jug full, or had their strawberries strung on a straw, and sat down + near the little Tree and said, “Oh, what a nice little fellow!” This was + what the Tree could not bear to hear. + </p> + <p> + The year after he had shot up a good deal, and the next year after he was + still bigger; for with pine trees one can always tell by the shoots how + many years old they are. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, were I but such a big tree as the others are,” sighed the little + Tree. “Then I could spread my branches so far, and with the tops look out + into the wide world! Birds would build nests among my branches; and when + there was a breeze, I could nod as grandly as the others there.” + </p> + <p> + He had no delight at all in the sunshine, or in the birds, or the red + clouds which morning and evening sailed above him. + </p> + <p> + When now it was winter and the snow all around lay glittering white, a + hare would often come leaping along, and jump right over the little Tree. + Oh, that made him so angry! But two winters went by, and with the third + the Tree was so big that the hare had to go round it. “Oh, to grow, to + grow, to become big and old, and be tall,” thought the Tree: “that, after + all, is the most delightful thing in the world!” + </p> + <p> + In autumn the wood-cutters always came and felled some of the largest + trees. This happened every year, and the young Pine Tree, that was now + quite well grown, trembled at the sight; for the great stately trees fell + to the earth with noise and cracking, the branches were lopped off, and + the trees looked quite bare, they were so long and thin; you would hardly + know them for trees, and then they were laid on carts, and horses dragged + them out of the wood. + </p> + <p> + Where did they go to? What became of them? + </p> + <p> + In spring, when the Swallow and the Stork came, the Tree asked them, + “Don't you know where they have been taken? Have you not met them + anywhere?” + </p> + <p> + The Swallow did not know anything about it; but the Stork looked doubtful, + nodded his head, and said, “Yes; I have it; I met many new ships as I was + flying from Egypt; on the ships were splendid masts, and I dare say it was + they that smelt so of pine. I wish you joy, for they lifted themselves on + high in fine style!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, were I but old enough to fly across the sea! How does the sea really + look? and what is it like?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, that takes a long time to tell,” said the Stork, and away he went. + </p> + <p> + “Rejoice in thy youth!” said the Sunbeams, “rejoice in thy hearty growth, + and in the young life that is in thee!” + </p> + <p> + And the Wind kissed the Tree, and the Dew wept tears over him, but the + Pine Tree understood it not. + </p> + <p> + II. CHRISTMAS IN THE WOODS + </p> + <p> + When Christmas came, quite young trees were cut down; trees which were not + even so large or of the same age as this Pine Tree, who had no rest or + peace, but always wanted to be off. These young trees, and they were + always the finest looking, always kept their branches; they were laid on + carts, and the horses drew them out of the wood. + </p> + <p> + “Where are they going to?” asked the Pine Tree. “They are not taller than + I; there was one, indeed, that was much shorter;—and why do they + keep all their branches? Where are they carrying them to?” + </p> + <p> + “We know! we know!” chirped the Sparrows. “We have peeped in at the + windows down there in the town. We know where they are carrying them to. + Oh, they are going to where it is as bright and splendid as you can think! + We peeped through the windows, and saw them planted in the middle of the + warm room, and dressed with the most splendid things,—with gilded + apples, with gingerbread, with toys and many hundred lights!” + </p> + <p> + “And then?” asked the Pine Tree, and he trembled in every bough. “And + then? What happens then?” + </p> + <p> + “We did not see anything more: it beat everything!” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if I am to sparkle like that!” cried the Tree, rejoicing. “That + is still better than to go over the sea! How I do suffer for very longing! + Were Christmas but come! I am now tall, and stretch out like the others + that were carried off last year! Oh, if I were already on the cart! I wish + I were in the warm room with all the splendor and brightness. And then? + Yes; then will come something better, something still grander, or why + should they dress me out so? There must come something better, something + still grander,—but what? Oh, how I long, how I suffer! I do not know + myself what is the matter with me!” + </p> + <p> + “Rejoice in us!” said the Air and the Sunlight; “rejoice in thy fresh + youth out here in the open air!” + </p> + <p> + But the Tree did not rejoice at all; he grew and grew; and he stood there + in all his greenery; rich green was he winter and summer. People that saw + him said, “That's a fine tree!” and toward Christmas he was the first that + was cut down. The axe struck deep into the very pith; the Tree fell to the + earth with a sigh: he felt a pang—it was like a swoon; he could not + think of happiness, for he was sad at being parted from his home, from the + place where he had sprung up. He well knew that he should never see his + dear old comrades, the little bushes and flowers around him, any more; + perhaps not even the birds! The setting off was not at all pleasant. + </p> + <p> + The Tree only came to himself when he was unloaded in a courtyard with + other trees, and heard a man say, “That one is splendid! we don't want the + others.” Then two servants came in rich livery and carried the Pine Tree + into a large and splendid room. Portraits were hanging on the walls, and + near the white porcelain stove stood two large Chinese vases with lions on + the covers. There, too, were large easy-chairs, silken sofas, large tables + full of picture-books, and full of toys worth a hundred times a hundred + dollars—at least so the children said. And the Pine Tree was stuck + upright in a cask filled with sand: but no one could see that it was a + cask, for green cloth was hung all around it, and it stood on a gayly + colored carpet. Oh, how the Tree quivered! What was to happen? The + servants, as well as the young ladies, dressed it. On one branch there + hung little nets cut out of colored paper; each net was filled with + sugar-plums; gilded apples and walnuts hung as though they grew tightly + there, and more than a hundred little red, blue, and white tapers were + stuck fast into the branches. Dolls that looked for all the world like men—the + Tree had never seen such things before—fluttered among the leaves, + and at the very top a large star of gold tinsel was fixed. It was really + splendid—splendid beyond telling. + </p> + <p> + “This evening!” said they all; “how it will shine this evening!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” thought the Tree, “if it were only evening! If the tapers were but + lighted! And then I wonder what will happen! I wonder if the other trees + from the forest will come to look at me! I wonder if the sparrows will + beat against the window-panes! I wonder if I shall take root here, and + stand dressed so winter and summer!” + </p> + <p> + Aye, aye, much he knew about the matter! but he had a real back-ache for + sheer longing, and a back-ache with trees is the same thing as a head-ache + with us. + </p> + <p> + III. CHRISTMAS IN THE HOUSE + </p> + <p> + The candles were now lighted. What brightness! What splendor! The Tree + trembled so in every bough that one of the tapers set fire to a green + branch. It blazed up splendidly. + </p> + <p> + Now the Tree did not even dare to tremble. That was a fright! He was so + afraid of losing something of all his finery, that he was quite confused + amidst the glare and brightness; and now both folding-doors opened, and a + troop of children rushed in as if they would tip the whole Tree over. The + older folks came quietly behind; the little ones stood quite still, but + only for a moment, then they shouted so that the whole place echoed their + shouts, they danced round the Tree, and one present after another was + pulled off. + </p> + <p> + “What are they about?” thought the Tree. “What is to happen now?” And the + lights burned down to the very branches, and as they burned down they were + put out one after the other, and then the children had leave to plunder + the Tree. Oh, they rushed upon it so that it cracked in all its limbs; if + its tip-top with the gold star on it had not been fastened to the ceiling, + it would have tumbled over. + </p> + <p> + The children danced about with their pretty toys; no one looked at the + Tree except the old nurse, who peeped in among the branches; but it was + only to see if there was a fig or an apple that had been forgotten. + </p> + <p> + “A story! a story!” cried the children, and they dragged a little fat man + toward the Tree. He sat down under it, and said, “Now we are in the shade, + and the Tree can hear very well too. But I shall tell only one story. Now + which will you have: that about Ivedy-Avedy, or about Klumpy-Dumpy who + tumbled downstairs, and came to the throne after all, and married the + princess?” + </p> + <p> + “Ivedy-Avedy,” cried some; “Klumpy-Dumpy,” cried the others. There was + such a bawling and screaming!—the Pine Tree alone was silent, and he + thought to himself, “Am I not to bawl with the rest?—am I to do + nothing whatever?”—for he was one of them, and he had done what he + had to do. + </p> + <p> + And the man told about Klumpy-Dumpy who tumbled downstairs, and came to + the throne after all, and married the princess. And the children clapped + their hands, and cried out, “Go on, go on!” They wanted to hear about + Ivedy-Avedy too, but the little man only told them about Klumpy-Dumpy. The + Pine Tree stood quite still and thoughtful: the birds in the wood had + never told anything like this. “Klumpy-Dumpy fell downstairs, and yet he + married the princess! Yes, yes, that's the way of the world!” thought the + Pine Tree, and he believed it all, because it was such a nice man who told + the story. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well! who knows, perhaps I may fall downstairs, too, and so get a + princess!” And he looked forward with joy to the next day when he should + be decked out with lights and toys, fruits and tinsel. + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow I won't tremble!” thought the Pine Tree. “I will enjoy to the + full all my splendor! To-morrow I shall hear again the story of + Klumpy-Dumpy, and perhaps that of Ivedy-Avedy too.” And the whole night + the Tree stood still in deep thought. + </p> + <p> + In the morning the servant and the maid came in. + </p> + <p> + IV. IN THE ATTIC + </p> + <p> + “Now all the finery will begin again,” thought the Pine. But they dragged + him out of the room, and up the stairs into the attic; and here in a dark + corner, where no daylight could enter, they left him. “What's the meaning + of this?” thought the Tree. “What am I to do here? What shall I see and + hear now, I wonder?” And he leaned against the wall and stood and thought + and thought. And plenty of time he had, for days and nights passed, and + nobody came up; and when at last somebody did come, it was only to put + some great trunks in the corner. There stood the Tree quite hidden; it + seemed as if he had been entirely forgotten. + </p> + <p> + “'T is now winter out-of-doors!” thought the Tree. “The earth is hard and + covered with snow; men cannot plant me now; therefore I have been put up + here under cover till spring! How thoughtful that is! How good men are, + after all! If it were not so dark here, and so terribly lonely! Not even a + hare. Out there it was so pleasant in the woods, when the snow was on the + ground, and the hare leaped by; yes—even when he jumped over me; but + I did not like it then. It is terribly lonely here!” + </p> + <p> + “Squeak! squeak!” said a little Mouse at the same moment, peeping out of + his hole. And then another little one came. They snuffed about the Pine + Tree, and rustled among the branches. + </p> + <p> + “It is dreadfully cold,” said the little Mouse. “But for that, it would be + delightful here, old Pine, wouldn't it!” + </p> + <p> + “I am by no means old,” said the Pine Tree. “There are many a good deal + older than I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Where do you come from?” asked the Mice; “and what can you do?” They were + so very curious. “Tell us about the most beautiful spot on earth. Have you + been there? Were you ever in the larder, where cheeses lie on the shelves, + and hams hang from above; where one dances about on tallow candles; where + one goes in lean and comes out fat?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know that place,” said the Tree. “But I know the wood where the + sun shines, and where the little birds sing.” + </p> + <p> + And then he told his story from his youth up; and the little Mice had + never heard the like before; and they listened and said, “Well, to be + sure! How much you have seen! How happy you must have been!” + </p> + <p> + “I!” said the Pine Tree, and he thought over what he had himself told. + “Yes, really those were happy times.” And then he told about Christmas + Eve, when he was decked out with cakes and candles. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said the little Mice, “how lucky you have been, old Pine Tree!” + </p> + <p> + “I am not at all old,” said he. “I came from the wood this winter; I am in + my prime, and am only rather short of my age.” + </p> + <p> + “What delightful stories you know!” said the Mice: and the next night they + came with four other little Mice, who were to hear what the Tree had to + tell; and the more he told, the more plainly he remembered all himself; + and he thought: “That was a merry time! But it can come! it can come! + Klumpy-Dumpy fell down stairs, and yet he got a princess! Maybe I can get + a princess too!” And all of a sudden he thought of a nice little Birch + Tree growing out in the woods: to the Pine, that would be a really + charming princess. + </p> + <p> + “Who is Klumpy-Dumpy?” asked the little Mice. + </p> + <p> + So then the Pine Tree told the whole fairy tale, for he could remember + every single word of it; and the little Mice jumped for joy up to the very + top of the Tree. Next night two more Mice came, and on Sunday two Rats, + even; but they said the stories were not amusing, which vexed the little + Mice, because they, too, now began to think them not so very amusing + either. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know only that one story?” asked the Rats. + </p> + <p> + “Only that one!” answered the Tree. “I heard it on my happiest evening; + but I did not then know how happy I was.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a very stupid story! Don't you know one about bacon and tallow + candles? Can't you tell any larder-stories?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the Tree. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, then,” said the Rats; and they went home. + </p> + <p> + At last the little Mice stayed away also; and the Tree sighed: “After all, + it was very pleasant when the sleek little Mice sat round me and heard + what I told them. Now that too is over. But I will take good care to enjoy + myself when I am brought out again.” + </p> + <p> + But when was that to be? Why, it was one morning when there came a number + of people and set to work in the loft. The trunks were moved, the tree was + pulled out and thrown down; they knocked him upon the floor, but a man + drew him at once toward the stairs, where the daylight shone. + </p> + <p> + V. OUT OF DOORS AGAIN + </p> + <p> + “Now life begins again,” thought the Tree. He felt the fresh air, the + first sunbeam,—and now he was out in the courtyard. All passed so + quickly that the Tree quite forgot to look to himself, there was so much + going on around him. The court adjoined a garden, and all was in flower; + the roses hung over the fence, so fresh and smelling so sweetly; the + lindens were in blossom, the Swallows flew by, and said, + “Quirre-virre-vit! my husband is come!” But it was not the Pine Tree that + they meant. + </p> + <p> + “Now, I shall really live,” said he with joy, and spread out his branches; + dear! dear! they were all dry and yellow. It was in a corner among weeds + and nettles that he lay. The golden star of tinsel was still on top of the + Tree, and shone in the bright sunshine. + </p> + <p> + In the courtyard a few of the merry children were playing who had danced + at Christmas round the Tree, and were so glad at the sight of him. One of + the littlest ran and tore off the golden star. + </p> + <p> + “See what is still on the ugly old Christmas Tree!” said he, and he + trampled on the branches, so that they cracked under his feet. + </p> + <p> + And the Tree saw all the beauty of the flowers, and the freshness in the + garden; he saw himself, and he wished he had stayed in his dark corner in + the attic: he thought of his fresh youth in the wood, of the merry + Christmas Eve, and of the little Mice who had heard so gladly the story of + Klumpy-Dumpy. + </p> + <p> + “Gone! gone!” said the poor Tree. “Had I but been happy when I could be. + Gone! gone!” + </p> + <p> + And the gardener's boy came and chopped the Tree into small pieces; there + was a whole heap lying there. The wood flamed up finely under the large + brewing kettle, and it sighed so deeply! Each sigh was like a little shot. + So the children ran to where it lay and sat down before the fire, and + peeped in at the blaze, and shouted “Piff! paff!” But at every snap there + was a deep sigh. The Tree was thinking of summer days in the wood, and of + winter nights when the stars shone; it was thinking of Christmas Eve and + Klumpy-Dumpy, the only fairy tale it had heard and knew how to tell,—and + so the Tree burned out. + </p> + <p> + The boys played about in the court, and the youngest wore the gold star on + his breast which the Tree had worn on the happiest evening of his life. + Now, that was gone, the Tree was gone, and gone too was the story. All, + all was gone, and that's the way with all stories. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0112" id="link2H_4_0112"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO + </h2> + <h3> + BY FRANCES BROWNE (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Once upon a time there stood in the midst of a bleak moor, in the North + Country, a certain village. All its inhabitants were poor, for their + fields were barren, and they had little trade; but the poorest of them all + were two brothers called Scrub and Spare, who followed the cobbler's + craft. Their hut was built of clay and wattles. The door was low and + always open, for there was no window. The roof did not entirely keep out + the rain and the only thing comfortable was a wide fireplace, for which + the brothers could never find wood enough to make sufficient fire. There + they worked in most brotherly friendship, though with little + encouragement. + </p> + <p> + On one unlucky day a new cobbler arrived in the village. He had lived in + the capital city of the kingdom and, by his own account, cobbled for the + queen and the princesses. His awls were sharp, his lasts were new; he set + up his stall in a neat cottage with two windows. The villagers soon found + out that one patch of his would outwear two of the brothers'. In short, + all the mending left Scrub and Spare, and went to the new cobbler. + </p> + <p> + The season had been wet and cold, their barley did not ripen well, and the + cabbages never half-closed in the garden. So the brothers were poor that + winter, and when Christmas came they had nothing to feast on but a barley + loaf and a piece of rusty bacon. Worse than that, the snow was very deep + and they could get no firewood. + </p> + <p> + Their hut stood at the end of the village; beyond it spread the bleak + moor, now all white and silent. But that moor had once been a forest; + great roots of old trees were still to be found in it, loosened from the + soil and laid bare by the winds and rains. One of these, a rough, gnarled + log, lay hard by their door, the half of it above the snow, and Spare said + to his brother:— + </p> + <p> + “Shall we sit here cold on Christmas while the great root lies yonder? Let + us chop it up for firewood, the work will make us warm.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Scrub, “it's not right to chop wood on Christmas; besides, that + root is too hard to be broken with any hatchet.” + </p> + <p> + “Hard or not, we must have a fire,” replied Spare. “Come, brother, help me + in with it. Poor as we are there is nobody in the village will have such a + yule log as ours.” + </p> + <p> + Scrub liked a little grandeur, and, in hopes of having a fine yule log, + both brothers strained and strove with all their might till, between + pulling and pushing, the great old root was safe on the hearth, and + beginning to crackle and blaze with the red embers. + </p> + <p> + In high glee the cobblers sat down to their bread and bacon. The door was + shut, for there was nothing but cold moonlight and snow outside; but the + hut, strewn with fir boughs and ornamented with holly, looked cheerful as + the ruddy blaze flared up and rejoiced their hearts. + </p> + <p> + Then suddenly from out the blazing root they heard: “Cuckoo! cuckoo!” as + plain as ever the spring-bird's voice came over the moor on a May morning. + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” said Scrub, terribly frightened; “it is something bad!” