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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: School Reading by Grades + Sixth Year + +Author: James Baldwin + +Release Date: July 26, 2011 [EBook #36864] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCHOOL READING BY GRADES *** + + + + +Produced by Larry B. Harrison and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + + +<h1>SCHOOL READING BY GRADES</h1> + +<p> </p> + +<h2><i>SIXTH YEAR</i></h2> + +<p> </p> + +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>JAMES BALDWIN</h2> + +<p> <a name="Title" id="Title"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> + <a name="p0001-illus.jpg" id="p0001-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0001-illus.jpg" width="350" height="421" alt="A portrait" title="" /> +</div> + +<p> </p> + +<h3>NEW YORK ◇ CINCINNATI ◇ CHICAGO</h3> +<h2>AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY</h2> + +<hr /> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1897, by</span></h4> +<h3>AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY.</h3> + +<p> </p> + +<h4>SCH. READ. SIXTH YEAR.<br /> +W. P. 12</h4> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> +<h2>PREFACE.</h2> + +<p>The pupil who is in his sixth year at school should be able to read +quite well. He should be able to pronounce at sight and without hesitation +all new or unusual words; and when reading aloud, his tones should +be so clear, his enunciation so faultless, and his manner so agreeable +that his hearers shall listen with pleasure and shall have a ready understanding +of whatever is being read. He is now prepared to devote more +and more attention to literary criticism—that is, to the study of the +peculiarities of style which distinguish any selection, the passages which +are remarkable for their beauty, their truth, or their adaptation to the +particular purpose for which they were written. The habit should be +cultivated of looking for and enjoying the admirable qualities of any +literary production, and particularly of such productions as are generally +recognized as the classics of our language. While learning to distinguish +between good literature and that sort of writing which, properly speaking, +is not literature at all, the pupil's acquaintance with books is enlarged +and extended. He learns to know what are the best books and why +they are so considered; and he acquires some knowledge of the lives of +the best authors and of the circumstances under which certain of their +works were produced.</p> + +<p>The present volume is designed to aid the learner in the acquisition of +all these ends. The selections are of a highly interesting character, and +illustrate almost every variety of English composition. To assist in their +comprehension, many of the selections are introduced or followed by +brief historical or bibliographical notes. Hints also are given as to collateral, +or supplementary readings on a variety of subjects. To assist the +pupil still further to enlarge his acquaintance with books and authors, +additional notes, literary and biographical, are given in the appendix; +here also may be found several pages of brief notes explanatory of difficult +passages, unusual expressions, and historical references, such as +might otherwise be stumbling stones in the way of the learner. The +numerous portraits of authors is another important feature designed to +add to the interest and beauty of the book, and to assist the pupil to a +more intimate acquaintance with the makers of our literature. Most of +the full-page pictures are reproductions of famous paintings, and these, +while serving as illustrations of the text which they accompany, are +designed to introduce the learner to some of the masters of art also, and +perform the more important office of cultivating and enlarging his æsthetic +tastes and sympathies.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + +<table class="toc" summary="Contents"> +<tr> +<td class="c1"> </td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><small>PAGE</small></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Two Ways of Telling a Story</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Jean Ingelow</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Death of the Flowers</td> +<td class="c2"><i>William Cullen Bryant</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Great Volcanic Eruption</td> +<td class="c2"><i>J. T. Van Gestel</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Return of Columbus</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Washington Irving</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">What the Sunbeams do</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Arabella B. Buckley</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Horatius at the Bridge</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Thomas Babington Macaulay</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">How Sir Francis Drake sailed round<br /> the World</td> +<td class="c2"><i>James A. Froude</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">A Brave Rescue and a Rough Ride</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Richard D. Blackmore</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Glory of God</td> +<td class="c2"><i>From the Psalms of David</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Battle of Bannockburn</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Sir Walter Scott</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Soldier's Dream</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Thomas Campbell</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Lord Ullin's Daughter</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Thomas Campbell</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Story of Tempe Wick</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Frank R. Stockton</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Life in Norman England</td> +<td class="c2"><i>W. F. Collier</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Romance of the Swan's Nest</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Elizabeth Barrett Browning</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_98">98</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">A Patriarch of the Olden Time</td> +<td class="c2"><i>From the "Book of Job"</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">How Cortés entered the City of<br /> Mexico</td> +<td class="c2"><i>William H. Prescott</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_104">104</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Skylark</td> +<td class="c2"><i>James Hogg</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Mystery of the Tadpole</td> +<td class="c2"><i>George Henry Lewes</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Glove and the Lions</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Leigh Hunt</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">True Growth</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Ben Jonson</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Shipwreck</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Charles Dickens</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Happy Valley</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Dr. Samuel Johnson</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_135">135</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Pass of Killiecrankie</td> +<td class="c2"><i>W. E. Aytoun</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Summer Rain</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Henry Ward Beecher</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Life in the Backwoods</td> +<td class="c2"><i>William Dean Howells</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_146">146</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">How they besieged the Town</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Charles Reade</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_153">153</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Lochinvar</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Sir Walter Scott</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_163">163</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">On a Tropical River</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Charles Kingsley</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Flag of Our Country</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Robert C. Winthrop</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire,<br /> 1571</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Jean Ingelow</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Story of Thomas Becket</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"> </td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1"> I. His Life</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Anonymous</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_181">181</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1"> II. His Death</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Arthur Penrhyn Stanley</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Pilgrims (1620)</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Edward Everett</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_191">191</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Landing of the Pilgrims</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Felicia Hemans</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_195">195</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Patriotism</td> +<td class="c2"><i>William Cowper</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_196">196</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Robin</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Charles Conrad Abbott</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_197">197</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Motions of Birds</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Gilbert White</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_200">200</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Origin of Rivers</td> +<td class="c2"><i>John Tyndall</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Address at the Dedication of Gettysburg<br /> Cemetery</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Abraham Lincoln</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The American Flag</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Joseph Rodman Drake</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_206">206</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Last Fight in the Coliseum,<br /> <span class="smcap">A.D.</span> 404</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Charlotte M. Yonge</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_208">208</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Passing of Arthur</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Alfred Tennyson</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_216">216</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1"> </td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"> </td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1"><span class="smcap">The Principles of Good Reading</span></td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1"><span class="smcap">Authors and Books</span></td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_228">228</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1"><span class="smcap">Explanatory Notes</span></td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_235">235</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p> </p> + +<h3>FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS.</h3> + +<table class="toc" summary="Contents"> +<tr> +<td class="c1"> </td> +<td class="c2"> <small>ARTIST</small></td> +<td class="c3"> </td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Columbus at Barcelona</td> +<td class="c2"><i>R. Balaca</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Defense of the Bridge</td> +<td class="c2"><i>A. I. Keller</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Ruins of a Norman Castle</td> +<td class="c2"><i>From a photograph</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_89">90</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Lions</td> +<td class="c2"><i>Rosa Bonheur</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Shipwreck</td> +<td class="c2"><i>A. Marlon</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_129">129</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Canterbury Cathedral</td> +<td class="c2"><i>From a photograph</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_188">187</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Departure of the Mayflower</td> +<td class="c2"><i>A. W. Bayes</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">The Last Prayer—Christian Martyrs<br /> in the Coliseum</td> +<td class="c2"><i>J. L. Gerome</i></td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_211">212</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> +<h3>PORTRAITS OF AUTHORS.</h3> + +<table class="toc" summary="Contents"> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Washington Irving</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Title">Title-page</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Thomas Babington Macaulay</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">James Anthony Froude</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Thomas Campbell</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Frank R. Stockton</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Elizabeth Barrett Browning</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_98">98</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">William H. Prescott</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_104">104</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">George Henry Lewes</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_113">113</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Leigh Hunt</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Charles Dickens</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Dr. Samuel Johnson</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_135">135</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Henry Ward Beecher</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">William Dean Howells</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_146">146</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Charles Reade</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_153">153</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Charles Kingsley</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Jean Ingelow</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Arthur Penrhyn <a name="Stanley" id="Stanley"></a>Stanley</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_191">191</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Edward Everett</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_192">192</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">John Tyndall</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Abraham Lincoln</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Joseph Rodman Drake</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_206">206</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="c1">Charlotte M. Yonge</td> +<td class="c2"> </td> +<td class="c3"><a href="#Page_208">208</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p> </p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>Acknowledgments are due to the following persons for their courteous permission +to use valuable selections from their works: Dr. Charles C. Abbott +for the essay on "The Robin"; Mr. William Dean Howells for his sketch of +"Life in the Backwoods"; The J. B. Lippincott Company for the selections +from Prescott's "Conquest of Mexico" and Abbott's "Birdland Echoes"; +and Mr. Frank R. Stockton for "The Story of Tempe Wicke."</p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> +<h1>SCHOOL READING.</h1> +<h2>SIXTH YEAR.</h2> + + +<hr /> +<h2>TWO WAYS OF TELLING A STORY.</h2> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h3>I.</h3> + +<p>Who is this? A careless little midshipman, idling +about in a great city, with his pockets full of money.</p> + +<p>He is waiting for the coach: it comes up presently, +and he gets on the top of it, and looks about him.</p> + +<p>They soon leave the chimney pots behind them; his +eyes wander with delight over the harvest fields, he +smells the honeysuckle in the hedgerow, and he wishes +he was down among the hazel bushes, that he might +strip them of the milky nuts; then he sees a great wain +piled up with barley, and he wishes he was seated on the +top of it; then they go through a little wood, and he +likes to see the checkered shadows of the trees lying +across the white road; and then a squirrel runs up a +bough, and he can not forbear to whoop and halloo, +though he can not chase it to its nest.</p> + +<p>The other passengers are delighted with his simplicity +and childlike glee; and they encourage him to talk to +them about the sea and ships, especially Her Majesty's +ship "The Asp," wherein he has the honor to sail. In the + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +jargon of the sea, he describes her many perfections, and +enlarges on her peculiar advantages; he then confides to +them how a certain middy, having been ordered to the +masthead as a punishment, had seen, while sitting on the +topmast crosstrees, something uncommonly like the sea +serpent—but, finding this hint received with incredulous +smiles, he begins to tell them how he hopes that, some +day, he shall be promoted to have charge of the poop. +The passengers hope he will have that honor; they have +no doubt he deserves it. His cheeks flush with pleasure +to hear them say so, and he little thinks that they have +no notion in what "that honor" may happen to consist.</p> + +<p>The coach stops: the little midshipman, with his +hands in his pockets, sits rattling his money, and singing. +There is a poor woman standing by the door of +the village inn; she looks careworn, and well she may, +for, in the spring, her husband went up to the city to +seek for work. He got work, and she was expecting +soon to join him there, when alas! a fellow-workman +wrote her word how he had met with an accident, how +he was very ill and wanted his wife to come and nurse +him. But she has two young children, and is destitute; +she must walk up all the way, and she is sick at heart +when she thinks that perhaps he may die among strangers +before she can reach him.</p> + +<p>She does not think of begging, but seeing the boy's +eyes attracted to her, she makes him a courtesy, and he +withdraws his hand and throws her down a sovereign. +She looks at it with incredulous joy, and then she looks +at him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> + "It's all right," he says, and the coach starts again, +while, full of gratitude, she hires a cart to take her across +the country to the railway, that the next night she may +sit by the bedside of her sick husband.</p> + +<p>The midshipman knows nothing about that; and he +never will know.</p> + +<p>The passengers go on talking—the little midshipman +has told them who he is, and where he is going; but +there is one man who has never joined in the conversation; +he is dark-looking and restless; he sits apart; he +has seen the glitter of the falling coin, and now he +watches the boy more narrowly than before.</p> + +<p>He is a strong man, resolute and determined; the boy +with the pockets full of money will be no match for him. +The midshipman has told the other passengers that his +father's house is the parsonage at Y——; the coach goes +within five miles of it, and he means to get down at the +nearest point, and walk, or rather run over to his home, +through the great wood.</p> + +<p>The man decides to get down too, and go through the +wood; he will rob the little midshipman; perhaps, if he +cries out or struggles, he will do worse. The boy, he +thinks, will have no chance against him; it is quite impossible +that he can escape; the way is lonely, and the +sun will be down.</p> + +<p>No. There seems indeed little chance of escape; the +half-fledged bird just fluttering down from its nest has no +more chance against the keen-eyed hawk, than the little +light-hearted sailor boy will have against him—at least +so thinks the man as he makes his plans.</p> + + +<hr class="hr2" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> +<h3>II.</h3> + +<p>The coach reaches the village where the boy is to alight. +He wishes the other passengers "good evening," and runs +lightly down between the scattered houses. The man has +got down also, and is following.</p> + +<p>The path lies through the village churchyard; there is +evening service, and the door is wide open, for it is warm. +The little midshipman stops by the door, looks in, and +listens. The clergyman has just risen, and is giving out +his text. Thirteen months have past since the boy was +within a house of prayer; and a feeling of pleasure and +awe induces him to stand still and listen.</p> + +<p>"Are not two sparrows [he hears] sold for a farthing? +and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your +Father. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. +Fear ye not, therefore, ye are of more value than many +sparrows."</p> + +<p>He hears the opening sentences of the sermon; and +then he remembers his home, and comes softly out of the +porch, full of a calm and serious pleasure. The clergyman +has reminded him of his father, and his careless heart +is now filled with the echoes of his voice and of his prayers. +He thinks on what the clergyman said, of the care +of our heavenly Father for us; he remembers how, when +he left home, his father prayed that he might be preserved +through every danger; he does not remember any particular +danger that he has been exposed to, excepting in the +great storm; but he is grateful that he has come home in +safety, and he hopes whenever he shall be in danger, which + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +he supposes he shall be some day—he hopes, that then the +providence of God will watch over him, and protect him. +And so he presses onward to the entrance of the wood.</p> + +<p>The man is there before him. He has pushed himself +into the thicket, and cut a heavy club; he suffers the boy +to go on before, and then he comes out and follows him. +It is too light at present for his deed of darkness and +too near the entrance of the wood, but he knows that +shortly the path will branch off into two, and the right +one for the boy to take will be dark and lonely.</p> + +<p>But what prompts the little midshipman, when not fifty +yards from the branching of the path, to break into a +sudden run? It is not fear, for he never dreams of danger. +Some sudden impulse, or some wild wish for home, +makes him dash off suddenly, with a whoop and a bound. +On he goes, as if running a race; the path bends, and the +man loses sight of him. "But I shall have him yet," he +thinks; "he can not keep this pace up long."</p> + +<p>The boy has nearly reached the place where the path +divides, when he startles a young white owl that can +scarcely fly, and it goes whirring along, close to the +ground, before him. He gains upon it; another moment, +and it will be his. Now it gets the start again; they +come to the branching of the paths, and the bird goes +down the wrong one. The temptation to follow is too +strong to be resisted; he knows that somewhere, deep in +the wood, there is a cross track by which he can get into +the path he has left; if only he runs a little faster, he +shall be at home nearly as soon.</p> + +<p>On he rushes; the path takes a bend, and he is just out + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +of sight when his pursuer comes where the paths divide. +The boy has turned to the right; the man takes the left, +and the faster they both run the farther they are asunder.</p> + +<p>The white owl still leads him on; the path gets darker +and narrower; at last he finds that he has missed it altogether, +and his feet are on the soft ground. He flounders +about among the trees, vexed with himself, and panting +after his race. At last he finds another track, and pushes +on as fast as he can. He has lost his way—but he keeps +bearing to the left; and, though it is now dark, he thinks +that he must reach the main path sooner or later.</p> + +<p>He does not know this part of the wood, but he runs on. +O, little midshipman! why did you chase that owl? If +you had kept in the path with the dark man behind you, +there was a chance that you might have outrun him; or, +if he had overtaken you, some passing wayfarer might +have heard your cries, and come to save you. Now you +are running on straight to your death, for the forest water +is deep and black at the bottom of this hill. O, that the +moon might come out and show it to you!</p> + +<p>The moon is under a thick canopy of heavy black clouds; +and there is not a star to glitter on the water and make +it visible. The fern is soft under his feet as he runs and +slips down the sloping hill. At last he strikes his foot +against a stone, stumbles, and falls. Two minutes more +and he will roll into the black water.</p> + +<p>"Heyday!" cries the boy, "what's this? Oh, how it +tears my hands! Oh, this thorn bush! Oh, my arms! +I can't get free!" He struggles and pants. "All this +comes of leaving the path," he says; "I shouldn't have + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +cared for rolling down if it hadn't been for this bush. +The fern was soft enough. I'll never stray in a wood +at night again. There, free at last! And my jacket +nearly torn off my back!"</p> + +<p>With a good deal of patience, and a great many +scratches, he gets free of the thorn which had arrested +his progress, when his feet were within a yard of the +water, manages to scramble up the bank, and makes +the best of his way through the wood.</p> + +<p>And now, as the clouds move slowly onward, the moon +shows her face on the black surface of the water; and +the little white owl comes and hoots, and flutters over +it like a wandering snowdrift. But the boy is deep in +the wood again, and knows nothing of the danger from +which he has escaped.</p> + + +<hr class="hr2" /> +<h3>III.</h3> + +<p>All this time the dark passenger follows the main +track, and believes that his prey is before him. At +last he hears a crashing of dead boughs, and presently +the little midshipman's voice not fifty yards before him. +Yes, it is too true; the boy is in the cross track. He +will pass the cottage in the wood directly, and after that +his pursuer will come upon him.</p> + +<p>The boy bounds into the path; but, as he passes the +cottage, he is so thirsty that he thinks he must ask the +people if they will sell him a cup of tea.</p> + +<p>He enters without ceremony. "Tea?" says the woodman, +who is sitting at his supper. "No, we have no +tea; but perhaps my wife can give thee a drink of +milk. Come in." So he comes in, and shuts the door; + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +and, while he sits waiting for the milk, footsteps pass. +They are the footsteps of his pursuer, who goes on +with the club in his hand, and is angry and impatient +that he has not yet come up with him.</p> + +<p>The woman goes to her little dairy for the milk, and +the boy thinks she is a long time. He drinks it, thanks +her, and takes his leave.</p> + +<p>Fast and fast the man runs on, and, as fast as he can, +the boy runs after him. It is very dark, but there is a +yellow streak in the sky, where the moon is plowing +up a furrowed mass of gray cloud, and one or two +stars are blinking through the branches of the trees.</p> + +<p>Fast the boy follows, and fast the man runs on, with +his weapon in his hand. Suddenly he hears the joyish +whoop—not before, but behind him. He stops and +listens breathlessly. Yes, it is so. He pushes himself +into the thicket, and raises his club to strike when the +boy shall pass.</p> + +<p>On he comes, running lightly, with his hands in his +pockets. A sound strikes at the same instant on the +ears of both; and the boy turns back from the very +jaws of death to listen. It is the sound of wheels, and +it draws rapidly nearer. A man comes up, driving a +little gig.</p> + +<p>"Halloa?" he says, in a loud, cheerful voice. "What! +benighted, youngster?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, is it you, Mr. Davis?" says the boy; "no, I am +not benighted; or, at any rate, I know my way out of +the wood."</p> + +<p>The man draws farther back among the shrubs. + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +"Why, bless the boy," he hears the farmer say, "to +think of our meeting in this way. The parson told +me he was in hopes of seeing thee some day this week. +I'll give thee a lift. This is a lonely place to be in this +time o' night."</p> + +<p>"Lonely!" says the boy, laughing. "I don't mind +that; and if you know the way, it's as safe as the quarter-deck."</p> + +<p>So he gets into the farmer's gig, and is once more out +of reach of the pursuer. But the man knows that the +farmer's house is a quarter of a mile nearer than the parsonage, +and in that quarter of a mile there is still a chance +of committing the robbery. He determines still to make +the attempt, and cuts across the wood with such rapid +strides that he reaches the farmer's gate just as the gig +drives up to it.</p> + +<p>"Well, thank you, farmer," says the midshipman, as he +prepares to get down.</p> + +<p>"I wish you good night, gentlemen," says the man, +when he passes.</p> + +<p>"Good night, friend," the farmer replies. "I say, my +boy, it's a dark night enough; but I have a mind to +drive you on to the parsonage, and hear the rest of this +long tale of yours about the sea serpent."</p> + +<p>The little wheels go on again. They pass the man; +and he stands still in the road to listen till the sound dies +away. Then he flings his club into the hedge, and goes +back. His evil purposes have all been frustrated—the +thoughtless boy, without knowing anything about it, has +baffled him at every turn.</p> + + +<hr class="hr2" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> +<h3>IV.</h3> + +<p>And now the little midshipman is at home—the joyful +meeting has taken place; and when they have all +admired his growth, and measured his height on the window +frame, and seen him eat his supper, they begin to +question him about his adventures, more for the pleasure +of hearing him talk than any curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Adventures!" says the boy, seated between his father +and mother on a sofa. "Why, mother, I wrote you an +account of the voyage, and there's nothing else to tell. +Nothing happened to-day—at least nothing particular."</p> + +<p>"Did you come by the coach we told you of?" asks +his father.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, papa; and when we had got about twenty +miles, there came up a beggar, while we changed horses, +and I threw down, as I thought, a shilling, but, as it fell, +I saw it was a sovereign. She was very honest, and +showed me what it was, but I didn't take it back, for you +know, it's a long time since I gave anything to anybody."</p> + +<p>"Very true, my boy," his mother answers; "but you +should not be careless with your money.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you got down at the crossroads?" says his +elder brother.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and went through the wood. I should have +been here sooner if I hadn't lost my way there."</p> + +<p>"Lost your way!" says his mother, alarmed. "My +dear boy, you should not have left the path at dusk."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother," says the little midshipman, with a smile, +"you're always thinking we're in danger. If you could +see me sometimes sitting at the jib-boom end, or across + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +the main topmast crosstrees, you <i>would</i> be frightened. +But what danger can there be in a wood?"</p> + +<p>"Well, my boy," she answers, "I don't wish to be over-anxious, +and to make my children uncomfortable by my +fears. What did you stray from the path for?"</p> + +<p>"Only to chase a little owl, mother; but I didn't +catch her after all. I got a roll down a bank, and caught +my jacket against a thorn bush, which was rather unlucky. +Ah! three large holes I see in my sleeve. And so I +scrambled up again, and got into the path, and stopped at +the cottage for some milk. What a time the woman kept +me, to be sure! But very soon Mr. Davis drove up in +his gig, and he brought me on to the gate."</p> + +<p>"And so this story being brought to a close," his father +says, "we find that you had no adventures at all!"</p> + +<p>"No, papa, nothing happened; nothing particular, I +mean."</p> + +<p>Nothing particular! If they could have known, they +would have thought lightly in comparison of the dangers +of "the jib-boom end, and the main topmast crosstrees." +But they did not know, any more than we do, of the +dangers that hourly beset us. Some few dangers we are +aware of, and we do what we can to provide against +them; but, for the greater portion, "our eyes are held +that we can not see." We walk securely under His +guidance, without whom "not a sparrow falleth to the +ground!" and when we have had escapes that the angels +have wondered at, we come home and say, perhaps, that +"nothing has happened; at least nothing particular."</p> + +<div class="signature">—<i>Jean Ingelow.</i></div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! they all are in their graves; the gentle race of flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and good of ours.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rain is falling where they lie, but the cold November rain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The windflower and the violet, they perished long ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the brier rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> + <span class="i0">But on the hill the goldenrod, and the aster in the wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the yellow sunflower by the brook in autumn beauty stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till fell the frost from the clear, cold heaven, as falls the plague on men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the brightness of their smile was gone, from upland, glade, and glen.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now, when comes the calm, mild day, as still such days will come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fair, meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the cold, moist earth we laid her, when the forests cast the leaf,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet not unmeet it was that one like that young friend of ours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE GREAT VOLCANIC ERUPTION.</h2> + +<p>In 1883 the most destructive volcanic eruption ever +known occurred in the Straits of Sunda and the neighboring +islands. The trouble began on Sunday morning, +the 13th of May. Java, Sumatra, and Borneo were +convulsed by earthquakes. The surface of the earth +rocked, houses tumbled down, and big trees were shaken +to the ground. Earthquakes are no rarity in those +islands, but this earthquake showed no signs of ceasing. +The earth quivered constantly, and from its depths there +seemed to rise strange sounds and hollow explosions.</p> + +<p>On Thursday there came a telegram from Anjer, ninety +miles away, on the northwest coast of Java, intimating +that a volcano had broken out at Krakatoa island, about +thirty miles west of Anjer, in Sunda Strait. I was +requested by the Dutch government to go to the scene +of action and take scientific observations, and by four +o'clock that afternoon I started with a party on board a +special steamer from Batavia.</p> + +<p>As we rounded the northern extremity of Java, we saw +ascending from Krakatoa, still fifty miles away, an immense +column of smoke. Its appearance changed as we +approached. First it looked like flame, then it appeared +to be steam, and finally it had the appearance of a pillar +of fire inside one of white fleecy wool. The diameter of +this pillar of fire and smoke was, I should think, at least +one and a half miles. All the while we heard that sullen, +thunderous roar which had been a feature of this disturbance +ever since Sunday, and was now becoming louder.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> + We remained on deck all night and watched. The din +increased till we could with difficulty hear one another's +voices. Dawn approached, and when the rays of the sun +fell on the shores of Krakatoa, we saw them reflected from +what we thought was a river, and we resolved to steam +into its mouth and disembark.</p> + +<p>When we came to within three quarters of a mile of the +shore, we discovered that what we supposed to be a river +was a torrent of molten sulphur. The smell almost overpowered +us. We steamed away to the windward, and +made for the other side of the island.</p> + +<p>This island, though volcanic, had up till now been quiet +for at least a century. It was eight or ten miles long and +four wide, and was covered with forests of fine mahogany +and rosewood trees. It was inhabited by a few fishermen, +but we found no signs of these people. The land, down +to the water's edge, was covered with powdered pumice +stone, which rained down from the clouds around the +great column of fire. Everything with life had already +disappeared from the landscape, which was covered with +a steaming mass of stones and ashes.</p> + +<p>Several of us landed and began walking towards the +volcano. We sank deep in the soft pumice, which blistered +our feet with its heat. I climbed painfully upwards +toward the crater, in order to measure it with my sextant; +but in a short time the heat melted the mercury off +the mirror of the instrument. I was then half a mile +from the crater.</p> + +<p>As I was returning to the shore, I saw the bottom of +each footstep I had made on my way up glowing red + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +with the heat from beneath. We photographed the scene +from the deck of the steamer, where the fire hose was kept +playing constantly, wetting the rigging and everything +about the ship to prevent her from taking fire.</p> + +<p>The steamer then returned to Batavia, and I went to +reside at Anjer. From my villa on the hillside a mile +inland, I could see Krakatoa, thirty miles away, belching +out its never-ending eruption. We supposed that it +would go on till it burned itself out, and that then it +would become quiet again. But in this we were mistaken.</p> + +<p>On Sunday morning, the 12th of August, nearly +three months later, I was sitting on the veranda of my +house taking my morning cup of tea. I saw the fishing +boats lying at anchor in the bay, the fishermen themselves +being on shore at rest. As my gaze rested on the boats, +I suddenly became aware that they were all beginning to +move rapidly in one direction. Then in an instant, to +my intense surprise, they all disappeared.</p> + +<p>I ran farther up the hillside to get a better view, and +looked far out to sea. Instantly a great glare of fire +right in the midst of the sea caught my eye. All the +way across the bay and the strait, in a line of flame +reaching to Krakatoa itself, the bottom of the sea seemed +to have cracked open so that the subterraneous fires were +belching forth. On either side the waters were pouring +into this gulf with a tremendous noise, but the fire was +not extinguished.</p> + +<p>The hissing roar brought out the people of Anjer in +excited crowds. My eyes were turned away for a moment + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +as I beckoned to some one, and during that moment +came a terrible, deafening explosion. It stunned me; +and when I was able again to turn my eyes toward the +bay, I could see nothing. The whole scene was shrouded +in darkness, from amid which came cries and groans, the +creaking of breaking beams in the houses, and, above all, +the roar of the breakers on the shore. The city of Anjer, +with its sixty thousand people, had been engulfed!</p> + +<p>I afterwards found that the water was one hundred feet +deep where the city of Anjer had been, and that the coast +line had moved one and a half miles inland. A big island +in the strait had been split in two, with a wide passage +between its parts. An island to the northwest of Krakatoa +had wholly disappeared. The air was filled with +minute particles of dust, which after some weeks spread +even to Europe and America. What the causes of such +a tremendous convulsion may have been, it is quite impossible +accurately to say.</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>The foregoing narrative was written by J. T. Van Gestel, +who was at the time residing in the island of Java. +Compare his description of this event with those of the +eruption of Vesuvius and the destruction of Pompeii, +given in "School Reading by Grades—Fifth Year." +Read also the younger Pliny's description of the eruption +of Vesuvius. It may be found in Church and Brodribb's +translation of selections from Pliny's Letters. Other +interesting readings about volcanoes may be found in +"Volcanoes, Past and Present," by Edward Hull, and in +"Volcanoes and Earthquakes," by Dr. George Hartwig.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter bord" style="width: 500px;"> + <a name="front" id="front"></a> + <a name="p0024-illus.jpg" id="p0024-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0024-illus.jpg" width="500" height="345" alt="Columbus at royal court" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">From the Painting by R. Balaca. Engraved by Robert Varley.<br /> + Columbus at Barcelona.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE RETURN OF COLUMBUS.