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe not,” said Spare. + </p> + <p> + And out of the deep hole at the side of the root, which the fire had not + reached, flew a large, gray cuckoo, and lit on the table before them. Much + as the cobblers had been surprised, they were still more so when it said:— + </p> + <p> + “Good gentlemen, what season is this?” + </p> + <p> + “It's Christmas,” said Spare. + </p> + <p> + “Then a merry Christmas to you!” said the cuckoo. “I went to sleep in the + hollow of that old root one evening last summer, and never woke till the + heat of your fire made me think it was summer again. But now since you + have burned my lodging, let me stay in your hut till the spring comes + round,—I only want a hole to sleep in, and when I go on my travels + next summer be assured I will bring you some present for your trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Stay and welcome,” said Spare, while Scrub sat wondering if it were + something bad or not. + </p> + <p> + “I'll make you a good warm hole in the thatch,” said Spare. “But you must + be hungry after that long sleep,—here is a slice of barley bread. + Come help us to keep Christmas!” + </p> + <p> + The cuckoo ate up the slice, drank water from a brown jug, and flew into a + snug hole which Spare scooped for it in the thatch of the hut. + </p> + <p> + Scrub said he was afraid it wouldn't be lucky; but as it slept on and the + days passed he forgot his fears. + </p> + <p> + So the snow melted, the heavy rains came, the cold grew less, the days + lengthened, and one sunny morning the brothers were awakened by the cuckoo + shouting its own cry to let them know the spring had come. + </p> + <p> + “Now I'm going on my travels,” said the bird, “over the world to tell men + of the spring. There is no country where trees bud, or flowers bloom, that + I will not cry in before the year goes round. Give me another slice of + barley bread to help me on my journey, and tell me what present I shall + bring you at the twelvemonth's end.” + </p> + <p> + Scrub would have been angry with his brother for cutting so large a slice, + their store of barley being low, but his mind was occupied with what + present it would be most prudent to ask for. + </p> + <p> + “There are two trees hard by the well that lies at the world's end,” said + the cuckoo; “one of them is called the golden tree, for its leaves are all + of beaten gold. Every winter they fall into the well with a sound like + scattered coin, and I know not what becomes of them. As for the other, it + is always green like a laurel. Some call it the wise, and some the merry, + tree. Its leaves never fall, but they that get one of them keep a blithe + heart in spite of all misfortunes, and can make themselves as merry in a + hut as in a palace.” + </p> + <p> + “Good master cuckoo, bring me a leaf off that tree!” cried Spare. + </p> + <p> + “Now, brother, don't be a fool!” said Scrub; “think of the leaves of + beaten gold! Dear master cuckoo, bring me one of them!” + </p> + <p> + Before another word could be spoken the cuckoo had flown out of the open + door, and was shouting its spring cry over moor and meadow. + </p> + <p> + The brothers were poorer than ever that year. Nobody would send them a + single shoe to mend, and Scrub and Spare would have left the village but + for their barley-field and their cabbage-garden. They sowed their barley, + planted their cabbage, and, now that their trade was gone, worked in the + rich villagers' fields to make out a scanty living. + </p> + <p> + So the seasons came and passed; spring, summer, harvest, and winter + followed each other as they have done from the beginning. At the end of + the latter Scrub and Spare had grown so poor and ragged that their old + neighbors forgot to invite them to wedding feasts or merrymakings, and the + brothers thought the cuckoo had forgotten them, too, when at daybreak on + the first of April they heard a hard beak knocking at their door, and a + voice crying:— + </p> + <p> + “Cuckoo! cuckoo! Let me in with my presents!” + </p> + <p> + Spare ran to open the door, and in came the cuckoo, carrying on one side + of its bill a golden leaf larger than that of any tree in the North + Country; and in the other side of its bill, one like that of the common + laurel, only it had a fresher green. + </p> + <p> + “Here,” it said, giving the gold to Scrub and the green to Spare, “it is a + long carriage from the world's end. Give me a slice of barley bread, for I + must tell the North Country that the spring has come.” + </p> + <p> + Scrub did not grudge the thickness of that slice, though it was cut from + their last loaf. So much gold had never been in the cobbler's hands + before, and he could not help exulting over his brother. + </p> + <p> + “See the wisdom of my choice,” he said, holding up the large leaf of gold. + “As for yours, as good might be plucked from any hedge, I wonder a + sensible bird would carry the like so far.” + </p> + <p> + “Good master cobbler,” cried the cuckoo, finishing its slice, “your + conclusions are more hasty than courteous. If your brother is disappointed + this time, I go on the same journey every year, and for your hospitable + entertainment will think it no trouble to bring each of you whichever leaf + you desire.” + </p> + <p> + “Darling cuckoo,” cried Scrub, “bring me a golden one.” + </p> + <p> + And Spare, looking up from the green leaf on which he gazed as though it + were a crown-jewel, said:— + </p> + <p> + “Be sure to bring me one from the merry tree.” + </p> + <p> + And away flew the cuckoo. + </p> + <p> + “This is the feast of All Fools, and it ought to be your birthday,” said + Scrub. “Did ever man fling away such an opportunity of getting rich? Much + good your merry leaves will do in the midst of rags and poverty!” + </p> + <p> + But Spare laughed at him, and answered with quaint old proverbs concerning + the cares that come with gold, till Scrub, at length getting angry, vowed + his brother was not fit to live with a respectable man; and taking his + lasts, his awls, and his golden leaf, he left the wattle hut, and went to + tell the villagers. + </p> + <p> + They were astonished at the folly of Spare, and charmed with Scrub's good + sense, particularly when he showed them the golden leaf, and told that the + cuckoo would bring him one every spring. + </p> + <p> + The new cobbler immediately took him into partnership; the greatest people + sent him their shoes to mend. Fairfeather, a beautiful village maiden, + smiled graciously upon him; and in the course of that summer they were + married, with a grand wedding feast, at which the whole village danced + except Spare, who was not invited, because the bride could not bear his + low-mindedness, and his brother thought him a disgrace to the family. + </p> + <p> + As for Scrub he established himself with Fairfeather in a cottage close by + that of the new cobbler, and quite as fine. There he mended shoes to + everybody's satisfaction, had a scarlet coat and a fat goose for dinner on + holidays. Fairfeather, too, had a crimson gown, and fine blue ribbons; but + neither she nor Scrub was content, for to buy this grandeur the golden + leaf had to be broken and parted With piece by piece, so the last morsel + was gone before the cuckoo came with another. + </p> + <p> + Spare lived on in the old hut, and worked in the cabbage-garden. (Scrub + had got the barley-field because he was the elder.) Every day his coat + grew more ragged, and the hut more weather-beaten; but people remarked + that he never looked sad or sour. And the wonder was that, from the time + any one began to keep his company, he or she grew kinder, happier, and + content. + </p> + <p> + Every first of April the cuckoo came tapping at their doors with the + golden leaf for Scrub, and the green for Spare. Fairfeather would have + entertained it nobly with wheaten bread and honey, for she had some notion + of persuading it to bring two golden leaves instead of one; but the cuckoo + flew away to eat barley bread with Spare, saying it was not fit company + for fine people, and liked the old hut where it slept so snugly from + Christmas till spring. + </p> + <p> + Scrub spent the golden leaves, and remained always discontented; and Spare + kept the merry ones. + </p> + <p> + I do not know how many years passed in this manner, when a certain great + lord, who owned that village, came to the neighborhood. His castle stood + on the moor. It was ancient and strong, with high towers and a deep moat. + All the country as far as one could see from the highest turret belonged + to its lord; but he had not been there for twenty years, and would not + have come then only he was melancholy. And there he lived in a very bad + temper. The servants said nothing would please him, and the villagers put + on their worst clothes lest he should raise their rents. + </p> + <p> + But one day in the harvest-time His Lordship chanced to meet Spare + gathering water-cresses at a meadow stream, and fell into talk with the + cobbler. How it was nobody could tell, but from that hour the great lord + cast away his melancholy. He forgot all his woes, and went about with a + noble train, hunting, fishing, and making merry in his hall, where all + travelers were entertained, and all the poor were welcome. + </p> + <p> + This strange story spread through the North Country, and great company + came to the cobbler's hut,—rich men who had lost their money, poor + men who had lost their friends, beauties who had grown old, wits who had + gone out of fashion,—all came to talk with Spare, and, whatever + their troubles had been, all went home merry. + </p> + <p> + The rich gave him presents, the poor gave him thanks. Spare's coat ceased + to be ragged, he had bacon with his cabbage, and the villagers began to + think there was some sense in him. + </p> + <p> + By this time his fame had reached the capital city, and even the court. + There were a great many discontented people there; and the king had lately + fallen into ill humor because a neighboring princess, with seven islands + for her dowry, would not marry his eldest son. + </p> + <p> + So a royal messenger was sent to Spare, with a velvet mantle, a diamond + ring, and a command that he should repair to court immediately. + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow is the first of April,” said Spare, “and I will go with you two + hours after sunrise.” + </p> + <p> + The messenger lodged all night at the castle, and the cuckoo came at + sunrise with the merry leaf. + </p> + <p> + “Court is a fine place,” it said, when the cobbler told it he was going, + “but I cannot come there; they would lay snares and catch me; so be + careful of the leaves I have brought you, and give me a farewell slice of + barley bread.” + </p> + <p> + Spare was sorry to part with the cuckoo, little as he had of its company, + but he gave it a slice which would have broken Scrub's heart in former + times, it was so thick and large. And having sewed up the leaves in the + lining of his leather doublet, he set out with the messenger on his way to + court. + </p> + <p> + His coming caused great surprise there. Everybody wondered what the king + could see in such a common-looking man; but scarcely had His Majesty + conversed with him half an hour, when the princess and her seven islands + were forgotten and orders given that a feast for all comers should be + spread in the banquet hall. + </p> + <p> + The princes of the blood, the great lords and ladies, the ministers of + state, after that discoursed with Spare, and the more they talked the + lighter grew their hearts, so that such changes had never been seen at + court. + </p> + <p> + The lords forgot their spites and the ladies their envies, the princes and + ministers made friends among themselves, and the judges showed no favor. + </p> + <p> + As for Spare, he had a chamber assigned him in the palace, and a seat at + the king's table. One sent him rich robes, and another costly jewels; but + in the midst of all his grandeur he still wore the leathern doublet, and + continued to live at the king's court, happy and honored, and making all + others merry and content. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0113" id="link2H_4_0113"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CHRISTMAS FAIRY OF STRASBURG + </h2> + <h3> + A GERMAN FOLK-TALE + </h3> + <p> + BY J. STIRLING COYNE (ADAPTED) + </p> + <p> + Once, long ago, there lived near the ancient city of Strasburg, on the + river Rhine, a young and handsome count, whose name was Otto. As the years + flew by he remained unwed, and never so much as cast a glance at the fair + maidens of the country round; for this reason people began to call him + “Stone-Heart.” + </p> + <p> + It chanced that Count Otto, on one Christmas Eve, ordered that a great + hunt should take place in the forest surrounding his castle. He and his + guests and his many retainers rode forth, and the chase became more and + more exciting. It led through thickets, and over pathless tracts of + forest, until at length Count Otto found himself separated from his + companions. + </p> + <p> + He rode on by himself until he came to a spring of clear, bubbling water, + known to the people around as the “Fairy Well.” Here Count Otto + dismounted. He bent over the spring and began to lave his hands in the + sparkling tide, but to his wonder he found that though the weather was + cold and frosty, the water was warm and delightfully caressing. He felt a + glow of joy pass through his veins, and, as he plunged his hands deeper, + he fancied that his right hand was grasped by another, soft and small, + which gently slipped from his finger the gold ring he always wore. And, + lo! when he drew out his hand, the gold ring was gone. + </p> + <p> + Full of wonder at this mysterious event, the count mounted his horse and + returned to his castle, resolving in his mind that the very next day he + would have the Fairy Well emptied by his servants. + </p> + <p> + He retired to his room, and, throwing himself just as he was upon his + couch, tried to sleep; but the strangeness of the adventure kept him + restless and wakeful. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he heard the hoarse baying of the watch-hounds in the courtyard, + and then the creaking of the drawbridge, as though it were being lowered. + Then came to his ear the patter of many small feet on the stone staircase, + and next he heard indistinctly the sound of light footsteps in the chamber + adjoining his own. + </p> + <p> + Count Otto sprang from his couch, and as he did so there sounded a strain + of delicious music, and the door of his chamber was flung open. Hurrying + into the next room, he found himself in the midst of numberless Fairy + beings, clad in gay and sparkling robes. They paid no heed to him, but + began to dance, and laugh, and sing, to the sound of mysterious music. + </p> + <p> + In the center of the apartment stood a splendid Christmas Tree, the first + ever seen in that country. Instead of toys and candles there hung on its + lighted boughs diamond stars, pearl necklaces, bracelets of gold + ornamented with colored jewels, aigrettes of rubies and sapphires, silken + belts embroidered with Oriental pearls, and daggers mounted in gold and + studded with the rarest gems. The whole tree swayed, sparkled, and + glittered in the radiance of its many lights. + </p> + <p> + Count Otto stood speechless, gazing at all this wonder, when suddenly the + Fairies stopped dancing and fell back, to make room for a lady of dazzling + beauty who came slowly toward him. + </p> + <p> + She wore on her raven-black tresses a golden diadem set with jewels. Her + hair flowed down upon a robe of rosy satin and creamy velvet. She + stretched out two small, white hands to the count and addressed him in + sweet, alluring tones:— + </p> + <p> + “Dear Count Otto,” said she, “I come to return your Christmas visit. I am + Ernestine, the Queen of the Fairies. I bring you something you lost in the + Fairy Well.” + </p> + <p> + And as she spoke she drew from her bosom a golden casket, set with + diamonds, and placed it in his hands. He opened it eagerly and found + within his lost gold ring. + </p> + <p> + Carried away by the wonder of it all, and overcome by an irresistible + impulse, the count pressed the Fairy Ernestine to his heart, while she, + holding him by the hand, drew him into the magic mazes of the dance. The + mysterious music floated through the room, and the rest of that Fairy + company circled and whirled around the Fairy Queen and Count Otto, and + then gradually dissolved into a mist of many colors, leaving the count and + his beautiful guest alone. + </p> + <p> + Then the young man, forgetting all his former coldness toward the maidens + of the country round about, fell on his knees before the Fairy and + besought her to become his bride. At last she consented on the condition + that he should never speak the word “death” in her presence. + </p> + <p> + The next day the wedding of Count Otto and Ernestine, Queen of the + Fairies, was celebrated with great pomp and magnificence, and the two + continued to live happily for many years. + </p> + <p> + Now it happened on a time, that the count and his Fairy wife were to hunt + in the forest around the castle. The horses were saddled and bridled, and + standing at the door, the company waited, and the count paced the hall in + great impatience; but still the Fairy Ernestine tarried long in her + chamber. At length she appeared at the door of the hall, and the count + addressed her in anger. + </p> + <p> + “You have kept us waiting so long,” he cried, “that you would make a good + messenger to send for Death!” + </p> + <p> + Scarcely had he spoken the forbidden and fatal word, when the Fairy, + uttering a wild cry, vanished from his sight. In vain Count Otto, + overwhelmed with grief and remorse, searched the castle and the Fairy + Well, no trace could he find of his beautiful, lost wife but the imprint + of her delicate hand set in the stone arch above the castle gate. + </p> + <p> + Years passed by, and the Fairy Ernestine did not return. The count + continued to grieve. Every Christmas Eve he set up a lighted tree in the + room where he had first met the Fairy, hoping in vain that she would + return to him. + </p> + <p> + Time passed and the count died. The castle fell into ruins. But to this + day may be seen above the massive gate, deeply sunken in the stone arch, + the impress of a small and delicate hand. + </p> + <p> + And such, say the good folk of Strasburg, was the origin of the Christmas + Tree. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0114" id="link2H_4_0114"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE THREE PURSES + </h2> + <h3> + A LEGEND + </h3> + <p> + BY WILLIAM S. WALSH (ADAPTED) + </p> + <p> + When Saint Nicholas was Bishop of Myra, there were among his people three + beautiful maidens, daughters of a nobleman. Their father was so poor that + he could not afford to give them dowries, and as in that land no maid + might marry without a dowry, so these three maidens could not wed the + youths who loved them. + </p> + <p> + At last the father became so very poor that he no longer had money with + which to buy food or clothes for his daughters, and he was overcome by + shame and sorrow. As for the daughters they wept continually, for they + were both cold and hungry. + </p> + <p> + One day Saint Nicholas heard of the sad state of this noble family. So at + night, when the maidens were asleep, and the father was watching, + sorrowful and lonely, the good saint took a handful of gold, and, tying it + in a purse, set off for the nobleman's house. Creeping to the open window + he threw the purse into the chamber, so that it fell on the bed of the + sleeping maidens. + </p> + <p> + The father picked up the purse, and when he opened it and saw the gold, he + rejoiced greatly, and awakened his daughters. He gave most of the gold to + his eldest child for a dowry, and thus she was enabled to wed the young + man whom she loved. + </p> + <p> + A few days later Saint Nicholas filled another purse with gold, and, as + before, went by night to the nobleman's house, and tossed the purse + through the open window. Thus the second daughter was enabled to marry the + young man whom she loved. + </p> + <p> + Now, the nobleman felt very grateful to the unknown one who threw purses + of gold into his room and he longed to know who his benefactor was and to + thank him. So the next night he watched beneath the open window. And when + all was dark, lo! good Saint Nicholas came for the third time, carrying a + silken purse filled with gold, and as he was about to throw it on the + youngest maiden's bed, the nobleman caught him by his robe, crying:— + </p> + <p> + “Ohs good Saint Nicholas! why do you hide yourself thus?” + </p> + <p> + And he kissed the saint's hands and feet, but Saint Nicholas, overcome + with confusion at having his good deed discovered, begged the nobleman to + tell no man what had happened. + </p> + <p> + Thus the nobleman's third daughter was enabled to marry the young man whom + she loved; and she and her father and her two sisters lived happily for + the remainder of their lives. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0115" id="link2H_4_0115"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE THUNDER OAK + </h2> + <h3> + A SCANDINAVIAN LEGEND + </h3> + <p> + WILLIAM S. WALSH AND OTHER SOURCES + </p> + <p> + When the heathen raged through the forests of the ancient Northland there + grew a giant tree branching with huge limbs toward the clouds. It was the + Thunder Oak of the war-god Thor. + </p> + <p> + Thither, under cover of night, heathen priests were wont to bring their + victims—both men and beasts—and slay them upon the altar of + the thunder-god. There in the darkness was wrought many an evil deed, + while human blood was poured forth and watered the roots of that gloomy + tree, from whose branches depended the mistletoe, the fateful plant that + sprang from the blood-fed veins of the oak. So gloomy and terror-ridden + was the spot on which grew the tree that no beasts of field or forest + would lodge beneath its dark branches, nor would birds nest or perch among + its gnarled limbs. + </p> + <p> + Long, long ago, on a white Christmas Eve, Thor's priests held their winter + rites beneath the Thunder Oak. Through the deep snow of the dense forest + hastened throngs of heathen folk, all intent on keeping the mystic feast + of the mighty Thor. In the hush of the night the folk gathered in the + glade where stood the tree. Closely they pressed around the great + altar-stone under the overhanging boughs where stood the white-robed + priests. Clearly shone the moonlight on all. + </p> + <p> + Then from the altar flashed upward the sacrificial flames, casting their + lurid glow on the straining faces of the human victims awaiting the blow + of the priest's knife. + </p> + <p> + But the knife never fell, for from the silent avenues of the dark forest + came the good Saint Winfred and his people. Swiftly the saint drew from + his girdle a shining axe. Fiercely he smote the Thunder Oak, hewing a deep + gash in its trunk. And while the heathen folk gazed in horror and wonder, + the bright blade of the axe circled faster and faster around Saint + Winfred's head, and the flakes of wood flew far and wide from the + deepening cut in the body of the tree. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly there was heard overhead the sound of a mighty, rushing wind. A + whirling blast struck the tree. It gripped the oak from its foundations. + Backward it fell like a tower, groaning as it split into four pieces. + </p> + <p> + But just behind it, unharmed by the ruin, stood a young fir tree, pointing + its green spire to heaven. + </p> + <p> + Saint Winfred dropped his axe, and turned to speak to the people. Joyously + his voice rang out through the crisp, winter air:— + </p> + <p> + “This little tree, a young child of the forest, shall be your holy tree + to-night. It is the tree of peace, for your houses are built of fir. It is + the sign of endless life, for its leaves are forever green. See how it + points upward to heaven! Let this be called the tree of the Christ Child. + Gather about it, not in the wildwood, but in your own homes. There it will + shelter no deeds of blood, but loving gifts and rites of kindness. So + shall the peace of the White Christ reign in your hearts!” + </p> + <p> + And with songs of joy the multitude of heathen folk took up the little fir + tree and bore it to the house of their chief, and there with good will and + peace they kept the holy Christmastide. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0116" id="link2H_4_0116"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CHRISTMAS THORN OF GLASTONBURY + </h2> + <h3> + A LEGEND OF ANCIENT BRITAIN + </h3> + <p> + ADAPTED FROM WILLIAM OF MALMESBURY AND OTHER SOURCES + </p> + <p> + There is a golden Christmas legend and it relates how Joseph of Arimathea—that + good man and just, who laid our Lord in his own sepulcher, was persecuted + by Pontius Pilate, and how he fled from Jerusalem carrying with him the + Holy Grail hidden beneath a cloth of samite, mystical and white. + </p> + <p> + For many moons he wandered, leaning on his staff cut from a white-thorn + bush. He passed over raging seas and dreary wastes, he wandered through + trackless forests, climbed rugged mountains, and forded many floods. At + last he came to Gaul where the Apostle Philip was preaching the glad + tidings to the heathen. And there Joseph abode for a little space. + </p> + <p> + Now, upon a night while Joseph lay asleep in his hut, he was wakened by a + radiant light. And as he gazed with wondering eyes he saw an angel + standing by his couch, wrapped in a cloud of incense. + </p> + <p> + “Joseph of Arimathea,” said the angel, “cross thou over into Britain and + preach the glad tidings to King Arvigarus. And there, where a Christmas + miracle shall come to pass, do thou build the first Christian church in + that land.” + </p> + <p> + And while Joseph lay perplexed and wondering in his heart what answer he + should make, the angel vanished from his sight. + </p> + <p> + Then Joseph left his hut and calling the Apostle Philip, gave him the + angel's message. And, when morning dawned, Philip sent him on his way, + accompanied by eleven chosen followers. To the water's side they went, and + embarking in a little ship, they came unto the coasts of Britain. + </p> + <p> + And they were met there by the heathen who carried them before Arvigarus + their king. To him and to his people did Joseph of Arimathea preach the + glad tidings; but the king's heart, though moved, was not convinced. + Nevertheless he gave to Joseph and his followers Avalon, the happy isle, + the isle of the blessed, and he bade them depart straightway and build + there an altar to their God. + </p> + <p> + And a wonderful gift was this same Avalon, sometimes called the Island of + Apples, and also known to the people of the land as Ynis-witren, the Isle + of Glassy Waters. Beautiful and peaceful was it. Deep it lay in the midst + of a green valley, and the balmy breezes fanned its apple orchards, and + scattered afar the sweet fragrance of rosy blossoms or ripened fruit. Soft + grew the green grass beneath the feet. The smooth waves gently lapped the + shore, and water-lilies floated on the surface of the tide; while in the + blue sky above sailed the fleecy clouds. + </p> + <p> + And it was on the holy Christmas Eve that Joseph and his companions + reached the Isle of Avalon. With them they carried the Holy Grail hidden + beneath its cloth of snow-white samite. Heavily they toiled up the steep + ascent of the hill called Weary-All. And when they reached the top Joseph + thrust his thorn-staff into the ground. + </p> + <p> + And, lo! a miracle! the thorn-staff put forth roots, sprouted and budded, + and burst into a mass of white and fragrant flowers! And on the spot where + the thorn had bloomed, there Joseph built the first Christian church in + Britain. And he made it “wattled all round” of osiers gathered from the + water's edge. And in the chapel they placed the Holy Grail. + </p> + <p> + And so, it is said, ever since at Glastonbury Abbey—the name by + which that Avalon is known to-day—on Christmas Eve the white thorn + buds and blooms. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0117" id="link2H_4_0117"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE THREE KINGS OF COLOGNE + </h2> + <h3> + A LEGEND OF THE MIDDLE AGES + </h3> + <p> + BY JOHN OF HILDESHEIM-MODERNIZED BY H. S. MORRIS (ADAPTED) THE STAR + </p> + <p> + Now, when the Children of Israel were gone out of Egypt, and had won and + made subject to them Jerusalem and all the land lying about, there was in + the Kingdom of Ind a tall hill called the Hill of Vaws, or the Hill of + Victory. On this hill were stationed sentinels of Ind, who watched day and + night against the Children of Israel, and afterward against the Romans. + </p> + <p> + And if an enemy approached, the keepers of the Hill of Vaws made a great + fire to warn the inhabitants of the land so that the men might make ready + to defend themselves. + </p> + <p> + Now in the time when Balaam prophesied of the Star that should betoken the + birth of Christ, all the great lords and the people of Ind and in the East + desired greatly to see this Star of which he spake; and they gave gifts to + the keepers of the Hill of Vaws, and bade them, if they saw by night or by + day any star in the air, that had not been seen aforetime, that they, the + keepers, should send anon word to the people of Ind. + </p> + <p> + And thus was it that for so long a time the fame of this Star was borne + throughout the lands of the East. And the more the Star was sought for, + and the more its fame increased, so much the more all the people of the + Land of Ind desired to see it. So they ordained twelve of the wisest and + greatest of the clerks of astronomy, that were in all that country about, + and gave them great hire to keep watch upon the Hill of Vaws for the Star + that was prophesied of Balaam. + </p> + <p> + Now, when Christ was born in Bethlehem of Judea, His Star began to rise in + the manner of a sun, bright shining. It ascended above the Hill of Vaws, + and all that day in the highest air it abode without moving, insomuch that + when the sun was hot and most high there was no difference in shining + betwixt them. + </p> + <p> + But when the day of the nativity was passed the Star ascended up into the + firmament, and it had right many long streaks and beams, more burning and + brighter than a brand of fire; and, as an eagle flying and beating the air + with his wings, right so the streaks and beams of the Star stirred about. + </p> + <p> + Then all the people, both man and woman, of all that country about when + they saw this marvelous Star, were full of wonder thereat; yet they knew + well that it was the Star that was prophesied of Balaam, and long time was + desired of all the people in that country. + </p> + <p> + Now, when the three worshipful kings, who at that time reigned in Ind, + Chaldea, and Persia, were informed by the astronomers of this Star, they + were right glad that they had grace to see the Star in their days. + </p> + <p> + Wherefore these three worshipful kings, Melchior, Balthazar, and Jasper + (in the same hour the Star appeared to all three), though each of them was + far from the other, and none knew of the others' purpose, decided to go + and seek and worship the Lord and King of the Jews, that was new born, as + the appearance of the Star announced. + </p> + <p> + So each king prepared great and rich gifts, and trains of mules, camels, + and horses charged with treasure, and together with a great multitude of + people they set forth on their journeys. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0118" id="link2H_4_0118"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CHILD + </h2> + <p> + Now, when these three worshipful kings were passed forth out of their + kingdoms, the Star went before each king and his people. When they stood + still and rested, the Star stood still; and when they went forward again, + the Star always went before them in virtue and strength and gave light all + the way. + </p> + <p> + And, as it is written, in the time that Christ was born, there was peace + in all the world, wherefore in all the cities and towns through which they + went there was no gate shut neither by night nor by day; and all the + people of those same cities and towns marveled wonderfully as they saw + kings and vast multitudes go by in great haste; but they knew not what + they were, nor whence they came, nor whither they should go. + </p> + <p> + Furthermore these three kings rode forth over hills, waters, valleys, + plains, and other divers and perilous places without hindrance, for all + the way seemed to them plain and even. And they never took shelter by + night nor by day, nor ever rested, nor did their horses and other beasts + ever eat or drink till they had come to Bethlehem. And all this time it + did seem to them as one day. + </p> + <p> + But when the three blessed kings had come near to Jerusalem, then a great + cloud of darkness hid the Star from their sight. And when Melchior and his + people were come fast by the city, they abode in fog and darkness. Then + came Balthazar, and he abode under the same cloud near unto Melchior. + Thereupon appeared Jasper with all his host. + </p> + <p> + So these three glorious kings, each with his host and burdens and beasts, + met together in the highway without the city of Jerusalem. And, + notwithstanding that none of them ever before had seen the other, nor knew + him, nor had heard of his coming, yet at their meeting each one with great + reverence and joy kissed the other. So afterward, when they had spoken + together and each had told his purpose and the cause of his journey, they + were much more glad and fervent. So they rode forth, and at the uprising + of the sun, they came into Jerusalem. And yet the Star appeared not. + </p> + <p> + So then these three worshipful kings, when they were come into the city, + asked of the people concerning the Child that was born; and when Herod + heard this he was troubled and all Jerusalem with him, and he privately + summoned to him these three kings and learned of them the time when the + Star appeared. He then sent them forth, bidding them find the young Child + and return to him. + </p> + <p> + Now when these three kings were passed out of Jerusalem the Star appeared + to them again as it did erst, and went before them till they were come to + Bethlehem. + </p> + <p> + Now, the nearer the kings came to the place where Christ was born, the + brighter shined the Star, and they entered Bethlehem the sixth hour of the + day. And they rode through the streets till they came before a little + house. There the Star stood still, and then descended and shone with so + great a light that the little house was full of radiance; till anon the + Star went upward again into the air, and stood still always above the same + place. + </p> + <p> + And the three kings went into the little house and found the Child with + his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him, and offered him gifts. + </p> + <p> + And you shall understand that these three kings had brought great gifts + from their own lands, rich ornaments and divers golden vessels, and many + jewels and precious stones, and both gold and silver,—these they had + brought to offer to the King of the Jews. But when they found the Lord in + a little-house, in poor clothes, and when they saw that the Star gave so + great and holy a light in all the place that it seemed as though they + stood in a furnace of fire, then were they so sore afraid, that of all the + rich jewels and ornaments they had brought with them, they chose from + their treasures what came first to their hands. For Melchior took a round + apple of gold in his hand, and thirty gilt pennies, and these he offered + unto our Lord; and Balthazar took out of his treasury incense; and Jasper + took out myrrh, and that he offered with weeping and tears. + </p> + <p> + And now after these three kings had worshiped the Lord, they abode in + Bethlehem for a little space, and as they abode, there came a command to + them, in their sleep, that they should not return to Herod; and so by + another way they went home to their kingdoms. But the Star that had gone + before appeared no more. + </p> + <p> + So these three kings, who had suddenly met together in the highway before + Jerusalem, went home together with great joy and honor. And when, after + many days' journey over perilous places, they had come to the Hill of + Vaws, they made there a fair chapel in worship of the Child they had + sought. Also they agreed to meet together at the same place once in the + year, and they ordained that the Hill of Vaws should be the place of their + burial. + </p> + <p> + So when the three worshipful kings had done what they would, they took + leave of each other, and each one with his people rode to his own land + rejoicing. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0119" id="link2H_4_0119"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + HOW THEY CAME TO COLOGNE + </h2> + <p> + Now, after many years, a little before the feast of Christmas, there + appeared a wonderful Star above the cities where these three kings dwelt, + and they knew thereby that their time was come when they should pass from + earth. Then with one consent they built, at the Hill of Vaws, a fair and + large tomb, and there the three Holy Kings, Melchior, Balthazar, and + Jasper died, and were buried in the same tomb by their sorrowing people. + </p> + <p> + Now after much time had passed away, Queen Helen, the mother of the + Emperor Constantine, began to think greatly of the bodies of these three + kings, and she arrayed herself, and, accompanied by many attendants, went + into the Land of Ind. + </p> + <p> + And you shall understand that after she had found the bodies of Melchior, + Balthazar, and Jasper, Queen Helen put them into one chest and ornamented + it with great riches, and she brought them into Constantinople, with joy + and reverence, and laid them in a church that is called Saint Sophia; and + this church the Emperor Constantine did make,—he alone, with a + little child, set up all the marble pillars thereof. + </p> + <p> + Now, after the death of the Emperor Constantine a persecution against the + Christian faith arose, and in this persecution the bodies of the three + worshipful kings were set at naught. Then came the Emperor Mauricius of + Rome, and, through his counsel, the bodies of these three kings were + carried to Italy, and there they were laid in a fair church in the city of + Milan. + </p> + <p> + Then afterward, in the process of time, the city of Milan rebelled against + the Emperor Frederick the First, and he, being sore beset, sent to + Rainald, Archbishop of Cologne, asking for help. + </p> + <p> + This Archbishop with his army did take the city of Milan, and delivered it + to the Emperor. And for this service did the Emperor grant, at the + Archbishop's great entreaty, that he should carry forth to Cologne the + bodies of the three blessed kings. + </p> + <p> + Then the Archbishop, with great solemnity and in procession, did carry + forth from the city of Milan the bodies of the three kings, and brought + them unto Cologne and there placed them in the fair church of Saint Peter. + And all the people of the country roundabout, with all the reverence they + might, received these relics, and there in the city of Cologne they are + kept and beholden of all manner of nations unto this day. + </p> + <p> + Thus endeth the legend of these three blessed kings,—Melchior, + Balthazar, and Jasper. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0120" id="link2H_4_0120"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ARBOR DAY + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0121" id="link2H_4_0121"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE LITTLE TREE THAT LONGED FOR OTHER LEAVES + </h2> + <h3> + BY FRIEDRICH RUCHERT (TRANSLATED) + </h3> + <p> + There was a little tree that stood in the woods through both good and + stormy weather, and it was covered from top to bottom with needles instead + of leaves. The needles were sharp and prickly, so the little tree said to + itself:— + </p> + <p> + “All my tree comrades have beautiful green leaves, and I have only sharp + needles. No one will touch me. If I could have a wish I would ask for + leaves of pure gold.” + </p> + <p> + When night came the little tree fell asleep, and, lo! in the morning it + woke early and found itself covered with glistening, golden leaves. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ah!” said the little tree, “how grand I am! No other tree in the + woods is dressed in gold.” + </p> + <p> + But at evening time there came a peddler with a great sack and a long + beard. He saw the glitter of the golden leaves. He picked them all and + hurried away leaving the little tree cold and bare. + </p> + <p> + “Alas! alas!” cried the little tree in sorrow; “all my golden leaves are + gone! I am ashamed to stand among the other trees that have such beautiful + foliage. If I only had another wish I would ask for leaves of glass.” + </p> + <p> + Then the little tree fell asleep, and when it woke early, it found itself + covered with bright and shining leaves of glass. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said the little tree, “I am happy. No tree in the woods glistens + like me.” + </p> + <p> + But there came a fierce storm-wind driving through the woods. It struck + the glass, and in a moment all the shining leaves lay shattered on the + ground. + </p> + <p> + “My leaves, my glass leaves!” moaned the little tree; “they lie broken in + the dust, while all the other trees are still dressed in their beautiful + foliage. Oh! if I had another wish I would ask for green leaves.” + </p> + <p> + Then the little tree slept again, and in the morning it was covered with + fresh, green foliage. And it laughed merrily, and said: “Now, I need not + be ashamed any more. I am like my comrades of the woods.” + </p> + <p> + But along came a mother-goat, looking for grass and herbs for herself and + her young ones. She saw the crisp, new leaves; and she nibbled, and + nibbled, and nibbled them all away, and she ate up both stems and tender + shoots, till the little tree stood bare. + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” cried the little tree in anguish, “I want no more leaves, neither + gold ones nor glass ones, nor green and red and yellow ones! If I could + only have my needles once more, I would never complain again.” + </p> + <p> + And sorrowfully the little tree fell asleep, but when it saw itself in the + morning sunshine, it laughed and laughed and laughed. And all the other + trees laughed, too, but the little tree did not care. Why did they laugh? + Because in the night all its needles had come again! You may see this for + yourself. Just go into the woods and look, but do not touch the little + tree. Why not? BECAUSE IT PRICKS. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0122" id="link2H_4_0122"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WHY THE EVERGREEN TREES NEVER LOSE THEIR LEAVES + </h2> + <h3> + BY FLORENCE HOLBROOK + </h3> + <p> + Winter was coming, and the birds had flown far to the south, where the air + was warm and they could find berries to eat. One little bird had broken + its wing and could not fly with the others. It was alone in the cold world + of frost and snow. The forest looked warm, and it made its way to the + trees as well as it could, to ask for help. + </p> + <p> + First it came to a birch tree. “Beautiful birch tree,” it said, “my wing + is broken, and my friends have flown away. May I live among your branches + till they come back to me?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed,” answered the birch tree, drawing her fair green leaves away. + “We of the great forest have our own birds to help. I can do nothing for + you.” + </p> + <p> + “The birch is not very strong,” said the little bird to itself, “and it + might be that she could not hold me easily. I will ask the oak.” So the + bird said: “Great oak tree, you are so strong, will you not let me live on + your boughs till my friends come back in the springtime?” + </p> + <p> + “In the springtime!” cried the oak. “That is a long way off. How do I know + what you might do in all that time? Birds are always looking for something + to eat, and you might even eat up some of my acorns.” + </p> + <p> + “It may be that the willow will be kind to me,” thought the bird, and it + said: “Gentle willow, my wing is broken, and I could not fly to the south + with the other birds. May I live on your branches till the springtime?” + </p> + <p> + The willow did not look gentle then, for she drew herself up proudly and + said: “Indeed, I do not know you, and we willows never talk to people whom + we do not know. Very likely there are trees somewhere that will take in + strange birds. Leave me at once.” + </p> + <p> + The poor little bird did not know what to do. Its wing was not yet strong, + but it began to fly away as well as it could. Before it had gone far a + voice was heard. “Little bird,” it said, “where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I do not know,” answered the bird sadly. “I am very cold.” + </p> + <p> + “Come right here, then,” said the friendly spruce tree, for it was her + voice that had called. + </p> + <p> + “You shall live on my warmest branch all winter if you choose.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you really let me?” asked the little bird eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I will,” answered the kind-hearted spruce tree. “If your friends + have flown away, it is time for the trees to help you. Here is the branch + where my leaves are thickest and softest.” + </p> + <p> + “My branches are not very thick,” said the friendly pine tree, “but I am + big and strong, and I can keep the North Wind from you and the spruce.” + </p> + <p> + “I can help, too,” said a little juniper tree. “I can give you berries all + winter long, and every bird knows that juniper berries are good.” + </p> + <p> + So the spruce gave the lonely little bird a home; the pine kept the cold + North Wind away from it; and the juniper gave it berries to eat. The other + trees looked on and talked together wisely. + </p> + <p> + “I would not have strange birds on my boughs,” said the birch. + </p> + <p> + “I shall not give my acorns away for any one,” said the oak. + </p> + <p> + “I never have anything to do with strangers,” said the willow, and the + three trees drew their leaves closely about them. + </p> + <p> + In the morning all those shining, green leaves lay on the ground, for a + cold North Wind had come in the night, and every leaf that it touched fell + from the tree. + </p> + <p> + “May I touch every leaf in the forest?” asked the wind in its frolic. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the Frost King. “The trees that have been kind to the little + bird with the broken wing may keep their leaves.” + </p> + <p> + This is why the leaves of the spruce, the pine, and the juniper are always + green. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0123" id="link2H_4_0123"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WHY THE ASPEN QUIVERS + </h2> + <h3> + OLD LEGEND + </h3> + <p> + Long, long ago, so the legend says, when Joseph and Mary and the Holy Babe + fled out of Bethlehem into Egypt, they passed through the green wildwood. + And flowers and trees and plants bent their heads in reverence. + </p> + <p> + But the proud aspen held its head high and refused even to look at the + Holy Babe. In vain the birds sang in the aspen's branches, entreating it + to gaze for one moment at the wonderful One; the proud tree still held its + head erect in scorn. + </p> + <p> + Then outspake Mary, his mother. “O aspen tree,” she said, “why do you not + gaze on the Holy Child? Why do you not bow your head? A star arose at his + birth, angels sang his first lullaby, kings and shepherds came to the + brightness of his rising; why, then, O aspen, do you refuse to honor your + Lord and mine?” + </p> + <p> + But the aspen could not answer. A strange shivering passed through its + stem and along its boughs, which set its leaves a-quivering. It trembled + before the Holy Babe. + </p> + <p> + And so from age to age, even unto this day, the proud aspen shakes and + shivers. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0124" id="link2H_4_0124"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE WONDER TREE + </h2> + <h3> + BY FRIEDRICH ADOLPH KRUMMACHER (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + One day in the springtime, Prince Solomon was sitting under the palm trees + in the royal gardens, when he saw the Prophet Nathan walking near. + </p> + <p> + “Nathan,” said the Prince, “I would see a wonder.” + </p> + <p> + The Prophet smiled. “I had the same desire in the days of my youth,” he + replied. + </p> + <p> + “And was it fulfilled?” asked Solomon. + </p> + <p> + “A Man of God came to me,” said Nathan, “having a pomegranate seed in his + hand. 'Behold,' he said, 'what will become of this.' Then he made a hole + in the ground, and planted the seed, and covered it over. When he withdrew + his hand the clods of earth opened, and I saw two small leaves coming + forth. But scarcely had I beheld them, when they joined together and + became a small stem wrapped in bark; and the stem grew before my eyes,—and + it grew thicker and higher and became covered with branches. + </p> + <p> + “I marveled, but the Man of God motioned me to be silent. 'Behold,' said + he, 'new creations begin.' + </p> + <p> + “Then he took water in the palm of his hand, and sprinkled the branches + three times, and, lo! the branches were covered with green leaves, so that + a cool shade spread above us, and the air was fined with perfume. + </p> + <p> + “'From whence come this perfume and this shade?' cried I. + </p> + <p> + “'Dost thou not see,' he answered, 'these crimson flowers bursting from + among the leaves, and hanging in clusters?' + </p> + <p> + “I was about to speak, but a gentle breeze moved the leaves, scattering + the petals of the flowers around us. Scarcely had the falling flowers + reached the ground when I saw ruddy pomegranates hanging beneath the + leaves of the tree, like almonds on Aaron's rod. Then the Man of God left + me, and I was lost in amazement.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is he, this Man of God?” asked Prince Solomon eagerly. “What is his + name? Is he still alive?” + </p> + <p> + “Son of David,” answered Nathan, “I have spoken to thee of a vision.” + </p> + <p> + When the Prince heard this he was grieved to the heart. “How couldst thou + deceive me thus?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + But the Prophet replied: “Behold in thy father's gardens thou mayest daily + see the unfolding of wonder trees. Doth not this same miracle happen to + the fig, the date, and the pomegranate? They spring from the earth, they + put out branches and leaves, they flower, they fruit,—not in a + moment, perhaps, but in months and years,—but canst thou tell the + difference betwixt a minute, a month, or a year in the eyes of Him with + whom one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0125" id="link2H_4_0125"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PROUD OAK TREE + </h2> + <h3> + OLD FABLE <a href="#linknote-11" name="linknoteref-11" id="linknoteref-11"><small>11</small></a> + </h3> + <p> + <a name="linknote-11" id="linknote-11"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 11 (<a href="#linknoteref-11">return</a>)<br /> [ From Deutsches Drittes + Lesebuch, by W. H. Weick and C. Grebner. Copyright, 1886, by Van Antwerp, + Bragg & Co. American Book Company, publishers.] + </p> + <p> + (TRANSLATED) + </p> + <p> + The oak said to the reed that grew by the river: “It is no wonder that you + make such a sorrowful moaning, for you are so weak that the little wren is + a burden for you, and the lightest breeze must seem like a storm-wind. Now + look at me! No storm has ever been able to bow my head. You will be much + safer if you grow close to my side so that I may shelter you from the wind + that is now playing with my leaves.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not worry about me,” said the reed; “I have less reason to fear the + wind than you have. I bow myself, but I never break. He who laughs last, + laughs best!” + </p> + <p> + That night there came a fearful hurricane. The oak stood erect. The reed + bowed itself before the blast. The wind grew more furious, and, uprooting + the proud oak, flung it on the ground. + </p> + <p> + When the morning came there stood the slender reed, glittering with + dewdrops, and softly swaying in the breeze. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0126" id="link2H_4_0126"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BAUCIS AND PHILEMON + </h2> + <h3> + ADAPTED FROM H. P. MASKEL'S RENDERING OF THE GREEK MYTH + </h3> + <p> + On the slopes of the Phrygian hills, there once dwelt a pious old couple + named Baucis and Philemon. They had lived all their lives in a tiny + cottage of wattles, thatched with straw, cheerful and content in spite of + their poverty. + </p> + <p> + As this worthy couple sat dozing by the fireside one evening in the late + autumn, two strangers came and begged a shelter for the night. They had to + stoop to enter the humble doorway, where the old man welcomed them + heartily and bade them rest their weary limbs on the settle before the + fire. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Baucis stirred the embers, blowing them into a flame with dry + leaves, and heaped on the fagots to boil the stew-pot. Hanging from the + blackened beams was a rusty side of bacon. Philemon cut off a rasher to + roast, and, while his guests refreshed themselves with a wash at the + rustic trough, he gathered pot-herbs from his patch of garden. Then the + old woman, her hands trembling with age, laid the cloth and spread the + table. + </p> + <p> + It was a frugal meal, but one that hungry wayfarers could well relish. The + first course was an omelette of curdled milk and eggs, garnished with + radishes and served on rude oaken platters. The cups of turned beechwood + were filled with homemade wine from an earthen jug. The second course + consisted of dried figs and dates, plums, sweet-smelling apples, and + grapes, with a piece of clear, white honeycomb. What made the meal more + grateful to the guests was the hearty spirit in which it was offered. + Their hosts gave all they had without stint or grudging. + </p> + <p> + But all at once something happened which startled and amazed Baucis and + Philemon. They poured out wine for their guests, and, lo! each time the + pitcher filled itself again to the brim. + </p> + <p> + The old couple then knew that their guests were not mere mortals; indeed, + they were no other than Jupiter and Mercury come down to earth in the + disguise of poor travelers. Being ashamed of their humble entertainment, + Philemon hurried out and gave chase to his only goose, intending to kill + and roast it. But his guests forbade him, saying:— + </p> + <p> + “In mortal shape we have come down, and at a hundred houses asked for + lodging and rest. For answer a hundred doors were shut and locked against + us. You alone, the poorest of all, have received us gladly and given us of + your best. Now it is for us to punish these impious people who treat + strangers so churlishly, but you two shall be spared. Only leave your + cottage and follow us to yonder mountain-top.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, Jupiter and Mercury led the way, and the two old folks hobbled + after them. Presently they reached the top of the mountain, and Baucis and + Philemon saw all the country round, with villages and people, sinking into + a marsh; while their own cottage alone was left standing. + </p> + <p> + And while they gazed, their cottage was changed into a white temple. The + doorway became a porch with marble columns. The thatch grew into a roof of + golden tiles. The little garden about their home became a park. + </p> + <p> + Then Jupiter, regarding Baucis and Philemon with kindly eyes, said: “Tell + me, O good old man and you good wife, what may we do in return for your + hospitality?” + </p> + <p> + Philemon whispered for a moment with Baucis, and she nodded her approval. + “We desire,” he replied, “to be your servants, and to have the care of + this temple. One other favor we would ask. From boyhood I have loved only + Baucis, and she has lived only for me. Let the selfsame hour take us both + away together. Let me never see the tomb of my wife, nor let her suffer + the misery of mourning my death.” + </p> + <p> + Jupiter and Mercury, pleased with these requests, willingly granted both, + and endowed Baucis and Philemon with youth and strength as well. The gods + then vanished from their sight, but as long as their lives lasted Baucis + and Philemon were the guardians of the white temple that once had been + their home. + </p> + <p> + And when again old age overtook them, they were standing one day in front + of the sacred porch, and Baucis, turning her gaze upon her husband, saw + him slowly changing into a gnarled oak tree. And Philemon, as he felt + himself rooted to the ground, saw Baucis at the same time turning into a + leafy linden. + </p> + <p> + And as their faces disappeared behind the green foliage, each cried unto + the other, “Farewell, dearest love!” and again, “Dearest love, farewell!” + And their human forms were changed to trees and branches. + </p> + <p> + And still, if you visit the spot, you may see an oak and a linden tree + with branches intertwined. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0127" id="link2H_4_0127"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE UNFRUITFUL TREE + </h2> + <h3> + BY FRIEDRICH ADOLPH KRUMMACHER + </h3> + <p> + A farmer had a brother in town who was a gardener, and who possessed a + magnificent orchard full of the finest fruit trees, so that his skill and + his beautiful trees were famous everywhere. + </p> + <p> + One day the farmer went into town to visit his brother, and was astonished + at the rows of trees that grew slender and smooth as wax tapers. + </p> + <p> + “Look, my brother,” said the gardener; “I will give you an apple tree, the + best from my garden, and you, and your children, and your children's + children shall enjoy it.” + </p> + <p> + Then the gardener called his workmen and ordered them to take up the tree + and carry it to his brother's farm. They did so, and the next morning the + farmer began to wonder where he should plant it. + </p> + <p> + “If I plant it on the hill,” said he to himself, “the wind might catch it + and shake down the delicious fruit before it is ripe; if I plant it close + to the road, passers-by will see it and rob me of its luscious apples; but + if I plant it too near the door of my house, my servants or the children + may pick the fruit.” + </p> + <p> + So, after he had thought the matter over, he planted the tree behind his + barn, saying to himself: “Prying thieves will not think to look for it + here.” + </p> + <p> + But behold, the tree bore neither fruit nor blossoms the first year nor + the second; then the farmer sent for his brother the gardener, and + reproached him angrily, saying:— + </p> + <p> + “You have deceived me, and given me a barren tree instead of a fruitful + one. For, behold, this is the third year and still it brings forth nothing + but leaves!” + </p> + <p> + The gardener, when he saw where the tree was planted, laughed and said:— + </p> + <p> + “You have planted the tree where it is exposed to cold winds, and has + neither sun nor warmth. How, then, could you expect flowers and fruit? You + have planted the tree with a greedy and suspicious heart; how, then, could + you expect to reap a rich and generous harvest?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0128" id="link2H_4_0128"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE DRYAD OF THE OLD OAK + </h2> + <h3> + BY JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + In olden times there was a youth named Rhoecus. One day as he wandered + through the wood he saw an ancient oak tree, trembling and about to fall. + Full of pity for so fair a tree, Rhoecus carefully propped up its trunk, + and as he did so he heard a soft voice murmur:— + </p> + <p> + “Rhoecus!” + </p> + <p> + It sounded like the gentle sighing of the wind through the leaves; and + while Rhoecus paused bewildered to listen, again he heard the murmur like + a soft breeze:— + </p> + <p> + “Rhoecus!” + </p> + <p> + And there stood before him, in the green glooms of the shadowy oak, a + wonderful maiden. + </p> + <p> + “Rhoecus,” said she, in low-toned words, serene and full, and as clear as + drops of dew, “I am the Dryad of this tree, and with it I am doomed to + live and die. Thou hadst compassion on my oak, and in saving it thou hast + saved my life. Now, ask me what thou wilt that I can give, and it shall be + thine.” + </p> + <p> + “Beauteous nymph,” answered Rhoecus, with a flutter at the heart, “surely + nothing will satisfy the craving of my soul save to be with thee forever. + Give to me thy love!” + </p> + <p> + “I give it, Rhoecus,” answered she with sadness in her voice, “though it + be a perilous gift. An hour before sunset meet me here.” + </p> + <p> + And straightway she vanished, and Rhoecus could see nothing but the green + glooms beneath the shadowy oak. Not a sound came to his straining ears but + the low, trickling rustle of the leaves, and, from far away on the emerald + slope, the sweet sound of an idle shepherd's pipe. + </p> + <p> + Filled with wonder and joy Rhoecus turned his steps homeward. The earth + seemed to spring beneath him as he walked. The clear, broad sky looked + bluer than its wont, and so full of joy was he that he could scarce + believe that he had not wings. + </p> + <p> + Impatient for the trysting-time, he sought some companions, and to while + away the tedious hours, he played at dice, and soon forgot all else. + </p> + <p> + The dice were rattling their merriest, and Rhoecus had just laughed in + triumph at a happy throw, when through the open window of the room there + hummed a yellow bee. It buzzed about his ears, and seemed ready to alight + upon his head. At this Rhoecus laughed, and with a rough, impatient hand + he brushed it off and cried:— + </p> + <p> + “The silly insect! does it take me for a rose?” + </p> + <p> + But still the bee came back. Three times it buzzed about his head, and + three times he rudely beat it back. Then straight through the window flew + the wounded bee, while Rhoecus watched its fight with angry eyes. + </p> + <p> + And as he looked—O sorrow!