</h2> + +<p>The fame of the discovery made by Columbus had +resounded throughout the nation, and, as his route lay +through several of the finest and most populous provinces +of Spain, his journey appeared like the progress +of a sovereign. Wherever he passed, the country poured +forth its inhabitants, who lined the road and thronged +the villages. The streets, windows, and balconies of +the towns were filled with eager spectators, who rent +the air with acclamations. His journey was continually +impeded by the multitude pressing to gain a sight +of him and of the Indians, who were regarded with +as much astonishment as if they had been natives of +another planet. It was impossible to satisfy the craving +curiosity which assailed himself and his attendants +at every stage with innumerable questions; popular +rumor, as usual, had exaggerated the truth, and had +filled the newly found country with all kinds of wonders.</p> + +<p>About the middle of April Columbus arrived at Barcelona, +where every preparation had been made to give +him a solemn and magnificent reception. The beauty and +serenity of the weather in that genial season and favored +climate contributed to give splendor to this memorable +ceremony. As he drew near the place, many of the more +youthful courtiers and hidalgos, together with a vast concourse +of the populace, came forth to meet and welcome +him. His entrance into this noble city has been compared +to one of those triumphs which the Romans were accustomed + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +to decree to conquerors. First were paraded the +Indians, painted according to their savage fashion, and +decorated with their national ornaments of gold; after +these were borne various kinds of live parrots, together +with stuffed birds and animals of unknown species, and +rare plants supposed to be of precious qualities; while +great care was taken to make a conspicuous display of +Indian coronets, bracelets, and other decorations of gold, +which might give an idea of the wealth of the newly discovered +regions. After this followed Columbus on horseback, +surrounded by a brilliant cavalcade of Spanish +chivalry. The streets were almost impassable from the +countless multitude; the windows and balconies were +crowded with the fair; the very roofs were covered with +spectators. It seemed as if the public eye could not be +sated with gazing on these trophies of an unknown world, +or on the remarkable man by whom it had been discovered. +There was a sublimity in this event that mingled +a solemn feeling with the public joy. It was looked upon +as a vast and signal dispensation of Providence in reward +for the piety of the monarchs; and the majestic and +venerable appearance of the discoverer, so different from +the youth and buoyancy generally expected from roving +enterprise, seemed in harmony with the grandeur and +dignity of his achievement.</p> + +<p>To receive him with suitable pomp and distinction, +the sovereigns had ordered their throne to be placed in +public, under a rich canopy of brocade of gold, in a vast +and splendid saloon. Here the king and queen awaited +his arrival, seated in state, with the Prince Juan beside + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +them, and attended by the dignitaries of their court, and +the principal nobility of Castile, Valencia, Catalonia, and +Aragon, all impatient to behold the man who had conferred +so incalculable a benefit upon the nation. At +length Columbus entered the hall, surrounded by a brilliant +crowd of cavaliers, among whom, says Las Casas, he +was conspicuous for his stately and commanding person, +which, with his countenance rendered venerable by his +gray hairs, gave him the august appearance of a senator +of Rome. A modest smile lighted up his features, showing +that he enjoyed the state and glory in which he came; +and certainly nothing could be more deeply moving to a +mind inflamed by noble ambition, and conscious of having +greatly deserved, than these testimonials of the admiration +and gratitude of a nation, or rather of a world. As +Columbus approached, the sovereigns rose, as if receiving +a person of the highest rank. Bending his knees, he +offered to kiss their hands; but there was some hesitation +on their part to permit this act of homage. Raising him +in the most gracious manner, they ordered him to seat +himself in their presence; a rare honor in this proud and +punctilious court.</p> + +<p>At their request, he now gave an account of the most +striking events of his voyage, and a description of the +islands discovered. He displayed specimens of unknown +birds and other animals; of rare plants of medicinal and +aromatic virtues; of native gold in dust, in crude masses, +or labored into barbaric ornaments; and, above all, the +natives of these countries, who were objects of intense +and inexhaustible interest. All these he pronounced mere + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +harbingers of greater discoveries yet to be made, which +would add realms of incalculable wealth to the dominions +of their majesties, and whole nations of proselytes to the +true faith.</p> + +<p>When he had finished, the sovereigns sank on their +knees, and, raising their clasped hands to heaven, their +eyes filled with tears of joy and gratitude, poured forth +thanks and praises to God for so great a providence; all +present followed their example; a deep and solemn enthusiasm +pervaded that splendid assembly, and prevented +all common acclamations of triumph. The anthem <i>Te +Deum laudamus</i>, chanted by the choir of the royal chapel, +with the accompaniment of instruments, rose in full body +of sacred harmony, bearing up as it were the feelings and +thoughts of the auditors to heaven, "so that" says the +venerable Las Casas, "it seemed as if in that hour they +communicated with celestial delights." Such was the +solemn and pious manner in which the brilliant court of +Spain celebrated this sublime event; offering up a grateful +tribute of melody and praise, and giving glory to God +for the discovery of another world.</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>This description of the reception of the great discoverer +after his return from his first voyage, is from Washington +Irving's famous book entitled "The Life and Voyages of +Columbus." Other readings on the same subject are to be +found in Prescott's "Ferdinand and Isabella," Kingston's +"Notable Voyagers," Mrs. Bolton's "Famous Voyagers," +Saunders' "Story of the Discovery of the New World," +and McMaster's "School History of the United States."</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> +<h2>WHAT THE SUNBEAMS DO.</h2> + +<p>What work do the sunbeams do for us? They do two +things,—they give us light and heat. It is by means of +them alone that we see anything.</p> + +<p>When the room was dark you could not distinguish the +table, the chairs, or even the walls of the room. Why? +Because they had no light waves to send to your eye. +But as the sunbeams began to pour in at the window, the +waves played upon the things in the room; and when +they hit them they bounded off them back to your eye, +as a wave of the sea bounds back from a rock, and strikes +against a passing boat. Then, when they fell upon your +eye, they entered it, and excited the retina and the +nerves; and the image of the chair or the table was +carried to your brain.</p> + +<p>Some substances send back hardly any waves of light, +but let them all pass through them. A pane of clear +glass, for instance, lets nearly all the light waves pass +through it; and therefore you often can not see the glass, +because no light messengers come back to you from it. +Thus people have sometimes walked up against a glass +door, and broken it, not seeing it was there.</p> + +<p>Those substances are transparent, which, for some reason +unknown to us, allow the ether waves to pass through +them. In clear glass, all the light waves pass through; +while in a white wall the larger part of the rays are +reflected back to the eye. Into polished shining metal +the waves hardly enter at all, but are thrown back from +the surface; and so a steel knife or a silver spoon is + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +very bright, and is clearly seen. Quicksilver is put +at the back of looking-glasses because it reflects so many +waves.</p> + +<p>The reflected light waves not only make us see things, +but they make us see them in different colors. Imagine +a sunbeam playing on a leaf: part of its waves bound +straight back from it to our eye, and make us see the +surface of the leaf; but the rest go right into the leaf +itself, and there some of them are used up and kept +prisoners. The red, orange, yellow, blue, indigo, and +violet waves are all useful to the leaf, and it does not let +them go again. But it can not absorb the green waves, +and so it throws them back; and they travel to your eye, +and make you see a green color. So, when you say a leaf +is green, you mean that the leaf does not want the green +waves of the sunbeam, but sends them back to you. In +the same way the scarlet geranium rejects the red waves; +a white tablecloth sends back nearly the whole of the +waves, and a black coat scarcely any.</p> + +<p>Is it not strange that there is really no such thing as +color in the leaf, the table, the coat, or the geranium; +that we see them of different colors because they send +back only certain-colored waves to our eye?</p> + +<p>So far we have spoken only of light; but hold your +hand in the sun, and feel the heat of the sunbeams, and +then consider if the waves of heat do not do work also. +There are many waves in a sunbeam which move too +slowly to make us see light when they hit our eye; but +we can feel them as heat, though we cannot see them as +light.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> + The simplest way of feeling heat waves is to hold a +warm flatiron near your face. You know that no light +comes from it, yet you can feel the heat waves beating +violently against your face.</p> + +<p>Now, there are many of these dark heat rays in a sunbeam, +and it is they that do most of the work in the +world. It is the heat waves that make the air hot and +light, and so cause it to rise, and make winds and air +currents; and these again give rise to ocean currents. +It is these dark rays, again, that strike upon the land, +and give it the warmth which enables plants to grow. It +is they also that keep up the warmth in our own bodies, +both by coming to us directly from the sun, and also in a +very roundabout way through plants.</p> + +<p>Coal is made of plants, and the heat it gives out is the +heat these plants once took in. Think how much work +is done by burning coal. Not only are our houses warmed +by coal fires and lighted by coal gas, but our steam +engines work entirely by water which has been turned +into steam by the heat of coal fires; and our steamboats +travel all over the world by means of the same power.</p> + +<p>In the same way the oil of our lamps comes either from +olives, which grow on trees, or from coal and the remains +of plants in the earth. Even our tallow candles are made +of mutton fat, and sheep eat grass; and so, turn which +way we will, we find that the light and heat on our earth, +whether it comes from fires, or candles, or lamps, or gas, +is equally the work of those waves of ether coming from +the sun, which make what we call a sunbeam.</p> + +<div class="signature">—<i>From "The Fairy Land of Science," by Arabella B. Buckley.</i></div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> +<h2>HORATIUS AT THE BRIDGE.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0032-illus.jpg" id="p0032-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0032-illus.jpg" width="200" height="194" alt="The author" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Thomas Babington Macaulay.</p> +</div> +<p>Tarquin the Proud was the seventh and last king of +Rome. Such were his acts of tyranny, and such the +crimes of his son, "the false Sextus," that the people +rose in rebellion, and, in the year 509 <span class="smcap">B.C.</span>, drove him +and his family away from Rome and declared +that they would have no more +kings. The Tarquins took refuge +among the Etruscans, whose country +bordered Rome on the north. They +made a treaty of friendship with +Porsena, the king of Clusium, +and induced him to raise a +large army for the purpose of +forcing the Romans to allow +them to return to power. A +battle was fought, and the Romans +being defeated were obliged +to flee across the wooden bridge which spanned the Tiber +at Rome. To prevent Porsena from entering the city, the +Roman Consul ordered that the bridge should be destroyed.</p> + +<p>The story of the manner in which this was done is told +by Lord Macaulay in his "Lays of Ancient Rome," a collection +of heroic ballads relating to the times of the kings +and the early consuls. The author speaks, not in his own +person, but in the person of an ancient minstrel who is +supposed to have lived about one hundred years after the +event, and who therefore knew only what a Roman citizen +of that time could have known.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> + <span class="i0">But the Consul's brow was sad,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the Consul's speech was low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And darkly looked he at the wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And darkly at the foe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Their van will be upon us<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Before the bridge goes down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if they once may win the bridge,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What hope to save the town?"<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out spake brave Horatius,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The captain of the gate:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"To every man upon this Earth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Death cometh soon or late;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And how can man die better<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Than facing fearful odds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the ashes of his fathers,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the temples of his gods?<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With all the speed ye may;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I, with two more to help me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Will hold the foe in play.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In yon strait path a thousand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">May well be stopped by three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, who will stand on either hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And keep the bridge with me?"<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then out spake Spurius Lartius,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A Ramnian proud was he:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Lo, I will stand at thy right hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And keep the bridge with thee."<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> + <span class="i0">And out spake strong Herminius,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Titian blood was he:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I will abide on thy left side,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And keep the bridge with thee."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Horatius," quoth the Consul,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"As thou say'st, so let it be."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And straight against that great array<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Forth went the dauntless Three.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Meanwhile the Tuscan army,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Right glorious to behold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came flashing back the noonday light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rank behind rank, like surges bright<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Of a broad sea of gold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Four hundred trumpets sounded<br /></span> +<span class="i3">A peal of warlike glee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As that great host, with measured tread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And spears advanced, and ensigns spread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rolled slowly towards the bridge's head,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Where stood the dauntless Three.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">The Three stood calm and silent,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And looked upon the foes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And a great shout of laughter<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From all the vanguard rose.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And forth three chiefs came spurring<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before that deep array;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To earth they sprang, their swords they drew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lifted high their shields, and flew<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To win the narrow way.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Annus from green Tifernum,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lord of the Hill of Vines;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Seius, whose eight hundred slaves<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sicken in Ilva's mines;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Picus, long to Clusium<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Vassal in peace and war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who led to fight his Umbrian powers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From that gray crag where, girt with towers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fortress of Nequinum lowers<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er the pale waves of Nar.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stout Lartius hurled down Annus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Into the stream beneath:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Herminius struck at Seius,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And clove him to the teeth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Picus brave Horatius<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Darted one fiery thrust;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the proud Umbrian's gilded arms<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clashed in the bloody dust.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now no sound of laughter<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was heard among the foes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wild and wrathful clamor<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From all the vanguard rose.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Six spears' length from the entrance<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Halted that mighty mass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for a space no man came forth<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To win the narrow pass.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> + <span class="i0">But hark! the cry is Astur:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And lo! the ranks divide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the great Lord of Luna<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Comes with his stately stride.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon his ample shoulders<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Clangs loud the fourfold shield,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in his hand he shakes the brand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which none but he can wield.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He smiled on those bold Romans<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A smile serene and high;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He eyed the flinching Tuscans,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And scorn was in his eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quoth he, "The she-wolf's litter<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stand savagely at bay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But will ye dare to follow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If Astur clears the way?"<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then whirling up his broadsword<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With both hands to the height,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He rushed against Horatius,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And smote with all his might.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With shield and blade Horatius<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Right deftly turned the blow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blow, though turned, came yet too nigh;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It missed his helm, but gashed his thigh:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Tuscans raised a joyful cry<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To see the red blood flow.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter bord" style="width: 500px;"> + <a name="p0037-illus.jpg" id="p0037-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0037-illus.jpg" width="500" height="320" alt="A defensive act" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Drawn by A. I. Keller. Engraved by Robert Varley.<br /> + The Defense of the Bridge.</p> +</div> + +<p> </p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> + <span class="i0">He reeled, and on Herminius<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He leaned one breathing space;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, like a wild cat mad with wounds,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sprang right at Astur's face.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through teeth and skull and helmet,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So fierce a thrust he sped,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The good sword stood a handbreadth out<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Behind the Tuscan's head!<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the great Lord of Luna<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fell at that deadly stroke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As falls on Mount Alvernus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A thunder-smitten oak.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far o'er the crashing forest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The giant arms lie spread;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the pale augurs, muttering low,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Gaze on the blasted head.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then all Etruria's noblest<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Felt their hearts sink to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the earth the bloody corpses,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the path the dauntless Three:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, from the ghastly entrance<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where those bold Romans stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All shrank, like boys who unaware,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ranging the woods to start a hare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come to the mouth of the dark lair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, growling low, a fierce old bear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lies amidst bones and blood.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Yet one man for one moment<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stood out before the crowd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well known was he to all the Three,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And they gave him greeting loud:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Now welcome, welcome, Sextus!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now welcome to thy home!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why dost thou stay and turn away?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Here lies the road to Rome."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thrice looked he at the city;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thrice looked he at the dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thrice came on in fury,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And thrice turned back in dread:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, white with fear and hatred,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Scowled at the narrow way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, wallowing in a pool of blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The bravest Tuscans lay.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But meanwhile ax and lever<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Have manfully been plied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now the bridge hangs tottering<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Above the boiling tide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Come back, come back, Horatius!"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Loud cried the Fathers all.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Back, Lartius! Back, Herminius!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Back, ere the ruin fall!"<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Back darted Spurius Lartius;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Herminius darted back;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as they passed, beneath their feet<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They felt the timbers crack.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> + <span class="i0">But when they turned their faces,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And on the farther shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw brave Horatius stand alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They would have crossed once more.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But with a crash like thunder<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fell every loosened beam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, like a dam, the mighty wreck<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lay right athwart the stream:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a long shout of triumph<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rose from the walls of Rome,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As to the highest turret tops<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was splashed the yellow-foam.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alone stood brave Horatius,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But constant still in mind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrice thirty thousand foes before,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the broad flood behind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Down with him!" cried false Sextus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With a smile on his pale face.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Now, yield thee!" cried Lars Porsena,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Now yield thee to our grace."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Round turned he, as not deigning<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Those craven ranks to see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Naught spake he to Lars Porsena,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To Sextus naught spake he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he saw on Palatinus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The white porch of his home;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he spake to the noble river<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That rolls by the tower of Rome:<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> + <span class="i0">"O, Tiber! Father Tiber!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To whom the Romans pray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Roman's life, a Roman's arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Take thou in charge this day!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So he spake, and speaking sheathed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The good sword by his side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with his harness on his back,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Plunged headlong in the tide.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No sound of joy or sorrow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was heard from either bank;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But friends and foes, in dumb surprise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With parted lips and straining eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stood gazing where he sank:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when above the surges<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They saw his crest appear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And even the ranks of Tuscany<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Could scarce forbear to cheer.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But fiercely ran the current,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Swollen high by months of rain:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fast his blood was flowing;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And he was sore in pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And heavy with his armor,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And spent with changing blows:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And oft they thought him sinking,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But still again he rose.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> + <span class="i0">"Curse on him!" quoth false Sextus,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Will not the villain drown?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But for this stay, ere close of day<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We should have sacked the town!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Heaven help him!" quoth Lars Porsena,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"And bring him safe to shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For such a gallant feat of arms<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was never seen before."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now he feels the bottom;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Now on dry earth he stands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now round him throng the Fathers,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To press his gory hands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now with shouts and clapping,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And noise of weeping loud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He enters through the River Gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Borne by the joyous crowd.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They gave him of the corn land,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That was of public right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As much as two strong oxen<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Could plow from morn till night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they made a molten image,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And set it up on high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there it stands unto this day<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To witness if I lie.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And still his name sounds stirring<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unto the men of Rome,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the trumpet-blast that cries to them<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To charge the Volscians home.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> + <span class="i0">And mothers pray to Juno<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For boys with hearts as bold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As his who kept the bridge so well<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the brave days of old.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And in the nights of winter<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When the cold north winds blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the long howling of the wolves<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is heard amidst the snow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When round the lonely cottage<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Roars loud the tempest's din,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the good logs of Algidus<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Roar louder yet within;<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the oldest cask is opened,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the largest lamp is lit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the chestnuts glow in the embers,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the kid turns on the spit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When young and old in circle<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Around the firebrands close;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the girls are weaving baskets,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the lads are shaping bows;<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the goodman mends his armor,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And trims his helmet's plume;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the goodwife's shuttle merrily<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Goes flashing through the loom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With weeping and with laughter<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Still is the story told,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How well Horatius kept the bridge<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the brave days of old.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> +<h2>HOW SIR FRANCIS DRAKE SAILED ROUND<br /> +THE WORLD.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0044-illus.jpg" id="p0044-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0044-illus.jpg" width="200" height="212" alt="Drake's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Sir Francis Drake.</p> +</div> +<p>The ships which the Spaniards used on the Pacific +were usually built on the spot. But Magellan was +known to have gone by the Horn, and where a Portuguese +could go an Englishman could go. +Drake proposed to try. The vessels in +which he was preparing to tempt fortune +seem preposterously small. The +"Pelican," or "Golden Hind," +which belonged to Drake himself, +was but 120 tons, at best +no larger than a modern racing +yawl, though perhaps no +racing yawl was ever better +equipped for the work which +she had to do. The next, +the "Elizabeth" of London, +was said to be eighty tons; a small pinnace of twelve +tons, in which we should hardly risk a summer cruise +round the Land's End, with two sloops or frigates of fifty +and thirty tons, made the rest. The "Elizabeth" was +commanded by Captain Winter, a queen's officer, and +perhaps a son of the old admiral.</p> + +<p>We may credit Drake with knowing what he was +about. He and his comrades were carrying their lives +in their hands. If they were taken they would be inevitably +hanged. Their safety depended on speed of +sailing, and specially on the power of working fast to + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +windward, which the heavy square-rigged ships could +not do. The crews all told were one hundred and sixty +men and boys.</p> + +<p>On November 15th, 1577, the "Pelican" and her consorts +sailed out of Plymouth Sound. The elements frowned +on their start. On the second day they were caught in +a winter gale. The "Pelican" sprung her mainmast, +and they put back to refit and repair. Before the middle +of December all was again in order. The weather +mended, and with a fair wind and smooth water they +made a fast run down the coast to the Cape de Verde +Islands. There taking up the northeast Trades, they +struck across the Atlantic. They passed the mouth of +the Plate River, finding to their astonishment fresh water +at the ship's side in fifty-four fathoms. On June 20th +they reached Port St. Julian on the coast of Patagonia.</p> + +<p>It was now midwinter, the stormiest season of the +year, and they remained for six weeks in Port St. Julian. +They burnt the twelve-ton pinnace, as too small for the +work they had now before them, and there remained only +the "Pelican," the "Elizabeth," and the "Marigold." In +cold, wild weather they weighed at last, and on August +20th made the opening of Magellan's Straits. The passage +is seventy miles long, tortuous and dangerous. +They had no charts. Icy mountains overhung them on +either side; heavy snow fell below. They brought up +occasionally at an island to rest the men, and let them +kill a few seals and penguins to give them fresh food. +Everything they saw was new, wild, and wonderful.</p> + +<p>Having to feel their way, they were three weeks in + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +getting through. They had counted on reaching the +Pacific that the worst of their work was over, and that +they could run north at once into warmer and calmer +latitudes. The peaceful ocean, when they entered it, +proved the stormiest they had ever sailed on. A fierce +westerly gale drove them six hundred miles to the southeast +outside the Horn. The "Marigold" went down in the +tremendous encounter. Captain Winter in the "Elizabeth" +made his way back into Magellan's Straits. There +he lay for three weeks, lighting fires nightly to show +Drake where he was; but no Drake appeared. They had +agreed, if separated, to meet on the coast in the latitude +of Valparaiso; but Winter was chicken-hearted, and sore, +we are told, "against the mariners' will," when the three +weeks were out, he sailed away for England, where he +reported that all the ships were lost but the "Pelican," +and that the "Pelican" was probably lost too.</p> + +<p>Drake had believed better of Winter, and had not +expected to be so deserted. He had himself taken refuge +among the islands which form the Cape, waiting for the +spring and milder weather. He used the time in making +surveys, and observing the habits of the native Patagonians. +The days lengthened, and the sea smoothed at last. +He then sailed for Valparaiso, hoping to meet Winter +there, as he had arranged. At Valparaiso there was no +Winter, but there was in the port instead a great galleon +just come in from Peru. The galleon's crew took him +for a Spaniard, hoisted their colors, and beat their drums. +The "Pelican" shot alongside. The English sailors +in high spirits leaped on board. No life was taken; + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +Drake never hurt man if he could help it. The crew +jumped overboard, and swam ashore. The prize was +examined. Four hundred pounds' weight of gold was +found in her, besides other plunder.</p> + +<p>Drake went on next to Tarapaca, where silver from the +Andes mines was shipped for Panama. At Tarapaca +there was the same unconsciousness of danger. The +silver bars lay piled on the quay, the muleteers who had +brought them were sleeping peacefully in the sunshine at +their side. The muleteers were left to their slumbers. +The bars were lifted into the English boats. A train of +mules or llamas came in at that moment with a second +load as rich as the first. This, too, went into the "Pelican's" +hold. The bullion taken at Tarapaca was worth +nearly half a million ducats.</p> + +<p>Still there was no news of Winter. Drake began to +realize that he was now entirely alone, and had only himself +and his own crew to depend on. There was nothing +to do but to go through with it, danger adding to the +interest. Arica was the next point visited. Half a +hundred blocks of silver were picked up at Arica. After +Arica came Lima, the chief depot of all, where the grandest +haul was looked for. At Lima, alas! they were just +too late. Twelve great hulks lay anchored there. The +sails were unbent, the men were ashore. They contained +nothing but some chests of reels and a few bales of silk +and linen. But a thirteenth, called the "Cacafuego," had +sailed a few days before for the Isthmus with the whole +produce of the Lima mines for the season. Her ballast +was silver, her cargo gold and emeralds and rubies.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> + Drake deliberately cut the cables of the ships in the +roads, that they might drive ashore and be unable to +follow him. The "Pelican" spread her wings, and sped +away in pursuit. He would know the "Cacafuego," so +he learned at Lima, by the peculiar cut of her sails. The +first man who caught sight of her was promised a gold +chain for his reward. A sail was seen on the second +day. It was not the chase, but it was worth stopping +for. Eighty pounds' weight of gold was found, and a +great gold crucifix, set with emeralds said to be as large +as pigeons' eggs.</p> + +<p>We learn from the Spanish accounts that the Viceroy +of Lima, as soon as he recovered from his astonishment, +dispatched ships in pursuit. They came up with the +last plundered vessel, heard terrible tales of the rovers' +strength, and went back for a larger force. The "Pelican" +meanwhile went along upon her course for eight hundred +miles. At length, off Quito, and close under the shore, +the "Cacafuego's" peculiar sails were sighted, and the gold +chain was claimed. There she was, going lazily along a +few miles ahead. Care was needed in approaching her. +If she guessed the "Pelican's" character she would run +in upon the land, and they would lose her. It was +afternoon. The sun was still above the horizon, and +Drake meant to wait till night, when the breeze would be +off the shore, as in the tropics it always is.</p> + +<p>The "Pelican" sailed two feet to the "Cacafuego's" one. +Drake filled his empty wine skins with water and trailed +them astern to stop his way. The chase supposed that +she was followed by some heavily-loaded trader, and, + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +wishing for company on a lonely voyage, she slackened +sail, and waited for him to come up. At length the sun +went down into the ocean, the rosy light faded from off +the snows of the Andes; and when both ships had become +invisible from the shore, the skins were hauled in, +the night wind rose, and the water began to ripple under +the "Pelican's" bows. The "Cacafuego" was swiftly overtaken, +and when within a cable's length a voice hailed her +to put her head into the wind. The Spanish commander, +not understanding so strange an order, held on his course. +A broadside brought down his mainyard, and a flight of +arrows rattled on his deck. He was himself wounded. +In a few minutes he was a prisoner, and the ship and her +precious freight were in the corsair's power. The wreck +was cut away; the ship was cleared; a prize crew was +put on board. Both vessels turned their heads to the +sea. At daybreak no land was to be seen, and the examination +of the prize began. The full value was never +acknowledged. The invoice, if there was one, was destroyed. +The accurate figures were known only to Drake +and Queen Elizabeth. A published schedule acknowledged +to twenty tons of silver bullion, thirteen chests of +silver coins, and a hundredweight of gold, but there were +gold nuggets beside in indefinite quantity, and "a great +store" of pearls, emeralds, and diamonds.</p> + +<p>Drake, we are told, was greatly satisfied. He thought +it prudent to stay in the neighborhood no longer than +necessary. He went north with all sail set, taking his +prize along with him. The master, San Juan de Anton, was +removed on board the "Pelican," to have his wound attended + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +to. He remained as Drake's guest for a week, +and sent in a report of what he observed to the Spanish +government. One at least of Drake's party spoke excellent +Spanish. This person took San Juan over the ship. +She showed signs, San Juan said, of rough service, but +was still in fine condition, with ample arms, spare rope, +mattocks, carpenters' tools of all descriptions. There +were eighty-five men on board all told, fifty of them men +of war, the rest young fellows, ship boys, and the like. +Drake himself was treated with great reverence; a sentinel +stood always at his cabin door. He dined alone with +music.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0050-illus.jpg" id="p0050-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0050-illus.jpg" width="200" height="217" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">James Anthony Froude.</p> +</div> +<p>The "Pelican" met with many other adventures, and at +last sailed for home. Sweeping in fine +clear weather round the Cape of Good +Hope, she touched once for water +at Sierra Leone, and finally sailed +in triumph into Plymouth +Harbor.</p> + +<p>English sympathy with an +extraordinary exploit is always +irresistible. Shouts of +applause rang through the +country; and Elizabeth, every +bit of her an English-woman, +felt with her subjects. She +sent for Drake to London, made him tell his story over +and over again, and was never weary of listening to him.</p> + +<div class="signature">—<i>From "English Seamen in the Sixteenth Century,"<br /> +by James Anthony Froude.</i> </div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> +<h2>A BRAVE RESCUE AND A ROUGH RIDE.</h2> + +<p>It happened upon a November evening (when I was +about fifteen years old, and outgrowing my strength very +rapidly, my sister Annie being turned thirteen, and a deal +of rain having fallen, and all the troughs in the yard +being flooded, and the bark from the wood ricks washed +down the gutter, and even our watershoot growing +brown) that the ducks in the barnyard made a terrible +quacking, instead of marching off to their pen, one behind +another. Thereupon Annie and I ran out to see what +might be the sense of it. There were thirteen ducks, and +ten lily-white (as the fashion of ducks then was), not, I +mean, twenty-three in all, but ten white and three brown-striped +ones; and without being nice about their color, +they all quacked very movingly. They pushed their +gold-colored bills here and there (yet dirty, as gold is apt +to be), and they jumped on the triangles of their feet, +and sounded out of their nostrils; and some of the overexcited +ones ran along low on the ground, quacking +grievously, with their bills snapping and bending, and the +roof of their mouths exhibited.</p> + +<p>Annie began to cry "dilly, dilly, einy, einy, ducksey," +according to the burden of a tune they seem to have accepted +as the national ducks' anthem; but instead of being +soothed by it, they only quacked three times as hard, and +ran round till we were giddy. And then they shook their +tails all together, and looked grave, and went round and +round again.</p> + +<p>Now, I am uncommonly fond of ducks, whether roystering, + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +roosting, or roasted; and it is a fine sight to behold +them walk, paddling one after another, with their toes +out, like soldiers drilling, and their little eyes cocked all +ways at once, and the way that they dib with their bills, +and dabble, and throw up their heads and enjoy something, +and then tell the others about it. Therefore, I +knew at once, by the way they were carrying on, that +there must be something or other gone wholly amiss in +the duck world. Sister Annie perceived it, too, but with +a greater quickness; for she counted them like a good +duck wife, and could only tell thirteen of them, when she +knew there ought to be fourteen.</p> + +<p>And so we began to search about, and the ducks ran to +lead us aright, having come that far to fetch us; and +when we got down to the foot of the courtyard where +the two great ash trees stand by the side of the little +water, we found good reason for the urgence and melancholy +of the duck birds. Lo! the old white drake, the +father of all, a bird of high manners and chivalry, always +the last to help himself from the pan of barley meal, and +the first to show fight to a dog or cock intruding upon his +family, this fine fellow, and a pillar of the state, was now +in a sad predicament, yet quacking very stoutly.</p> + +<p>For the brook, wherewith he had been familiar from his +callow childhood, and wherein he was wont to quest for +water newts, and tadpoles, and caddice worms, and other +game, this brook, which afforded him very often scanty +space to dabble in, and sometimes starved the cresses, was +now coming down in a great brown flood, as if the banks +never belonged to it. The foaming of it, and the noise, + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +and the cresting of the corners, and the up and down, like +the wave of the sea, were enough to frighten any duck, +though bred upon stormy waters, which our ducks never +had been.</p> + +<p>There is always a hurdle six feet long and four and a +half in depth, swung by a chain at either end from an oak +laid across the channel. And the use of this hurdle is to +keep our kine at milking time from straying away there +drinking (for in truth they are very dainty) and to fence +strange cattle, or Farmer Snowe's horses, from coming +along the bed of the brook unknown, to steal our substance.</p> + +<p>But now this hurdle, which hung in the summer a foot +above the trickle, would have been dipped more than two +feet deep but for the power against it. For the torrent +came down so vehemently that the chains in full stretch +were creaking, and the hurdle buffeted almost flat, and +thatched (so to say), with the drift stuff, was going seesaw +with a sulky splash on the dirty red comb of the +waters.</p> + +<p>But saddest to see was between two bars, where a fog was +of rushes, and flood wood, and wild celery, and dead crow's-foot. +For there was our venerable mallard jammed in by +the joint of his shoulder, speaking aloud as he rose and +fell, with his topknot full of water, unable to comprehend +it, with his tail washed far away from him, but often compelled +to be silent, being ducked very harshly against his +will by the choking fall to of the hurdle.</p> + +<p>For a moment I could not help laughing; because, being +borne high up and dry by a tumult of the torrent, he gave + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +me a look from his one little eye (having lost one in fight +with a turkey cock), a gaze of appealing sorrow, and then +a loud quack to second it. But the quack came out of +time, I suppose, for his throat got filled with water, as +the hurdle carried him back again. And then there was +scarcely the screw of his tail to be seen until he swung +up again, and left small doubt, by the way he spluttered, +and failed to quack, and hung down his poor crest, but +what he must drown in another minute, and frogs triumph +over his body.</p> + +<p>Annie was crying and wringing her hands, and I was +about to rush into the water, although I liked not the look +of it, but hoped to hold on by the hurdle, when a man on +horseback came suddenly round the corner of the great +ash hedge on the other side of the stream, and his horse's +feet were in the water.</p> + +<p>"Ho, there," he cried, "get thee back, boy! The flood +will carry thee down like a straw. I will do it for thee, +and no trouble."</p> + +<p>With that he leaned forward, and spoke to his mare—she +was just of the tint of a strawberry, a young thing, +very beautiful—and she arched up her neck, as misliking +the job; yet, trusting him, would attempt it. She +entered the flood, with her dainty fore legs sloped further +and further in front of her, and her delicate ears pricked +forward, and the size of her great eyes increasing; but he +kept her straight in the turbid rush, by the pressure of his +knee on her.</p> + +<p>Then she looked back, and wondered at him, as the force +of the torrent grew stronger, but he bade her go on; and + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +on she went, and it foamed up over her shoulders; and +she tossed up her lip and scorned it, for now her courage +was waking.</p> + +<p>Then, as the rush of it swept her away, and she struck +with her forefeet down the stream, he leaned from his +saddle in a manner which I never could have thought +possible, and caught up old Tom with his left hand, and +set him between his hostlers, and smiled at his faint quack +of gratitude. In a moment all three were carried down +stream, and the rider lay flat on his horse, and tossed the +hurdle clear from him, and made for the bend of smooth +water.</p> + +<p>They landed some thirty or forty yards lower, in the +midst of our kitchen garden, where the winter cabbage +was; but though Annie and I crept in through the hedge, +and were full of our thanks and admiring him, he would +answer us never a word until he had spoken in full to the +mare, as if explaining the whole to her.</p> + +<p>"Sweetheart, I know thou couldst have leaped it," he +said, as he patted her cheek, being on the ground by this +time, and she was nudging up to him, with the water +pattering off from her; "but I had good reason, Winnie +dear, for making thee go through it."</p> + +<p>She answered him kindly with her soft eyes, and sniffed +at him very lovingly, and they understood one another. +Then he took from his waistcoat two peppercorns, and +made the old drake swallow them, and tried him softly on +his legs, where the leading gap in the hedge was.</p> + +<p>Old Tom stood up quite bravely, and clapped his wings, +and shook off the wet from his tail feathers; and then away + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +into the courtyard, and his family gathered around him, +and they all made a noise in their throats, and stood up, +and put their bills together, to thank God for his great +deliverance.</p> + +<p>Having taken all this trouble, and watched the end of +that adventure, the gentleman turned round to us with a +pleasant smile on his face, as if he were lightly amused +with himself; and we came up and looked at him. He was +rather short, about John Fry's height, or maybe a little +taller, but very strongly built and springy, as his gait at +every step showed plainly, although his legs were bowed +with much riding, and he looked as if he lived on horseback.</p> + +<p>To a boy like me he seemed very old, being over +twenty, and well found in beard; but he was not more +than four and twenty, fresh and ruddy looking, with a +short nose and keen blue eyes, and a merry, waggish jerk +about him, as if the world were not in earnest. Yet he +had a sharp, stern way, like the crack of a pistol, if anything +misliked him; and we knew (for children see such +things) that it was safer to tickle than buffet him.</p> + +<p>"Well, young ones, what be gaping at?" He gave +pretty Annie a chuck on the chin, and took me all in +without winking.</p> + +<p>"Your mare," said I, standing stoutly up, being a tall +boy now; "I never saw such a beauty, sir. Will you let +me have a ride on her?"</p> + +<p>"Think thou couldst ride her, lad? She will have no +burden but mine. Thou couldst never ride her! Tut! +I would be loath to kill thee."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> + "Ride her!" I cried, with the bravest scorn, for she +looked so kind and gentle; "there never was horse upon +Exmoor but I could tackle in half an hour. Only I +never ride upon saddle. Take those leathers off of her."</p> + +<p>He looked at me with a dry little whistle, and thrust +his hands into his pockets, and so grinned that I could not +stand it. And Annie laid hold of me in such a way that +I was almost mad with her. And he laughed, and approved +her for doing so. And the worst of all was—he said +nothing.</p> + +<p>"Get away, Annie. Do you think I'm a fool, good sir? +Only trust me with her, and I will not override her."</p> + +<p>"For that I will go bail, my son. She is liker to override +thee. But the ground is soft to fall upon, after all +this rain. Now come out into the yard, young man, for +the sake of your mother's cabbages. And the mellow +straw bed will be softer for thee, since pride must have +its fall. I am thy mother's cousin, boy, and I'm going +up to the house. Tom Faggus is my name, as everybody +knows, and this is my young mare, Winnie."</p> + +<p>What a fool I must have been not to know it at once! +Tom Faggus, the great highwayman, and his young +blood mare, the strawberry. Already her fame was +noised abroad, nearly as much as her master's, and my +longing to ride her grew tenfold, but fear came at the +back of it. Not that I had the smallest fear of what the +mare could do to me, by fair play and horse trickery, but +that the glory of sitting upon her seemed to be too great +for me; especially as there were rumors abroad that she +was not a mare, after all, but a witch.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> + However, she looked like a filly all over, and wonderfully +beautiful with her supple stride, and soft slope of +shoulder, and glossy coat beaded with water, and prominent +eyes full of docile fire. Whether this came from +her Eastern blood of the Arabs newly imported, and +whether the cream color, mixed with our bay, led to +that bright strawberry tint, is certainly more than I +can decide, being chiefly acquaint with farm horses. +And these are of any color and form; you never can +count what they will be, and are lucky to get four legs +to them.</p> + +<p>Mr. Faggus gave his mare a wink, and she walked +demurely after him, a bright young thing, flowing over +with life, yet dropping her soul to a higher one, and led +by love to anything, as the manner is of such creatures, +when they know what is the best for them. Then Winnie +trod lightly upon the straw, because it had soft muck +under it, and her delicate feet came back again.</p> + +<p>"Up for it still, boy, be ye?" Tom Faggus stopped, +and the mare stopped there; and they looked at me +provokingly.</p> + +<p>"Is she able to leap, sir? There is good take-off on +this side of the brook."</p> + +<p>Mr. Faggus laughed very quietly, turning round to +Winnie so that she might enter into it. And she, for her +part, seemed to know exactly where the fun lay.</p> + +<p>"Good tumble off, you mean, my boy. Well, there +can be small harm to thee. I am akin to thy family, and +know the substance of their skulls."</p> + +<p>"Let me get up," said I, waxing wroth, for reasons I + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +can not tell you, because they are too manifold; "take off +your saddlebag things. I will try not to squeeze her +ribs in, unless she plays nonsense with me."</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Faggus was up on his mettle at this proud +speech of mine, and John Fry was running up all the +while, and Bill Dadds, and half a dozen others. Tom +Faggus gave one glance around, and then dropped all +regard for me. The high repute of his mare was at stake, +and what was my life compared to it? Through my +defiance, and stupid ways, here was I in a duello, and +my legs not come to their strength yet, and my arms +as limp as herring.</p> + +<p>Something of this occurred to him, even in his wrath +with me, for he spoke very softly to the filly, who now +could scarce subdue herself; but she drew in her nostrils, +and breathed to his breath, and did all she could +to answer him.</p> + +<p>"Not too hard, my dear," he said; "let him gently +down on the mixen. That will be quite enough." Then +he turned the saddle off, and I was up in a moment. +She began at first so easily, and pricked her ears so lovingly, +and minced about as if pleased to find so light a +weight upon her, that I thought she knew I could ride +a little, and feared to show any capers. "Gee wugg, +Polly!" cried I, for all the men were now looking on, +being then at the leaving-off time; "gee wugg, Polly, +and show what thou be'est made of." With that I +plugged my heels into her, and Billy Dadds flung his +hat up.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, she outraged not, though her eyes were + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +frightening Annie, and John Fry took a pick to keep +him safe; but she curbed to and fro with her strong forearms +rising like springs ingathered, waiting and quivering +grievously, and beginning to sweat about it. Then +her master gave a shrill, clear whistle, when her ears +were bent toward him, and I felt her form beneath me +gathering up like whalebone, and her hind legs coming +under her, and I knew that I was in for it.</p> + +<p>First she reared upright in the air, and struck me full +on the nose with her comb, till I bled worse than Robin +Snell made me; and then down with her fore feet deep +in the straw, and with her hind feet going to heaven. +Finding me stick to her still like wax, for my mettle was +up as hers was, away she flew with me swifter than ever +I went before, or since, I trow.</p> + +<p>She drove full head at the cob wall—"Oh, Jack, slip +off!" screamed Annie—then she turned like light, when +I thought to crush her, and ground my left knee against +it. "Dear me!" I cried, for my breeches were broken, +and short words went the farthest—"if you kill me, you +shall die with me." Then she took the courtyard gate +at a leap, knocking my words between my teeth, and +then right over a quickset hedge, as if the sky were a +breath to her; and away for the water meadows, while I +lay on her neck like a child and wished I had never been +born.</p> + +<p>Straight away, all in the front of the wind, and scattering +clouds around her, all I know of the speed we made +was the frightful flash of her shoulders, and her mane +like trees in a tempest. I felt the earth under us rushing + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +away, and the air left far behind us, and my breath +came and went, and I prayed to God, and was sorry to +be so late of it.</p> + +<p>All the long swift while, without power of thought, I +clung to her crest and shoulders, and was proud of holding +on so long, though sure of being beaten. Then in +her fury at feeling me still, she rushed at another device +for it, and leaped the wide water-trough sideways across, +to and fro, till no breath was left in me. The hazel +boughs took me too hard in the face, and the tall dog-briers +got hold of me, and the ache of my back was like +crimping a fish, till I longed to give it up, thoroughly +beaten, and lie there and die in the cresses.</p> + +<p>But there came a shrill whistle from up the home hill, +where the people had hurried to watch us, and the mare +stopped as if with a bullet, then set off for home with +the speed of a swallow, and going as smoothly and silently. +I never had dreamed of such delicate motion, +fluent, and graceful, and ambient, soft as the breeze flitting +over the flowers, but swift as the summer lightning.</p> + +<p>I sat up again, but my strength was all spent, and no +time left to recover it; and though she rose at our gate +like a bird, I tumbled off into the soft mud.</p> + +<p>"Well done, lad," Mr. Faggus said, good-naturedly; +for all were now gathered round me, as I rose from the +ground, somewhat tottering, and miry, and crest-fallen, +but otherwise none the worse (having fallen upon my +head, which is of uncommon substance); "not at all bad +work, my boy; we may teach you to ride by and by, I +see; I thought not to see you stick on so long—"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> + "I should have stuck on much longer, sir, if her sides +had not been wet. She was so slippery—"</p> + +<p>"Boy, thou art right. She hath given many the slip. +Ha! ha! Vex not, Jack, that I laugh at thee. She is +like a sweetheart to me, and better than any of them be. +It would have gone to my heart if thou hadst conquered. +None but I can ride my Winnie mare."</p> + +<p>"Foul shame to thee, then, Tom Faggus," cried mother, +coming up suddenly, and speaking so that all were amazed, +having never seen her wrathful, "to put my boy, my boy, +across her, as if his life were no more than thine! A +man would have taken thy mad horse and thee, and flung +them both into a horse pond—ay, and what's more, I'll +have it done now, if a hair of his head is injured. Oh, +my boy, my boy! Put up the other arm, Johnny." All +the time mother was scolding so, she was feeling me and +wiping me; while Faggus tried to look greatly ashamed, +having sense of the ways of women.</p> + +<p>"Only look at his jacket, mother!" cried Annie; "and +a shilling's worth gone from his smallclothes!"</p> + +<p>"What care I for his clothes, thou goose? Take that, +and heed thine own a bit." And mother gave Annie a +slap which sent her swinging up against Mr. Faggus, and +he caught her, and kissed and protected her; and she +looked at him very nicely, with great tears in her soft +blue eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, fie upon thee, fie upon thee," cried mother (being +yet more vexed with him, because she had beaten Annie); +"after all we have done for thee, and saved thy worthless +neck—and to try to kill my son for me! Never more + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +shall horse of thine enter stable here, since these be thy +returns to me. Small thanks to you, John Fry, I say; +much you care for your master's son!"</p> + +<p>"Well, missus, what could us do?" began John; "Jan +wudd goo, now wudd't her, Jem? And how was us—"</p> + +<p>"Jan, indeed! Master John, if you please, to a lad of +his years and stature. And now, Tom Faggus, be off, if +you please, and think yourself lucky to go so."</p> + +<p>Everybody looked at mother, to hear her talk like that, +knowing how quiet she was day by day, and how pleasant +to be cheated. And the men began to shoulder their +shovels, both so as to be away from her, and to go and +tell their wives of it. Winnie, too, was looking at her, +being pointed at so much, and wondering if she had done +amiss. And then she came to me, and trembled, and +stooped her head, and asked my pardon, if she had been +too proud with me.</p> + +<p>"Winnie shall stop here to-night," said I, for Tom +Faggus still said never a word all the while, but began +to buckle his things on. "Mother, I tell you Winnie +shall stop; else I will go away with her. I never knew +what it was, till now, to ride a horse worth riding."</p> + +<p>"Young man," said Tom Faggus, still preparing sternly +to depart, "you know more about a horse than any man +on Exmoor. Your mother may well be proud of you, but +she need have had no fear. As if I, Tom Faggus, your +father's cousin—and the only thing I am proud of—would +ever have let you mount my mare, which dukes +and princes have vainly sought, except for the courage +in your eyes, and the look of your father about you. I + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +knew you could ride when I saw you, and rarely you +have conquered. But women don't understand us."</p> + +<p>With that he fetched a heavy sigh, and feebly got upon +Winnie's back, and she came to say farewell to me. He +lifted his hat to my mother with a glance of sorrow, but +never a word, and to me he said: "Open the gate, Cousin +John, if you please. You have beaten her so, that she +cannot leap it, poor thing."</p> + +<p>But, before he was truly gone out of our yard, my +mother came softly after him, with her afternoon apron +across her eyes, and one hand ready to offer him. Nevertheless, +he made as if he had not seen her, though he +let his horse go slowly. "Stop, Cousin Tom," my mother +said, "a word with you before you go."</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>"Lorna Doone," by Richard Blackmore, from which this +extract is taken, is justly regarded as one of the few really +great romances written in the latter part of the nineteenth +century. It is a story of the times of Charles II., and +culminates about the time of the rebellion of Monmouth +in 1685. The narrative is supposed to be related by a +sturdy farmer of Exmoor, named John Ridd, who is the +hero of the tale. The main part of the action centers +round the deeds of a band of outlaws called the Doones, +who had established themselves in a narrow valley of +Exmoor, from whence they levied tribute upon their +neighbors and bade defiance to the officers of the law. +The quaint and homely style in which the story is written +wins the admiration of all readers, and gives to the work +an indefinable charm.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE GLORY OF GOD.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The heavens declare the glory of God;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the firmament sheweth his handywork.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Day unto day uttereth speech,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And night unto night sheweth knowledge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is no speech nor language,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where their voice is not heard.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their line is gone out through all the earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And their words to the end of the world.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which is as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His going forth is from the end of the heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his circuit unto the ends of it:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there is nothing hid from the heat thereof.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More to be desired are they than gold; yea than much fine gold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moreover by them is thy servant warned;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in keeping of them there is great reward.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Who can understand his errors?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cleanse thou me from secret faults.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let them not have dominion over me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then shall I be upright, and I shall be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Innocent from the great transgression.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be acceptable in thy sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Lord, my strength, and my redeemer.<br /></span> +<div class="signature2">—<i>From the Psalms of David.</i></div> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<h2>THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURN.</h2> + +<p>The Battle of Bannockburn, in Scotland, was one of +the most famous in history. It was fought June 24th, +1314, between Robert Bruce of Scotland and Edward II. +of England. The army of Bruce consisted of 30,000 +men; that of Edward of 100,000, of whom 52,000 were +archers. The story of the battle is thus described by Sir +Walter Scott in his "Tales of a Grandfather":</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>Now when Sir Philip Mowbray, the governor of Stirling, +came to London, to tell the King, that Stirling, the +last Scottish town of importance which remained in possession +of the English, was to be surrendered if it were +not relieved by force of arms before midsummer, then all +the English nobles called out, it would be a sin and shame + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +to permit the fair conquest which Edward the First had +made, to be forfeited to the Scots for want of fighting. +It was, therefore, resolved, that the King should go himself +to Scotland, with as great forces as he could possibly +muster.</p> + +<p>King Edward the Second, therefore, assembled one of +the greatest armies which a King of England ever commanded. +There were troops brought from all his dominions. +Many brave soldiers from the French provinces +which the King of England possessed in France,—many +Irish, many Welsh,—and all the great English nobles and +barons, with their followers, were assembled in one great +army.</p> + +<p>King Robert the Bruce summoned all his nobles and +barons to join him, when he heard of the great preparations +which the King of England was making. They +were not so numerous as the English by many thousand +men. In fact, his whole army did not very much exceed +thirty thousand, and they were much worse armed than +the wealthy Englishmen; but then, Robert, who was +at their head, was one of the most expert generals of +the time; and the officers he had under him, were his +brother Edward, his nephew Randolph, his faithful follower +the Douglas, and other brave and experienced leaders, +who commanded the same men that had been +accustomed to fight and gain victories under every disadvantage +of situation and numbers.</p> + +<p>The King, on his part, studied how he might supply, +by address and stratagem, what he wanted in numbers +and strength. He knew the superiority of the English, + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +both in their heavy-armed cavalry, which were much +better mounted and armed than that of the Scots, and in +their archers, who were better trained than any others in +the world. Both these advantages he resolved to provide +against. With this purpose, he led his army down into a +plain near Stirling, called the Park, near which, and beneath +it, the English army must needs pass through a +boggy country, broken with water courses, while the Scots +occupied hard dry ground. He then caused all the +ground upon the front of his line of battle, where cavalry +were likely to act, to be dug full of holes, about as deep +as a man's knee. They were filled with light brushwood, +and the turf was laid on the top, so that it appeared a +plain field, while in reality it was all full of these pits as +a honeycomb is of holes. He also, it is said, caused steel +spikes, called calthrops, to be scattered up and down in +the plain, where the English cavalry were most likely +to advance, trusting in that manner to lame and destroy +their horses.</p> + +<p>When the Scottish army was drawn up, the line stretched +north and south. On the south, it was terminated by +the banks of the brook called Bannockburn, which are so +rocky, that no troops could attack them there. On the +left, the Scottish line extended near to the town of Stirling. +Bruce reviewed his troops very carefully; all the +useless servants, drivers of carts, and such like, of whom +there were very many, he ordered to go behind a height, +afterwards, in memory of the event, called the Gillies' +hill, that is, the Servants' hill. He then spoke to the +soldiers, and expressed his determination to gain the + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +victory, or to lose his life on the field of battle. He +desired that all those who did not propose to fight to the +last, should leave the field before the battle began, and +that none should remain except those who were determined +to take the issue of victory or death, as God should +send it.</p> + +<p>When the main body of his army was thus placed in +order, the King posted Randolph, with a body of horse, +near to the Church of St. Ninian's, commanding him to +use the utmost diligence to prevent any succors from +being thrown into Stirling Castle. He then dispatched +James of Douglas, and Sir Robert Keith, the Mareschal of +the Scottish army, in order that they might survey, as +nearly as they could, the English force, which was now +approaching from Falkirk. They returned with information, +that the approach of that vast host was one of the +most beautiful and terrible sights which could be seen,—that +the whole country seemed covered with men at +arms on horse and foot,—that the number of standards, +banners, and pennons (all flags of different kinds) made so +gallant a show, that the bravest and most numerous host +in Christendom might be alarmed to see King Edward +moving against them.</p> + +<p>It was upon the twenty-third of June (1314) the King +of Scotland heard the news, that the English army were +approaching Stirling. He drew out his army, therefore, in +the order which he had before resolved on. After a short +time, Bruce, who was looking out anxiously for the enemy, +saw a body of English cavalry trying to get into Stirling +from the eastward. This was the Lord Clifford, who, + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +with a chosen body of eight hundred horse had been +detached to relieve the castle.</p> + +<p>"See, Randolph," said the King to his nephew, "there +is a rose fallen from your chaplet." By this he meant +that Randolph had lost some honor, by suffering the +enemy to pass where he had been stationed to hinder +them. Randolph made no reply, but rushed against Clifford +with little more than half his number. The Scots +were on foot. The English turned to charge them with +their lances, and Randolph drew up his men in close order +to receive the onset. He seemed to be in so much danger, +that Douglas asked leave of the King to go and assist +him. The King refused him permission.</p> + +<p>"Let Randolph," he said, "redeem his own fault; I +can not break the order of battle for his sake." Still the +danger appeared greater, and the English horse seemed +entirely to encompass the small handful of Scottish infantry. +"So please you," said Douglas to the King, "my +heart will not suffer me to stand idle and see Randolph +perish—I must go to his assistance." He rode off accordingly; +but long before they had reached the place of +combat, they saw the English horses galloping off, many +with empty saddles.</p> + +<p>"Halt!" said Douglas to his men, "Randolph has +gained the day; since we were not soon enough to help +him in the battle, do not let us lessen his glory by approaching +the field." Now, that was nobly done; especially +as Douglas and Randolph were always contending +which should rise highest in the good opinion of the King +and the nation.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> + The van of the English army now came in sight, and a +number of their bravest knights drew near to see what +the Scots were doing. They saw King Robert dressed in +his armor, and distinguished by a gold crown, which he +wore over his helmet. He was not mounted on his great +war horse, because he did not expect to fight that evening. +But he rode on a little pony up and down the ranks +of his army, putting his men in order, and carried in his +hand a short battle ax made of steel. When the King +saw the English horsemen draw near, he advanced a little +before his own men, that he might look at them more +nearly.</p> + +<p>There was a knight among the English, called Sir +Henry de Bohun, who thought this would be a good opportunity +to gain great fame to himself, and put an end +to the war, by killing King Robert. The King being +poorly mounted, and having no lance, Bohun galloped on +him suddenly and furiously, thinking, with his long spear, +and his tall powerful horse, easily to bear him down to +the ground. King Robert saw him, and permitted him +to come very near, then suddenly turned his pony a little +to one side, so that Sir Henry missed him with the lance +point, and was in the act of being carried past him by the +career of his horse. But as he passed, King Robert rose +up in his stirrups, and struck Sir Henry on the head with +his battle ax so terrible a blow, that it broke to pieces +his iron helmet as if it had been a nutshell, and hurled +him from his saddle. He was dead before he reached the +ground. This gallant action was blamed by the Scottish +leaders, who thought Bruce ought not to have exposed + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +himself to so much danger, when the safety of the whole +army depended on him. The King only kept looking at +his weapon, which was injured by the force of the blow, +and said, "I have broken my good battle ax."</p> + +<p>The next morning, being the twenty-fourth of June, at +break of day, the battle began in terrible earnest. The +English as they advanced saw the Scots getting into line. +The Abbot of Inchaffray walked through their ranks +barefooted, and exhorted them to fight for their freedom. +They kneeled down as he passed, and prayed to heaven +for victory. King Edward, who saw this, called out, +"They kneel down—they are asking forgiveness." +"Yes," said a celebrated English baron, called Ingelram +de Umphraville, "but they ask it from God, not from us—these +men will conquer, or die upon the field."</p> + +<p>The English King ordered his men to begin the battle. +The archers then bent their bows, and began to shoot so +closely together, that the arrows fell like flakes of snow +on a Christmas day. But Bruce, as I told you before, was +prepared for them. He had in readiness a body of men at +arms well mounted, who rode at full gallop among the +archers, and as they had no weapons save their bows and +arrows, which they could not use when they were attacked +hand to hand, they were cut down in great numbers, and +thrown into total confusion.</p> + +<p>The fine English cavalry then advanced to support +their archers, and to attack the Scottish line. But coming +over the ground, which was dug full of pits, the +horses fell into these holes, and the riders lay tumbling +about, without any means of defense, and unable to rise, + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +from the weight of their armor. The Englishmen began +to fall into general disorder; and the Scottish King, +bringing up more of his forces, attacked and pressed +them still more closely.</p> + +<p>On a sudden, while the battle was obstinately maintained +on both sides, an event happened which decided +the victory. The servants and attendants on the Scottish +camp had, as I told you, been sent behind the army +to a place afterwards called the Gillies' hill. But when +they saw that their masters were likely to gain the day, +they rushed from their place of concealment with such +weapons as they could get, that they might have their +share in the victory and in the spoil. The English, seeing +them come suddenly over the hill, mistook this disorderly +rabble for a new army coming up to sustain the +Scots, and, losing all heart, began to shift every man for +himself. Edward himself left the field as fast as he could +ride. A valiant knight, Sir Giles de Argentine, attended +the King till he got him out of the press of the combat. +But he would retreat no farther. "It is not my custom," +he said, "to fly." With that he took leave of the King, set +spurs to horse, and calling out his war cry of Argentine! +Argentine! he rushed into the thickest of the Scottish +ranks, and was killed.</p> + +<p>Edward first fled to Stirling Castle, and entreated admittance; +but Sir Philip Mowbray, the governor, reminded +the fugitive sovereign that he was obliged to surrender +the castle next day, so Edward was fain to fly through +the Torwood, closely pursued by Douglas with a body of +cavalry. An odd circumstance happened during the + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +chase, which showed how loosely some of the Scottish +barons of that day held their political opinions: As +Douglas was riding furiously after Edward, he met a +Scottish knight, Sir Laurence Abernethy, with twenty +horse. Sir Laurence had hitherto owned the English interest, +and was bringing this band of followers to serve +King Edward's army. But learning from Douglas that +the English King was entirely defeated, he changed sides +on the spot, and was easily prevailed upon to join Douglas +in pursuing the unfortunate Edward, with the very followers +whom he had been leading to join his standard.</p> + +<p>Douglas and Abernethy followed King Edward as far +as Dunbar, where the English had still a friend, in the +governor, Patrick, Earl of March. The Earl received +Edward in his forlorn condition, and furnished him with a +fishing skiff, or small ship, in which he escaped to England, +having entirely lost his fine army, and a great number of +his bravest nobles.