—the red disk of the setting sun + descended behind the sharp mountain peak of Thessaly. + </p> + <p> + Then instantly the blood sank from his heart, as if its very walls had + caved in, for he remembered the trysting-hour-now gone by! Without a word + he turned and rushed forth madly through the city and the gate, over the + fields into the wood. + </p> + <p> + Spent of breath he reached the tree, and, listening fearfully, he heard + once more the low voice murmur:— + </p> + <p> + “Rhoecus!” + </p> + <p> + But as he looked he could see nothing but the deepening glooms beneath the + oak. + </p> + <p> + Then the voice sighed: “O Rhoecus, nevermore shalt thou behold me by day + or night! Why didst thou fail to come ere sunset? Why didst thou scorn my + humble messenger, and send it back to me with bruised wings? We spirits + only show ourselves to gentle eyes! And he who scorns the smallest thing + alive is forever shut away from all that is beautiful in woods and fields. + Farewell! for thou canst see me no more!” + </p> + <p> + Then Rhoecus beat his breast and groaned aloud. “Be pitiful,” he cried. + “Forgive me yet this once!” + </p> + <p> + “Alas,” the voice replied, “I am not unmerciful! I can forgive! But I have + no skill to heal thy spirit's eyes, nor can I change the temper of thy + heart.” And then again she murmured, “Nevermore!” + </p> + <p> + And after that Rhoecus heard no other sound, save the rustling of the + oak's crisp leaves, like surf upon a distant shore. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0129" id="link2H_4_0129"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DAPHNE + </h2> + <h3> + BY OVID (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + In ancient times, when Apollo, the god of the shining sun, roamed the + earth, he met Cupid, who with bended bow and drawn string was seeking + human beings to wound with the arrows of love. + </p> + <p> + “Silly boy,” said Apollo, “what dost thou with the warlike bow? Such + burden best befits my shoulders, for did I not slay the fierce serpent, + the Python, whose baleful breath destroyed all that came nigh him? Warlike + arms are for the mighty, not for boys like thee! Do thou carry a torch + with which to kindle love in human hearts, but no longer lay claim to my + weapon, the bow!” + </p> + <p> + But Cupid replied in anger: “Let thy bow shoot what it will, Apollo, but + my bow shall shoot THEE!” And the god of love rose up, and beating the air + with his wings, he drew two magic arrows from his quiver. One was of + shining gold and with its barbed point could Cupid inflict wounds of love; + the other arrow was of dull silver and its wound had the power to engender + hate. + </p> + <p> + The silver arrow Cupid fixed in the breast of Daphne, the daughter of the + river-god Peneus; and forthwith she fled away from the homes of men, and + hunted beasts in the forest. + </p> + <p> + With the golden arrow Cupid grievously wounded Apollo, who fleeing to the + woods saw there the Nymph Daphne pursuing the deer; and straightway the + sun-god fell in love with her beauty. Her golden locks hung down upon her + neck, her eyes were like stars, her form was slender and graceful and + clothed in clinging white. Swifter than the light wind she flew, and + Apollo followed after. + </p> + <p> + “O Nymph! daughter of Peneus,” he cried, “stay, I entreat thee! Why dost + thou fly as a lamb from the wolf, as a deer from the lion, or as a dove + with trembling wings Bees from the eagle! I am no common man! I am no + shepherd! Thou knowest not, rash maid, from whom thou art flying! The + priests of Delphi and Tenedos pay their service to me. Jupiter is my sire. + Mine own arrow is unerring, but Cupid's aim is truer, for he has made this + wound in my heart! Alas! wretched me! though I am that great one who + discovered the art of healing, yet this love may not be healed by my herbs + nor my skill!” + </p> + <p> + But Daphne stopped not at these words, she flew from him with timid step. + The winds fluttered her garments, the light breezes spread her flowing + locks behind her. Swiftly Apollo drew near even as the keen greyhound + draws near to the frightened hare he is pursuing. With trembling limbs + Daphne sought the river, the home of her father, Peneus. Close behind her + was Apollo, the sun-god. She felt his breath on her hair and his hand on + her shoulder. Her strength was spent, she grew pale, and in faint accents + she implored the river:— + </p> + <p> + “O save me, my father, save me from Apollo, the sun-god!” + </p> + <p> + Scarcely had she thus spoken before a heaviness seized her limbs. Her + breast was covered with bark, her hair grew into green leaves, and her + arms into branches. Her feet, a moment before so swift, became rooted to + the ground. And Daphne was no longer a Nymph, but a green laurel tree. + </p> + <p> + When Apollo beheld this change he cried out and embraced the tree, and + kissed its leaves. + </p> + <p> + “Beautiful Daphne,” he said, “since thou cannot be my bride, yet shalt + thou be my tree. Henceforth my hair, my lyre, and my quiver shall be + adorned with laurel. Thy wreaths shall be given to conquering chiefs, to + winners of fame and joy; and as my head has never been shorn of its locks, + so shalt thou wear thy green leaves, winter and summer—forever!” + </p> + <p> + Apollo ceased speaking and the laurel bent its new-made boughs in assent, + and its stem seemed to shake and its leaves gently to murmur. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0130" id="link2H_4_0130"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BIRD DAY + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0131" id="link2H_4_0131"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE OLD WOMAN WHO BECAME A WOODPECKER + </h2> + <h3> + BY PHOEBE CARY (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Afar in the Northland, where the winter days are so short and the nights + so long, and where they harness the reindeer to sledges, and where the + children look like bear's cubs in their funny, furry clothes, there, long + ago, wandered a good Saint on the snowy roads. + </p> + <p> + He came one day to the door of a cottage, and looking in saw a little old + woman making cakes, and baking them on the hearth. + </p> + <p> + Now, the good Saint was faint with fasting, and he asked if she would give + him one small cake wherewith to stay his hunger. + </p> + <p> + So the little old woman made a VERY SMALL cake and placed it on the + hearth; but as it lay baking she looked at it and thought: “That is a big + cake, indeed, quite too big for me to give away.” + </p> + <p> + Then she kneaded another cake, much smaller, and laid that on the hearth + to cook, but when she turned it over it looked larger than the first. + </p> + <p> + So she took a tiny scrap of dough, and rolled it out, and rolled it out, + and baked it as thin as a wafer; but when it was done it looked so large + that she could not bear to part with it; and she said: “My cakes are much + too big to give away,”—and she put them on the shelf. + </p> + <p> + Then the good Saint grew angry, for he was hungry and faint. “You are too + selfish to have a human form,” said he. “You are too greedy to deserve + food, shelter, and a warm fire. Instead, henceforth, you shall build as + the birds do, and get your scanty living by picking up nuts and berries + and by boring, boring all the day long, in the bark of trees.” + </p> + <p> + Hardly had the good Saint said this when the little old woman went + straight up the chimney, and came out at the top changed into a red-headed + woodpecker with coal-black feathers. + </p> + <p> + And now every country boy may see her in the woods, where she lives in + trees boring, boring, boring for her food. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0132" id="link2H_4_0132"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE BOY WHO BECAME A ROBIN + </h2> + <h3> + AN OJIBBEWAY LEGEND + </h3> + <p> + BY HENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT (ADAPTED) + </p> + <p> + Once upon a time there was an old Indian who had an only son, whose name + was Opeechee. The boy had come to the age when every Indian lad makes a + long fast, in order to secure a Spirit to be his guardian for life. + </p> + <p> + Now, the old man was very proud, and he wished his son to fast longer than + other boys, and to become a greater warrior than all others. So he + directed him to prepare with solemn ceremonies for the fast. + </p> + <p> + After the boy had been in the sweating lodge and bath several times, his + father commanded him to lie down upon a clean mat, in a little lodge apart + from the rest. + </p> + <p> + “My son,” said he, “endure your hunger like a man, and at the end of + TWELVE DAYS, you shall receive food and a blessing from my hands.” + </p> + <p> + The boy carefully did all that his father commanded, and lay quietly with + his face covered, awaiting the arrival of his guardian Spirit who was to + bring him good or bad dreams. + </p> + <p> + His father visited him every day, encouraging him to endure with patience + the pangs of hunger and thirst. He told him of the honor and renown that + would be his if he continued his fast to the end of the twelve days. + </p> + <p> + To all this the boy replied not, but lay on his mat without a murmur of + discontent, until the ninth day; when he said:— + </p> + <p> + “My father, the dreams tell me of evil. May I break my fast now, and at a + better time make a new one?” + </p> + <p> + “My son,” replied the old man, “you know not what you ask. If you get up + now, all your glory will depart. Wait patiently a little longer. You have + but three days more to fast, then glory and honor will be yours.” + </p> + <p> + The boy said nothing more, but, covering himself closer, he lay until the + eleventh day, when he spoke again:— + </p> + <p> + “My father,” said he, “the dreams forebode evil. May I break my fast now, + and at a better time make a new one?” + </p> + <p> + “My son,” replied the old man again, “you know not what you ask. Wait + patiently a little longer. You have but one more day to fast. To-morrow I + will myself prepare a meal and bring it to you.” + </p> + <p> + The boy remained silent, beneath his covering, and motionless except for + the gentle heaving of his breast. + </p> + <p> + Early the next morning his father, overjoyed at having gained his end, + prepared some food. He took it and hastened to the lodge intending to set + it before his son. + </p> + <p> + On coming to the door of the lodge what was his surprise to hear the boy + talking to some one. He lifted the curtain hanging before the doorway, and + looking in saw his son painting his breast with vermilion. And as the lad + laid on the bright color as far back on his shoulders as he could reach, + he was saying to himself:— + </p> + <p> + “My father has destroyed my fortune as a man. He would not listen to my + requests. I shall be happy forever, because I was obedient to my parent; + but he shall suffer. My guardian Spirit has given me a new form, and now I + must go!” + </p> + <p> + At this his father rushed into the lodge, crying: + </p> + <p> + “My son! my son! I pray you leave me not!” + </p> + <p> + But the boy, with the quickness of a bird, flew to the top of the lodge, + and perching upon the highest pole, was instantly changed into a most + beautiful robin redbreast. + </p> + <p> + He looked down on his father with pity in his eyes, and said:— + </p> + <p> + “Do not sorrow, O my father, I am no longer your boy, but Opeechee the + robin. I shall always be a friend to men, and live near their dwellings. I + shall ever be happy and content. Every day will I sing you songs of joy. + The mountains and fields yield me food. My pathway is in the bright air.” + </p> + <p> + Then Opeechee the robin stretched himself as if delighting in his new + wings, and caroling his sweetest song, he flew away to the near-by trees. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0133" id="link2H_4_0133"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE TONGUE-CUT SPARROW + </h2> + <h3> + BY A. B. MITFORD (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Once upon a time there lived a little old man and a little old woman. The + little old man had a kind heart, and he kept a young sparrow, which he + cared for tenderly. Every morning it used to sing at the door of his + house. + </p> + <p> + Now, the little old woman was a cross old thing, and one day when she was + going to starch her linen, the sparrow pecked at her paste. Then she flew + into a great rage and cut the sparrow's tongue and let the bird fly away. + </p> + <p> + When the little old man came home from the hills, where he had been + chopping wood, he found the sparrow gone. + </p> + <p> + “Where is my little sparrow?” asked he. + </p> + <p> + “It pecked at my starching-paste,” answered the little old woman, “so I + cut its evil tongue and let it fly away.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! Alas!” cried the little old man. “Poor thing! Poor thing! Poor + little tongue-cut sparrow! Where is your home now?” + </p> + <p> + And then he wandered far and wide seeking his pet and crying:— + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Sparrow, Mr. Sparrow, where are you living?” + </p> + <p> + And he wandered on and on, over mountain and valley, and dale and river, + until one day at the foot of a certain mountain he met the lost bird. The + little old man was filled with joy and the sparrow welcomed him with its + sweetest song. + </p> + <p> + It led the little old man to its nest-house, introduced him to its wife + and small sparrows, and set before him all sorts of good things to eat and + drink. + </p> + <p> + “Please partake of our humble fare,” sang the sparrow; “poor as it is, you + are welcome.” + </p> + <p> + “What a polite sparrow,” answered the little old man, and he stayed for a + long time as the bird's guest. At last one day the little old man said + that he must take his leave and return home. + </p> + <p> + “Wait a bit,” said the sparrow. + </p> + <p> + And it went into the house and brought out two wicker baskets. One was + very heavy and the other light. + </p> + <p> + “Take the one you wish,” said the sparrow, “and good fortune go with you.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very feeble,” answered the little old man, “so I will take the light + one.” + </p> + <p> + He thanked the sparrow, and, shouldering the basket, said good-bye. Then + he trudged off leaving the sparrow family sad and lonely. + </p> + <p> + When he reached home the little old woman was very angry, and began to + scold him, saying:— + </p> + <p> + “Well, and pray where have you been all these days? A pretty thing, + indeed, for you to be gadding about like this!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” he replied, “I have been on a visit to the tongue-cut sparrow, and + when I came away it gave me this wicker basket as a parting gift.” + </p> + <p> + Then they opened the basket to see what was inside, and lo and behold! it + was full of gold, silver, and other precious things! + </p> + <p> + The little old woman was as greedy as she was cross, and when she saw all + the riches spread before her, she could not contain herself for joy. + </p> + <p> + “Ho! Ho!” cried she. “Now I'll go and call on the sparrow, and get a + pretty present, too!” + </p> + <p> + She asked the old man the way to the sparrow's house and set forth on her + journey. And she wandered on and on over mountain and valley, and dale and + river, until at last she saw the tongue-cut sparrow. + </p> + <p> + “Well met, well met, Mr. Sparrow,” cried she. “I have been looking forward + with much pleasure to seeing you.” And then she tried to flatter it with + soft, sweet words. + </p> + <p> + So the bird had to invite her to its nest-house, but it did not feast her + nor say anything about a parting gift. At last the little old woman had to + go, and she asked for something to carry with her to remember the visit + by. The sparrow, as before, brought out two wicker baskets. One was very + heavy and the other light. + </p> + <p> + The greedy little old woman, choosing the heavy one, carried it off with + her. + </p> + <p> + She hurried home as fast as she was able, and closing her doors and + windows so that no one might see, opened the basket. And, lo and behold! + out jumped all sorts of wicked hobgoblins and imps, and they scratched and + pinched her to death. + </p> + <p> + As for the little old man he adopted a son, and his family grew rich and + prosperous. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0134" id="link2H_4_0134"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE QUAILS—A LEGEND OF THE JATAKA + </h2> + <h3> + FROM THE RIVERSIDE FOURTH READER + </h3> + <p> + Ages ago a flock of more than a thousand quails lived together in a forest + in India. They would have been happy, but that they were in great dread of + their enemy, the quail-catcher. He used to imitate the call of the quail; + and when they gathered together in answer to it, he would throw a great + net over them, stuff them into his basket, and carry them away to be sold. + </p> + <p> + Now, one of the quails was very wise, and he said:— + </p> + <p> + “Brothers! I've thought of a good plan. In future, as soon as the fowler + throws his net over us, let each one put his head through a mesh in the + net and then all lift it up together and fly away with it. When we have + flown far enough, we can let the net drop on a thorn bush and escape from + under it.” + </p> + <p> + All agreed to the plan; and next day when the fowler threw his net, the + birds all lifted it together in the very way that the wise quail had told + them, threw it on a thorn bush and escaped. While the fowler tried to free + his net from the thorns, it grew dark, and he had to go home. + </p> + <p> + This happened many days, till at last the fowler's wife grew angry and + asked her husband:— + </p> + <p> + “Why is it that you never catch any more quail?” + </p> + <p> + Then the fowler said: “The trouble is that all the birds work together and + help one another. If they would only quarrel, I could catch them fast + enough.” + </p> + <p> + A few days later, one of the quails accidentally trod on the head of one + of his brothers, as they alighted on the feeding-ground. + </p> + <p> + “Who trod on my head?” angrily inquired the quail who was hurt. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be angry, I didn't mean to tread on you,” said the first quail. + </p> + <p> + But the brother quail went on quarreling. + </p> + <p> + “I lifted all the weight of the net; you didn't help at all,” he cried. + </p> + <p> + That made the first quail angry, and before long all were drawn into the + dispute. Then the fowler saw his chance. He imitated the cry of the quail + and cast his net over those who came together. They were still boasting + and quarreling, and they did not help one another lift the net. So the + hunter lifted the net himself and crammed them into his basket. But the + wise quail gathered his friends together and flew far away, for he knew + that quarrels are the root of misfortune. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0135" id="link2H_4_0135"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE MAGPIE'S NEST + </h2> + <h3> + BY JOSEPH JACOBS + </h3> + <p> + All the birds of the air came to the magpie and asked her to teach them + how to build nests. For the magpie is the cleverest bird of all at + building nests. So she put all the birds round her and began to show them + how to do it. First of all she took some mud and made a sort of round cake + with it. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's how it's done!” said the thrush, and away it flew; and so + that's how thrushes build their nests. + </p> + <p> + Then the magpie took some twigs and arranged them round in the mud. + </p> + <p> + “Now I know all about it!” said the blackbird, and off it flew; and that's + how the blackbirds make their nests to this very day. + </p> + <p> + Then the magpie put another layer of mud over the twigs. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that 's quite obvious!” said the wise owl, and away it flew; and owls + have never made better nests since. + </p> + <p> + After this the magpie took some twigs and twined them round the outside. + </p> + <p> + “The very thing!” said the sparrow, and off he went; so sparrows make + rather slovenly nests to this day. + </p> + <p> + Well, then Madge magpie took some feathers and stuff, and lined the nest + very comfortably with it. + </p> + <p> + “That suits me!” cried the starling, and off it flew; and very comfortable + nests have starlings. + </p> + <p> + So it went on, every bird taking away some knowledge of how to build + nests, but none of them waiting to the end. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Madge magpie went on working and working without looking up, + till the only bird that remained was the turtle-dove, and that hadn't paid + any attention all along, but only kept on saying its silly cry: “Take two, + Taffy, take two-o-o-o!” + </p> + <p> + At last the magpie heard this just as she was putting a twig across, so + she said: “One's enough.” + </p> + <p> + But the turtle-dove kept on saying: “Take two, Taffy, take two-o-o-o!” + </p> + <p> + Then the magpie got angry and said: “One's enough, I tell you!” + </p> + <p> + Still the turtle-dove cried: “Take two, Taffy, take two-o-o-o!” + </p> + <p> + At last, and at last, the magpie looked up and saw nobody near her but the + silly turtle-dove, and then she got rarely angry and flew away and refused + to tell the birds how to build nests again. + </p> + <p> + And that is why different birds build their nests differently. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0136" id="link2H_4_0136"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE GREEDY GEESE + </h2> + <h3> + FROM IL LIBRO D'ORO (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + Many years ago there was near the sea a convent famed for the rich crops + of grain that grew on its farm. On a certain year a large flock of wild + geese descended on its fields and devoured first the corn, and then the + green blades. + </p> + <p> + The superintendent of the farm hastened to the convent and called the lady + abbess. + </p> + <p> + “Holy mother,” said he, “this year the nuns will have to fast continually, + for there will be no food.” + </p> + <p> + “Why is that?” asked the abbess. + </p> + <p> + “Because,” answered the superintendent, “a flood of wild geese has rained + upon the land, and they have eaten up the corn, nor have they left a + single green blade.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible,” said the abbess, “that these wicked birds have no + respect for the property of the convent! They shall do penance for their + misdeeds. Return at once to the fields, and order the geese from me to + come without delay to the convent door, so that they may receive just + punishment for their greediness.” + </p> + <p> + “But, mother,” said the superintendent, “this is not a time for jesting! + These are not sheep to be guided into the fold, but birds with long, + strong wings, to fly away with.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you understand me!” answered the abbess. “Go at once, and bid them + come to me without delay, and render an account of their misdeeds.” + </p> + <p> + The superintendent ran back to the farm, and found the flock of evildoers + still there. He raised his voice and clapping his hands, cried:— + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, ye greedy geese! The lady abbess commands you to hasten to + the convent door!” + </p> + <p> + Wonderful sight! Hardly had he uttered these words than the geese raised + their necks as if to listen, then, without spreading their wings, they + placed themselves in single file, and in regular order began to march + toward the convent. As they proceeded they bowed their heads as if + confessing their fault and as though about to receive punishment. + </p> + <p> + Arriving at the convent, they entered the courtyard in exact order, one + behind the other, and there awaited the coming of the abbess. All night + they stood thus without making a sound, as if struck dumb by their guilty + consciences. But when morning came, they uttered the most pitiful cries as + though asking pardon and permission to depart. + </p> + <p> + Then the lady abbess, taking compassion on the repentant birds, appeared + with some nuns upon a balcony. Long she talked to the geese, asking them + why they had stolen the convent grain. She threatened them with a long + fast, and then, softening, began to offer them pardon if they would never + again attack her lands, nor eat her corn. To which the geese bowed their + heads low in assent. Then the abbess gave them her blessing and permission + to depart. + </p> + <p> + Hardly had she done so when the geese, spreading their wings, made a + joyous circle above the convent towers, and flew away. Alighting at some + distance they counted their number and found one missing. For, alas! in + the night, when they had been shut in the courtyard, the convent cook, + seeing how fat they were, had stolen one bird and had killed, roasted, and + eaten it. + </p> + <p> + When the birds discovered that one of their number was missing, they again + took wing and, hovering over the convent, they uttered mournful cries, + complaining of the loss of their comrade, and imploring the abbess to + return him to the flock. + </p> + <p> + Now, when the lady abbess heard these melancholy pleas, she assembled her + household, and inquired of each member where the bird might be. The cook, + fearing that it might be already known to her, confessed the theft, and + begged for pardon. + </p> + <p> + “You have been very audacious,” said the abbess, “but at least collect the + bones and bring them to me.” + </p> + <p> + The cook did as directed, and the abbess at a word caused the bones to + come together and to assume flesh, and afterwards feathers, and, lo! the + original bird rose up. + </p> + <p> + The geese, having received their lost companion, rejoiced loudly, and, + beating their wings gratefully, made many circles over the sacred + cloister, before they flew away. Neither did they in future ever dare to + place a foot on the lands of the convent, nor to touch one blade of grass. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0137" id="link2H_4_0137"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE KING OF THE BIRDS + </h2> + <h3> + BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM (TRANSLATED) + </h3> + <p> + One day the birds took it into their heads that they would like a master, + and that one of their number must be chosen king. A meeting of all the + birds was called, and on a beautiful May morning they assembled from woods + and fields and meadows. The eagle, the robin, the bluebird, the owl, the + lark, the sparrow were all there. The cuckoo came, and the lapwing, and so + did all the other birds, too numerous to mention. There also came a very + little bird that had no name at all. + </p> + <p> + There was great confusion and noise. There was piping, hissing, chattering + and clacking, and finally it was decided that the bird that could fly the + highest should be king. + </p> + <p> + The signal was given and all the birds flew in a great flock into the air. + There was a loud rustling and whirring and beating of wings. The air was + full of dust, and it seemed as if a black cloud were floating over the + field. + </p> + <p> + The little birds soon grew tired and fell back quickly to earth. The + larger ones held out longer, and flew higher and higher, but the eagle + flew highest of any. He rose, and rose, until he seemed to be flying + straight into the sun. + </p> + <p> + The other birds gave out and one by one they fell back to earth; and when + the eagle saw this he thought, “What is the use of flying any higher? It + is settled: I am king!” + </p> + <p> + Then the birds below called in one voice: “Come back, come back! You must + be our king! No one can fly as high as you.” + </p> + <p> + “Except me!” cried a shrill, shrill voice, and the little bird without a + name rose from the eagle's back, where he had lain hidden in the feathers, + and he flew into the air. Higher and higher he mounted till he was lost to + sight, then, folding his wings together, he sank to earth crying shrilly: + “I am king! I am king!” + </p> + <p> + “You, our king!” the birds cried in anger; “you have done this by trickery + and cunning. We will not have you to reign over us.” + </p> + <p> + Then the birds gathered together again and made another condition, that he + should be king who could go the deepest into the earth. + </p> + <p> + How the goose wallowed in the sand, and the duck strove to dig a hole! All + the other birds, too, tried to hide themselves in the ground. The little + bird without a name found a mouse's hole, and creeping in cried:— + </p> + <p> + “I am king! I am king!” + </p> + <p> + “You, our king!” all the birds cried again, more angrily than before. “Do + you think that we would reward your cunning in this way? No, no! You shall + stay in the earth till you die of hunger!” + </p> + <p> + So they shut up the little bird in the mouse's hole, and bade the owl + watch him carefully night and day. Then all the birds went home to bed, + for they were very tired; but the owl found it lonely and wearisome + sitting alone staring at the mouse's hole. + </p> + <p> + “I can close one eye and watch with the other,” he thought. So he closed + one eye and stared steadfastly with the other; but before he knew it he + forgot to keep that one open, and both eyes were fast asleep. + </p> + <p> + Then the little bird without a name peeped out, and when he saw Master + Owl's two eyes tight shut, he slipped from the hole and flew away. + </p> + <p> + From this time on the owl has not dared to show himself by day lest the + birds should pull him to pieces. He flies about only at night-time, hating + and pursuing the mouse for having made the hole into which the little bird + crept. + </p> + <p> + And the little bird also keeps out of sight, for he fears lest the other + birds should punish him for his cunning. He hides in the hedges, and when + he thinks himself quite safe, he sings out: “I am king! I am king!” + </p> + <p> + And the other birds in mockery call out: “Yes, yes, the hedge-king! the + hedge-king!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0138" id="link2H_4_0138"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE DOVE WHO SPOKE TRUTH + </h2> + <h3> + BY ABBIE FARWELL BROWN + </h3> + <p> + The dove and the wrinkled little bat once went on a journey together. When + it came toward night a storm arose, and the two companions sought + everywhere for a shelter. But all the birds were sound asleep in their + nests and the animals in their holes and dens. They could find no welcome + anywhere until they came to the hollow tree where old Master Owl lived, + wide awake in the dark. + </p> + <p> + “Let us knock here,” said the shrewd bat; “I know the old fellow is not + asleep. This is his prowling hour, and but that it is a stormy night he + would be abroad hunting.—What ho, Master Owl!” he squeaked, “will + you let in two storm-tossed travelers for a night's lodging?” + </p> + <p> + Gruffly the selfish old owl bade them enter, and grudgingly invited them + to share his supper. The poor dove was so tired that she could scarcely + eat, but the greedy bat's spirits rose as soon as he saw the viands spread + before him. He was a sly fellow, and immediately began to flatter his host + into good humor. He praised the owl's wisdom and his courage, his + gallantry and his generosity; though every one knew that however wise old + Master Owl might be, he was neither brave nor gallant. As for his + generosity—both the dove and the bat well remembered his selfishness + toward the poor wren, when the owl alone of all the birds refused to give + the little fire-bringer a feather to help cover his scorched and shivering + body. + </p> + <p> + All this flattery pleased the owl. He puffed and ruffled himself, trying + to look as wise, gallant, and brave as possible. He pressed the bat to + help himself more generously to the viands, which invitation the sly + fellow was not slow to accept. + </p> + <p> + During this time the dove had not uttered a word. She sat quite still + staring at the bat, and wondering to hear such insincere speeches of + flattery. Suddenly the owl turned to her. + </p> + <p> + “As for you, Miss Pink-Eyes,” he said gruffly, “you keep careful silence. + You are a dull table-companion. Pray, have you nothing to say for + yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” exclaimed the mischievous bat; “have you no words of praise for our + kind host? Methinks he deserves some return for this wonderfully generous, + agreeable, tasteful, well-appointed, luxurious, elegant, and altogether + acceptable banquet. What have you to say, O little dove?” + </p> + <p> + But the dove hung her head, ashamed of her companion, and said very + simply: “O Master Owl, I can only thank you with all my heart for the + hospitality and shelter which you have given me this night. I was beaten + by the storm, and you took me in. I was hungry, and you gave me your best + to eat. I cannot flatter nor make pretty speeches like the bat. I never + learned such manners. But I thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” cried the bat, pretending to be shocked, “is that all you have to + say to our obliging host? Is he not the wisest, bravest, most gallant and + generous of gentlemen? Have you no praise for his noble character as well + as for his goodness to us? I am ashamed of you! You do not deserve such + hospitality. You do not deserve this shelter.” + </p> + <p> + The dove remained silent. Like Cordelia in the play she could not speak + untruths even for her own happiness. + </p> + <p> + “Truly, you are an unamiable guest,” snarled the owl, his yellow eyes + growing keen and fierce with anger and mortified pride. “You are an + ungrateful bird, Miss, and the bat is right. You do not deserve this + generous hospitality which I have offered, this goodly shelter which you + asked. Away with you! Leave my dwelling! Pack off into the storm and see + whether or not your silence will soothe the rain and the wind. Be off, I + say!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, away with her!” echoed the bat, flapping his leathery wings. + </p> + <p> + And the two heartless creatures fell upon the poor little dove and drove + her out into the dark and stormy night. + </p> + <p> + Poor little dove! All night she was tossed and beaten about shelterless in + the storm, because she had been too truthful to flatter the vain old owl. + But when the bright morning dawned, draggled and weary as she was, she + flew to the court of King Eagle and told him all her trouble. Great was + the indignation of that noble bird. + </p> + <p> + “For his flattery and his cruelty let the bat never presume to fly abroad + until the sun goes down,” he cried. “As for the owl, I have already doomed + him to this punishment for his treatment of the wren. But henceforth let + no bird have anything to do with either of them, the bat or the owl. Let + them be outcasts and night-prowlers, enemies to be attacked and punished + if they appear among us, to be avoided by all in their loneliness. + Flattery and inhospitality, deceit and cruelty,—what are more + hideous than these? Let them cover themselves in darkness and shun the + happy light of day. + </p> + <p> + “As for you, little dove, let this be a lesson to you to shun the company + of flatterers, who are sure to get you into trouble. But you shall always + be loved for your simplicity and truth. And as a token of our affection + your name shall be used by poets as long as the world shall last to rhyme + with LOVE.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0139" id="link2H_4_0139"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE BUSY BLUE JAY + </h2> + <h3> + BY OLIVE THORNE MILLER (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + One of the most interesting birds who ever lived in my Bird Room was a + blue jay named Jakie. He was full of business from morning till night, + scarcely ever a moment still. + </p> + <p> + Poor little fellow! He had been stolen from the nest before he could fly, + and reared in a house, long before he was given to me. Of course he could + not be set free, for he did not know how to take care of himself. + </p> + <p> + Jays are very active birds, and being shut up in a room, my blue jay had + to find things to do, to keep himself busy. If he had been allowed to grow + up out of doors, he would have found plenty to do, planting acorns and + nuts, nesting, and bringing up families. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes the things he did in the house were what we call mischief + because they annoy us, such as hammering the woodwork to pieces, tearing + bits out of the leaves of books, working holes in chair seats, or pounding + a cardboard box to pieces. But how is a poor little bird to know what is + mischief? + </p> + <p> + Many things which Jakie did were very funny. For instance, he made it his + business to clear up the room. When he had more food than he could eat at + the moment, he did not leave it around, but put it away carefully,—not + in the garbage pail, for that was not in the room, but in some safe nook + where it did not offend the eye. Sometimes it was behind the tray in his + cage, or among the books on the shelf. The places he liked best were about + me,—in the fold of a ruffle or the loop of a bow on my dress, and + sometimes in the side of my slipper. The very choicest place of all was in + my loosely bound hair. That, of course, I could not allow, and I had to + keep very close watch of him, for fear I might have a bit of bread or meat + thrust among my locks. + </p> + <p> + In his clearing up he always went carefully over the floor, picking up + pins, or any little thing he could find, and I often dropped burnt + matches, buttons, and other small things to give him something to do. + These he would pick up and put nicely away. + </p> + <p> + Pins Jakie took lengthwise in his beak, and at first I thought he had + swallowed them, till I saw him hunt up a proper place to hide them. The + place he chose was between the leaves of a book. He would push a pin far + in out of sight, and then go after another. A match he always tried to put + in a crack, under the baseboard, between the breadths of matting, or under + my rockers. He first placed it, and then tried to hammer it in out of + sight. He could seldom get it in far enough to suit him, and this worried + him. Then he would take it out and try another place. + </p> + <p> + Once the blue jay found a good match, of the parlor match variety. He put + it between the breadths of matting, and then began to pound on it as + usual. Pretty soon he hit the unburnt end and it went off with a loud + crack, as parlor matches do. Poor Jakie jumped two feet into the air, + nearly frightened out of his wits; and I was frightened, too, for I feared + he might set the house on fire. + </p> + <p> + Often when I got up from my chair a shower of the bird's playthings would + fall from his various hiding-places about my dress,—nails, matches, + shoe-buttons, bread-crumbs, and other things. Then he had to begin his + work all over again. + </p> + <p> + Jakie liked a small ball or a marble. His game was to give it a hard peck + and see it roll. If it rolled away from him, he ran after it and pecked + again; but sometimes it rolled toward him, and then he bounded into the + air as if he thought it would bite. And what was funny, he was always + offended at this conduct of the ball, and went off sulky for a while. + </p> + <p> + He was a timid little fellow. Wind or storm outside the windows made him + wild. He would fly around the room, squawking at the top of his voice; and + the horrible tin horns the boys liked to blow at Thanksgiving and + Christmas drove him frantic. + </p> + <p> + Once I brought a Christmas tree into the room to please the birds, and all + were delighted with it except my poor little blue jay, who was much afraid + of it. Think of the sadness of a bird being afraid of a tree! + </p> + <p> + II + </p> + <p> + Jakie had decided opinions about people who came into the room to see me, + or to see the birds. At some persons he would squawk every moment. Others + he saluted with a queer cry like “Ob-ble! ob-ble! ob-ble!” Once when a + lady came in with a baby, he fixed his eyes on that infant with a savage + look as if he would like to peck it, and jumped back and forth in his + cage, panting but perfectly silent. + </p> + <p> + Jakie was very devoted to me. He always greeted me with a low, sweet + chatter, with wings quivering, and, if he were out of the cage, he would + come on the back of my chair and touch my cheek or lips very gently with + his beak, or offer me a bit of food if he had any; and to me alone when no + one else was near, he sang a low, exquisite song. I afterwards heard a + similar song sung by a wild blue jay to his mate while she was sitting, + and so I knew that my dear little captive had given me his sweetest—his + love-song. + </p> + <p> + One of Jakie's amusements was dancing across the back of a tall chair, + taking funny little steps, coming down hard, “jouncing” his body, and + whistling as loud as he could. He would keep up this funny performance as + long as anybody would stand before him and pretend to dance too. + </p> + <p> + My jay was fond of a sensation. One of his dearest bits of fun was to + drive the birds into a panic. This he did by flying furiously around the + room, feathers rustling, and squawking as loud as he could. He usually + managed to fly just over the head of each bird, and as he came like a + catapult, every one flew before him, so that in a minute the room was full + of birds flying madly about, trying to get out of his way. This gave him + great pleasure. + </p> + <p> + Once a grasshopper got into the Bird Room, probably brought in clinging to + some one's dress in the way grasshoppers do. Jakie was in his cage, but he + noticed the stranger instantly, and I opened the door for him. He went at + once to look at the grasshopper, and when it hopped he was so startled + that he hopped too. Then he picked the insect up, but he did not know what + to do with it, so he dropped it again. Again the grasshopper jumped + directly up, and again the jay did the same. This they did over and over, + till every one was tired laughing at them. It looked as if they were + trying to see who could jump the highest. + </p> + <p> + There was another bird in the room, however, who knew what grasshoppers + were good for. He was an orchard oriole, and after looking on awhile, he + came down and carried off the hopper to eat. The jay did not like to lose + his plaything; he ran after the thief, and stood on the floor giving low + cries and looking on while the oriole on a chair was eating the dead + grasshopper. When the oriole happened to drop it, Jakie,—who had got + a new idea what to do with grasshoppers,—snatched it up and carried + it under a chair and finished it. + </p> + <p> + I could tell many more stories about my bird, but I have told them before + in one of my “grown-up” books, so I will not repeat them here. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0140" id="link2H_4_0140"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BABES IN THE WOODS + </h2> + <h3> + BY JOHN BURROUGHS + </h3> + <p> + One day in early May, Ted and I made an expedition to the Shattega, a + still, dark, deep stream that loiters silently through the woods not far + from my cabin. As we paddled along, we were on the alert for any bit of + wild life of bird or beast that might turn up. + </p> + <p> + There were so many abandoned woodpecker chambers in the small dead trees + as we went along that I determined to secure the section of a tree + containing a good one to take home and put up for the bluebirds. “Why + don't the bluebirds occupy them here?” inquired Ted. “Oh,” I replied, + “blue birds do not come so far into the woods as this. They prefer + nesting-places in the open, and near human habitations.” After carefully + scrutinizing several of the trees, we at last saw one that seemed to fill + the bill. It was a small dead tree-trunk seven or eight inches in + diameter, that leaned out over the water, and from which the top had been + broken. The hole, round and firm, was ten or twelve feet above us. After + considerable effort I succeeded in breaking the stub off near the ground, + and brought it down into the boat. + </p> + <p> + “Just the thing,” I said; “surely the bluebirds will prefer this to an + artificial box.” But, lo and behold, it already had bluebirds in it! We + had not heard a sound or seen a feather till the trunk was in our hands, + when, on peering into the cavity, we discovered two young bluebirds about + half grown. This was a predicament indeed! + </p> + <p> + Well, the only thing we could do was to stand the tree-trunk up again as + well as we could, and as near as we could to where it had stood before. + This was no easy thing. But after a time we had it fairly well replaced, + one end standing in the mud of the shallow water and the other resting + against a tree. This left the hole to the nest about ten feet below and to + one side of its former position. Just then we heard the voice of one of + the parent birds, and we quickly paddled to the other side of the stream, + fifty feet away, to watch her proceedings, saying to each other, “Too bad! + too bad!” The mother bird had a large beetle in her beak. She alighted + upon a limb a few feet above the former site of her nest, looked down upon + us, uttered a note or two, and then dropped down confidently to the point + in the vacant air where the entrance to her nest had been but a few + moments before. Here she hovered on the wing a second or two, looking for + something that was not there, and then returned to the perch she had just + left, apparently not a little disturbed. She hammered the beetle rather + excitedly upon the limb a few times, as if it were in some way at fault, + then dropped down to try for her nest again. Only vacant air there! She + hovers and hovers, her blue wings flickering in the checkered light; + surely that precious hole MUST be there; but no, again she is baffled, and + again she returns to her perch, and mauls the poor beetle till it must be + reduced to a pulp. Then she makes a third attempt, then a fourth, and a + fifth, and a sixth, till she becomes very much excited. “What could have + happened? Am I dreaming? Has that beetle hoodooed me?” she seems to say, + and in her dismay she lets the bug drop, and looks bewilderedly about her. + Then she flies away through the woods, calling. “Going for her mate,” I + said to Ted. “She is in deep trouble, and she wants sympathy and help.” + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes we heard her mate answer, and presently the two birds + came hurrying to the spot, both with loaded beaks. They perched upon the + familiar limb above the site of the nest, and the mate seemed to say, “My + dear, what has happened to you? I can find that nest.” And he dived down, + and brought up in the empty air just as the mother had done. How he + winnowed it with his eager wings! How he seemed to bear on to that blank + space! His mate sat regarding him intently, confident, I think, that he + would find the clue. But he did not. Baffled and excited, he returned to + the perch beside her. Then she tried again, then he rushed down once more, + then they both assaulted the place, but it would not give up its secret. + They talked, they encouraged each other, and they kept up the search, now + one, now the other, now both together. Sometimes they dropped down to + within a few feet of the entrance to the nest, and we thought they would + surely find it. No, their minds and eyes were intent only upon that square + foot of space where the nest had been. Soon they withdrew to a large limb + many feet higher up, and seemed to say to themselves, + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is not there, but it must be here somewhere; let us look about.” + A few minutes elapsed, when we saw the mother bird spring from her perch + and go straight as an arrow to the nest. Her maternal eye had proved the + quicker. She had found her young. Something like reason and common sense + had come to her rescue; she had taken time to look about, and behold! + there was that precious doorway. She thrust her head into it, then sent + back a call to her mate, then went farther in, then withdrew. “Yes, it is + true, they are here, they are here!” Then she went in again, gave them the + food in her beak, and then gave place to her mate, who, after similar + demonstrations of joy, also gave them his morsel. + </p> + <p> + Ted and I breathed freer. A burden had been taken from our minds and + hearts, and we went cheerfully on our way. We had learned something, too; + we had learned that when in the deep woods you think of bluebirds, + bluebirds may be nearer you than you think. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0141" id="link2H_4_0141"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PRIDE OF THE REGIMENT + </h2> + <h3> + BY HARRY M. KIEFFER (ADAPTED) + </h3> + <p> + “Old Abe” was the war-eagle of the Eighth Wisconsin Volunteers. Whoever it + may have been that first conceived the idea, it was certainly a happy + thought to make a pet of an eagle. For the eagle is our national bird, and + to carry an eagle along with the colors of a regiment on the march, and in + battle, and all through the whole war, was surely very appropriate, + indeed. + </p> + <p> + “Old Abe's” perch was on a shield, which was carried by a soldier, to + whom, and to whom alone, he looked as to a master. He would not allow any + one to carry or even to handle him, except this soldier, nor would he ever + receive his food from any other person's hands. He seemed to have sense + enough to know that he was sometimes a burden to his master on the march, + however, and, as if to relieve him, would occasionally spread his wings + and soar aloft to a great height, the men of all regiments along the line + of march cheering him as he went up. + </p> + <p> + He regularly received his rations from the commissary, like any enlisted + man. Whenever fresh meat was scarce, and none could be found for him by + foraging parties, he would take things into his own claws, as it were, and + go out on a foraging expedition himself. On some such occasions he would + be gone two or three days at a time, during which nothing whatever was + seen of him; but he would invariably return, and seldom would come back + without a young lamb or a chicken in his talons. His long absences + occasioned his regiment not the slightest concern, for the men knew that, + though he might fly many miles away in quest of food, he would be quite + sure to find them again. + </p> + <p> + In what way he distinguished the two hostile armies so accurately that he + was never once known to mistake the gray for the blue, no one can tell. + But so it was, that he was never known to alight save in his own camp, and + amongst his own men. + </p> + <p> + At Jackson, Mississippi, during the hottest part of the battle before that + city, “Old Abe” soared up into the air, and remained there from early + morning until the fight closed at night, no doubt greatly enjoying his + bird's-eye view of the battle. He did the same at Mission Ridge. He was, I + believe, struck by Confederate bullets two or three times, but his + feathers were so thick that his body was not much hurt. The shield on + which he was carried, however, showed so many marks of Confederate balls + that it looked on top as if a groove plane had been run over it. + </p> + <p> + At the Centennial celebration held in Philadelphia, in 1876, “Old Abe” + occupied a prominent place on his perch on the west side of the nave in + the Agricultural Building. He was evidently growing old, and was the + observed of all observers. Thousands of visitors, from all sections of the + country, paid their respects to the grand old bird, who, apparently + conscious of the honors conferred upon him, overlooked the sale of his + biography and photographs going on beneath his perch with entire + satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + As was but just and right, the soldier who had carried him during the war + continued to have charge of him after the war was over, until the day of + his death, which occurred at the capital of Wisconsin, in 1881. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0142" id="link2H_4_0142"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE MOTHER MURRE + </h2> + <h3> + BY DALLAS LORE SHARP + </h3> + <p> + One of the most striking cases of mother-love which has ever come under my + observation, I saw in the summer of 1912 on the bird rookeries of the + Three-Arch Rocks Reservation off the coast of Oregon. + </p> + <p> + We were making our slow way toward the top of the outer rock. Through + rookery after rookery of birds, we climbed until we reached the edge of + the summit. Scrambling over this edge, we found ourselves in the midst of + a great colony of nesting murres—hundreds of them—covering + this steep rocky part of the top. + </p> + <p> + As our heads appeared above the rim, many of the colony took wing and + whirred over us out to sea, but most of them sat close, each bird upon its + egg or over its chick, loath to leave, and so expose to us the hidden + treasure. + </p> + <p> + The top of the rock was somewhat cone-shaped, and in order to reach the + peak and the colonies on the west side we had to make our way through this + rookery of the murres. The first step among them, and the whole colony was + gone, with a rush of wings and feet that sent several of the top-shaped + eggs rolling, and several of the young birds toppling over the cliff to + the pounding waves and ledges far below. + </p> + <p> + We stopped, but the colony, almost to a bird, had bolted, leaving scores + of eggs, and scores of downy young squealing and running together for + shelter, like so many beetles under a lifted board. + </p> + <p> + But the birds had not every one bolted, for here sat two of the colony + among the broken rocks. These two had not been frightened off. That both + of them were greatly alarmed, any one could see from their open beaks, + their rolling eyes, their tense bodies on tiptoe for flight. Yet here they + sat, their wings out like props, or more like gripping hands, as if they + were trying to hold themselves down to the rocks against their wild desire + to fly. + </p> + <p> + And so they were, in truth, for under their extended wings I saw little + black feet moving. Those two mother murres were not going to forsake their + babies! No, not even for these approaching monsters, such as they had + never before seen, clambering over their rocks. + </p> + <p> + What was different about these two? They had their young ones to protect. + Yes, but so had every bird in the great colony its young one, or its egg, + to protect, yet all the others had gone. Did these two have more + mother-love than the others? And hence, more courage, more intelligence? + </p> + <p> + We took another step toward them, and one of the two birds sprang into the + air, knocking her baby over and over with the stroke of her wing, and + coming within an inch of hurling it across the rim to be battered on the + ledges below. The other bird raised her wings to follow, then clapped them + back over her baby. Fear is the most contagious thing in the world; and + that flap of fear by the other bird thrilled her, too, but as she had + withstood the stampede of the colony, so she caught herself again and held + on. + </p> + <p> + She was now alone on the bare top of the rock, with ten thousand circling + birds screaming to her in the air above, and with two men creeping up to + her with a big black camera that clicked ominously. She let the multitude + scream, and with threatening beak watched the two men come on. A + motherless baby, spying her, ran down the rock squealing for his life. She + spread a wing, put her bill behind him and shoved him quickly in out of + sight with her own baby. The man with the camera saw the act, for I heard + his machine click, and I heard him say something under his breath that you + would hardly expect a mere man and a game-warden to say. But most men have + a good deal of the mother in them; and the old bird had acted with such + decision, such courage, such swift, compelling instinct, that any man, + short of the wildest savage, would have felt his heart quicken at the + sight. + </p> + <p> + “Just how compelling might that mother-instinct be?” I wondered. “Just how + much would that mother-love stand?” I had dropped to my knees, and on all + fours had crept up within about three feet of the bird. She still had + chance for flight. Would she allow me to crawl any nearer? Slowly, very + slowly, I stretched forward on my hands, like a measuring-worm, until my + body lay flat on the rocks, and my fingers were within three INCHES of + her. But her wings were twitching, a wild light danced in her eyes, and + her head turned toward the sea. + </p> + <p> + For a whole minute I did not stir. I was watching—and the wings + again began to tighten about the babies, the wild light in the eyes died + down, the long, sharp beak turned once more toward me. + </p> + <p> + Then slowly, very slowly, I raised my hand, touched her feathers with the + tip of one finger—with two fingers—with my whole hand, while + the loud camera click-clacked, click-clacked hardly four feet away! + </p> + <p> + It was a thrilling moment. I was not killing anything. I had no long-range + rifle in my hands, coming up against the wind toward an unsuspecting + creature hundreds of yards away. This was no wounded leopard charging me; + no mother-bear defending with her giant might a captured cub. It was only + a mother-bird, the size of a wild duck, with swift wings at her command, + hiding under those wings her own and another's young, and her own + boundless fear! + </p> + <p> + For the second time in my life I had taken captive with my bare hands a + free wild bird. No, I had not taken her captive. She had made herself a + captive; she had taken herself in the strong net of her mother-love. + </p> + <p> + And now her terror seemed quite gone. At the first touch of my hand I + think she felt the love restraining it, and without fear or fret she let + me reach under her and pull out the babies. But she reached after them + with her bill to tuck them back out of sight, and when I did not let them + go, she sidled toward me, quacking softly, a language that I perfectly + understood, and was quick to respond to. I gave them back, fuzzy and black + and white. She got them under her, stood up over them, pushed her wings + down hard around them, her stout tail down hard behind them, and together + with them pushed in an abandoned egg that was close at hand. Her own baby, + some one else's baby, and some one else's forsaken egg! She could cover no + more; she had not feathers enough. But she had heart enough; and into her + mother's heart she had already tucked every motherless egg and nestling of + the thousands of frightened birds, screaming and wheeling in the air high + over her head. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0143" id="link2H_4_0143"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE END + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0144" id="link2H_4_0144"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + REFERENCE LISTS FOR STORY-TELLING AND COLLATERAL READING + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0145" id="link2H_4_0145"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + REFERENCE LISTS FOR STORY-TELLING AND COLLATERAL READING + </h2> + <p> + (The grades assigned are merely suggestive, as some of the stories may be + used in higher or lower grades than here indicated.) + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0146" id="link2H_4_0146"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + NEW YEAR'S DAY + </h2> + <h3> + For grades 1-4. + </h3> + <p> + An All-the-Year-Round Story, in Poulsson, In the Child's World; Peter the + Stone-Cutter, in Macdonell, Italian Fairy Book; The Forest Full of + Friends, in Alden, Why the Chimes Rang. + </p> + <p> + For grades 5-8. + </p> + <p> + A Chinese New Year's in California, in Our Holidays Retold from St. + Nicholas; A New Year's Talk, in Stevenson, Days and Deeds (prose); Story + of the Year, in Andersen, Stories and Tales; The Animals' New Year's Eve, + in Lagerlof, Further Adventures of Nils. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0147" id="link2H_4_0147"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY + </h2> + <h3> + For grades 1-4. + </h3> + <p> + A Westfield Incident, in Moores, Abraham Lincoln, page 87; Lincoln and the + Little Horse, in Werner's Readings, no. 46; Lincoln and the Pig, in Gross, + Lincoln's Own Stories; Lincoln and the Small Dog, in Moores, Abraham + Lincoln, page 25. + </p> + <p> + For grades 5-6. + </p> + <p> + A Backwoods Boyhood, in Moores, Abraham Lincoln; Choosing Abe Lincoln + Captain, in Schauffler, Lincoln's Birthday; Following the Surveyor's + Chain, in Baldwin, Abraham Lincoln; His Good Memory of Names, in Gallaher, + Best Lincoln Stories; Lincoln and the Doorkeeper, in Gross, + </p> + <p> + Lincoln's Own Stories, page 78, Lincoln and the Unjust Client, in Moores, + Abraham Lincoln, page 46; Lincoln's Kindness to a Disabled Soldier, in + Gallaher, Best Lincoln Stories; The Clary's Grove Boys, in Noah Brooks, + Abraham Lincoln page 51; The Snow Boys, in Noah Brooks, Abraham Lincoln + page 122. + </p> + <p> + For grades 7-8. + </p> + <p> + Counsel Assigned, Andrews; He Knew lincoln, Tarbell; Lincoln and the + Sleeping Sentinel, Chittenden; Lincoln Remembered Him, in Gallaher, Best + Lincoln Stories; Lincoln's Springfield Farewell, in Moores, Abraham + lincoln, page 82; Perfect Tribute, Andrews. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0148" id="link2H_4_0148"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SAINT VALENTINE'S DAY + </h2> + <h3> + For grades 1-4. + </h3> + <p> + A Sunday Valentine, in White, When Molly was Six; Beauty and the Beast, in + Lang, Blue Fairy Book, East of the Sun and West of the Moon, in Lang, Blue + Fairy Book; The Fair One With Golden Locks, in Scudder, Children's Book; + The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood, in Scudder, Children's Book; The + Valentine (poem), in Brown, Fresh Posies. + </p> + <p> + For grades 5-6. + </p> + <p> + Gracieuse and Percinet, in D'Aulnoy, Fairy Tales; Jorinda and Joringel, in + Grimm, German Household Tales; The Day-Dream, Tennyson (poem), in + Story-Telling Poems; The Singing, Soaring Lark, in Grimm, German Household + Tales William and the Werewolf, in Darton, Wonder Book of Old Romance. + </p> + <p> + For grades 7-8. + </p> + <p> + As You Like It, Shakespeare; Brunhild, in Baldwin, Story of Siegfried; + Floris and Blanchefleur, in Darton, Wonder Book of Old Romance; Palamon + and Arcita, in Darton, Tales of the Canterbury Pilgrims; The Fair Maid of + Perth, Scott, chapters 2-6; The Singing Leaves, Lowell (poem); The + Tempest, Shakespeare. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0149" id="link2H_4_0149"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY + </h2> + <h3> + For grades 1-4. + </h3> + <p> + Little George Washington, and Great George Washington, in Wiggin and + Smith, Story Hour; The Virginia Boy, in Wilson, Nature Study, Second + Reader. + </p> + <p> + For grades 54. + </p> + <p> + A Christmas Surprise, in Tappan, American Hero Stories Dolly Madison, in + Tappan, American Hero Stories; Going to Sea, in Scudder, George + Washington, page 33; How George Washington was Made Commander-in-Chief, in + Tomlinson, War for Independence; The Home of Washington, and The + Appearance of the Enemy, in Madison, Peggy Owen at Yorktown; Young + Washington in the Woods, in Eggleston, Strange Stories from History. + </p> + <p> + For grades 7-8. + </p> + <p> + Anecdotes and Stories, in Schauffler, Washington's Birthday; He Resigns + his Commission, in Lodge, George Washington, vol. I, page 338; The British + at Mount Vernon, in Lodge, George Washington, vol. I, page 295; The Young + Surveyor, in Scudder, George Washington; Washington Offered the Supreme + Power, in Lodge, George Washington, vol. I, page 328; Washington's + Farewell to His Officers, in Lodge, George Washington, vol. I, page 387. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0150" id="link2H_4_0150"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + RESURRECTION DAY (EASTER) + </h2> + <h3> + For grades 1-4. + </h3> + <p> + Easter Eggs, von Schmid; The Boy Who Discovered the Spring, in Alden, Why + the Chimes Rang; Herr Oster Hase, in Bailey and Lewis, For the Children's + Hour; The Legend of Easter Eggs, O'Brien (poem), in Story-Telling Poems; + The Rabbit's Ransom, Vawter; The White Hare, in Stevenson, Days and Deeds + (prose). + </p> + <p> + For grades 5-8. + </p> + <p> + Easter, Gilder (poem); The General's Easter Box, in Our Holidays Retold + from St. Nicholas; The Trinity Flower, Ewing; What Easter is, in + Stevenson, Days and Deeds (prose). + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0151" id="link2H_4_0151"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MAY DAY + </h2> + <h3> + For grades 1-4. + </h3> + <p> + A Story of the Springtime, in Kupfer, Legends of Greeee and Rome; How the + Water Lily Came, in Judd, Wigwam Stories; The Brook in the King's Garden, + in Alden, Why the Chimes Rang; The Legend of the Dandelion, in Bailey and + Lewis, For the Children's Hour; The Lilac Bush, in Riverside Fourth + Reader; The Maple Leaf and the Violet, in Wiggin and Smith, Story Flour; + The Story of the Anemone in Coe, First Book of Stories for the + Story-Teller; The Story of the First Butterflies, in Holbrook, Book of + Nature Myths; The Story of the First Snowdrops, in Holbrook, Book of + Nature Myths; The Story of the Rainbow, in Coe, First Book of Stories for + the Story-Teller; Two Little Seeds, in MacDonald, David Elginbrod, + chapter, “The Cave in the Straw;” Why the Morning-Glory Climbs, in Bryant, + How to Tell Stories to Children. + </p> + <p> + For grades 5-6. + </p> + <p> + Ladders to Heaven, Ewing; The Daisy, in Andersen, Wonder Stories; Five out + of One Shell, in Andersen, Stories and Tales; The Pomegranate Seeds, in + Hawthorne, Tanglewood Tales. + </p> + <p> + For grades 7-8. + </p> + <p> + The May-Pole at Merry Mount, in Hawthorne, Twice-Told Tales; The Opening + of the Eyes of Jasper, in Dyer The Richer Life; The Prisoner and the + Flower, in Stevenson, Days and Deeds (prose). + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0152" id="link2H_4_0152"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MOTHERS' DAY + </h2> + <h3> + For grades 1-4. + </h3> + <p> + Hans and the Wonderful Flower, in Bailey and Lewis For the Children's + Hour; The Closing Door, in Lindsay Mother Stories; The Laughter of a + Samurai, in Nixon-Roulet, Japanese Folk-Stories; The Fairy Who Came to our + House, in Bailey and Lewis, For the Children's Hour; The Little Traveler, + in Lindsay, Mother Stories; Thorwald and the Star-Children, in Boyesen, + Modern Vikings. + </p> + <p> + For grades 5-6. + </p> + <p> + Lincoln's Letter to a Mother, in Moores, Abraham Lincoln, page 105; My + Angel Mother, in Baldwin, Abraham Lincoln; Napoleon and the English Sailor + Boy, Campbell (poem), in Story-Telling Poems; The Song of the Old Mother, + Yeats (poem), in Riverside Eighth Reader; Valentine and Ursine (poem), in + Lanier, Boy's Perey. + </p> + <p> + For grades 7-8. + </p> + <p> + A Patriot Mother, in Tomlinson, War for Independence; Lincoln's Letter, in + Gross, Lincoln's Own Stories; President for One Hour, in St. Nicholas + Christmas Book; The Conqueror's Grave, Bryant (poem); The Gracci, in + Morris, Historical Tales (Roman); The Knight's Toast attributed to Scott + (poem), in Story-Telling Poems; Young Manhood, in Noah Brooks, Abraham + Lincoln. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0153" id="link2H_4_0153"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MEMORIAL AND FLAG DAYS + </h2> + <h3> + For grades 3-6. + </h3> + <p> + A Boy Who Won the Cross, in Hart and Stevens, Romance of the Civil War; A + Story of the Flag, in Our Holidays Retold from St. Nicholas; Betsy's + Battle Flag, Irving (poem), in Stevenson, Poems of American History; + Noteworthy Flag Incidents, in Smith, Our Nation's Flag; The Legs of Duncan + Ketcham, in Price, Lads and Lassies of Other Days; The Origin of Memorial + Day, in Stevenson, Days and Deeds (prose); The Planting of the Colors, in + Thomas, Captain Phil, page 227. + </p> + <p> + For grades 7-8. + </p> + <p> + Kearny at Seven Pines, Stedman (poem); Quivira, Guiterman (poem), in + Story-Telling Poems; Reading the List, in Sehauffler, Memorial Day; + Remember the Alamo, in Lodge and Roosevelt, Hero Tales, Reuben James, + Roche, (poem), in Story-Telling Poems; The Defense of the Alamo, Miller + (poem), in Stevenson, Poems of American History; The Fire Rekindled, in + Schauffler, Memorial Day; The Flag-Bearer, in Lodge and Roosevelt, Hero + Tales; The March of the First Brigade, in Riverside Eighth Reader. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0154" id="link2H_4_0154"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + INDEPENDENCE DAY + </h2> + <h3> + For grades S-6. + </h3> + <p> + A Winter at Valley Forge, in Tappan, American Hero Stories; Cornwallis's + Buckles, in Revolutionary Stories Retold from St. Nicholas; Ethan Allen, + in Johonnot, Stories of Heroic Deeds; Fourth of July Among the Indians, in + Indian Stories Retold from St. Nicholas; How “Mad Anthony” Took Stony + Point, in Tappan, American Hero Stories; How the “Swamp Fox” Made the + British Miserable, in Tappan, American Hero Stories; John Paul Jones, in + Tappan, American Hero Stories; Laetitia and the Redcoats, in Revolutionary + Stories Retold from St. Nicholas; Molly Pitcher, in Revolutionary Stories + Retold from St. Nicholas; Paul Revere's Ride Longfellow (poem), in + Story-Telling Poems; Prescott and the Yankee Boy, in Johonnot, Stories of + Heroic Deeds; Rodney's Ride, Brooks (poem), in Story-Telling Poems; The + Boston Massacre, in Hawthorne, Grandfather's Chair; The Bulb of the + Crimson Tulip, in Revolutionary Stories Retold from St Nicholas; The First + Day of the Revolution, in Tappan; American Hero Stories. + </p> + <p> + For grades 7-8. + </p> + <p> + A Woman's Heroism, in Tomlinson, War for Independence; Grandmother's Story + of Bunker-Hill Battle, Holmes (poem); How the Major Joined Marion's Men, + in Tomlinson, War for Independence; Molly Pitcher, Sherwood (poem), in + Stevenson, Poems of American History; Patrick Henry, in Morris Historical + Tales, American, Second Series; Song of Marion's Men, Bryant (poem); That + Bunker Hill Powder, in Revolutionary Stories Retold from St. Nicholas; The + Mantle of St. John de Matha, Whittier (poem); The Tory's Farewell, in + Hawthorne, Grandfather's Chair. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0155" id="link2H_4_0155"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LABOR DAY + </h2> + <h3> + For grades 1-4. + </h3> + <p> + Dust Under the Rug, in Lindsay, Mother Stories, Giant Energy and Fairy + Skill, in Lindsay, Mother Stories; How Flax was Given to Men, in Holbrook, + Book of Nature Myths; My Friend the Housekeeper, in Riverside Fourth + Reader, + </p> + <p> + Peasant Truth, in Riverside Third Reader; Prometheus, the Giver of Fire in + Coe, First Book of Stories for the Story-Teller; Six Soldiers of Fortune, + in Grimm, German Household Tales; The Country Maid and her Milk-Pail, in + Scudder, Book of Fables and Folk-Stories; The Flax, in Andersen, Wonder + Stories; The Hammer and the Anvil, in Ramaswami Raju, Indian Fables; The + Honest Woodman, in Poulsson, In the Child's World; The Little Gray Pony, + in Lindsay, Mother Stories; The Little House in the Wood, in Grimm, German + Household Tales; The Old Man Who Lived in a Wood (poem), in Story-Telling + Poems; The Pixy Flower, in Rhys, Fairy-Gold; The Spandies, in Gilchrist, + Helen and the Uninvited Guests, page 15; The Three Trades, in Grimm, + German Household Tales; The Toy of the Giant's Child, von Chamisso (poem), + in Story-Telling Poems; Vegetable Lambs, in Curtis, Story of Cotton; + Vulcan the Mighty Smith, in Poulsson, In the Child's World. + </p> + <p> + For grades 5-6. A Handful of Clay, in Riverside Sixth Reader; How they + Built the Ship Argo in Iolcos, in Kingsley, Greek Heroes; Icarus and + DEedalus, in Peabody, Old Greek Folk-Stones; Master of All Masters, in + Jacobs, English Fairy Tales; The Dwarf's Gifts, in Brown, In the Days of + Giants; The Forging of Balmung, in Baldwin, Hero Tales; The Giant Builder, + in Brown, In the Days of Giants; The God of Fire, in Francillon, Gods and + Heroes; The Wicked Hornet, in Baldwin, The Sampo; The Wish-Ring, in Fairy + Stories Retold from St. Nicholas; The Wounds of Labor, in d'Amicis, Heart + (Cuore); Weland's Sword, in Kipling, Puck of Pook's Hill. + </p> + <p> + For grades 74. Careers of Danger and Daring, Moffett; David Maydole, + Hammer-Maker, in Riverside Seventh Reader; Jack Farley's Flying Switch, in + Warman, Short Rails; Histories of Two Boys, in Riverside Seventh Reader; + History of Labor Day, in Stevenson, Days and Deeds (prose); The Arms of + Aeneas, in Church, Stories from Virgil; The Blacksmith Boy and the Battle, + in Marden, Winning Out; The Duke's Armorer, in Stories of Chivalry Retold + from St. Nicholas; The Scullion Boy's Opportunity, in Marden, Winning Out; + The Vision of Anton the Clockmaker, in Dyer, The Richer Life, Tubal Cain, + Mackay (poem), in Story-Telling Poems. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0156" id="link2H_4_0156"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + COLUMBUS DAY + </h2> + <h3> + For grades 4-8. + </h3> + <p> + Columbus, Miller (poem), in Riverside Seventh Reader; Columbus at the + Convent, Trowbridge (poem), in Stevenson, Poems of American History; + Guanahani, in Maores, Christopher Columbus; How Diego Mendez Got Food for + Columbus in Higginson, American Explorers; How Diego Mendez Saved + Columbus, in Higginson, American Explorers; In Search of the Grand Khan, + in Moores, Christopher Columbus; The Garden of Eden, in Moores, + Christopher Columbus. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0157" id="link2H_4_0157"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + HALLOWEEN + </h2> + <h3> + For grades 1-4. + </h3> + <p> + The Smith and the Fairies, in Grierson, Children's Book of Celtic Stories; + The Witch, in Lang, Yellow Fairy Book; The Witch That was a Hare, in Rhys, + English Fairy Book; Tom-Tit Tot (Rumpelstiltskin), in Jacobs, English + Fairy Tales. + </p> + <p> + For grades 5-6. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Fox, in Jacobs, English Fairy Tales; The Godfather, in Grimm, German + Household Tales; The Golden Arm, in Jacobs, Enylish Fairy Tales; The + Robber Bridegroom, in Grimm, German Household Tales; The Story of a Cat, + Bedoliere; The Youth Who Could not Shiver or Shake, in Grimm, German + Household Tales. + </p> + <p> + For grades 7-8. + </p> + <p> + Alice Brand, in Scott, Lady of the Lake (poem); All-Hallow-Eve Myths, in + Our Holidays Retold from St. Nicholas; Black Andie's Tale of Tod Lapraik, + in Stevenson, David Balfour; History of Hallowe'en, in Stevenson, Days and + Deeds (prose); Legend of Sleepy Hollow, and Rip Van Winkle Irving; + Macbeth, Shakespeare; The Bottle Imp, in Stevenson, Island Nights' + Entertainments; The Devil and Tom Walker, Irving; The Fire-King, Scott + (poem); The Speaking Rat, in Dickens, Uncommercial Traveller, chapter 15. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0158" id="link2H_4_0158"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THANKSGIVING DAY + </h2> + <h3> + For grades 1-4 + </h3> + <p> + A Thanksgiving Dinner, in White, When Molly was Six; The Chestnut Boys, in + Poulsson, In the Child's World; The First Thanksgiving Day, in Wiggin and + Smith, Story Hour; The Marriage of Mondahmin, in Judd, Wigwam Stories; The + Turkey's Nest, in Lindsay, More Mother Stories; The Visit, in Lindsay, + More Mother Stories; Turkeys Turning the Tables, in Howells, Christmas + Every Day. + </p> + <p> + For grades 5-6. + </p> + <p> + A Dinner That Ran Away, in Miller, Kristy's Surprise Party; A Mystery in + the Kitchen, in Miller, Kristy's Surprise Party; Ann Mary, Her Two + Thanksgivings, in Wilkins, Young Lueretia; An Old-Time Thanksgiving, in + Indian Stories Retold from St. Nicholas; The Coming of Thanksgiving, and + The Season of Pumpkin Pies, in Warner, Being a Boy; The Magic Apples, in + Brown, In the Days of Giants; St. Francis's Sermon to the Birds, + Longfellow (poem), in Story-Telling Poems. + </p> + <p> + For grades 7-8. + </p> + <p> + An Old-Fashioned Thanksgiving, Alcott; The First Thanksgiving Day, Preston + (poem), in Story-Telling Poems; The Night Before Thanksgiving, in Jewett, + The Queen's Twin; The Peace Message (poem), in Stevenson, Poems of + American History; The Turkey Drive, in Sharp, Winter. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0159" id="link2H_4_0159"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHRISTMAS DAY + </h2> + <h3> + For grades 1-4. + </h3> + <p> + A Christmas Tree Reversed, in Brown, Little Miss Phoebe Gay; Babouseka, + Thomas (poem), in Story-Telling Poems; Christmas Every Day, Howells; + Fulfilled, in Bryant, How to Tell Stories to Children; His Christmas + Turkey, in Vawter, The Rabbi's Ransom; In the Great Walled Country, in + Alden, Why the Chimes Rang; Little Girl's Christmas, in Dickinson and + Skinner, Children's Book of Christmas Stories; Santa Claus and the Mouse, + Poulsson (poem), in St. Nicholas Christmas Book; The Christmas Cake, in + Lindsay, More Mother Stories; The Christmas Tree, in Austin, Basket Woman; + The First New England Christmas, in Stone and Fickett, Every-Day Life in + the Colonies; The Golden Cobwebs, in Bryant, How to Tell Stories to + Children; The Moon of Yule, in Davis, The Moons of Balbanea; The Rileys' + Christmas, in White, When Molly was Six; The Story of Gretchen in Lindsay, + Mother Stories; The Three Kings of Cologne, Field (poem), in Story-Telling + Poems; The Turkey Doll, Gates; The Voyage of the Wee Red Cap, in Dickinson + and Skinner, Children's Book of Christmas Stories; Toinette and the Elves, + in Dickinson and Skinner, Children's Book of Christmas Stones; 'Twas the + Night Before Christmas, Moore (poem); Why the Chimes Rang, Alden. + </p> + <p> + For grades 5-6. + </p> + <p> + Christmas Before Last, in Stockton, Bee-Man of Orn; Christmas in the + Alley, in Miller, Kristy's Queer Christmas; Dog of Flanders, Ramee; Felix, + in Stein, Troubadour Tales; Good King Wenceslas (poem), in Story-Telling + Poems; Hope's Christmas Tree, in Miller, Kristy's Surprise Party, How a + Bear Brought Christmas, in Miller, Kristy's Queer Christmas; How Santa + Claus Came to Simpson's Bar, in Harte, Luck of Roaring Camp; How Uncle Sam + Observes Christmas, in Our Holidays Retold from St. Nicholas; Lottie's + Christmas Tree, in Miller, Kristy's Rainy Day Picnic; St. Nicholas and the + Innkeeper, in Walsh, Story of Santa Klaus; St. Nicholas and the Robbers, + in Walsh, Story of Santa Klaus; St. Nicholas and the Slave Boy, in Walsh, + Story of Santa Klaus; Santa Claus on a Lark, Gladden; Solomon Crow's + Christmas Pockets, Stuart; The Birds' Christmas Carol, Wiggin; The Coming + of the Prince, in Field, Christmas Tales and Christmas Verse; The Festival + of St. Nicholas, in Dodge, Hans Brinker; The Peace Egg, Ewing; The Symbol + and the Saint, in Field, Christmas Tales and Christmas Verse. + </p> + <p> + For grades 7-8. + </p> + <p> + A Christmas Carol, Dickens; A Still Christmas, Repplier, in Morris, In the + Yule-Log Glow; The First Christmas Tree, Van Dyke; The Lost Word, Van + Dyke; The Mansion, Van Dyke; The Other Wise Man, Van Dyke; Cosette, in + Hugo, Les Miserables, book 3; Where Love is, There God is Also, Tolstoy. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0160" id="link2H_4_0160"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ARBOR DAY + </h2> + <h3> + For grades 1-4. + </h3> + <p> + Flower of the Almond and Fruit of the Fig, in Foote, Little Fig-Tree + Stories; Earl and the Dryad, in Brown, Star Jewels; The Girl Who Became a + Pine Tree, in Judd, Wigwam Stories; The Kind Old Oak, in Poulsson, In the + Child's World; The Oak Tree, in Vawter, The Rabbit's Ransom; The Workman + and the Trees, in Ramaswami Raju, Indian Fables. + </p> + <p> + For grades 5-6. + </p> + <p> + Apple-Seed John, Child (poem), in Story-Telling Poems; How the Children + Saved Hamburg, in Marden, Winning Out; How the Indians Learned to Make + Maple Sugar, in University of the State of New York, Legends and Poetry of + the Forests; Old Pipes and the Dryad, in Stockton, Bee-Man of Orn; Tale of + Old Man and the Birch Tree, in University of the State of New York, + Legends and Poetry of the Forests; The Elm and the Vine, Rosas (poem), in + Story-Telling Poems; The Gourd and the Palm (poem), in Story-Telling + Poems; The Planting of the Apple Tree, Bryant (poem), in Riverside Fifth + Reader. + </p> + <p> + For grades 7-8. + </p> + <p> + Brier-Rose, Boyesen (poem), in Story-Telling Poems; How the Charter was + Saved, in Morris, Historical Tales, American; O-So-Ah, the Tall Pine + Speaks, in University of the State of New York, Legends and Poetry of the + Forests; The Eliot Oak, in Drake, New England Legends; The First of the + Trees, in University of the State of New York, Legends and Poetry of the + Forests; The Liberty Tree, in Hawthorne, Grandfather's Chair, part 3. + chapter 2; The Plucky Prince, May Bryant (poem), in Story-Telling Poems; + The Story of a Thousand-Year Pine, Mills; The Washington Elm, in Drake, + New England Legends. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0161" id="link2H_4_0161"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BIRD DAY + </h2> + <h3> + For grades 1-4. + </h3> + <p> + Out of the Nest, in Lindsay, More Mother Stories; The Fox and the Crow, in + Jacobs, Aesop's Fables; The Jackdaw and the Doves, in Scudder, Book of + Fables and Folk-Stories; The Jay and the Peacock, in Jacobs, Aesop's + Fables; The King, the Falcon, and the Drinking Cup, in Dutton, The + Tortoise and the Geese; The Lark and her Young Ones, in Scudder, Book of + Fables and Folk-Stories; The Monk and the Bird, in Scudder, Book of + legends; The Owl and his School, in Ramaswami Raju, Indian Fables; The Owl + and the Pussy-Cat, Lear (poem), in Story-Telling Poems; The Partridge and + the Crow, in Dutton, The Tortoise and the Geese; The Pious Robin, in + Brown, Curious Book of Birds; The Rustic and the Nightingale, in Dutton, + The Tortoise and the Geese; The Sparrows, Thaxter (poem), in Story-Telling + Poems; The Sparrows and the Snake, in Dutton, The Tortoise and the Geese; + The Spendthrift and the Swallow, in Scudder, Book of Fables and + Folk-Stories; The Story of the First Mocking-Bird, in Holbrook, Book of + Nature Myths; The Story of the Oriole, in Holbrook, Book of Nature Myths; + The Wren Who Brought Fire, in Brown, Curious Book of Birds; Why the + Peacock's Tail has a Hundred Eyes, in Holbrook, Book of Nature Myths; Why + the Peetweet Cries for Rain, in Holbrook, Book of Nature Myths. + </p> + <p> + For grades 5-6. + </p> + <p> + A Madcap Thrush, in Miller, True Bird Stories; Antics in the Bird Room, in + Miller, True Bird Stories; Fate of the Children of Lir, in Grierson, + Children's Book of Celtie Stories; Halcyone, in Brown, Curious Book of + Birds; St. Francis's Sermon to the Birds, Longfellow (poem), in + Story-Telling Poems; Saint Kentigern and the Robin, in Brown, Book of + Saints and Friendly Beasts; The Donkey and the Mocking-Bird, Rosas (poem), + in Story-Telling Poems; The Early Girl, in Brown, Curious Book of Birds; + The Nightingale, in Andersen, Wonder Stories; The Parrot, Campbell (poem), + in Story-Telling Poems, The Phoenix, in Brown, Curious Book of Birds; The + Robin, Whittier (poem); The Sauey Oriole, in Miller, True Bird Stories; + The Wild Swans, in Andersen, Wonder Stories; Walter son der Vogelweid, + Longfellow (poem). + </p> + <p> + For grades 7-8. + </p> + <p> + Arnaux, the Chronicle of a Homing Pigeon, in Thompson-Seton, Animal + Heroes; King Edwin's Feast, Chadwiek (poem), in Story-Telling Poems; Our + New Neighbors at Ponkapog, in Riverside Seventh Reader; The Abbot of + Inisfalen, Allingham (poem), in Story-Telling Poems; The Birds of + Killingworth, Longfellow (poem); The Downy Woodpecker, in Bird Stories + from Burroughs; The Eagle, Tennyson (poem); The Emperor's Bird's-Nest, + Longfellow (poem), in Story-Telling Poems; The Falcon of Ser Federigo, + Longfellow (poem); The Gulls, in Breck, Wilderness Pets, pages 103, 161; + The House Wren, in Bird Stories from Burroughs; The Keeper of the Nest, in + Roberts, The Feet of the Furtive; The Screech Owl, in Bird Stories from + Burroughs; The Song Sparrow, in Bird Stories from Burroughs. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Good Stories For Great Holidays, by +Frances Jenkins Olcott + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GOOD STORIES FOR GREAT HOLIDAYS *** + +***** This file should be named 359-h.htm or 359-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/359/ + +Produced by Mike Lough, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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