</p> + +<p>The English never before or afterwards, whether in +France or Scotland, lost so dreadful a battle as that of +Bannockburn, nor did the Scots ever gain one of the same +importance.</p> +</div> + +<p>Such is the story that is told by Sir Walter Scott in his +"Tales of a Grandfather." It will be interesting now to +read Burns's poem beginning, "Scots wha hae wi' Wallace +bled," which we can easily imagine to be Bruce's +address to his men at the beginning of the great fight. +Read also Sir Walter Scott's metrical description of the +battle, in the long poem entitled "The Lord of the Isles."</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE SOLDIER'S DREAM.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our bugles sang truce; for the night cloud had lowered,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thousands had sunk on the ground overpowered—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When reposing that night on my pallet of straw,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By the wolf-scaring fagot that guarded the slain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And thrice ere the morning I dreamed it again.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Methought from the battlefield's dreadful array,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Far, far I had roamed on a desolate track;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas autumn—and sunshine arose on the way<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I flew to the pleasant fields traversed so oft<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In life's morning march, when my bosom was young;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard my own mountain goats bleating aloft,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And knew the sweet strain that the corn reapers sung.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then pledged we the wine cup, and fondly I swore<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From my home and my weeping friends never to part;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My little ones kissed me a thousand times o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And my wife sobbed aloud in her fulness of heart.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Stay, stay with us!—rest; thou art weary and worn!"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And fain was their war-broken soldier to stay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But sorrow returned with the dawning of morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away!<br /></span> +<div class="signature2">—<i>Thomas Campbell.</i></div> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> +<h2>LORD ULLIN'S DAUGHTER.</h2> + +<div class="figleft2" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0076-illus.jpg" id="p0076-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0076-illus.jpg" width="200" height="217" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Thomas Campbell.</p> +</div> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A chieftain, to the Highlands bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cries, "Boatman, do not tarry!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll give thee a silver pound<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To row us o'er the ferry."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now who be ye, would cross Lochgyle,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This dark and stormy water?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Oh, I'm the chief of Ulva's isle,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And this Lord Ullin's daughter.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And fast before her father's men<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Three days we've fled together;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For should he find us in the glen,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My blood would stain the heather.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"His horsemen hard behind us ride:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Should they our steps discover,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then who will cheer my bonny bride<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When they have slain her lover?"<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out spoke the hardy Highland wight:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"I'll go, my chief: I'm ready<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is not for your silver bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But for your winsome lady;<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> + <span class="i0">"And, by my word, the bonny bird<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In danger shall not tarry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, though the waves are raging white,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I'll row you o'er the ferry."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By this the storm grew loud apace;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The water wraith was shrieking;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the scowl of heaven each face<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Grew dark as they were speaking.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But still, as wilder blew the wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And as the night grew drearer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adown the glen rode arméd men;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their trampling sounded nearer.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh haste thee, haste," the lady cries,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Though tempests round us gather,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll meet the raging of the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But not an angry father."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The boat has left a stormy land,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A stormy sea before her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, oh, too strong for human hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The tempest gathered o'er her.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And still they rowed amidst the roar<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of waters fast prevailing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord Ullin reached that fatal shore:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His wrath was changed to wailing;<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> + <span class="i0">For, sore dismayed, through storm and shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His child he did discover:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One lovely hand she stretch'd for aid,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And one was round her lover.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come back! come back!" he cried in grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Across this stormy water;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I'll forgive your Highland chief,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My daughter! oh, my daughter!"<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas vain! The loud waves lashed the shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Return or aid preventing:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waters wild went o'er his child,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And he was left lamenting.<br /></span> +<div class="signature2">—<i>Thomas Campbell.</i></div> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<h2>BEETHOVEN'S MOONLIGHT SONATA.</h2> + +<p>Among the great musical composers of modern times +there have been few who rank with Ludwig van Beethoven. +This famous man was born in Bonn, Germany, +in 1770; he died at Vienna in 1827. It may be truthfully +said that the works of Beethoven created a new epoch in +the history and development of music, and his compositions +lose none of their popularity as the years go by.</p> + +<p>Beethoven's life was a sad one. He was alone in the +world, deaf, and the object of unkind treatment by those +who should have been his friends. How nobly he rose above +all petty annoyances, we can readily understand when we +listen to the grand and solemn strains of his immortal + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +music. The following story illustrates the kindliness +of his nature and shows how some of his works seemed +to be almost the result of inspiration.</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0079-illus.jpg" id="p0079-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0079-illus.jpg" width="200" height="246" alt="His portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Ludwig van Beethoven.</p> +</div> +<p>It happened at Bonn. One moonlight winter's evening +I called upon Beethoven; for I wished him to take +a walk, and afterwards sup with me. In passing through +a dark, narrow street, he suddenly paused. +"Hush!" he said, "what sound is that? It +is from my Sonata in F. Hark! how well +it is played!"</p> + +<p>It was a little, mean dwelling, and +we paused outside and listened. The +player went on; but, in the midst of +the finale, there was a sudden break; +then the voice of sobbing. "I cannot +play any more. It is so beautiful; +it is utterly beyond my power to do it +justice. Oh, what would I not give +to go to the concert at Cologne!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! my sister," said her companion; "why create +regrets when there is no remedy? We can scarcely pay +our rent."</p> + +<p>"You are right, and yet I wish for once in my life to +hear some really good music. But it is of no use."</p> + +<p>Beethoven looked at me. "Let us go in," he said.</p> + +<p>"Go in!" I exclaimed. "What can we go in for?"</p> + +<p>"I will play to her," he said, in an excited tone. +"Here is feeling—genius—understanding! I will play +to her, and she will understand it." + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +And, before I could prevent him, his hand was upon +the door. It opened, and we entered.</p> + +<p>A pale young man was sitting by the table, making +shoes; and near him, leaning sorrowfully upon an old-fashioned +piano, sat a young girl, with a profusion of +light hair falling over her face.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me," said Beethoven, "but I heard music +and was tempted to enter. I am a musician."</p> + +<p>The girl blushed, and the young man looked grave +and somewhat annoyed.</p> + +<p>"I—I also overheard something of what you said," +continued my friend. "You wish to hear—that is, you +would like—that is—shall I play for you?"</p> + +<p>There was something so odd in the whole affair, and +something so comical and pleasant in the manner of the +speaker, that the spell was broken in a moment.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said the shoemaker; "but our piano is +so wretched, and we have no music."</p> + +<p>"No music!" echoed my friend; "how, then, does the +young lady—" He paused, and colored; for, as he +looked in the girl's face, he saw that she was blind. +"I—I entreat your pardon," he stammered. "I had not +perceived before. Then you play by ear? But where +do you hear the music, since you frequent no concerts?"</p> + +<p>"We lived at Bruhl for two years, and while there, +I used to hear a lady practicing near us. During the +summer evenings her windows were generally open, and +I walked to and fro outside to listen to her."</p> + +<p>She seemed so shy that Beethoven said no more, but +seated himself quietly before the piano and began to + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +play. He had no sooner struck the first chord than I +knew what would follow. Never, during all the years +I knew him, did I hear him play as he then played to +that blind girl and her brother. He seemed to be inspired; +and, from the instant that his fingers began to +wander along the keys, the very tone of the instrument +seemed to grow sweeter and more equal.</p> + +<p>The brother and sister were silent with wonder and +rapture. The former laid aside his work; the latter, +with her head bent slightly forward, and her hands +pressed tightly over her breast, crouched down near the +end of the piano, as if fearful lest even the beating of +her heart should break the flow of those magical sounds.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the flame of the single candle wavered, sank, +flickered, and went out. Beethoven paused, and I threw +open the shutters, admitting a flood of brilliant moonlight. +The room was almost as light as before, the +moon's rays falling strongest upon the piano and player. +His head dropped upon his breast; his hands rested +upon his knees; he seemed absorbed in deep thought. +He remained thus for some time. At length the young +shoemaker rose and approached him eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Wonderful man!" he said, in a low tone. "Who +and what are you?"</p> + +<p>"Listen!" said Beethoven, and he played the opening +bars of the Sonata in F. A cry of recognition burst from +them both, and exclaiming, "Then you are Beethoven!" +they covered his hands with tears and kisses.</p> + +<p>He rose to go, but we held him back with entreaties. +"Play to us once more—only once more!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> + He suffered himself to be led back to the instrument. +The moon shone brightly in through the window, and +lighted up his glorious, ragged head and massive figure. +"I will improvise a Sonata to the Moonlight!" said he, +looking up thoughtfully to the sky and stars. Then his +hands dropped on the keys, and he began playing a sad +and infinitely lovely movement, which crept gently over +the instrument, like the calm flow of moonlight over the +dark earth. This was followed by a wild, elfin passage +in triple time—a sort of grotesque interlude, like the +dance of sprites upon the lawn. Then came a swift +agitato finale—a breathless, hurrying, trembling movement, +descriptive of flight, and uncertainty, and vague +impulsive terror, which carried us away on its rustling +wings, and left us all in emotion and wonder.</p> + +<p>"Farewell to you!" said Beethoven, pushing back his +chair, and turning toward the door—"farewell to you!"</p> + +<p>"You will come again?" asked they, in one breath.</p> + +<p>He paused and looked compassionately, almost tenderly, +at the face of the blind girl.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," he said hurriedly, "I will come again, and +give the young lady some lessons! Farewell! I will +come again!"</p> + +<p>Their looks followed us in silence more eloquent than +words till we were out of sight.</p> + +<p>"Let us make haste back," said Beethoven, "that I +may write out that Sonata while I can yet remember it."</p> + +<p>We did so, and he sat over it until long past day dawn. +And this was the origin of that Moonlight Sonata with +which we are all so fondly acquainted.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE STORY OF TEMPE WICK.</h2> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0083-illus.jpg" id="p0083-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0083-illus.jpg" width="200" height="196" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Frank R. Stockton.</p> +</div> +<p>There are so many curious and unexpected things +which may happen in time of war, especially to people +who live in parts of a country where the enemy may +be expected to come, or where the +friendly army is already encamped, +that it is impossible to guard against +unpleasant occurrences; and it often +happens that the only thing to be +depended upon when an emergency +arises, is presence of mind, and +quickness of wit.</p> + +<p>In these qualities, New Jersey +girls have never shown +themselves behind their sisters +of other parts of the country, +and a very good proof of +this is shown by an incident +which took place near Morristown during the time that +the American army was quartered in that neighborhood.</p> + +<p>Not far from the town was a farm then known as +Wick's farm, situated in a beautiful wooded country. +The daughter of Mr. Wick, named Tempe (probably +short for Temperance), was the owner of a very fine +horse, and on this beautiful animal it was her delight +to ride over the roads and through the woods of the +surrounding country. She had been accustomed to +horses since she was a child, and was not afraid to ride +anywhere by herself.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> + When she first began to canter over these hills and +dales, it had been in times of peace, when there was +nothing in this quiet country of which any one might +be afraid; and now, although these were days of war, +she felt no fear. There were soldiers not far away, but +these she looked upon as her friends and protectors; +for Washington and his army had encamped in that +region to defend the country against the approach of +the enemy. If any straggling Redcoats should feel a +desire to come along the hills, they would be very apt +to restrain their inclinations so long as they knew that +that brave American army was encamped near by.</p> + +<p>So Miss Tempe Wick, fearing nothing, rode far and +wide, as she had been in the habit of doing, and every +day she and her good steed became better and better +acquainted with each other.</p> + +<p>One fine afternoon, as Tempe was slowly riding homeward, +within a mile of her house, she met half a dozen +soldiers in Continental uniform, and two of them, stepping +in front of her, called upon her to stop. When she +had done so, one of them seized her bridle. She did +not know the men; but still, as they belonged to Washington's +army, who were her countrymen and friends, +she saw no reason to be afraid, and asked them what +they wanted.</p> + +<p>At first she received no answer, for they were very +busily occupied in looking at her horse and expressing +their satisfaction at the fine points of the animal. Tempe +had had her horse praised before; but these men were +looking at him, and talking about him, very much as if + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +he were for sale and they were thinking of buying. +Presently one of the men said to her that this was a very +excellent horse that she was riding, and they wanted it. +To this Tempe exclaimed, in great amazement, that it +was her own horse, that she wanted him herself, and had +no wish to dispose of him. Some of the soldiers laughed, +and one of them told her that the troops were about to +move, and that good horses were greatly needed, and that +they had orders to levy upon the surrounding country +and take horses wherever they could find them.</p> + +<p>Now was Tempe astonished beyond measure. If half +a dozen British soldiers had surrounded her, and had declared +that they intended to rob her of her horse, she +would not have wondered at it, for they would have taken +it as the property of an enemy. But that the soldiers of +her own country, the men on whom she and all her friends +and neighbors depended for protection and safety, should +turn on her and rob her, as if they had been a set +of marauding Hessians, was something she could scarcely +comprehend. But it did not take her long to understand, +that no matter who they were or what they were,—whether +they thought they had a right to do what +they threatened, or whether they had no regard for right +and justice,—they were in earnest, and intended to take +her horse. When this conviction flashed into the mind +of Tempe Wick, there also flashed into it a determination +to show these men that a Jersey girl had a will of her +own, and that if they wanted her property, they would +have to do a great deal more than simply to come to her +and ask her to hand it over to them.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> + After a little parley, during which the man who held +her bridle let go of it, supposing she was about to dismount, +she suddenly gave her spirited horse a sharp cut +with the whip, dashed between two of the soldiers, and +before they could comprehend what had happened she +was off and away.</p> + +<p>As fast as they could run, the soldiers followed her, +one or two of them firing their guns in the air, thinking +to frighten her and make her stop; but, as though she +had been a deer and her pursuers ordinary hunters, she +swiftly sped away from them.</p> + +<p>But they did not give up the chase. Some of them +knew where this girl lived, and were confident that when +they reached her house, they would have the horse. If +they had known it was such a fine animal, they would +have come after it before. According to their belief, +good horses should go into the army, and people who +staid at home, and expected other people to fight for +them, ought to be willing to do what they could to help +in the good cause, and at least give their horses to the +army.</p> + +<p>As Tempe sat upon her bounding steed, she knew very +well that the soldiers could never catch her; but her +heart sank within her as she thought of what would happen +when they came to the farm and demanded her horse. +Running away from them was only postponing her trouble +for a little while, for there was no one about the place +who could prevent those men from going to the barn and +taking away the animal.</p> + +<p>It would be of no use to pass her house and ride on and + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +on. Where should she go? She must come back sometime, +and all the soldiers would have to do would be to +halt at the farm, and wait until she returned. And even +if she should take her horse into the wood and tie him to +a tree, they would know by her coming back on foot that +she had left him at no great distance, and they would be +sure to follow his tracks and find him.</p> + +<p>As Tempe rode swiftly on, her thoughts galloped as +fast as her horse, and before she reached the house she had +come to a conclusion as to the best thing to be done. She +did not ride toward the barn, but dashed through the +gateway of the large yard, and sprang from her steed. +As she turned in, she looked down the road; but the +men were not in sight. What she was going to do was +something which people never did, but it was the only +thing she could think of, and she was a girl whose actions +were as quick as her ideas were original. Without stopping +an instant, she took her horse to the back door, and +led him boldly into the house.</p> + +<p>This was not the sort of stable to which Tempe's horse +or any other American horse was accustomed; but this +animal knew his mistress, and where she led, he was willing +to follow. If one of the farm hands had attempted +to take the creature into the house, there would probably +have been some rearing and plunging; but nothing of +this kind happened as our Jersey girl, with her hand on +her horse's bridle, led him quickly inside and closed the +door behind him. As the story goes, she took him +through the kitchen, and then into the parlor, without +the slightest regard to the injury his shoes might do to + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +the well-kept floor; and from the parlor she led him into +a bedroom on the lower floor, which was usually used as a +guest chamber, but which never before had such a guest +as this.</p> + +<p>This room had but a single window, the shutters of +which were kept closed when it was not in use, and there +was no entrance to it except through the door which +opened from the parlor. The door was quickly closed, +and Tempe stood with her horse in the darkness.</p> + +<p>When the soldiers reached the farm they went to the +barn. They examined the outhouses, visited the pasture +fields, and made a thorough search, high and low, near +and far; but no sign of a horse could they find. Of +course, the notion that the animal was concealed in the +house did not enter their minds, and the only way in +which they could account for the total disappearance of +the horse was, that Tempe had ridden off with him—where +they knew not. We do not know how long they +waited for the sight of a hungry horse coming home to +his supper, but we do know that while there was the +slightest danger of her dear horse being taken away +from her, that animal remained a carefully attended guest +in the spare room of the Wick house; and the tradition +is, that he staid there three weeks. There Tempe waited +on him as if he had been a visitor of high degree; and if +she was afraid to go to the barn to bring him hay and +oats, she doubtless gave him biscuit and soft bread,—dainties +of which a horse is very fond, especially when +they are brought to him by such a kind mistress as +Tempe.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]<br />[Pg 90]</a></span> + When the cavalry moved away from their camp near +Morristown, no one of them rode on that fine horse on +which they had seen a girl gayly cantering, and which, +when they had been about to put their hands upon it, had +flown away, like a butterfly from under the straw hat of a +schoolboy. When the troops were gone, the horse came +out of the guest chamber and went back to his stall in the +stable; and that room in which he passed so many quiet +days, and the door through which the horse timidly +stepped under the shadow of that hospitable roof, are still +to be seen at the old Wick house, which stands now, as it +stood then, with its shaded yard and the great willow tree +behind it, on the pleasant country road by which we may +drive from Morristown to Mendham by the way of +Washington Corner.</p> + +<div class="signature">—<i>From "Stories of New Jersey," by Frank R. Stockton.</i></div> + + +<hr /> +<h2>LIFE IN NORMAN ENGLAND.</h2> + +<p>The tall frowning keep and solid walls of the great +stone castles, in which the Norman barons lived, betokened +an age of violence and suspicion. Beauty gave +way to the needs of safety. Girdled with its green and +slimy ditch, round the inner edge of which ran a parapeted +wall pierced along the top with shot holes, stood +the buildings, spreading often over many acres.</p> + +<div class="figcenter bord" style="width: 500px;"> + <a name="p0090-illus.jpg" id="p0090-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0090-illus.jpg" width="500" height="303" alt="A castle" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">From a Photograph. Engraved by John Evans.<br /> + Ruins of a Norman Castle.</p> +</div> + +<p>If an enemy managed to cross the moat and force the +gateway, in spite of a portcullis crashing from above, and + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +melted lead pouring in burning streams from the perforated +top of the rounded arch, but little of his work was +yet done; for the keep lifted its huge angular block of +masonry within the inner bailey or courtyard, and from +the narrow chinks in its ten-foot wall rained a sharp incessant +shower of arrows, sweeping all approaches to the +high and narrow stair, by which alone access could be +had to its interior.</p> + +<p>These loopholes were the only windows, except in the +topmost story, where the chieftain, like a vulture in his +rocky nest, watched all the surrounding country. The +day of splendid oriels had not yet come in castle architecture.</p> + +<p>Thus a baron in his keep could defy, and often did +defy, the king upon his throne. Under his roof, eating +daily at his board, lived a throng of armed retainers; +and around his castle lay farms tilled by martial franklins, +who at his call laid aside their implements of husbandry, +took up the sword and spear, which they could +wield with equal skill, and marched beneath his banner to +the war.</p> + +<p>With robe ungirt and head uncovered each tenant had +done homage and sworn an oath of fealty, placing his +joined hands between those of the sitting baron, and +humbly saying as he knelt, "I become your man from +this day forward, of life and limb and of earthly worship; +and unto you I shall be true and faithful, and bear to you +faith for the tenements that I claim to hold of you, saving +the faith that I owe unto our sovereign lord the king." +A kiss from the baron completed the ceremony.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0092-illus.jpg" id="p0092-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0092-illus.jpg" width="200" height="263" alt="A lamp" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Horn Lantern.</p> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> + The furniture of a Norman keep was not unlike that +of an English house. There was richer ornament—more +elaborate carving. A <i>faldestol</i>, the original of our arm-chair, +spread its drapery and cushions for the chieftain in +his lounging moods. His bed now boasted curtains and +a roof, although, like the English lord, he still lay only +upon straw. Chimneys tunneled the thick walls, and +the cupboards glittered with glass and silver. Horn +lanterns and the old spiked candlesticks lit up +his evening hours, when the chessboard arrayed +its clumsy men, carved out of walrus tusk, +then commonly called whale's-bone. But +the baron had an unpleasant trick of breaking +the chessboard on his opponent's head, +when he found himself checkmated; which +somewhat marred said opponent's enjoyment +of the game. Dice of horn and bone emptied +many a purse in Norman England.</p> + +<p>Dances and music whiled away the long winter +nights; and on summer evenings the castle courtyards +resounded with the noise of football, <i>kayles</i> (a sort +of ninepins), wrestling, boxing, leaping, and the fierce +joys of the bull bait. But out of doors, when no fighting +was on hand, the hound, the hawk, and the lance +attracted the best energies and skill of the Norman +gentleman.</p> + +<p>Rousing the forest game with dogs, they shot at it +with barbed and feathered arrows. A field of ripening +corn never turned the chase aside: it was one privilege of +a feudal baron to ride as he pleased over his tenants' + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +crops, and another to quarter his insolent hunting train +in the farmhouses which pleased him best! The elaborate +details of <i>woodcraft</i> became an important part of a +noble boy's education; for the numerous bugle calls and +scientific dissection of a dead stag took many seasons to +learn.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 150px;"> + <a name="p0093-illus.jpg" id="p0093-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0093-illus.jpg" width="150" height="333" alt="A hooded bird" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">The Hawk.</p> +</div> +<p>After the Conquest, to kill a deer or own a hawk came +more than ever to be regarded as the special privilege of +the aristocracy. The hawk, daintily dressed, as befitted +the companion of nobility, with his head wrapped +in an embroidered hood, and a peal of silver bells +tinkling from his rough legs, sat in state, bound +with leathern jesses to the wrist, which was protected +by a thick glove. The ladies and the clergy +loved him. By many a mere the abbots ambled +on their ponies over the swampy soil, and sweet +shrill voices cheered the long-winged hawk, as he +darted off in pursuit of the soaring quarry.</p> + +<p>The author of "Ivanhoe" has made the tournament +a picture familiar to all readers of romance. It +therefore needs no long description here. It was held +in honor of some great event—a coronation, wedding, +or victory. Having practiced well during squirehood +at the <i>quintain</i>, the knight, clad in full armor, with +visor barred and the colors of his lady on crest and +scarf, rode into the lists, for which some level green was +chosen and surrounded with a palisade.</p> + +<p>For days before, his shield had been hanging in a neighboring +church, as a sign of his intention to compete in +this great game of chivalry. If any stain lay on his + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +knighthood, a lady, by touching the suspended shield +with a wand, could debar him from a share in the jousting. +And if, when he had entered the lists he was rude +to a lady, or broke in any way the etiquette of the tilt +yard, he was beaten from the lists with the ashwood +lances of the knights.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0094-illus.jpg" id="p0094-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0094-illus.jpg" width="200" height="307" alt="A man in armor" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">The Knight.</p> +</div> +<p>The simple joust was the shock +of two knights, who galloped with +leveled spears at each other, aiming +at breast or head, with the +object either of unhorsing the antagonist, +or, if he sat his charger +well, of splintering the lance upon +his helmet or his shield. The +mellay hurled together, at the +dropping of the prince's baton, +two parties of knights, who +hacked away at each other with +ax and mace and sword, often +gashing limbs and breaking bones +in the wild excitement of the +fray. Bright eyes glanced from +the surrounding galleries upon the brutal sport; and +when the victor, with broken plume, and battered armor, +dragged his weary limbs to the footstool of the beauty +who presided as Queen over the festival, her white hands +decorated him with the meed of his achievements.</p> + +<p>The Normans probably dined at nine in the morning. +When they rose they took a light meal; and ate something +also after their day's work, immediately before going + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +to bed. Goose and garlic formed a favorite dish. Their +cookery was more elaborate, and, in comparison, more +delicate, than the preparations for an English feed; but +the character for temperance, which they brought with +them from the Continent, soon vanished.</p> + +<p>The poorer classes hardly ever ate flesh, living principally +on bread, butter, and cheese,—a social fact which +seems to underlie that usage of our tongue by which the +living animals in field or stall bore English names—ox, +sheep, calf, pig, deer; while their flesh, promoted to Norman +dishes, rejoiced in names of French origin—beef, +mutton, veal, pork, venison. Round cakes, piously +marked with a cross, piled the tables, on which pastry +of various kinds also appeared. In good houses cups of +glass held the wine, which was borne from the cellar +below in jugs.</p> + +<p>Squatted around the door or on the stair leading to +the Norman dining hall, was a crowd of beggars or +lickers, who grew so insolent in the days of Rufus, that +ushers, armed with rods, were posted outside to beat back +the noisy throng, who thought little of snatching the +dishes as the cooks carried them to table!</p> + +<p>The juggler, who under the Normans filled the place +of the English gleeman, tumbled, sang, and balanced +knives in the hall; or out in the bailey of an afternoon +displayed the acquirements of his trained monkey or bear. +The fool, too, clad in colored patchwork, cracked his +ribald jokes and shook his cap and bells at the elbow of +roaring barons, when the board was spread and the circles +of the wine began.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> + While knights hunted in the greenwood or tilted in the +lists, and jugglers tumbled in the noisy hall, the monk in +the quiet scriptorium compiled chronicles of passing +events, copied valuable manuscripts, and painted rich +borders and brilliant initials on every page. These illuminations +form a valuable set of materials for our pictures +of life in the Middle Ages.</p> + +<p>Monasteries served many useful purposes at the time of +which I write. Besides their manifest value as centers of +study and literary work, they gave alms to the poor, a +supper and a bed to travelers; their tenants were better +off and better treated than the tenants of the nobles; the +monks could store grain, grow apples, and cultivate their +flower beds with little risk of injury from war, because +they had spiritual thunders at their call, which awed even +the most reckless of the soldiery into a respect for sacred +property.</p> + +<p>Splendid structures those monasteries generally were, +since that vivid taste for architecture which the Norman +possessed in a high degree, and which could not find room +for its display in the naked strength of the solid keep, +lavished its entire energy and grace upon buildings lying +in the safe shadow of the Cross. Nor was architectural +taste the only reason for their magnificence. Since they +were nearly all erected as offerings to Heaven, the religion +of the age impelled the pious builders to spare no cost in +decorating the exterior with fretwork and sculpture of +Caen stone, the interior with gilded cornices and windows +of painted glass.</p> + +<p>As schools, too, the monasteries did no trifling service + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +to society in the Middle Ages. In addition to their influence +as great centers of learning, English law had enjoined +every mass priest to keep a school in his parish church, +where all the young committed to his care might be instructed. +This custom continued long after the Norman +Conquest. In the Trinity College Psalter we have a picture +of a Norman school, where the pupils sit in a circular +row around the master as he lectures to them from a long +roll of manuscript. Two writers sit by the desk, busy +with copies resembling that which the teacher holds.</p> + +<p>The youth of the middle classes, destined for the cloister +or the merchant's stall, chiefly thronged these schools. +The aristocracy cared little for book-learning. Very few +indeed of the barons could read or write. But all could +ride, fence, tilt, play, and carve extremely well; for to +these accomplishments many years of pagehood and +squirehood were given.</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>The foregoing description of manners and customs +during the age of feudalism has been adapted from +a popular "History of England," by W. F. Collier. A +much fuller description may be found in Knight's "History +of England," and in Green's "Short History of the +English People." The period described was in many +respects the most romantic in the history of the world, +and many delightful and instructive books have been +written concerning it. Read Scott's "Ivanhoe" and +"The Talisman." Reference may also be had to Pauli's +"Pictures of Old England," and Jusserand's "English +Wayfaring Life in the Middle Ages."</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE ROMANCE OF THE SWAN'S NEST.</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0098-illus.jpg" id="p0098-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0098-illus.jpg" width="200" height="252" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Elizabeth Barrett Browning.</p> +</div> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"So the dreams depart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So the fading phantoms flee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the sharp reality<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now must act its part."<br /></span> +<div class="signature2">—<i>Westwood's "Beads from a Rosary."</i></div> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h3>I.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Little Ellie sits alone<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Mid the beeches of a meadow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By a stream side on the grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the trees are showering down<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Doubles of their leaves in shadow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On her shining hair and face.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h3>II.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She has thrown her bonnet by,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And her feet she has been dipping<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the shallow water's flow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now she holds them nakedly<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In her hands, all sleek and dripping,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While she rocketh to and fro.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h3>III.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Little Ellie sits alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the smile she softly uses<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fills the silence like a speech,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> + <span class="i0">While she thinks what shall be done,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the sweetest pleasure chooses<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For her future within reach.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h3>IV.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Little Ellie in her smile<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Chooses, "I will have a lover,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Riding on a steed of steeds:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He shall love me without guile,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And to <i>him</i> I will discover<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The swan's nest among the reeds.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h3>V.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And the steed shall be red roan,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the lover shall be noble,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With an eye that takes the breath.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the lute he plays upon<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shall strike ladies into trouble,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As his sword strikes men to death.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h3>VI.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And the steed it shall be shod<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All in silver, housed in azure;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the mane shall swim the wind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the hoofs along the sod<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shall flash onward, and keep measure,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till the shepherds look behind.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h3>VII.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But my lover will not prize<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All the glory that he rides in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When he gazes in my face.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> + <span class="i0">He will say, 'O Love, thine eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Build the shrine my soul abides in,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I kneel here for thy grace!'<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h3>VIII.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then, aye, then he shall kneel low,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the red-roan steed anear him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which shall seem to understand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till I answer, 'Rise and go!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For the world must love and fear him<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whom I gift with heart and hand.'<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h3>IX.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then he will arise so pale,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I shall feel my own lips tremble<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With a <i>yes</i> I must not say:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nathless maiden brave, 'Farewell,'<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I will utter, and dissemble—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Light to-morrow with to-day!'<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h3>X.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then he'll ride among the hills<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To the wide world past the river,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There to put away all wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make straight distorted wills,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And to empty the broad quiver<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which the wicked bear along.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h3>XI.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Three times shall a young foot page<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Swim the stream, and climb the mountain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And kneel down beside my feet:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> + <span class="i0">'Lo! my master sends this gage,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lady, for thy pity's counting.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What wilt thou exchange for it?'<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h3>XII.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And the first time I will send<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A white rosebud for a guerdon—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the second time, a glove;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the third time—I may bend<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From my pride, and answer—'Pardon,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If he comes to take my love.'<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h3>XIII.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Then the young foot page will run—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then my lover will ride faster,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till he kneeleth at my knee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'I am a duke's eldest son!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thousand serfs do call me master,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But, O Love, I love but <i>thee</i>!'"...<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h3>XIV.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Little Ellie, with her smile<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not yet ended, rose up gayly,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tied the bonnet, donned the shoe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And went homeward, round a mile,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Just to see, as she did daily,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What more eggs were with the two.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h3>XV.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pushing through the elm-tree copse,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Winding up the stream, light-hearted,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where the osier pathway leads,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Past the boughs she stoops, and stops.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lo, the wild swan had deserted,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And a rat had gnawed the reeds!<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h3>XVI.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ellie went home sad and slow.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If she found the lover ever,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With his red-roan steed of steeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sooth I know not; but I know<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She could never show him—never,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That swan's nest among the reeds.<br /></span> +<div class="signature2">—<i>Elizabeth Barrett Browning.</i></div> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<h2>A PATRIARCH OF THE OLDEN TIME</h2> + +<p>Oh that I were as in months past, as in the days when +God preserved me; when his candle shined upon my +head, and when by his light I walked through darkness; +as I was in the days of my youth, when the secret of +God was upon my tabernacle; when the Almighty was +yet with me; when my children were about me; when I +washed my steps with butter, and the rock poured me +out rivers of oil.</p> + +<p>When the ear heard me, then it blessed me; and when +the eye saw me, it gave witness to me: because I delivered +the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that +had none to help him. The blessing of him that was +ready to perish came upon me; and I caused the widow's +heart to sing for joy. I was eyes to the blind, and feet + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +was I to the lame. I was a father to the poor; and the +cause which I knew not, I searched out.</p> + +<p>Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? Was not +my soul grieved for the poor? Let me be weighed in an +even balance that God may know mine integrity. If I +did despise the cause of my man servant or of my maid +servant, when they contended with me, what then shall I +do when God riseth up? and when he visiteth, what +shall I answer him? Did not he that made me make +him also?</p> + +<p>If I have withheld the poor from their desire, or have +caused the eyes of the widow to fail, or have eaten my +morsel myself alone, and the fatherless hath not eaten +thereof; if I have seen any perish for want of clothing, +or any poor without covering; if his loins have not blessed +me, and if he were not warmed with the fleece of my +sheep; if I have lifted up my hand against the fatherless, +when I saw my help in the gate; then let mine arm fall +from my shoulder blade, and mine arm be broken from +the bone.</p> + +<p>If I rejoiced at the destruction of him that hated me, +or lifted up myself when evil found him (neither have +I suffered my mouth to sin, by wishing a curse to his soul. +The stranger did not lodge in the street; but I opened +my doors to the traveler). If my land cry against me, or +the furrows likewise thereof complain; if I have eaten +the fruits thereof without money, or have caused the +owners thereof to lose their life: let thistles grow instead +of wheat, and cockle instead of barley.</p> + +<div class="signature">—<i>From the "Book of Job."</i></div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> +<h2>HOW CORTÉS ENTERED THE CITY OF MEXICO.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0104-illus.jpg" id="p0104-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0104-illus.jpg" width="200" height="197" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">William H. Prescott.</p> +</div> +<p>Mexico, when first discovered by +Europeans, was inhabited by a civilized +race called Aztecs. The conquest +of that country and the +subjugation of its people by the +Spaniards under Hernando +Cortés, in 1518–21, was one +of the most remarkable episodes +in the history of the +Western Continent. William +H. Prescott, our American +historian, in his "Conquest of +Mexico," has told the story of +that event in a manner so delightful that the whole +narrative reads like a romance. His description of the +entry of the Spaniards into the capital city of the Aztecs +is as follows:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>It was the eighth of November, 1519, a conspicuous +day in history, as that on which the Europeans first set +foot in the capital of the Western World.</p> + +<p>Cortés with his little body of horse formed a sort of +advanced guard to the army. Then came the Spanish +infantry, who in a summer's campaign had acquired the +discipline and the weather-beaten aspect of veterans. +The baggage occupied the center; and the rear was +closed by the dark files of Tlascalan warriors. The + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +whole number must have fallen short of seven thousand; +of which fewer than four hundred were Spaniards.</p> + +<p>Everywhere the conquerors beheld the evidence of a +crowded and thriving population, exceeding all they had +yet seen. The temples and principal buildings of the +cities were covered with a hard white stucco, which +glistened like enamel in the level beams of the morning. +The margin of the lake was thickly gemmed with towns +and hamlets. The water was darkened by swarms of +canoes filled with Indians, who clambered up the sides +of the causeway and gazed with curious astonishment +on the strangers. And here, also, they beheld those +fairy islands of flowers, overshadowed occasionally by +trees of considerable size, rising and falling with the +gentle undulation of the billows.</p> + +<p>At the distance of half a league from the capital, they +encountered a solid work, or curtain of stone, which +traversed the dike. It was twelve feet high, was +strengthened by towers at the extremities, and in the +center was a battlemented gateway, which opened a +passage to the troops.</p> + +<p>Here they were met by several hundred Aztec chiefs, +who came out to announce the approach of Montezuma +and to welcome the Spaniards to his capital. They were +dressed in the fanciful gala costume of the country, with +the <i>maxlatl</i>, or cotton sash, around their loins, and a +broad mantle of the same material, or of the brilliant +feather embroidery, flowing gracefully down their shoulders. +On their necks and arms they displayed collars and +bracelets of turquoise mosaic, with which delicate plumage + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +was curiously mingled, while their ears and underlips, +and occasionally their noses, were garnished with pendants +formed of precious stones, or crescents of fine gold.</p> + +<p>As each cacique made the usual formal salutation of +the country separately to the general, the tedious ceremony +delayed the march more than an hour. After +this the army experienced no further interruption till +it reached a bridge near the gates of the city. It was +built of wood, and was thrown across an opening of +the dike, which furnished an outlet to the waters when +agitated by the winds or swollen by a sudden influx in +the rainy season. It was a drawbridge; and the Spaniards, +as they crossed it, felt how truly they were committing +themselves to the mercy of Montezuma, who, +by thus cutting off their communications with the +country, might hold them prisoners in his capital.</p> + +<p>In the midst of these unpleasant reflections, they beheld +the glittering retinue of the emperor emerging +from the great street which led then, as it still does, +through the heart of the city. Amidst a crowd of +Indian nobles, preceded by three officers of state bearing +golden wands, they saw the royal palanquin blazing +with burnished gold. It was borne on the shoulders of +nobles, and over it a canopy of gaudy feather work, powdered +with jewels and fringed with silver, was supported +by four attendants of the same rank. They were barefooted, +and walked with a slow, measured pace, and with +eyes bent on the ground.</p> + +<p>When the train had come within a convenient distance, +it halted, and Montezuma, descending from his litter, + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +came forward, leaning on the arms of the lords of +Tezcuco and Iztapalapan, his nephew and brother, both +of whom had already been made known to the Spaniards. +As the monarch advanced under the canopy, the obsequious +attendants strewed the ground with cotton tapestry, +that his imperial feet might not be contaminated by +the rude soil. His subjects of high and low degree, who +lined the sides of the causeway, bent forward with their +eyes fastened on the ground as he passed, and some of +the humbler class prostrated themselves before him.</p> + +<p>Montezuma wore the girdle and ample square cloak, <i>tilmatli</i>, +of his nation. It was made of the finest cotton, with +the embroidered ends gathered in a knot round his neck. +His feet were defended by sandals having soles of gold, +and the leathern thongs which bound them to his ankles +were embossed with the same metal. Both the cloak and +sandals were sprinkled with pearls and precious stones, +among which the emerald, and another green stone of +high estimation among the Aztecs, were conspicuous. +On his head he wore no other ornament than a <i>panache</i> +of plumes of the royal green, which floated down his +back, the badge of military, rather than of regal, rank.</p> + +<p>He was at this time about forty years of age. His +person was tall and thin, but not ill made. His hair, +which was black and straight, was not very long; to wear +it short was considered unbecoming to persons of rank. +His beard was thin; his complexion somewhat paler than +is often found in his dusky, or rather copper-colored, race. +His features, though serious in their expression, did not +wear the look of melancholy, indeed of dejection, which + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +characterizes his portrait, and which may well have settled +on them at a later period. He moved with dignity, and +his whole demeanor, tempered by an expression of benignity +not to have been anticipated from the reports circulated +of his character, was worthy of a great prince.</p> + +<p>The army halted as he drew near. Cortés, dismounting, +threw his reins to a page, and supported by a few +of the principal cavaliers, advanced to meet him. The +interview must have been one of uncommon interest to +both. In Montezuma, Cortés beheld the lord of the +broad realms he had traversed, whose magnificence and +power had been the burden of every tongue. In the +Spaniard, on the other hand, the Aztec prince saw the +strange being whose history seemed to be so mysteriously +connected with his own; the predicted one of his oracles, +whose achievements proclaimed him something more than +human.</p> + +<p>But whatever may have been the monarch's feelings, +he so far suppressed them as to receive his guest with +princely courtesy, and to express his satisfaction at personally +seeing him in his capital. Cortés responded by +the most profound expressions of respect, while he made +ample acknowledgments for the substantial proofs which +the emperor had given the Spaniards of his munificence. +He then hung round Montezuma's neck a sparkling chain +of colored crystal, accompanying this with a movement as +if to embrace him, when he was restrained by the two +Aztec lords, shocked at the menaced profanation of the +sacred person of their master. After the interchange of +these civilities, Montezuma appointed his brother to conduct + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +the Spaniards to their residence in the capital, and, +again entering his litter, was borne off amidst prostrate +crowds in the same state in which he had come. The +Spaniards quickly followed, and, with colors flying and +music playing, soon made their entrance into the southern +quarter of Tenochtitlan.</p> + +<p>Here, again, they found fresh cause for admiration in +the grandeur of the city and the superior style of its +architecture. The dwellings of the poorer class were, +indeed, chiefly of reeds and mud. But the great avenue +through which they were now marching was lined with +the houses of the nobles, who were encouraged by the +emperor to make the capital their residence. They were +built of a red porous stone drawn from quarries in the +neighborhood, and, though they rarely rose to a second +story, often covered a large space of ground. The flat +roofs, <i>azoteas</i>, were protected by stone parapets, so that +every house was a fortress. Sometimes these roofs resembled +parterres of flowers, so thickly were they covered +with them, but more frequently these were cultivated in +broad terraced gardens, laid out between the edifices. +Occasionally a great square or market place intervened, +surrounded by its porticoes of stone and stucco; or a +pyramidal temple reared its colossal bulk, crowned with +its tapering sanctuaries, and altars blazing with inextinguishable +fires. The great street facing the southern +causeway, unlike most others in the place, was wide, and +extended some miles in nearly a straight line, as before +noticed, through the center of the city. A spectator +standing at one end of it, as his eye ranged along the deep + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +vista of temples, terraces, and gardens, might clearly discern +the other, with the blue mountains in the distance, +which, in the transparent atmosphere of the table-land, +seemed almost in contact with the buildings.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0110-illus.jpg" id="p0110-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0110-illus.jpg" width="200" height="203" alt="Cortés's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Hernando Cortés.</p> +</div> +<p>But what most impressed the Spaniards was the throngs +of people who swarmed through the streets and on the +canals, filling every doorway and window and clustering +on the roofs of the buildings. "I well remember the +spectacle," exclaims Bernal Diaz; "it seems now, after so +many years, as present to my mind +as if it were but yesterday." But +what must have been the sensations +of the Aztecs themselves, as they +looked on the portentous pageant! +as they heard, now +for the first time, the well-cemented +pavement ring under +the iron tramp of the +horses,—the strange animals +which fear had clothed in +such supernatural terrors: as +they gazed on the children of +the East, revealing their celestial origin in their fair complexions; +saw the bright falchions and bonnets of steel, a +metal to them unknown, glancing like meteors in the sun, +while sounds of unearthly music—at least, such as their +rude instruments had never wakened—floated in the air?</p> + +<p>As they passed down the spacious street, the troops +repeatedly traversed bridges suspended above canals, +along which they saw the Indian barks gliding swiftly + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +with their little cargoes of fruits and vegetables for the +markets of Tenochtitlan. At length they halted before a +broad area near the center of the city, where rose the +huge pyramidal pile dedicated to the patron war god of +the Aztecs, second only, in size as well as sanctity, to the +temple of Cholula, and covering the same ground now in +part occupied by the great cathedral of Mexico.</p> + +<p>Facing the western gate of the inclosure of the temple, +stood a low range of stone buildings, spreading over a +wide extent of ground, the palace of Axayacatl, Montezuma's +father, built by that monarch about fifty years +before. It was appropriated as the barracks of the Spaniards. +The emperor himself was in the courtyard, waiting +to receive them. Approaching Cortés, he took from +a vase of flowers, borne by one of his slaves, a massy +collar, in which the shell of a species of crawfish, much +prized by the Indians, was set in gold and connected by +heavy links of the same metal. From this chain depended +eight ornaments, also of gold, made in resemblance of the +same shellfish, a span in length each, and of delicate +workmanship; for the Aztec goldsmiths were confessed +to have shown skill in their craft not inferior to their +brethren of Europe. Montezuma, as he hung the gorgeous +collar round the general's neck, said, "This palace belongs +to you, Malinche" (the epithet by which he always +addressed him), "and your brethren. Rest after your +fatigues, for you have much need to do so, and in a little +while I will visit you again." So saying, he withdrew +with his attendants, evincing in this act a delicate consideration +not to have been expected in a barbarian.</p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE SKYLARK.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Bird of the wilderness,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Blithesome and cumberless,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Emblem of happiness,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Blest is thy dwelling place:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh to abide in the desert with thee!<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Wild is thy lay, and loud,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Far in the downy cloud:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love gives it energy, love gave it birth.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where, on thy dewy wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where art thou journeying?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">O'er fell and fountain sheen,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er moor and mountain green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the red streamer that heralds the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Over the cloudlet dim,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Over the rainbow's rim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Musical cherub, soar, singing, away!<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Then, when the gloaming comes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Low in the heather blooms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Emblem of happiness,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Blest is thy dwelling place:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh to abide in the desert with thee!<br /></span> +<div class="signature2">—<i>James Hogg.</i></div> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE MYSTERY OF THE TADPOLE.</h2> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0113-illus.jpg" id="p0113-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0113-illus.jpg" width="200" height="225" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">George Henry Lewes.</p> +</div> +<p>A blade of grass is a mystery, if men would but distill +it out. When my learned friend Dr. Syntax, glancing +round my workroom, observed a vase full of tadpoles, he +asked me in a tone of sniffling superiority: +"Do you really mean to say +you find any interest in those little +beasts?"</p> + +<p>"As much as you find in +books," I answered, with some +energy.</p> + +<p>"H'm," grunted Syntax.</p> + +<p>Very absurd isn't it? But +we all have our hobbies. I can +pass a bookstall on which I perceive +that the ignorance of the +bookseller permits him to exhibit +now and then rare editions of +valuable books at almost no price at all. The sight gives me +no thrill—it does not even cause me to slacken my pace.</p> + +<p>But I can't so easily pass a pond in which I see a shoal +of tadpoles swimming about, as ignorant of their own +value as the bookseller is of his books. I may walk on, +but the sight has sent a slight electric shock through me.</p> + +<p>"Why, sir," I said to my learned friend, "there is +more to me in the <i>tail</i> of one of those tadpoles than in all +the musty old volumes you so much delight to pick up. +But I won't thrash your dog unless you thrash mine."</p> + +<p>"Why, what on earth can you do with the tail?"</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0114-illus.jpg" id="p0114-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0114-illus.jpg" width="200" height="158" alt="Several tadpoles" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Tadpoles in different Stages of Development.</p> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> + "Do with it? Study it, experiment on it, put it under +the microscope, and day by day watch the growth of its +various parts. At first it is little more than a mass of +cells. Then I notice that these cells begin to take a +definite shape, and blood vessels +appear in them. Then the muscles +begin to appear."</p> + +<p>"Very interesting, I dare +say."</p> + +<p>"You don't seem to think +so, by your tone. But look in +this vase: here are several tadpoles +with the most apologetic +of tails—mere stumps, in fact. +I cut them off nine days ago."</p> + +<p>"Will they grow again?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly; for, although the frog dispenses with a +tail almost as soon as he reaches the frog form, the +tadpole needs his tail to swim with; and when by +any accident he loses it, Nature kindly supplies him +with another."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," added Syntax, glad to feel himself once +more among things of which he knew something; "just +like the lobster or the crab, you know. They tear off +their legs and arms in a most reckless way, and yet they +always grow new ones again."</p> + +<p>"Would you like to know what has become of the +tails which I cut off from these fellows?"</p> + +<p>"Aren't they dead?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all. Alive and kicking."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> + "Alive after nine days? Oh! oh!"</p> + +<p>"Here they are, in this glass. It is exactly nine days +since they were cut off, and I have been watching them +daily under the microscope. I assure you that I have +seen them <i>grow</i>, not <i>larger</i>, indeed, but develop more and +more, muscle fibers appearing each day where before there +were none at all."</p> + +<p>"Come, now, you are trying to see what a fool you can +make of me."</p> + +<p>"I am perfectly serious. The discovery is none of +mine. It was made by M. Vulpian in Paris. He says +that the tails live many days—as many as eighteen in +one instance; but I have never kept mine alive more +than eleven. He says, moreover, that they not only +grow, as I have said, but that they seem to possess feeling, +for they twist about with a rapid swimming movement +when irritated."</p> + +<p>"Well, but I say, how <i>could</i> they live when separated +from the body? Our arms or legs don't live; the lobster's +legs don't live."</p> + +<p>"Quite true. But in those cases we have limbs of a +complex organization, which require a complex apparatus +in order to sustain their life. They must have blood, the +blood must circulate."</p> + +<p>"Stop, stop! I don't want to understand why our +arms can't live apart from our bodies. They don't. The +fact is enough for me. I want to know why the tail of a +tadpole can live apart from the body."</p> + +<p>"It <i>can</i>. Is not the fact enough for you in that case +also? Well, I was going to tell you the reason. The tail + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +will live apart from the body only so long as it retains its +early immature form. If you cut it off from a tadpole +which is old enough to have lost its external gills a week +or more, the tail will <i>not</i> live more than three or four +days. And every tail will die as soon as it reaches the +point in its development which requires the circulation of +the blood as a necessary condition."</p> + +<p>"But where does it get food?"</p> + +<p>"That is more than I can say. I don't know that it +wants food. You know that reptiles can live without +food a wonderful length of time."</p> + +<p>"Really, I begin to think there is more in these little +beasts than I ever dreamed of. But it must take a great +deal of study to get at these facts."</p> + +<p>"Not more than to get at any of the other open secrets +of Nature. But, since you are interested, look at these +tails as the tadpoles come bobbing against the side of +the glass. Do you see how they are covered with little +white spots?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Look closer. All over the tail there are tiny, cotton-like +spots. Take a lens, if your eye isn't sharp enough. +There, now you see them."</p> + +<p>"Yes; I see a sort of <i>fluff</i> scattered about."</p> + +<p>"That fluff is an immense colony of parasites. Let us +place the tadpole under the microscope, and you will see +each spot turn out to be a multitude of elegant and active +animals, having bodies not unlike a crystal goblet supported +on an extremely long and flexible stem, and +having round their rim or mouth a range of long, delicate + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +hairs, the motion of which gives a wheel-like aspect, +and makes an eddy in the water which brings food to the +animal."</p> + +<p>"This is really interesting! How active they are! +How they shrink up, and then, unwinding their twisted +stems, expand again! What's the name of this thing?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Vorticella</i>. It may be found growing on water fleas, +plants, decayed wood, or these tadpoles. People who +study the animalcules are very fond of this Vorticella."</p> + +<p>"Well, I never could have believed such a patch of +fluff could turn out a sight like this: I could watch it +for an hour. But what are those small yellowish things +sticking on the side of these parasites?"</p> + +<p>"Those, my dear Syntax, are also parasites."</p> + +<p>"What, parasites living on parasites?"</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0117-illus.jpg" id="p0117-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0117-illus.jpg" width="200" height="90" alt="Now a frog" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">The Tadpole's last Stage.</p> +</div> +<p>"Why not? Nature is economical. Don't you live on +beef, and mutton, and fish? Don't these beeves, muttons, +and fishes live on vegetables +and animals? +Don't the vegetables +and animals live on +other organic matters? +Eat and be eaten, is one +law: live and let live, +is another."</p> + +<p>The learned Doctor remained thoughtful; then he +screwed up one side of his face into the most frightful +wrinkles, while with the eye of the other he resumed his +examination of the Vorticella.</p> + +<div class="signature">—<i>George Henry Lewes.</i></div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter bord" style="width: 500px;"> + <a name="p0118-illus.jpg" id="p0118-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0118-illus.jpg" width="500" height="304" alt="Lion family" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">From the Painting by Rosa Bonheur. Engraved by Horace Baker.<br /> + The Lions.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE GLOVE AND THE LIONS.</h2> + +<div class="figright2" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0119-illus.jpg" id="p0119-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0119-illus.jpg" width="200" height="222" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Leigh Hunt.</p> +</div> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">King Francis was a hearty king, and loved a royal sport,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one day, as his lions fought, sat looking on the court;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The nobles filled the benches, with the ladies in their pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And 'mongst them sat the Count de Lorge, with one for whom he sighed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And truly 'twas a gallant thing to see that crowning show,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Valor and love, and a king above, and the royal beasts below.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ramped and roared the lions, with horrid laughing jaws;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They bit, they glared, gave blows like beams, a wind went with their paws;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With wallowing might and stifled roar, they rolled on one another,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till all the pit, with sand and mane, was in a thunderous smother;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bloody foam above the bars came whisking through the air:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said Francis, then, "Faith, gentlemen, we're better here than there."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">De Lorge's love o'erheard the king, a beauteous, lively dame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With smiling lips and sharp bright eyes, which always seemed the same;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She thought, "The Count, my lover, is brave as brave can be,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> + <span class="i0">He surely would do wondrous things to show his love of me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">King, ladies, lovers, all look on; the occasion is divine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll drop my glove, to prove his love; great glory will be mine."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She dropped her glove, to prove his love; then looked at him, and smiled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He bowed, and in a moment leaped among the lions wild:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The leap was quick, return was quick, he soon regained the place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the lady's face.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"In faith," cried Francis, "rightly done!" and he rose from where he sat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"No love," quoth he, "but vanity sets love a task like that."<br /></span> +<div class="signature2">—<i>Leigh Hunt.</i></div> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<h2>TRUE GROWTH.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">It is not growing like a tree<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In bulk, doth make man better be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or standing like an oak, three hundred year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A lily of a day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is fairer far in May,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Although it fall and die that night—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It was the plant and flower of Light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In small proportions we just beauties see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in short measures life may perfect be.<br /></span> +<div class="signature2">—<i>Ben Jonson.</i></div> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE SHIPWRECK.</h2> + +<hr class="hr2" /> +<h3>I.</h3> + +<p>Having made up my mind to go down to Yarmouth, +I went round to the coach office and took the box seat on +the mail. In the evening I started, +by that conveyance, down the road.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0121-illus.jpg" id="p0121-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0121-illus.jpg" width="200" height="211" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Charles Dickens.</p> +</div> +<p>"Don't you think that a very +remarkable sky?" I asked the +coachman, in the first stage +out of London. "I don't +remember to have seen one +like it."</p> + +<p>"Nor I—not equal to it," +he replied. "That's wind, +sir; there'll be mischief +done at sea, I expect before +long."</p> + +<p>It was a murky confusion—here +and there blotted with a color like the color of +the smoke from damp fuel—of flying clouds tossed up +into most remarkable heaps, suggesting greater heights +in the clouds than there were depths below them to the +bottom of the deepest hollows in the earth, through which +the wild moon seemed to plunge headlong, as if, in a +dread disturbance of the laws of nature, she had lost her +way and were frightened. There had been wind all day; +and it was rising then, with an extraordinary great sound. +In another hour it had much increased, and the sky was +more overcast, and it blew harder.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> + But as the night advanced, the clouds closing in and +densely overspreading the whole sky, then very dark, it +came on to blow harder and harder. It still increased, +until our horses could scarcely face the wind. Many +times in the dark part of the night (it was then late in +September, when the nights were not short) the leaders +turned about, or came to a dead stop; and we were often +in apprehension that the coach would be blown over.</p> + +<p>When the day broke, it blew harder and harder. I +had been in Yarmouth when the seamen said it blew +great guns, but I had never known the like of this, or +anything approaching to it. We came to Ipswich—very +late, having had to fight every inch of ground since we +were ten miles out of London; and found a cluster of +people in the market place, who had risen from their beds +in the night, fearful of falling chimneys. Some of these, +congregating about the innyard while we changed horses, +told us of great sheets of lead having been ripped off a +high church tower and flung into a by-street, which they +then blocked up. Others had to tell of country people, +coming in from neighboring villages, who had seen great +trees lying torn out of the earth, and whole ricks scattered +about the roads and fields. Still there was no +abatement in the storm, but it blew harder.</p> + +<p>As we struggled on, nearer and nearer to the sea, +from which the mighty wind was blowing dead on shore, +its force became more and more terrific. Long before we +saw the sea, its spray was on our lips, and showered salt +rain upon us. The water was out, over miles and miles +of the flat country adjacent to Yarmouth; and every + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +sheet and puddle lashed its banks, and had its stress of +little breakers setting heavily towards us. When we +came within sight of the sea, the waves on the horizon, +caught at intervals above the rolling abyss, were like +glimpses of another shore with towers and buildings. +When at last we got into the town, the people came +out to their doors, all aslant, and with streaming hair, +making a wonder of the mail that had come through such +a night.</p> + +<p>I put up at the old inn, and went down to look at the +sea, staggering along the street, which was strewn with +sand and seaweed, and with flying blotches of sea foam; +afraid of falling slates and tiles; and holding by people +I met at angry corners. Coming near the beach, I saw, +not only the boatmen, but half the people of the town, +lurking behind buildings; some now and then braving the +fury of the storm to look away to sea, and blown sheer +out of their course in trying to get zigzag back.</p> + +<p>Joining these groups, I found bewailing women whose +husbands were away in herring or oyster boats, which +there was too much reason to think might have foundered +before they could run in anywhere for safety. Grizzled +old sailors were among the people, shaking their heads +as they looked from water to sky, and muttering to +one another; shipowners excited and uneasy; children +huddling together, and peering into older faces; even +stout mariners disturbed and anxious, leveling their +glasses at the sea from behind places of shelter, as if they +were surveying an enemy.</p> + +<p>The tremendous sea itself, when I could find sufficient + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +pause to look at it, in the agitation of the blinding +wind, the flying stones and sand, and the awful noise, +confounded me. As the high watery walls came rolling +in, and, at their highest, tumbled into surf, they looked +as if the least would engulf the town. As the receding +wave swept back with a hoarse roar, it seemed to scoop +out caves in the beach, as if its purpose were to undermine +the earth. When some white-headed billows thundered +on, and dashed themselves to pieces before they +reached the land, every fragment of the late whole +seemed possessed by the full might of its wrath, rushing +to be gathered to the composition of another monster. +Undulating hills were changed to valleys, undulating +valleys (with a storm bird sometimes skimming through +them) were lifted up to hills; masses of water shivered +and shook the beach with a booming sound; every shape +tumultuously rolled on, as soon as made, to change its +shape and place, and beat another shape and place +away; the ideal shore on the horizon, with its towers +and buildings, rose and fell; the clouds flew fast and +thick; I seemed to see a rending and upheaving of all +nature.</p> + +<p>Not finding my old friend, Ham, among the people +whom this memorable wind—for it is still remembered +down there as the greatest ever known to blow upon +that coast—had brought together, I made my way to +his house. It was shut; and as no one answered to my +knocking, I went by back ways and by-lanes to the yard +where he worked. I learned there that he had gone to +Lowestoft, to meet some sudden exigency of ship repairing + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +in which his skill was required; but that he would be +back to-morrow morning in good time.</p> + +<p>I went back to the inn; and when I had washed +and dressed, and tried to sleep, but in vain, it was five +o'clock in the afternoon. I had not sat five minutes by +the coffee-room fire, when the waiter, coming to stir it as +an excuse for talking, told me that two colliers had gone +down, with all hands, a few miles away; and that some +other ships had been seen laboring hard in the Roads, +and trying in great distress to keep off shore. "Mercy +on them, and on all poor sailors," said he, "if we had +another night like the last!"</p> + +<p>I was very much depressed in spirits, very solitary, +and felt an uneasiness in Ham's not being there, disproportionate +to the occasion. I was seriously affected, +without knowing how much, by late events, and my exposure +to the fierce wind had confused me. There was +that jumble in my thoughts and recollections that I had +lost the clear arrangement of time and distance. Thus, +if I had gone out into the town, I should not have been +surprised, I think, to encounter some one who I knew +must be then in London. So to speak, there was in these +respects a curious inattention in my mind. Yet it was +busy, too, with all the remembrances the place naturally +awakened, and they were particularly distinct and vivid.</p> + +<p>In this state, the waiter's dismal intelligence about +the ships immediately connected itself, without any effort +of my volition, with my uneasiness about Ham. I was +persuaded that possibly he would attempt to return from +Lowestoft by sea, and be lost. This grew so strong with + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +me, that I resolved to go back to the yard before I took +my dinner, and ask the boat builder if he thought his attempting +to return by sea at all likely. If he gave me +the least reason to think so, I would go over to Lowestoft +and prevent it by bringing him with me.</p> + +<p>I hastily ordered my dinner, and went back to the +yard. I was none too soon; for the boat builder, with a +lantern in his hand, was locking the yard gate. He quite +laughed when I asked him the question, and said there +was no fear; no man in his senses, or out of them, would +put off in such a gale of wind, least of all Ham Peggotty, +who had been born to seafaring.</p> + +<p>I went back to the inn. The howl and roar, the +rattling of the doors and windows, the rumbling in the +chimneys, the apparent rocking of the very house that +sheltered me, and the prodigious tumult of the sea, were +more fearful than in the morning. But there was now a +great darkness besides; and that invested the storm with +new terrors, real and fanciful.</p> + +<p>I could not eat, I could not sit still, I could not +continue steadfast in anything. Something within me, +faintly answering to the storm without, tossed up the +depths of my memory and made a tumult in them. Yet, +in all the hurry of my thoughts, wild running with thundering +sea, the storm and my uneasiness regarding Ham +were always in the foreground.</p> + +<p>My dinner went away almost untasted, and I tried to +refresh myself with a glass or two of wine. In vain. I +fell into a dull slumber before the fire, without losing my +consciousness either of the uproar out of doors or of the + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +place in which I was. Both became overshadowed by a +new undefinable horror; and when I awoke—or rather +when I shook off the lethargy that bound me in my chair—my +whole frame thrilled with objectless and unintelligible +fear.</p> + +<p>I walked to and fro, tried to read an old gazetteer, +listened to the awful noises; looked at faces, scenes, and +figures in the fire. At length the steady ticking of the +undisturbed clock on the wall tormented me to that degree +that I resolved to go to bed.</p> + +<p>It was reassuring, on such a night, to be told that some +of the inn servants had agreed together to sit up until +morning. I went to bed, exceedingly weary and heavy; +but on my lying down all such sensations vanished, as if +by magic, and I was broad awake, with every sense refined.</p> + +<p>For hours I lay there, listening to the wind and water; +imagining now that I heard shrieks out at sea, now +that I distinctly heard the firing of signal guns, and now +the fall of houses in the town. I got up several times and +looked out, but could see nothing except the reflection in +the window panes of the faint candle I had left burning, +and of my own haggard face looking in at me from the +black void.</p> + +<p>At length my restlessness attained to such a pitch, +that I hurried on my clothes, and went downstairs. In +the large kitchen, where I dimly saw bacon and ropes of +onions hanging from the beams, the watchers were clustered +together, in various attitudes, about a table, purposely +moved away from the great chimney, and brought + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +near the door. A pretty girl who had her ears stopped +with her apron, and her eyes upon the door, screamed +when I appeared, supposing me to be a spirit; but the +others had more presence of mind, and were glad of an +addition to their company. One man, referring to the +topic they had been discussing, asked me whether I +thought the souls of the collier crews who had gone down +were out in the storm?</p> + +<p>I remained there, I dare say two hours. There was +a dark gloom in my solitary chamber when I at length +returned to it; but I was tired now, and, getting into +bed again, fell off a tower and down a precipice into the +depths of sleep. I have an impression that for a long +time, though I dreamed of being elsewhere and in a +variety of scenes, it was always blowing in my dream. +At length I lost that feeble hold upon reality, and was +engaged with two dear friends, but who they were I don't +know, at the siege of some town in a roar of cannonading.</p> + + +<hr class="hr2" /> +<h3>II.</h3> + +<p>The thunder of the cannon was so loud and incessant, +that I could not hear something I much desired to +hear, until I made a great exertion, and awoke. It was +broad day—eight or nine o'clock; the storm raging, in +lieu of the batteries; and some one knocking and calling +at my door.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" I cried.</p> + +<p>"A wreck! close by!"</p> + +<p>I sprang out of bed, and asked what wreck?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter bord" style="width: 500px;"> + <a name="p0129-illus.jpg" id="p0129-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0129-illus.jpg" width="500" height="334" alt="Escaping from a wreck at sea" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">From the Painting by A. Marlon. Carbon by Braun, Clement & Co. + Engraved by Walter Aikman.<br />The Shipwreck.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> + "A schooner, from Spain or Portugal, laden with fruit +and wine. Make haste, sir, if you want to see her! Its +thought she'll go to pieces every moment."</p> + +<p>The excited voice went clamoring along the staircase; +and I wrapped myself in my clothes as quickly as I could, +and ran into the street. Numbers of people were there +before us, all running in one direction, to the beach. I +ran the same way, outstripping a good many, and soon +came facing the wild sea.</p> + +<p>The wind might by this time have lulled a little, +though not more sensibly than if the cannonading I had +dreamed of had been diminished by the silencing of half +a dozen guns out of hundreds. But the sea, having upon +it the additional agitation of the whole night, was infinitely +more terrific than when I had seen it last. Every +appearance it had then presented bore the expression of +being <i>swelled</i>; and the height to which the breakers rose, +and, looking over one another, bore one another down, +and rolled in, in interminable hosts, was most appalling.</p> + +<p>In the difficulty of hearing anything but wind and +waves, and in the crowd, and the unspeakable confusion, +and my first breathless attempts to stand against the +weather, I was so confused that I looked out to sea for +the wreck, and saw nothing but the foaming heads of the +great waves. A half-dressed boatman standing next me +pointed with his bare arm (a tattooed arrow on it, pointing +in the same direction) to the left. Then, O great Heaven, +I saw it, close in upon us!</p> + +<p>One mast was broken short off, six or eight feet from +the deck, and lay over the side, entangled in a maze + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +of sail and rigging; and all that ruin, as the ship rolled +and beat,—which she did without a moment's pause, and +with a violence quite inconceivable,—beat the side as if it +would stave it in. Some efforts were even then being +made to cut this portion of the wreck away; for as the +ship, which was broadside on, turned towards us in her +rolling, I plainly descried her people at work with +axes, especially one active figure, with long curling hair, +conspicuous among the rest. But a great cry, which was +audible even above the wind and water, rose from the +shore at this moment: the sea, sweeping over the rolling +wreck, made a clean breach, and carried men, spars, casks, +planks, bulwarks, heaps of such toys, into the boiling +surge.</p> + +<p>The second mast was yet standing, with the rags of +a rent sail, and a wild confusion of broken cordage, flapping +to and fro. The ship had struck once, the same +boatman hoarsely said in my ear, and then lifted in and +struck again. I understood him to add that she was +parting amidships, and I could readily suppose so, for the +rolling and beating were too tremendous for any human +work to suffer long. As he spoke, there was another +great cry of pity from the beach: four men arose with +the wreck out of the deep, clinging to the rigging of the +remaining mast; uppermost, the active figure with the +curling hair.</p> + +<p>There was a bell on board; and as the ship rolled +and dashed, like a desperate creature driven mad, now +showing us the whole sweep of her deck, as she turned on +her beam ends towards the shore, now nothing but her + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +keel, as she sprung wildly over and turned towards the +sea, the bell rang; and its sound, the knell of those +unhappy men, was borne towards us on the wind. Again +we lost her, and again she rose. Two men were gone. +The agony on shore increased. Men groaned and clasped +their hands; women shrieked, and turned away their faces. +Some ran wildly up and down along the beach, crying for +help where no help could be. I found myself one of these, +frantically imploring a knot of sailors whom I knew, not +to let those two lost creatures perish before our eyes.</p> + +<p>They were making out to me, in an agitated way, +that the lifeboat had been bravely manned an hour ago, +and could do nothing; and that as no man would be so +desperate as to attempt to wade off with a rope, and establish +a communication with the shore, there was nothing +left to try; when I noticed that some new sensation moved +the people on the beach, and saw them part, and Ham come +breaking through them to the front.</p> + +<p>I ran to him, as well as I know, to repeat my appeal +for help. But distracted though I was by a sight so new +to me and terrible, the determination in his face, and his +look out to sea, awoke me to a knowledge of his danger. +I held him back with both arms, and implored the men +with whom I had been speaking not to listen to him, not +to do murder, not to let him stir from off that sand.</p> + +<p>Another cry arose from the shore; and, looking +towards the wreck, we saw the cruel sail, with blow on +blow, beat off the lower of the two men, and fly up in triumph +round the active figure left alone upon the mast.</p> + +<p>Against such a sight, and against such determination + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +as that of the calmly desperate man who was already +accustomed to lead half the people present, I might as +hopefully have intreated the wind. "Mas'r Davy," he +said cheerily, grasping me by both hands, "if my time is +come, 'tis come. If't an't, I'll bide it. Lord above bless +you, and bless all! Mates, make me ready! I'm a going +off!"</p> + +<p>I was swept away, but not unkindly, to some distance, +where the people around me made me stay; urging, as +I confusedly perceived, that he was bent on going, with +help or without, and that I should endanger the precautions +for his safety by troubling those with whom they +rested. I don't know what I answered, or what they rejoined, +but I saw hurry on the beach, and men running +with ropes from a capstan that was there, and penetrating +into a circle of figures that hid him from me. Then I saw +him standing alone, in a seaman's frock and trowsers, a rope +in his hand or slung to his wrist, another round his body; +and several of the best men holding, at a little distance, to +the latter, which he laid out himself, slack upon the shore, +at his feet.</p> + +<p>The wreck, even to my unpracticed eye, was breaking +up. I saw that she was parting in the middle, and that +the life of the solitary man upon the mast hung by a +thread. Still he clung to it.</p> + +<p>Ham watched the sea, standing alone, with the silence +of suspended breath behind him, and the storm before, +until there was a great retiring wave, when, with a backward +glance at those who held the rope, which was +made fast round his body, he dashed in after it, and in a + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +moment was buffeting with the water—rising with the +hills, falling with valleys, lost beneath the foam; then +drawn again to land. They hauled in hastily.</p> + +<p>He was hurt. I saw blood on his face from where +I stood; but he took no thought of that. He seemed +hurriedly to give them some directions for leaving him +more free, or so I judged from the motion of his arm—and +was gone, as before.</p> + +<p>And now he made for the wreck—rising with the +hills, falling with the valleys, lost beneath the rugged +foam, borne in towards the shore, borne on towards the +ship, striving hard and valiantly. The distance was +nothing, but the power of the sea and wind made the +strife deadly.</p> + +<p>At length he neared the wreck. He was so near +that with one more of his vigorous strokes he would be +clinging to it,—when a high, green, vast hillside of water, +moving on shoreward from beyond the ship, he seemed to +leap up into it with a mighty bound, and the ship was +gone!</p> + +<p>Some eddying fragments I saw in the sea, as if a mere +cask had been broken, in running to the spot where +they were hauling in. Consternation was in every face. +They drew him to my very feet—insensible, dead. He +was carried to the nearest house; and, no one preventing +me now, I remained near him, busy, while every means of +restoration was tried; but he had been beaten to death +by the great wave, and his generous heart was stilled for +ever.</p> + +<div class="signature">—<i>From "David Copperfield," by Charles Dickens.</i></div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE HAPPY VALLEY.</h2> + +<p>The place which the wisdom or policy of antiquity had +destined for the residence of the Abyssinian princes was +a spacious valley in the kingdom of Amhara, +surrounded on every side by mountains, +of which the summits overhang the +middle part. The only passage by +which it could be entered was +a cavern that passed under a +rock, of which it has been long +disputed whether it was the +work of Nature or of human +industry.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0135-illus.jpg" id="p0135-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0135-illus.jpg" width="200" height="199" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Dr. Samuel Johnson.</p> +</div> +<p>The outlet of the cavern was +concealed by a thick wood, and +the mouth, which opened into +the valley, was closed with gates of iron forged by the +artificers of ancient days, so massy that no man could, +without the help of engines, open or shut them.</p> + +<p>From the mountains, on every side, rivulets descended, +that filled all the valley with verdure and fertility, and +formed a lake in the middle, inhabited by fish of every +species, and frequented by every fowl which Nature has +taught to dip the wing in water. This lake discharged +its superfluities by a stream, which entered a dark cleft of +the mountain on the northern side, and fell, with dreadful +noise, from precipice to precipice, till it was heard no +more.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> + The sides of the mountains were covered with trees. +The banks of the brooks were diversified with flowers. +Every blast shook spices from the rocks, and every month +dropped fruits upon the ground. All animals that bite +the grass or browse the shrub, whether wild or tame, +wandered in this extensive circuit, secured from beasts of +prey by the mountains which confined them.</p> + +<p>On one part were flocks and herds feeding in the pastures; +on another, all the beasts of chase frisking in the +lawns; the sprightly kid was bounding on the rocks, the +subtle monkey frolicking in the trees, and the solemn +elephant reposing in the shade. All the diversities of the +world were brought together; the blessings of nature +were collected, and its evils extracted and excluded.</p> + +<p>The valley, wide and fruitful, supplied its inhabitants +with the necessaries of life; and all delights and superfluities +were added at the annual visit which the Emperor +paid his children, when the iron gate was opened to the +sound of music, and during eight days every one that +resided in the valley was required to propose whatever +might contribute to make seclusion pleasant, to fill up the +vacancies of attention, and lessen the tediousness of the +time.</p> + +<p>Every desire was immediately granted. All the artificers +of pleasure were called to gladden the festivity; the +musicians exerted the power of harmony, and the dancers +showed their activity before the princes, in hope that they +should pass their lives in this blissful captivity, to which +those only were admitted whose performance was thought +capable of adding novelty to luxury.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> + Such was the appearance of security and delight which +this retirement afforded, that they to whom it was +new always desired that it might be perpetual; and as +those on whom the iron gate had once closed were never +suffered to return, the effect of long experience could not +be known. Thus every year produced new schemes of +delight and new competitors for imprisonment.</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>Dr. Samuel Johnson's "Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia," +from which this selection is taken, was first published in +1759. "The late Mr. Strahan, the printer, told me," says +Boswell, "that Johnson wrote it, so that with the profits +he might defray the expenses of his mother's funeral, and +pay some little debts which she had left. He told Sir +Joshua Reynolds that he composed it in the evenings of +one week, sent it to the press in portions as it was written, +and had never since read it over. None of his writings +have been so extensively diffused over Europe, for it has +been translated into most, if not all, of the modern languages. +This tale, with all the charms of oriental imagery, +and all the force and beauty of which the English +language is capable, leads us through the most important +scenes of human life, and shows us that this stage of our +being is full of 'vanity and vexation of spirit.'"</p> + +<p>The peculiarities of style which distinguish all of Johnson's +writings are well illustrated in this story. Notice +the stately flow of high-sounding words; the dignified +formality of many of the descriptive passages; and the +richness and perfection which characterize the production +as a whole.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE PASS OF KILLIECRANKIE.</h2> + +<p>John Græme of Claverhouse, whose title of Viscount +Dundee had been given him in reward for his cruelties to +the Western Covenanters, was the instigator and leader +of a revolt of the Highland clans against the government +of William III. in Scotland. General Mackay, with his +loyal Scotch regiments, was sent out to suppress the uprising. +But as they climbed the pass of Killiecrankie, on +the 27th of July, 1689, Dundee charged them at the head +of three thousand clansmen, and swept them in headlong +rout down the glen. His death in the moment of victory +broke, however, the only bond which held the Highlanders +together, and in a few weeks the host which had +spread terror through the Lowlands melted helplessly +away.</p> + +<p>The Græmes, or Grahams, were among the most noted +of Scottish families, and included some of the most distinguished +men of the country. Among them were Sir +John the Græme, the faithful aid of Sir William Wallace, +who fell in the battle of Falkirk, 1298, and the celebrated +Marquis of Montrose, who died in 1650, and whose exploits +are immortalized in Scott's "Legend of Montrose."</p> + +<p>In the following stirring verses from "The Lays of +the Scottish Cavaliers," by W. E. Aytoun, the fight at +Killiecrankie is described, presumably, by one of the +adherents of Dundee. The title of the poem in its complete +form is "The Burial March of Dundee." Our selection +includes only so much as relates to the conflict in +the pass.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> + <span class="i0">On the heights of Killiecrankie<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yester-morn our army lay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slowly rose the mist in columns<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the river's broken way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoarsely roared the swollen torrent,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the pass was wrapt in gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the clansmen rose together<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From their lair amidst the broom.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then we belted on our tartans,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And our bonnets down we drew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we felt our broadswords' edges,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And we proved them to be true;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we prayed the prayer of soldiers,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And we cried the gathering cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we clasped the hands of kinsmen,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And we swore to do or die!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then our leader rode before us<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On his war horse black as night—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well the Cameronian rebels<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Knew that charger in the fight!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a cry of exultation<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From the bearded warriors rose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For we loved the house of Claver'se,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And we thought of good Montrose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he raised his hand for silence—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Soldiers! I have sworn a vow:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere the evening star shall glisten<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On Schehallion's lofty brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Either we shall rest in triumph,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or another of the Græmes<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Shall have died in battle harness<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For his country and King James!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think upon the Royal Martyr—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Think of what his race endure—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think of him whom butchers murdered<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On the field of Magus Muir:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By his sacred blood I charge ye,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By the ruined hearth and shrine—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the blighted hopes of Scotland,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By your injuries and mine—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strike this day as if the anvil<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lay beneath your blows the while,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be they Covenanting traitors,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or the brood of false Argyle!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strike! and drive the trembling rebels<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Backwards o'er the stormy Forth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let them tell their pale Convention<br /></span> +<span class="i1">How they fared within the North.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let them tell that Highland honor<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is not to be bought or sold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That we scorn their prince's anger<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As we loathe his foreign gold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strike! and when the fight is over,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If ye look in vain for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the dead are lying thickest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Search for him that was Dundee!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loudly then the hills reëchoed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With our answer to his call,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a deeper echo sounded<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the bosoms of us all.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> + <span class="i0">For the lands of wide Breadalbane<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Not a man who heard him speak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would that day have left the battle.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Burning eye and flushing cheek<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Told the clansmen's fierce emotion,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And they harder drew their breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For their souls were strong within them,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stronger than the grasp of death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon we heard a challenge trumpet<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sounding in the pass below,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the distant tramp of horses,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the voices of the foe:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down we crouched amid the bracken,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till the Lowland ranks drew near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Panting like the hounds in summer,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When they scent the stately deer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the dark defile emerging,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Next we saw the squadrons come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leslie's foot and Leven's troopers<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Marching to the tuck of drum;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the scattered wood of birches,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O'er the broken ground and heath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wound the long battalion slowly,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till they gained the field beneath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then we bounded from our covert.—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Judge how looked the Saxons then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When they saw the rugged mountain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Start to life with armèd men!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a tempest down the ridges<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Swept the hurricane of steel,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Rose the slogan of Macdonald,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flashed the broadsword of Lochiell!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vainly sped the withering volley<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Mongst the foremost of our band—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On we poured until we met them,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Foot to foot, and hand to hand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Horse and man went down like driftwood<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When the floods are black at Yule,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And their carcasses are whirling<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the Garry's deepest pool.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Horse and man went down before us—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Living foe there tarried none<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the field of Killiecrankie,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When that stubborn fight was done!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the evening star was shining<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On Schehallion's distant head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When we wiped our bloody broadswords,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And returned to count the dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There we found him gashed and gory,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stretched upon the cumbered plain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As he told us where to seek him,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In the thickest of the slain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a smile was on his visage,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For within his dying ear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pealed the joyful note of triumph,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the clansmen's clamorous cheer:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, amidst the battle's thunder,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shot, and steel, and scorching flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the glory of his manhood<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Passed the spirit of the Græme!<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> +<h2>SUMMER RAIN.</h2> + +<p>It is a long time since much rain fell. The ground +is a little dry, the road is a good deal dusty. The garden +bakes. Transplanted trees are thirsty. Wheels are +shrinking and tires are looking dangerous. +Men speculate on the clouds; +they begin to calculate how long it +will be, if no rain falls, before the +potatoes will suffer; the oats, the +grass, the corn—everything! +To be sure, nothing is yet suffering; +but then—</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0143-illus.jpg" id="p0143-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0143-illus.jpg" width="200" height="199" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Henry Ward Beecher.</p> +</div> +<p>Rain, rain, rain! All day, +all night, steady raining. Will +it never stop? The hay is out +and spoiling. The rain washes +the garden. All things have +drunk their fill. The springs revive, the meadows are +wet; the rivers run discolored with soil from every +hill.</p> + +<p>Smoking cattle reek under the sheds. Hens, and +fowl in general, shelter and plume. The sky is leaden. +The clouds are full yet. The long fleece covers the +mountains. The hills are capped in white. The air +is full of moisture.</p> + +<p>The wind roars down the chimney. The birds are +silent. No insects chirp. Closets smell moldy. The +barometer is clogged. We thump it, but it will not get +up. It seems to have an understanding with the weather. + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +The trees drip, shoes are muddy, carriage and wagon are +splashed with dirt. Paths are soft.</p> + +<p>So it is. When it is clear we want rain, and when it +rains we wish it would shine. But after all, how lucky +for grumblers that they are not allowed to meddle with +the weather, and that it is put above their reach. What +a scrambling, selfish, mischief-making time we should +have, if men undertook to parcel out the seasons and the +weather according to their several humors or interests!</p> + +<p>If one will but look for enjoyment, how much there is +in every change of weather. The formation of clouds—the +various signs and signals, the uncertain wheeling and +marching of the fleecy cohorts, the shades of light and +gray in the broken heavens—all have their pleasure to +an observant eye. Then come the wind gust, the distant +dark cloud, the occasional fiery streak shot down through +it, the run and hurry of men whose work may suffer!</p> + +<p>Indeed, sir, your humble servant, even, was stirred +up on the day after Fourth of July. The grass in the +old orchard was not my best. Indeed, we grumbled at +it considerably while it was yet standing. But being cut +and the rain threatening it, one would have thought it +gold by the nimble way in which we tried to save it!</p> + +<p>Blessed be horse rakes! Once, half a dozen men with +half a dozen rakes would have gone whisking up and +down, thrusting out and pulling in the long-handled +rakes with slow and laborious progress. But no more +of that. See friend Turner, mounted on the wheeled +horse rake, riding about as if for pleasure. It is easy +times when <i>men</i> ride and <i>horses</i> rake.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> + Meanwhile, the clouds come bowling noiselessly through +the air, and spit here and there a drop preliminary. Well, +if one thing suffers, another gains! See how the leaves +are washed; the grass drinks, even drinks; the garden +drinks; everything drinks.</p> + +<p>It is our opinion that everything except man is laughing +and rejoicing. Trees shake their leaves with a softer +sound. Rocks look moist and soft, at least where the +moss grows. Even the solitary old pine tree chords +his harp, and sings soft and low melodies with plaintive +undulations!</p> + +<p>A good summer storm is a rain of riches. If gold and +silver rattled down from the clouds, they could hardly +enrich the land so much as soft, long rains. Every drop +is silver going to the mint. The roots are machinery, +and, catching the willing drops, they array them, refine +them, roll them, stamp them, and turn them out coined +berries, apples, grains, and grasses!</p> + +<p>When the heavens send clouds and they bank up the +horizon, be sure they have hidden gold in them. All the +mountains of California are not so rich as are the soft +mines of heaven, that send down treasures upon man +without tasking him, and pour riches upon his field without +spade or pickax—without his search or notice.</p> + +<p>Well, let it rain, then! No matter if the journey is +delayed, the picnic spoiled, the visit adjourned. Blessed +be rain—and rain in summer. And blessed be he who +watereth the earth and enricheth it for man and beast.</p> + +<div class="signature">—<i>Henry Ward Beecher.</i></div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p> +<h2>LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0146-illus.jpg" id="p0146-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0146-illus.jpg" width="200" height="189" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">William Dean Howells.</p> +</div> +<p>It would not be easy to say where or when the first log +cabin was built, but it is safe to say that it was somewhere +in the English colonies of North America, and it +is certain that it became the type +of the settler's house throughout +the whole middle west. It +may be called the American +house, the Western house, the +Ohio house. Hardly any +other house was built for a +hundred years by the men +who were clearing the land +for the stately mansions of +our day. As long as the primeval +forests stood, the log +cabin remained the woodsman's home; and not fifty years +ago, I saw log cabins newly built in one of the richest +and most prosperous regions of Ohio. They were, to be +sure, log cabins of a finer pattern than the first settler +reared. They were of logs handsomely shaped with the +broadax; the joints between the logs were plastered +with mortar; the chimney at the end was of stone; the +roof was shingled, the windows were of glass, and the +door was solid and well hung. But throughout that region +there were many log cabins, mostly sunk to the uses of +stables and corn cribs, of the kind that the borderers built +in the times of the Indian War, from 1750 to 1800. They +were framed of the round logs untouched by the ax except + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +for the notches at the ends where they were fitted into one +another; the chimney was of small sticks stuck together +with mud, and was as frail as a barn swallow's nest; the +walls were stuffed with moss, plastered with clay; the +floor was of rough boards called puncheons, riven from +the block with a heavy knife; the roof was of clapboards +laid loosely on the rafters, and held in place with logs +fastened athwart them.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0147-illus.jpg" id="p0147-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0147-illus.jpg" width="200" height="188" alt="A small home" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Log Cabin.</p> +</div> +<p>There is a delightful account of such a log cabin by +John S. Williams, whose father settled in the woods of +Belmont County in 1800. "Our cabin," he says, "had +been raised, covered, part of +the cracks chinked, and part +of the floor laid, when we +moved in on Christmas day. +There had not been a stick +cut except in building the +cabin, which was so high from +the ground that a bear, wolf, +panther, or any animal less +in size than a cow could enter +without even a squeeze.... +The green ash puncheons had +shrunk so as to leave cracks in the floor and doors from +one to two inches wide. At both the doors we had high, +unsteady, and sometimes icy steps, made by piling the +logs cut out of the walls, for the doors and the window, +if it could be called a window, when perhaps it was the +largest spot in the top, bottom, or sides of the cabin +where the wind could <i>not</i> enter. It was made by sawing + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> +out a log, and placing sticks across and then by pasting +an old newspaper over the hole, and applying hog's lard, +we had a kind of glazing which shed a most beautiful +and mellow light across the cabin when the sun shone on +it. All other light entered at the doors, cracks, and +chimneys. Our cabin was twenty-four by eighteen. The +west end was occupied by two beds, the center of each +side by a door.... On the opposite side of the window, +made of clapboards, supported on pins driven into +the walls, were our shelves. On these shelves my sister +displayed in simple order, a host of pewter plates, and +dishes and spoons, scoured and bright.... Our chimney +occupied most of the east end; with pots and kettles +opposite the window, under the shelves, a gun on hooks +over the north door, four split-bottomed chairs, three three-legged +stools, and a small eight by ten looking-glass sloped +from the wall over a large towel and comb case.... We +got a roof laid over head as soon as possible, but it was +laid of loose clapboards split from a red-oak, and a cat +might have shaken every board in our ceiling.... We +made two kinds of furniture. One kind was of hickory +bark, with the outside shaved off. This we would take off +all around the tree, the size of which would determine the +caliber of our box. Into one end we would place a flat +piece of bark or puncheon, cut round to fit in the bark, +which stood on end the same as when on the tree.... +A much finer article was made of slippery-elm bark, shaved +smooth, with the inside out, bent round and sewed together, +where the end of the hoop or main bark lapped +over.... This was the finest furniture in a lady's dressing + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> +room," and such a cabin and its appointments were +splendor and luxury beside those of the very earliest +pioneers, and many of the latest. The Williamses were +Quakers, and the mother was recently from England; +they were of far gentler breeding and finer tastes than +most of their neighbors, who had been backwoodsmen for +generations.</p> + +<p>When the first settlers broke the silence of the woods +with the stroke of their axes, and hewed out a space for +their cabins and their fields, they inclosed their homes with +a high stockade of logs, for defense against the Indians; +or if they built their cabins outside the wooden walls of +their stronghold, they always expected to flee to it at the +first alarm, and to stand siege within it.</p> + +<p>The Indians had no cannon, and the logs of the stockade +were proof against their rifles; if a breach was made, there +was still the blockhouse left, the citadel of every little fort. +This was heavily built, and pierced with loopholes for the +riflemen within, whose wives ran bullets for them at its +mighty hearth, and who kept the savage foe from its sides +by firing down upon them through the projecting timbers +of its upper story. But in many a fearful siege the Indians +set the roof ablaze with arrows wrapped in burning +tow, and then the fight became desperate indeed. After +the Indian war ended, the stockade was no longer needed, +and the settlers had only the wild beasts to contend with, +and those constant enemies of the poor in all ages and +conditions,—hunger and cold.</p> + +<p>Winter after winter, the Williamses heard the wolves +howling round them in the woods, and this music was + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +familiar to the ears of all the Ohio pioneers, who trusted +their rifles for both the safety and support of their families. +They deadened the trees around them by girdling +them with the ax, and planted the spaces between the +leafless trunks with corn and beans and pumpkins. These +were their necessaries, but they had an occasional luxury +in the wild honey from the hollow of a bee tree when the +bears had not got at it.</p> + +<p>In its season, there was an abundance of wild fruit, +plums and cherries, haws and grapes, berries, and nuts +of every kind, and the maples yielded all the sugar they +chose to make from them. But it was long before they +had, at any time, the profusion which our modern arts +enable us to enjoy the whole year round, and in the hard +beginnings the orchard and the garden were forgotten +for the fields.</p> + +<p>When once the settler was housed against the weather, +he had the conditions of a certain rude comfort indoors. +If his cabin was not proof against the wind and rain or +snow, its vast fireplace formed the means of heating, while +the forest was an inexhaustible store of fuel. At first he +dressed in the skins and pelts of the deer and fox and +wolf, and his costume could have varied little from that +of the red savage about him, for we often read how he +mistook Indians for white men at first sight, and how the +Indians in their turn mistook white men for their own +people.</p> + +<p>The whole family went barefoot in the summer, but +in winter the pioneer wore moccasins of buckskin, and +buckskin leggins or trousers; his coat was a hunting + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +shirt belted at the waist and fringed where it fell to his +knees. It was of homespun, a mixture of wool and flax +called linsey-woolsey, and out of this the dresses of his +wife and daughters were made; the wool was shorn from +the sheep which were so scarce that they were never killed +for their flesh, except by the wolves, which were very fond +of mutton, but had no use for wool.</p> + +<p>For a wedding dress a cotton check was thought superb, +and it really cost a dollar a yard; silks, satins, laces, were +unknown. A man never left his house without his rifle; +the gun was a part of his dress, and in his belt he carried +a hunting knife and a hatchet; on his head he wore a +cap of squirrel skin, often with the plume-like tail dangling +from it.</p> + +<p>The furniture of the cabins was, like the clothing of the +pioneers, homemade. A bedstead was contrived by stretching +poles from forked sticks driven into the ground, and +laying clapboards across them; the bedclothes were bearskins. +Stools, benches, and tables were roughed out with +auger and broadax; the puncheon floor was left bare, and +if the earth formed the floor, no rug ever replaced the +grass which was its first carpet. The cabin had but one +room where the whole of life went on by day; the father +and mother slept there at night, and the children mounted +to their chamber in the loft by means of a ladder.</p> + +<p>The food was what has been already named. The meat +was venison, bear, raccoon, wild turkey, wild duck, and +pheasant; the drink was water, or rye coffee, or whisky +which the little stills everywhere supplied only too abundantly. +Wheat bread was long unknown, and corn cakes + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +of various makings and bakings supplied its place. The +most delicious morsel of all was corn grated while still in +the milk and fashioned into round cakes eaten hot from the +clapboard before the fire, or from the mysterious depths +of the Dutch oven, buried in coals and ashes on the hearth. +There was soon a great flow of milk from the kine that +multiplied in the woods and pastures, and there was sweetening +enough from the maple tree and the bee tree, but salt +was very scarce and very dear, and long journeys were made +through the perilous woods to and from the licks, or salt +springs, which the deer had discovered before the white +man or red man knew them.</p> + +<p>The bees which hived their honey in the hollow trees +were tame bees gone wild, and with the coming of the +settlers, some of the wild things increased so much that +they became a pest. Such were the crows which literally +blackened the fields after the settlers plowed, and which +the whole family had to fight from the corn when it was +planted. Such were the rabbits, and such, above all, +were the squirrels which overran the farms, and devoured +every green thing till the people combined in great squirrel +hunts and destroyed them by tens of thousands. The +larger game had meanwhile disappeared. The buffalo +and the elk went first; the deer followed, and the bear, +and even the useless wolf. But long after these the +poisonous reptiles lingered, the rattlesnake, the moccasin, +and the yet deadlier copperhead; and it was only when +the whole country was cleared that they ceased to be a +very common danger.</p> + +<div class="signature">—<i>From "Stories of Ohio," by William Dean Howells.</i></div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p> +<h2>HOW THEY BESIEGED THE TOWN.</h2> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0153-illus.jpg" id="p0153-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0153-illus.jpg" width="200" height="202" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Charles Reade.</p> +</div> +<p>Charles Reade, in his great romance entitled "The +Cloister and the Hearth," has not only presented us with +a story of absorbing interest, but has given us a vivid +and accurate view of manners and customs +during one of the most interesting +periods of history. The following +extract is particularly +interesting because of its vivid +portrayal of the methods of +warfare in vogue at that time. +There was a rebellion in Flanders. +More than one knight +had broken his oath of fealty +to the Duke of Burgundy, who +was the ruler of that country, +and some of the strongest castles +were fortified by rebels. To subdue these dissatisfied +spirits and to reduce the country again to subjection, +Counts Anthony and Baldwyn of Burgundy had entered +Flanders at the head of a considerable army and were +carrying fire and sword among the enemies of the Duke. +One of their exploits at this time is thus narrated by +the novelist:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>One afternoon they came in sight of a strongly fortified +town; and a whisper went through the little army that +this was a disaffected place. But upon coming nearer +they saw that the great gate stood open, and the towers + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> +that flanked it on each side were manned with a single +sentinel apiece. So the advancing force somewhat broke +their array and marched carelessly.</p> + +<p>When they were within a furlong, the drawbridge +across the moat rose slowly and creaking till it stood +vertical against the fort; and the very moment it settled, +into this warlike attitude, down rattled the portcullis at +the gate, and the towers and curtains bristled with lances +and crossbows.</p> + +<p>A stern hum ran through the front rank and spread to +the rear.</p> + +<p>"Halt!" cried their leader. The word went down the +line, and they halted. "Herald to the gate!"</p> + +<p>A herald spurred out of the ranks, and halting twenty +yards from the gate, raised his bugle with his herald's +flag hanging down round it, and blew a summons. A tall +figure in brazen armor appeared over the gate. A few +fiery words passed between him and the herald, which +were not audible; but their import was clear, for the +herald blew a single keen and threatening note at the +walls, and came galloping back with war in his face.</p> + +<p>The leader moved out of the line to meet him, and their +heads had not been together two seconds ere he turned in +his saddle and shouted, "Pioneers, to the van!" and in a +moment hedges were leveled, and the force took the field +and encamped just out of shot from the walls; and away +went mounted officers flying south, east, and west, to the +friendly towns, for catapults, palisades, mantelets, raw +hides, tar barrels, carpenters, provisions, and all the materials +for a siege.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> + The besiegers encamped a furlong from the walls, and +made roads; kept their pikemen in camp ready for an +assault when practicable; and sent forward their sappers, +pioneers, catapultiers, and crossbowmen. These opened +a siege by filling the moat and mining, or breaching the +wall, etc. And as much of their work had to be done +under close fire of arrows, quarrels, bolts, stones, and little +rocks, the above artists "had need of a hundred eyes," +and acted in concert with a vigilance, and an amount of +individual intelligence, daring, and skill that made a +siege very interesting, and even amusing,—to lookers-on.</p> + +<p>The first thing they did was to advance their carpenters +behind rolling mantelets, and to erect a stockade high and +strong on the very edge of the moat. Some lives were +lost at this, but not many; for a strong force of crossbowmen, +including Denys, rolled their mantelets<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a> + <a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> up and +shot over the workmen's heads at every besieged person +who showed his nose, and at every loophole, arrow slit, or +other aperture, which commanded the particular spot the +carpenters happened to be upon. Covered by their condensed +fire, these soon raised a high palisade between +them and the ordinary missiles from the walls.</p> + +<p>But the besieged expected this, and ran out at night +their hoards or wooden penthouses on the top of the curtains. +The curtains were built with square holes near +the top to receive the beams that supported these structures, +the true defense of mediæval forts, from which the + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> +besieged delivered their missiles with far more freedom +and variety of range than they could shoot through the +oblique but immovable loopholes of the curtain. On +this the besiegers brought up mangonels, and set them +hurling huge stones at these wood works and battering +them to pieces. At the same time they built a triangular +wooden tower as high as the curtain, and kept it ready +for use, and just out of shot.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"> + <a name="p0156-illus.jpg" id="p0156-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0156-illus.jpg" width="150" height="211" alt="Being besieged" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Hoard, or Penthouse.</p> +</div> +<p>This was a terrible sight to the besieged. These +wooden towers had taken many a town. They began to +mine underneath that part of the moat the tower +stood frowning at; and made other preparations +to give it a warm reception. The besiegers +also mined, but at another part, their +object being to get under the square barbican +and throw it down. All this +time Denys was behind his mantelet +with another arbalester, +protecting the workmen +and making some excellent +shots. These ended by +earning him the esteem of +an unseen archer, who every +now and then sent a winged +compliment quivering into his mantelet. +One came and stuck within +an inch of the narrow slit through +which Denys was squinting at the +moment.</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha!" cried he, "you shoot well, my friend. + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> +Come forth and receive my congratulations! Shall merit, +such as thine, hide its head? Comrade, it is one of those +Englishmen, with his half ell shaft. I'll not die till I've +had a shot at London wall."</p> + +<p>On the side of the besieged was a figure that soon +attracted great notice by promenading under fire. It +was a tall knight, clad in complete brass, and carrying +a light but prodigiously long lance, with which he directed +the movements of the besieged. And when any disaster +befell the besiegers, this tall knight and his long lance +were pretty sure to be concerned in it.</p> + +<p>My young reader will say, "Why did not Denys shoot +him?"</p> + +<p>Denys did shoot him; every day of his life; other +arbalesters shot him; archers shot him. Everybody +shot him. He was there to be shot, apparently. But +the abomination was, he did not mind being shot. Nay, +worse, he got at last so demoralized as not to seem to +know when he was shot. At last the besiegers got spiteful, +and would not waste any more good steel on him.</p> + +<p>It was a bright day, clear, but not quite frosty. The +efforts of the besieging force were concentrated against +a space of about two hundred and fifty yards, containing +two curtains and two towers, one of which was the square +barbican, the other had a pointed roof that was built to +overlap, and by this means a row of dangerous crenelets +between the roof and the masonry grinned down at the +nearer assailants, and looked not very unlike the grinders +of a modern frigate with each port nearly closed. The +curtains were overlapped with penthouses somewhat shattered + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> +by the mangonels, and other slinging engines of the +besiegers.</p> + +<p>On the besiegers' edge of the moat was what seemed at +first sight a gigantic arsenal, longer than it was broad, +peopled by human ants, and full of busy, honest industry, +and displaying all the various mechanical science of the +age in full operation. Here the lever at work, there the +winch and pulley, here the balance, there the capstan. +Everywhere heaps of stones, and piles of fascines, mantelets, +and rows of fire barrels. Mantelets rolling, the +hammer tapping all day, horses and carts in endless succession +rattling up with materials.</p> + +<p>At the edge of the moat opposite the wooden tower, a +strong penthouse, which they called "a cat," might be +seen stealing towards the curtain, and gradually filling +up the moat with fascines and rubbish, which the workmen +flung out at its mouth. It was advanced by two +sets of ropes passing round pulleys, and each worked by +a windlass at some distance from the cat. The knight +burnt the first cat by flinging blazing tar barrels on it. So +the besiegers made the roof of this one very steep, and +covered it with raw hides, and the tar barrels could not +harm it.</p> + +<p>And now the engineers proceeded to the unusual step +of slinging fifty-pound stones at an individual.</p> + +<p>This catapult was a scientific, simple, and beautiful +engine, and very effective in vertical fire at the short +ranges of the period.</p> + +<p>Imagine a fir tree cut down, and set to turn round a +horizontal axis on lofty uprights, but not in equilibrium; + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +three fourths of the tree being on the hither side. At +the shorter and thicker end of the tree was fastened a +weight of half a ton. This butt end just before the +discharge pointed towards the enemy. By means of a +powerful winch the long tapering portion of the tree +was forced down to the very ground, and fastened by a +bolt; and the stone placed in a sling attached to the +tree's nose. But this process of course raised the butt +end with its huge weight high in the air, and +kept it there struggling in vain to come down. +The bolt was now drawn; then the short end +swung furiously down, +the long end went as +furiously up, and at its +highest elevation flung +the huge stone out of +the sling with a tremendous +jerk. In this +case the huge mass +so flung missed the +knight, but came down +near him on the penthouse, +and went through it +like paper, making an awful +gap in roof and floor.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 150px;"> + <a name="p0159-illus.jpg" id="p0159-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0159-illus.jpg" width="150" height="186" alt="A large war weapon" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">A Catapult.</p> +</div> +<p>"Aha! a good shot!" +cried Baldwyn of Burgundy.</p> + +<p>The tall knight retired. The besiegers hooted him. +He reappeared on the platform of the barbican, his + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> +helmet being just visible above the parapet. He seemed +very busy, and soon an enormous Turkish catapult made +its appearance on the platform, and, aided by the elevation +at which it was planted, flung a twenty-pound +stone two hundred and forty yards in the air. The next +stone struck a horse that was bringing up a sheaf of +arrows in a cart, bowled the horse over dead like a rabbit, +and split the cart. It was then turned at the besiegers' +wooden tower, supposed to be out of shot. Sir Turk +slung stones cut with sharp edges on purpose, and struck +it repeatedly, and broke it in several places. The besiegers +turned two of their slinging engines on this +monster, and kept constantly slinging smaller stones +on to the platform of the barbican, and killed two of +the engineers. But the Turk disdained to retort. He +flung a forty-pound stone on to the besiegers' great +catapult, and hitting it in the neighborhood of the axis, +knocked the whole structure to pieces, and sent the +engineers skipping and yelling.</p> + +<p>The next morning an unwelcome sight greeted the +besieged. The cat was covered with mattresses and raw +hides, and fast filling up the moat. The knight stoned +it, but in vain; flung burning tar barrels on it, but in +vain. Then with his own hands he let down by a rope +a bag of burning sulphur and pitch, and stunk them out. +But Baldwyn, armed like a lobster, ran, and bounding +on the roof, cut the string, and the work went on. Then +the knight sent fresh engineers into the mine, and undermined +the place and underpinned it with beams, and +covered the beams thickly with grease and tar.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> + At break of day the moat was filled, and the wooden +tower began to move on its wheels towards a part of the +curtain on which two catapults were already playing, to +breach the hoards and clear the way. There was something +awful and magical in its approach without visible +agency, for it was driven by internal rollers worked by +leverage.</p> + +<p>On the top was a platform, where stood the first assailing +party protected in front by the drawbridge of the +turret, which stood vertical till lowered on to the wall; +but better protected by full suits of armor. The +besieged slung at the tower, and struck it often, but +in vain. It was well defended with mattresses and hides, +and presently was at the edge of the moat. The knight +bade fire the mine underneath it.</p> + +<p>Then the Turkish engine flung a stone of half a hundredweight +right amongst the knights, and carried two +away with it off the tower on to the plain.</p> + +<p>And now the besieging catapults flung blazing tar +barrels, and fired the hoards on both sides, and the assailants +ran up the ladders behind the tower, and lowered +the drawbridge on to the battered curtain, while the catapults +in concert flung tar barrels, and fired the adjoining +works to dislodge the defenders. The armed men on the +platform sprang on the bridge, led by Baldwyn. The +invulnerable knight and his men at arms met them, and +a fearful combat ensued, in which many a figure was seen +to fall headlong down off the narrow bridge. But fresh +besiegers kept swarming up behind the tower, and the +besieged were driven off the bridge.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> + Another minute, and the town would have been taken; +but so well had the firing of the mines been timed, that +just at this instant the underpinnings gave way, and the +tower suddenly sank away from the walls, tearing the +drawbridge clear and pouring the soldiers off it against +the masonry and on to the dry moat.</p> + +<p>The besieged uttered a fierce shout, and in a moment +surrounded Baldwyn and his fellows; but strange to +say, offered them quarter. While a party disarmed and +disposed of these, others fired the turret in fifty places +with a sort of hand grenades. At this work who so +busy as the tall knight? He put fire bags on his long +spear, and thrust them into the doomed structure late +so terrible. To do this, he was obliged to stand on a +projecting beam, holding on by the hand of a pikeman +to steady himself. This provoked Denys; he ran out +from his mantelet, hoping to escape notice in the confusion, +and leveling his crossbow missed the knight clean, +but sent his bolt into the brain of the pikeman, and the +tall knight fell heavily from the wall, lance and all.</p> + +<p>The knight, his armor glittering in the morning sun, +fell headlong, but turning as he neared the water, struck +it with a slap that sounded a mile off.</p> + +<p>None ever thought to see him again. But he fell at +the edge of the fascines, and his spear stuck into them +under the water, and by a mighty effort he got to the +side, but could not get out. Anthony sent a dozen +knights with a white flag to take him prisoner. He submitted +like a lamb, but said nothing.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="hr2" /> +<div class="fn"> +<h4>Footnote</h4> +<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a> + <a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> + For explanation of this and similar terms used in this selection, see +the notes at the end of this book and especially the word "Castle" in +Webster's International Dictionary.</p> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> +<h2>LOCHINVAR.</h2> +<h3>LADY HERON'S SONG.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through all the wide Border his steed was the best:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, save his good broadsword, he weapons had none;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He staid not for brake, and he stopped not for stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He swam the Esk river, where ford there was none;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bride had consented—the gallant came late;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So boldly he entered the Netherby hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Oh, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or to dance at our bridal, young lord Lochinvar?"<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I long wooed your daughter—my suit you denied;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now I am come with this lost love of mine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> + <span class="i0">The bride kissed the goblet, the knight took it up;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So stately his form, and so lovely her face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That never a hall such a galliard did grace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the bridemaidens whispered, "'Twere better by far<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When they reached the hall door, and the charger stood near;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So light to the croup the fair lady he swung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So light to the saddle before her he sprung!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"She is won! We are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They'll have fleet steeds that follow!" quoth young Lochinvar.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was mounting 'mong Græmes of the Netherby clan;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have you e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?<br /></span> +<div class="signature2">—<i>From "Marmion," by Sir Walter Scott.</i></div> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> +<h2>ON A TROPICAL RIVER.</h2> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0165-illus.jpg" id="p0165-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0165-illus.jpg" width="200" height="208" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Charles Kingsley.</p> +</div> +<p>"Westward Ho!" is a novel written by Rev. Charles +Kingsley, and first published in 1855. It is a story of +the times of Queen Elizabeth, of the threatened invasion +of England by the Spanish Armada, +and of wild adventure on the sea and +in the forests of the New World. +Several historical personages are +made to appear in the story, such +as Sir Walter Raleigh, Sir +Francis Drake, Admiral Hawkins, +and others. The hero is +Amyas Leigh, "a Devonshire +youth of great bodily strength, +of lively affection and sweet +temper, combined with a marked +propensity to combat from his +earliest years." Amyas and his companions had undertaken +an expedition to discover the fabled golden city of +Manoa, which was said to exist somewhere in the wilds +of South America. They had been searching more than +three years for this city when they reached the Meta +River in canoes, and the following adventure occurred.</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>For three hours or more Amyas Leigh and his companions +paddled easily up the glassy and windless reaches, +between two green flower-bespangled walls of forest, gay +with innumerable birds and insects; while down from +the branches which overhung the stream, long trailers + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> +hung to the water's edge, and seemed admiring in the +clear mirror the images of their own gorgeous flowers. +River, trees, flowers, birds, insects,—it was all a fairyland; +but it was a colossal one; and yet the voyagers +took little note of it.</p> + +<p>It was now to them an everyday occurrence to see trees +full two hundred feet high one mass of yellow or purple +blossom to the highest twigs, and every branch and stem +one hanging garden of crimson and orange orchids or +vanillas. Common to them were all the fantastic and +enormous shapes with which Nature bedecks her robes +beneath the fierce suns and fattening rains of the tropic +forest. Common were forms and colors of bird, and fish, +and butterfly, more strange and bright than ever opium +eater dreamed.</p> + +<p>The long processions of monkeys, who kept pace with +them along the tree tops, and proclaimed their wonder in +every imaginable whistle and grunt and howl, had ceased +to move their laughter, as much as the roar of the jaguar +and the rustle of the boa had ceased to move their fear; +and when a brilliant green and rose-colored fish, flat-bodied +like a bream, flat-finned like a salmon, and sawtoothed +like a shark, leaped clean on board of the canoe +to escape the rush of a huge alligator (whose loathsome +snout, ere he could stop, actually rattled against the +canoe), Jack coolly picked up the fish and said:</p> + +<p>"He's four pound weight! If you catch fish for us +like that, old fellow, just keep in our wake, and we'll +give you the cleanings for your wages!"</p> + +<p>They paddled onward hour after hour, sheltering themselves + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> +as best they could under the shadow of the southern +bank, while on their right hand the full sun glare lay +upon the enormous wall of mimosas, figs, and laurels, +which formed the northern forest, broken by the slender +shafts of bamboo tufts, and decked with a thousand gaudy +parasites; bank upon bank of gorgeous bloom piled upward +to the sky, till where its outline cut the blue, +flowers and leaves, too lofty to be distinguished by the +eye, formed a broken rainbow of all hues quivering in the +ascending streams of azure mist, until they seemed to +melt and mingle with the very heavens.</p> + +<p>And as the sun rose higher and higher, a great stillness +fell upon the forest. The jaguars and the monkeys had +hidden themselves in the darkest depths of the woods. +The birds' notes died out one by one; the very butterflies +ceased their flitting over the tree tops, and slept with outspread +wings upon the glossy leaves, undistinguishable +from the flowers around them. Now and then a parrot +swung and screamed at them from an overhanging bough; +or a thirsty monkey slid lazily down a swinging vine to +the surface of the stream, dipped up the water in his tiny +hand, and started chattering back, as his eyes met those +of some foul alligator peering upward through the clear +depths below.</p> + +<p>In shaded nooks beneath the boughs, rabbits as large as +sheep went paddling sleepily round and round, thrusting +up their unwieldy heads among the blooms of the blue +water lilies; while black and purple water hens ran up +and down upon the rafts of floating leaves. The shining +snout of a fresh-water dolphin rose slowly to the surface; + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> +a jet of spray whirred up; a rainbow hung upon it for a +moment; and the black snout sank lazily again.</p> + +<p>Here and there, too, upon some shallow pebbly shore, +scarlet flamingoes stood dreaming knee-deep on one leg; +crested cranes pranced up and down, admiring their own +finery; and irises and egrets dipped their bills under +water in search of prey; but before noon, even those had +slipped away, and there reigned a stillness which might +be heard—a stillness in which, as Humboldt says: "If +beyond the silence we listen for the faintest undertones, +we detect a stifled, continuous hum of insects, which +crowd the air close to the earth; a confused swarming +murmur which hangs round every bush, in the cracked +bark of trees, in the soil undermined by lizards and bees; +a voice proclaiming to us that all Nature breathes, that +under a thousand different forms life swarms in the gaping +and dusty earth, as much as in the bosom of the waters, +and in the air which breathes around."</p> + +<p>At last a soft and distant murmur, increasing gradually +to a heavy roar, announced that they were nearing some +cataract; till, turning a point where the alluvial soil rose +into a low cliff fringed with delicate ferns, they came in +full sight of a scene at which all paused—not with +astonishment, but with something very like disgust.</p> + +<p>"Rapids again!" grumbled one. "I thought we had +had enough of them on the Orinoco!"</p> + +<p>"We shall have to get out, and draw the canoes overland, +I suppose!"</p> + +<p>"There's worse behind; don't you see the spray behind +the palms?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> + "Stop grumbling, my masters, and don't cry out before +you are hurt. Paddle right up to the largest of those +islands, and let us look about us."</p> + +<p>In front of them was a snow-white bar of foam, some +ten feet high, along which were ranged three or four +islands of black rock. Each was crested with a knot of +lofty palms, whose green tops stood out clear against the +bright sky, while the lower half of their stems loomed +hazy through a luminous veil of rainbowed mist. The +banks right and left of the fall were so densely fringed +with a low hedge of shrubs that landing seemed almost +impossible; and their Indian guide, suddenly looking +round him and whispering, bade them beware of savages, +and pointed to a canoe which lay swinging in the eddies +under the largest island, moored apparently to the root of +some tree.</p> + +<p>"Silence, all!" cried Amyas, "and paddle up thither +and seize the canoe. If there be an Indian on the island, +we will have speech of him. But mind, and treat him +friendly; and on your lives, neither strike nor shoot, even +if he offers to fight."</p> + +<p>So, choosing a line of smooth backwater just in the +wake of the island, they drove their canoes up by main +force, and fastened them safely by the side of the Indian's, +while Amyas, always the foremost, sprang boldly on shore, +whispering to the Indian boy to follow him.</p> + +<p>Once on the island, Amyas felt sure enough that, if its +wild tenant had not seen them approach, he certainly had +not heard them, so deafening was the noise which filled +his brain, and which seemed to make the very leaves upon + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +the bushes quiver and the solid stone beneath his feet reel +and ring. For two hundred yards and more above the +fall, nothing met his eye but one white waste of raging +foam, with here and there a transverse dike of rock, which +hurled columns of spray and surges of beaded water high +into the air,—strangely contrasting with the still and +silent cliffs of green leaves which walled the river right +and left, and more strangely still with the knots of enormous +palms upon the islets, which reared their polished +shafts a hundred feet into the air, straight and upright as +masts, while their broad plumes and golden-clustered fruit +slept in the sunshine far aloft, the image of the stateliest +repose amid the wildest wrath of Nature.</p> + +<p>Ten yards farther, the cataract fell sheer in thunder; +but a high fern-fringed rock turned its force away from +the beach. Here, if anywhere, was the place to find the +owner of the canoe. He leaped down upon the pebbles; +and as he did so, a figure rose from behind a neighboring +rock, and met him face to face. It was an Indian +girl.</p> + +<p>He spoke first, in some Indian tongue, gently and smilingly, +and made a half-step forward; but quick as light +she caught up from the ground a bow, and held it fiercely +toward him, fitted with the long arrow, with which, as he +could see, she had been striking fish, for a line of twisted +grass hung from its barbed head. Amyas stopped, laid +down his own bow and sword, and made another step in +advance, smiling still, and making all Indian signs of +amity. But the arrow was still pointed straight at his +breast, and he knew the mettle and strength of the forest + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> +nymphs well enough to stand still and call for the Indian +boy.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> + <a name="p0171-illus.jpg" id="p0171-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0171-illus.jpg" width="500" height="380" alt="An encounter" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">A figure rose from behind a neighboring rock.</p> +</div> + +<p>The boy, who had been peering from above, leaped down +to them in a moment; and began, as the safest method, +groveling on his nose upon the pebbles, while he tried +two or three dialects, one of which at last she seemed to +understand, and answered in a tone of evident suspicion +and anger.</p> + +<p>"What does she say?"</p> + +<p>"That you are a Spaniard and a robber because you +have a beard."</p> + +<p>"Tell her that we are no Spaniards, but that we hate + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> +them, and are come across the great waters to help the +Indians to kill them."</p> + +<p>The boy had no sooner spoken, than, nimble as a deer, +the nymph had sprung up the rocks, and darted between +the palm stems to her own canoe. Suddenly she caught +sight of the English boats, and stopped with a cry of fear +and rage.</p> + +<p>"Let her pass!" shouted Amyas, who had followed her +closely. "Push your boats off, and let her pass. Boy, +tell her to go on; they will not come near her."</p> + +<p>But she hesitated still, and with arrow drawn to the +head, faced first on the boat's crew, and then on Amyas, +till the Englishmen had shoved off full twenty yards.</p> + +<p>Then, leaping into her tiny piragua, she darted into +the wildest whirl of the eddies, shooting along with +vigorous strokes, while the English trembled as they saw +the frail bark spinning and leaping amid the muzzles +of the alligators and the huge dog-toothed trout. But, +with the swiftness of an arrow, she reached the northern +bank, drove her canoe among the bushes, and, leaping +from it, darted into the bush, and vanished like a dream.</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<p>The chief interest in the foregoing story lies, of course, +in its faithful and glowing picture of scenery in the midst +of a tropical forest. The learner should read it a second +time and try to point out all the passages that are remarkable +for their wealth of description. He should try to +form in his mind an image of the sights and sounds that +he would encounter in a voyage up the Meta River or any +other of the tributaries of the Orinoco or the Amazon.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE FLAG OF OUR COUNTRY.</h2> + +<hr class="hr2" /> +<h3>I.</h3> + +<p>There is the national flag. He must be cold indeed +who can look upon its folds, rippling in the breeze, without +pride of country. If he be in a foreign land, the flag +is companionship and country itself, with all its endearments.</p> + +<p>Who, as he sees it, can think of a state merely? +Whose eyes once fastened upon its radiant trophies, can +fail to recognize the image of the whole nation? It has +been called a "floating piece of poetry," and yet I know +not if it have an intrinsic beauty beyond other ensigns. +Its highest beauty is in what it symbolizes. It is because +it represents all, that all gaze at it with delight +and reverence.</p> + +<p>It is a piece of bunting lifted in the air; but it speaks +sublimely, and every part has a voice. Its stripes of +alternate red and white proclaim the original union of +thirteen states to maintain the Declaration of Independence. +Its stars of white on a field of blue proclaim that +union of states constituting our national constellation, +which receives a new star with every new state. The two +together signify union past and present.</p> + +<p>The very colors have a language which was officially +recognized by our fathers. White is for purity, red for +valor, blue for justice; and altogether, bunting, stripes, +stars, and colors, blazing in the sky, make the flag of our +country to be cherished by all our hearts, to be upheld by +all our hands.</p> + + +<hr class="hr2" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> +<h3>II.</h3> + +<p>I have said enough and more than enough to manifest +the spirit in which this flag is now committed to your +charge. It is the national ensign, pure and simple, +dearer to all hearts at this moment as we lift it to the +gale, and see no other sign of hope upon the storm cloud +which rolls and rattles above it, save that which is its +own radiant hues—dearer, a thousand fold dearer to us +all than ever it was before, while gilded by the sunshine +of prosperity and playing with the zephyrs of peace. It +will speak for itself far more eloquently than I can speak +for it.</p> + +<p>Behold it! Listen to it! Every star has a tongue; +every stripe is articulate. There is no speech nor language +where their voices are not heard. There is magic +in the web of it. It has an answer for every question of +duty. It has a solution for every doubt and every perplexity. +It has a word of good cheer for every hour +of gloom or of despondency.</p> + +<p>Behold it! Listen to it! It speaks of earlier and of +later struggles. It speaks of victories and sometimes of +reverses, on the sea and on the land. It speaks of patriots +and heroes among the living and among the dead; and of +him, the first and greatest of them all, around whose consecrated +ashes this unnatural and abhorrent strife has +been so long raging. But, before all and above all other +associations and memories,—whether of glorious men, or +glorious deeds, or glorious places,—its voice is ever of +Union and Liberty, of the Constitution and of the Laws.</p> + +<div class="signature">—<i>Robert C. Winthrop.</i></div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE HIGH TIDE ON THE COAST OF LINCOLNSHIRE—1571.</h2> + +<div class="figright2" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0175-illus.jpg" id="p0175-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0175-illus.jpg" width="200" height="205" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Jean Ingelow.</p> +</div> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The old mayor climbed the belfry tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The ringers ran by two, by three:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Pull, if ye never pulled before,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Good ringers, pull your best," quoth he.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Play up, play up, O Boston bells!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ply all your changes, all your swells;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Play up 'The Brides of Enderby'!"<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Men say it was a stolen tide;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Lord that sent it, he knows all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in mine ears doth still abide<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The message that the bells let fall:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there was naught of strange, beside<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flights of mews and peewits pied<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By millions crouched on the old sea wall.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I sat and spun within the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My thread brake off, I raised mine eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The level sun, like ruddy ore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lay sinking in the barren skies,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> + <span class="i0">And dark against day's golden death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She moved where Lindis wandereth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My son's fair wife, Elizabeth.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!" calling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere the early dews were falling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far away I heard her song.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Cusha! Cusha!" all along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the reedy Lindis floweth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Floweth, floweth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the meads where melick groweth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faintly came her milking song,<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!" calling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"For the dews will soon be falling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave your meadow grasses mellow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mellow, mellow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quit your cowslips, cowslips yellow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come up, Whitefoot, come up, Lightfoot;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quit the stalks of parsley hollow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hollow, hollow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come up, Jetty, rise and follow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the clovers lift your head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come up, Whitefoot, come up, Lightfoot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come up, Jetty, rise and follow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jetty, to the milking shed."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If it be long, ay, long ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When I begin to think how long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again I hear the Lindis flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Swift as an arrow, sharp and strong;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> + <span class="i0">And all the air, it seemeth me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is full of floating bells (saith she),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ring the tune of Enderby.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All fresh the level pasture lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And not a shadow might be seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save where full five good miles away<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The steeple towered from out the green.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lo! the great bell far and wide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was heard in all the country side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Saturday at eventide.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The swanherds where their sedges are<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Moved on in sunset's golden breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shepherd lads I heard afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And my son's wife, Elizabeth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till floating o'er the grassy sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came down that kindly message free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The "Brides of Mavis Enderby."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then some looked up into the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And all along where Lindis flows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To where the goodly vessels lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And where the lordly steeple shows.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They said, "And why should this thing be?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What danger lowers by land or sea?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They ring the tune of Enderby!<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For evil news from Mablethorpe,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of pirate galleys warping down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ships ashore beyond the scorpe,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They have not spared to wake the town:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> + <span class="i0">But while the west is red to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And storms be none, and pirates flee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why ring 'The Brides of Enderby'?"<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I looked without, and lo! my son<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Came riding down with might and main;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He raised a shout as he drew on,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till all the welkin rang again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Elizabeth! Elizabeth!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(A sweeter woman ne'er drew breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than my son's wife, Elizabeth.)<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The old sea wall," he cried, "is down,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The rising tide comes on apace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And boats adrift in yonder town<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Go sailing up the market place."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He shook as one that looks on death:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"God save you, mother!" straight he saith,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Where is my wife, Elizabeth?"<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Good son, where Lindis winds away,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With her two bairns I marked her long;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ere yon bells began to play,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Afar I heard her milking song."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He looked across the grassy lea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To right, to left, "Ho, Enderby!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They rang "The Brides of Enderby!"<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With that he cried and beat his breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For, lo! along the river's bed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mighty eygre reared his crest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And up the Lindis raging sped.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> + <span class="i0">It swept with thunderous noises loud;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shaped like a curling snow-white cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or like a demon in a shroud.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And rearing Lindis backward pressed<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shook all her trembling banks amain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then madly at the eygre's breast<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Flung up her weltering walls again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then banks came down with ruin and rout—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then beaten foam flew round about—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then all the mighty floods were out.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So far, so fast the eygre drave,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The heart had hardly time to beat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before a shallow seething wave<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sobbed in the grasses at our feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The feet had hardly time to flee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before it brake against the knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the world was in the sea.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Upon the roof we sat that night,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The noise of bells went sweeping by;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I marked the lofty beacon light<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Stream from the church tower, red and high—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lurid mark and dread to see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And awesome bells they were to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in the dark rang "Enderby."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They rang the sailor lads to guide<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From roof to roof who fearless rowed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I—my son was at my side,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And yet the ruddy beacon glowed;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> + <span class="i0">And yet he moaned beneath his breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Oh, come in life, or come in death!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh lost! my love Elizabeth."<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And didst thou visit him no more?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou didst, thou didst, my daughter dear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waters laid thee at his door,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ere yet the early dawn was clear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy pretty bairns in fast embrace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lifted sun shone on thy face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down drifted to thy dwelling place.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That flow strewed wrecks about the grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That ebb swept out the flocks to sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fatal ebb and flow, alas!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To many more than mine and me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But each will mourn his own (she saith),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sweeter woman ne'er drew breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than my son's wife, Elizabeth.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I shall never hear her more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the reedy Lindis shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!" calling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere the early dews be falling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shall never hear her song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Cusha! Cusha!" all along<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the sunny Lindis floweth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Goeth, floweth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the meads where melick groweth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the water winding down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Onward floweth to the town.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> + <span class="i0">I shall never see her more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the reeds and rushes quiver,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shiver, quiver;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stand beside the sobbing river,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sobbing, throbbing, in its falling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the sandy, lonesome shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shall never hear her calling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Leave your meadow grasses mellow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mellow, mellow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quit your cowslips, cowslips yellow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come up, Whitefoot, come up, Lightfoot;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quit your pipes of parsley hollow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hollow, hollow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come up, Lightfoot, rise and follow;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lightfoot, Whitefoot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From your clovers lift the head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come up, Jetty, follow, follow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jetty, to the milking shed."<br /></span> +<div class="signature2">—<i>Jean Ingelow.</i></div> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<h2>THE STORY OF THOMAS BECKET.</h2> + +<hr class="hr2" /> +<h3>I. HIS LIFE.</h3> + +<p>Henry II. began his reign over England in the year +1154, and he was the mightiest king that had yet sat +upon the throne. He had vast possessions. All England +and nearly half of France were his, and he was well able +to rule over them and keep them in order.</p> + +<p>He was a short, stout, reddish-haired man, with a face +well-tanned by exposure to the wind and the sun. His + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> +legs were bowed by constant riding. Ever busy at something, +he rarely sat down, except at meals; and there +was plenty of work for him to do.</p> + +<p>In the early years of his reign his chief friend and +servant was Thomas Becket, who was a clever and handsome +man. He knew well how to please the king by +sharing in his amusements, and by helping him in the great +work of keeping order among his barons and knights.</p> + +<p>When Becket was a young man he was out hunting, +one day, with his pet hawk upon his wrist. Riding carelessly +along, he came to a narrow wooden bridge, which +crossed a stream close to a mill. When in the middle +of the bridge his horse stumbled, and Becket, horse, +and hawk were thrown into the water.</p> + +<p>The horse at once swam to the bank. So did Becket, +but, upon looking back, he saw his hawk struggling in +the middle of the stream. Its straps had become entangled +about its feet and wings, and the bird was helpless. +Although the stream was running swiftly to the +great mill-wheel, Becket turned round and swam back +to save the hawk.</p> + +<p>By this time the current had carried him very near to +the wheel, and in another moment both man and bird must +have been crushed to death. But just then the miller saw +the danger and stopped the mill. Becket climbed out of +the water with the bird in his hand, seeming not at all +frightened because of the danger which he had escaped. +During his entire life he had many trials and was opposed +by many enemies; but he faced them all as fearlessly as +he had risked drowning in order to save his hawk.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> + King Henry made Becket his chancellor, that is his chief +minister, and gave him much wealth. Becket lived in +great splendor in a fine palace. He was so hospitable +that he kept an open table, at which all were free to +come and feast when they chose. His clothes were the +finest and gayest that could be made, and wherever he +went he took with him troops of friends and servants.</p> + +<p>Once, when he was sent to France to settle a dispute +with the French king, he traveled with such a large +train of followers that the people were filled with wonder. +We can picture the procession entering a quiet +country town.</p> + +<p>"First came two hundred boys singing quaint songs or +glees. Then followed great hounds with their keepers, +behind whom were wagons guarded by fierce English +mastiffs. One of the wagons was laden with beer to be +given away to the people who might render any help +on the road.</p> + +<p>"Then came twelve horses, upon each of which sat a +monkey and a groom. After all these there followed a +vast company of knights and squires and priests, riding +two and two.</p> + +<p>"Last of all came Becket and a few friends, with whom +he talked by the way." We can imagine the wonder of +the French people at so fine, yet strange, a show. We +can hear them exclaim, "What kind of a man must the +king of England be, when his chancellor can travel in +such state!"</p> + +<p>At this time the Church in England possessed great +power and wealth. It was the safeguard that stood + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> +between the people and the greed and cruelty of their +rulers. It was the protector of the poor, and the friend +of the oppressed; and even the king was obliged to obey +its commands.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0184-illus.jpg" id="p0184-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0184-illus.jpg" width="200" height="200" alt="His portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Thomas Becket.<br />(From an Old Painting.)</p> +</div> +<p>King Henry was jealous of the influence of the Church. +He resolved that, having already reduced the power of +the barons, he would now reduce the +power of the Church. And among +all his faithful men, who would be +more likely to help him in such +business than his friend Becket, +who had hitherto been his +ablest assistant in every undertaking?</p> + +<p>It happened about this time +that the Archbishop of Canterbury, +the highest officer of +the Church in England, died. +This event was very pleasing +to Henry, and through his +influence the Pope appointed Thomas Becket to be the +new archbishop.</p> + +<p>Becket had hitherto been faithful to Henry in all +things, but he now felt that his first duty was to the +Church, and he resolved to defend its rights, even though +he should displease the king. He changed entirely the +manner of his life. Instead of his splendid clothes, he +wore a monk's dress and a hair shirt next to his skin. +He tried, as people understood it in those times, to carry +out the teachings of his Lord and Master; and every day + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> +he waited upon a number of poor men and washed their +feet. Instead of gay knights only good and pious men +sat at his table. He gave up his chancellorship, and told +the king plainly that he would resist all attempts to take +away the rights of the Church.</p> + +<p>Many were the quarrels after that between the king +and the archbishop. At one time, in a fit of rage, Henry +cried out: "I will not be preached at by you. Are you +not the son of one of my clowns?"</p> + +<p>"It is true," replied the archbishop, "I am not descended +from ancient kings, but neither was the blessed +Peter to whom were given the keys of the kingdom of +heaven."</p> + +<p>"But Peter," said the king, "died for his Lord."</p> + +<p>"And I, too, will die for my Lord," said Becket, "when +the time shall come."</p> + +<p>And it was not long till the time did come. Upon +hearing some hasty, angry words from the king, four +knights set out to Canterbury, determined to kill Becket, +and thus not only put an end to the long quarrel but win +the king's favor for themselves.</p> + +<div class="signature">—<i>Anonymous.</i></div> + + +<hr class="hr2" /> +<h3>II. HIS DEATH.</h3> + +<p>The vespers had already begun, and the monks were +singing the service in the choir, when two boys rushed +up the nave, announcing, more by their terrified gestures +than by their words, that the soldiers were bursting into +the palace and monastery. Instantly the service was +thrown into the utmost confusion; part remained at +prayer, part fled into the numerous hiding places the vast + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> +fabric affords; and part went down the steps of the choir +into the transept to meet the little band at the door.</p> + +<p>"Come in, come in!" exclaimed one of them. "Come +in, and let us die together."</p> + +<p>The Archbishop continued to stand outside, and said: +"Go and finish the service. So long as you keep in +the entrance, I shall not come in." They fell back a +few paces, and he stepped within the door, but, finding +the whole place thronged with people, he paused on the +threshold, and asked, "What is it that these people +fear?" One general answer broke forth, "The armed +men in the cloister." As he turned and said, "I shall +go out to them," he heard the clash of arms behind. The +knights had just forced their way into the cloister, and +were now (as would appear from their being thus seen +through the open door) advancing along its southern +side. They were in mail, which covered their faces up +to their eyes, and carried their swords drawn. Three +had hatchets. Fitzurse, with the ax he had taken from +the carpenters, was foremost, shouting as he came, "Here, +here, king's men!" Immediately behind him followed +Robert Fitzranulph, with three other knights; and a +motley group—some their own followers, some from the +town—with weapons, though not in armor, brought up +the rear. At this sight, so unwonted in the peaceful +cloisters of Canterbury, not probably beheld since the +time when the monastery had been sacked by the Danes, +the monks within, regardless of all remonstrances, shut +the door of the cathedral, and proceeded to barricade it +with iron bars. A loud knocking was heard from the + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 187]<br />[Pg 188]</a></span> +band without, who, having vainly endeavored to prevent +the entrance of the knights into the cloister, now rushed +before them to take refuge in the church. Becket, who +had stepped some paces into the cathedral, but was resisting +the solicitations of those immediately about him to +move up into the choir for safety, darted back, calling +aloud as he went, "Away, you cowards! By virtue of +your obedience I command you not to shut the door—the +church must not be turned into a castle." With his +own hands he thrust them away from the door, opened +it himself, and catching hold of the excluded monks, +dragged them into the building, exclaiming, "Come in, +come in—faster, faster!"</p> + +<div class="figcenter bord" style="width: 500px;"> + <a name="p0187-illus.jpg" id="p0187-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0187-illus.jpg" width="500" height="297" alt="A very large church" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">From a Photograph. Engraved by Charles Meeder.<br /> + Canterbury Cathedral.</p> +</div> + +<p>The knights, who had been checked for a moment by +the sight of the closed door, on seeing it unexpectedly +thrown open, rushed into the church. It was, we must +remember, about five o'clock in a winter evening; the +shades of night were gathering, and were deepened into a +still darker gloom within the high and massive walls of +the vast cathedral, which was only illuminated here and +there by the solitary lamps burning before the altars. +The twilight, lengthening from the shortest day a fortnight +before, was but just sufficient to reveal the outline +of objects.</p> + +<p>In the dim twilight they could just discern a group of +figures mounting the steps of the eastern staircase. One +of the knights called out to them, "Stay." Another, +"Where is Thomas Becket, traitor to the king?" No +answer was returned. None could have been expected by +any one who remembered the indignant silence with which + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> +Becket had swept by when the same words had been +applied by Randulf of Broc at Northampton. Fitzurse +rushed forward, and, stumbling against one of the monks +on the lower step, still not able to distinguish clearly in +the darkness, exclaimed, "Where is the Archbishop?" +Instantly the answer came: "Reginald, here I am, no +traitor, but the archbishop and priest of God; what do +you wish?" and from the fourth step, which he had +reached in his ascent, with a slight motion of his head—noticed +apparently as his peculiar manner in moments of +excitement—Becket descended to the transept. Attired, +we are told, in his white rochet, with a cloak and hood +thrown over his shoulders, he thus suddenly confronted +his assailants. Fitzurse sprang back two or three paces, +and Becket passing by him took up his station between the +central pillar and the massive wall which still forms the +southwest corner of what was then the chapel of St. +Benedict. Here they gathered round him, with the cry, +"Absolve the bishops whom you have excommunicated." +"I cannot do other than I have done," he replied, and +turning to Fitzurse, he added, "Reginald, you have received +many favors at my hands; why do you come into +my church armed?" Fitzurse planted the ax against his +breast, and returned for answer, "You shall die—I will +tear out your heart." Another, perhaps in kindness, +struck him between the shoulders with the flat of his +sword, exclaiming, "Fly; you are a dead man." "I am +ready to die," replied the primate, "for God and the +Church; but I warn you, I curse you in the name of God +Almighty, if you do not let my men escape."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> + The well-known horror which in that age was felt at +an act of sacrilege, together with the sight of the crowds +who were rushing in from the town through the nave, +turned their efforts for the next few moments to carrying +him out of the church. Fitzurse threw down the ax, +and tried to drag him out by the collar of his long cloak, +calling, "Come with us—you are our prisoner." "I +will not fly, you detestable fellow," was Becket's reply, +roused to his usual vehemence, and wrenching the cloak +out of Fitzurse's grasp. The three knights struggled +violently to put him on Tracy's shoulders. Becket set +his back against the pillar, and resisted with all his might, +whilst Grim, vehemently remonstrating, threw his arms +around him to aid his efforts. In the scuffle, Becket +fastened upon Tracy, shook him by his coat of mail, and +exerting his great strength flung him down on the pavement. +It was hopeless to carry on the attempt to remove +him. And in the final struggle which now began, Fitzurse, +as before, took the lead. He approached with his +drawn sword, and waving it over his head, cried, "Strike, +strike!" but merely dashed off his cap. Tracy sprang +forward and struck a more decided blow.</p> + +<p>The blood from the first blow was trickling down his +face in a thin streak; he wiped it with his arm, and when +he saw the stain, he said, "Into thy hands, O Lord, I +commend my spirit." At the third blow, he sank on his +knees—his arms falling, but his hands still joined as if in +prayer. With his face turned towards the altar of St. +Benedict, he murmured in a low voice, "For the name of +Jesus, and the defense of the Church, I am willing to die." + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> +Without moving hand or foot, he fell flat on his face as +he spoke. In this posture he received a tremendous blow, +aimed with such violence that the scalp or crown of the +head was severed from the skull. "Let us go—let us +go," said Hugh of Horsea, "the traitor is dead; he will +rise no more."</p> + +<p class="cen">*****</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0191-illus.jpg" id="p0191-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0191-illus.jpg" width="200" height="206" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Dean Stanley.</p> +</div> +<p>The life of Thomas Becket, and his tragic death, have +furnished themes for many noble contributions to English +literature. Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, +Dean of Westminster, has written of +him, in a very impartial and trustworthy +manner, in his "Historical +Memoirs of Canterbury" +from which the above extract +is taken. The poet Tennyson, +late in life, composed a tragedy +entitled "Becket" which portrays +in a vivid, poetical manner +the most striking scenes in +the career of the great archbishop. +James Anthony Froude, +in "Short Stories on Great Subjects," has written a charming +and instructive essay on the "Life and Times of +Thomas Becket"; and Professor Freeman has presented +us with a similar historical study in his "Saint Thomas +of Canterbury." It may also be observed that Chaucer's +immortal work, "The Canterbury Tales," depends for its +connecting thread upon the once general custom of making +pilgrimages to the tomb of Becket.</p> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE PILGRIMS. (1620.)</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0192-illus.jpg" id="p0192-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0192-illus.jpg" width="200" height="200" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Edward Everett.</p> +</div> +<p>Methinks I see one solitary, adventurous vessel, the +"Mayflower," of a forlorn hope, freighted with the prospects +of a future state, and bound across the unknown sea. +I behold it pursuing, with a thousand misgivings, the uncertain, +the tedious voyage. Suns rise and set, and weeks +and months pass, and winter surprises them on the deep, +but brings them not the sight of the +wished-for shore. I see them now, +scantily supplied with provisions, +crowded almost to suffocation, in their +ill-stored prison, delayed by calms, +pursuing a circuitous route,—and +now, driven in fury +before the raging tempest, +on the high and giddy +waves. The awful voice of +the storm brawls through +the rigging.</p> + +<p>The laboring masts seem +straining from their base; the dismal sound of the pumps +is heard; the ship leaps, as it were, madly, from billow to +billow; the ocean breaks, and settles with engulfing floods +over the floating deck, and beats with deadening, shivering +weight, against the staggering vessel.</p> + +<p>I see them escape from these perils, pursuing their all +but desperate undertaking, and landed at last, after a five +months' passage, on the ice-clad rocks of Plymouth,—weak +and weary from the voyage, poorly armed, scantily + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> +provisioned, without shelter, without means, surrounded +by hostile tribes.</p> + +<p>Shut now the volume of history, and tell me, on any +principle of human probability, what shall be the fate of +this handful of adventurers? Tell me, man of military +science, in how many months were they all swept off by +the thirty savage tribes, enumerated within the early +limits of New England?</p> + +<p>Tell me, politician, how long did a shadow of a colony +on which your conventions and treaties had not smiled, +languish on the distant coast? Student of history, compare +for me the baffled projects, the deserted settlements, +the abandoned adventures of other times, and find the +parallel of this.</p> + +<p>Was it the winter's storm, beating upon the houseless +heads of women and children? was it hard labor and +spare meals? was it disease? was it the tomahawk? was +it the deep malady of a blighted hope, a ruined enterprise, +and a broken heart, aching in its last moments at the +recollection of the loved and left, beyond the sea? was it +some, or all of these united, that hurried this forsaken +company to their melancholy fate?</p> + +<p>And is it possible, that neither of these causes, that not +all combined, were able to blast this bud of hope? Is it +possible, that from a beginning so feeble, so frail, so worthy +not so much of admiration as of pity, there has gone +forth a progress so steady, a growth so wonderful, an expansion +so ample, a reality so important, a promise, yet to +be fulfilled, so glorious?</p> + +<div class="signature">—<i>Edward Everett.</i></div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter bord" style="width: 500px;"> + <a name="p0194-illus.jpg" id="p0194-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0194-illus.jpg" width="500" height="298" alt="Watching the ship leave" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">From the Painting by A. W. Bayes. Engraved by E. Heinemann.<br /> + The Departure of the Mayflower.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS.</h2> +<h3>(1620.)</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The breaking waves dashed high<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On a stern and rock-bound coast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the trees against a stormy sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their giant branches tossed.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the heavy night hung dark<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The hills and waters o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When a band of exiles moored their bark<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On the wild New England shore.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not as the conqueror comes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They, the true-hearted, came;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not with the roll of the stirring drums,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the trumpet that sings of fame.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not as the flying come,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In silence and in fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They shook the depths of the desert gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With their hymns of lofty cheer.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Amidst the storm they sang,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the stars heard, and the sea:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To the anthem of the free!<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The ocean eagle soared<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From his nest by the white wave's foam:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the rocking pines of the forest roared,—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This was their welcome home!<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> + <span class="i0">There were men with hoary hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Amidst that pilgrim band;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why had <i>they</i> come to wither there,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Away from their childhood's land?<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was woman's fearless eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lit by her deep love's truth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was manhood's brow serenely high,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the fiery heart of youth.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What sought they thus afar?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bright jewels of the mine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They sought a faith's pure shrine!<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay! call it holy ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The soil where first they trod:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They have left unstained what there they found,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Freedom to worship God.<br /></span> +<div class="signature2">—<i>Felicia Hemans.</i></div> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Patriots have toiled, and in their country's cause<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bled nobly; and their deeds, as they deserve<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Receive proud recompense. We give in charge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their names to the sweet lyre. The historic Muse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proud of the treasure, marches with it down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To latest times; and Sculpture, in her turn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gives bond in stone and ever-during brass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To guard them, and to immortalize her trust.<br /></span> +<div class="signature2">—<i>William Cowper.</i></div> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE ROBIN.</h2> + +<p>The robin is perhaps the best known of all our birds. +The name is so prominent in children's stories, in folklore, +in poetry, and in general literature, that even town +children who have never seen the bird know it by name; +but to many grown people, even those who have lived all +their lives in the country, the robin is not familiar as a +winter bird. It is known to come and go, it is true, but +is supposed to be merely in transit, and just where the +observer happens to be is not its abiding place. This +impression is due to lack of observation, for the birds are +as well disposed towards your thicket and cedar trees as +those of some far-off neighbor.</p> + +<p>This crystal-clear, cold January day, with the mercury +almost at zero, I found the robins on the south hillside, +and seldom have they shown to better advantage. One +was perched in a sapling beech to which the leaves still +clung. It chirped at times so that its companions could +hear it, and was answered by them, as well as by the nuthatches, +a tree creeper, some sparrows, and a winter wren.</p> + +<p>It was a cozy, warm spot wherein these birds had +gathered, which, strangely enough, was filled with music +even when every bird was mute. This robin was half +concealed among the crisp beech leaves, and these—not +the birds about them—were singing. The breeze caused +them to tremble violently, and their thin edges were as +harp strings, the wiry sound produced being smoothed by +the crisp rattling caused by the leaves' rapid contact with +each other.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> + It was much like the click of butterflies' wings, but +greatly exaggerated. A simple sound, but a sweet, +wholesome one that made me think less of the winter's +rigor and recalled the recent warm autumnal days. They +were singing leaves, and the robin watched them closely +as he stood near by, and chirped at times, as if to encourage +them. Altogether it made a pretty picture, one of +those that human skill has not yet transferred to a printed +page; and our winter sunshine is full of just such beauty.</p> + +<p>How incomprehensible it is that any one should speak +of the <i>few</i> robins that venture to remain! Flocks of a +hundred or more are not uncommon in the depth of +winter, and this recalls the fact that at this time of year +robins are never alone. It may appear so for a time, but +when the bird you are watching is ready to move on, his +call will be answered by others that you have not seen, +and half a dozen at least will fly off to new scenes.</p> + +<p>This is often noticed on a much larger scale when we +flush robins in a field. They are generally widely scattered, +and, go where you will, there will be one or two +hopping before you; but when one takes alarm, the +danger cry is heard by all, and a great flock will gather +in the air in an incredibly short time.</p> + +<p>Robins are not lovers of frozen ground; they know +where the earth resists frost, down in the marshy meadows, +and there they congregate in the dreary midwinter afternoons, +after spending the morning feeding upon berries. +I have seen them picking those of the cedar, poison ivy, +green brier, and even the seedy, withered fruit of the +poke; but at times this question of food supply must + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> +be a difficult problem to solve, and then they leave us +for a while, until pleasanter weather prevails, when they +venture back.</p> + +<p>In April, when the chill of winter is no longer in its +bones, the robin becomes prominent, and the more so +because of the noise it makes. It sings fairly well, and +early in the morning there is a world of suggestiveness +in the ringing notes. The song is loud, declamatory, and +acceptable more for the pleasant thoughts it occasions +than for the actual melody. We are always glad to hear +the robins, but never for the same reason that we listen +to a wood thrush. Of course there are exceptions.</p> + +<p>With the close of the nesting season—and this extends +well into the summer—much of the attractiveness +of the bird disappears. As individual members of great +loose flocks that fret the upper air with an incessant +chirping, they offer little to entertain us even when the +less hardy minstrels of the summer have sought their +southern homes.</p> + +<p>It is true that they add something to the picture of a +dreamy October afternoon when the mellow sunlight tips +the wilted grasses with dull gold. They restore for the +time the summertide activity of the meadows when with +golden-winged woodpeckers they chase the crickets in the +close-cropped pastures, but they are soon forgotten if a +song sparrow sings or a wary hawk screams among the +clouds. Robins are always welcome, but never more so +than when they chatter, on an April morning, of the near +future with its buds and blossoms.</p> + +<div class="signature">—<i>From "Bird-Land Echoes," by Charles Conrad Abbott.</i></div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE MOTIONS OF BIRDS.</h2> + +<p>A good ornithologist should be able to distinguish birds +by their air as well as by their colors and shape, on the +wing as well as on the ground; and in the bush as well +as in the hand. For though it must not be said that +every species of bird has a manner peculiar to itself, yet +there is somewhat in most <i>genera</i>, at least, that at first +sight discriminates them, and enables a judicious observer +to pronounce upon them with some certainty.</p> + +<p>Thus kites and buzzards sail round in circles with +wings expanded and motionless; and it is from their gliding +manner that the former are still called in the north of +England gleads, from the Saxon verb <i>glidan</i>, to glide. +Hen harriers fly low over the meadows or fields of corn, +and beat the ground regularly like a pointer or setting +dog. Owls move in a buoyant manner, as if lighter than +the air; they seem to want ballast.</p> + +<p>There is a peculiarity belonging to ravens that must +draw the attention even of the most incurious—they +spend all their leisure time in striking and cuffing each +other on the wing in a kind of playful skirmish; and, +when they move from one place to another, frequently +turn on their backs with a loud croak, and seem to be +falling to the ground. When this odd gesture betides +them, they are scratching themselves with one foot, and +thus lose the center of gravity. Rooks sometimes dive +and tumble in a frolicsome manner; crows and daws +swagger in their walk; woodpeckers fly with a wavy +motion, opening and closing their wings at every stroke, + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +and so are always rising or falling in curves. All of this +genus use their tails, which incline downward, as a support +while they run up trees. Parrots, like all other +hooked-clawed birds, walk awkwardly, and make use of +their bill as a third foot, climbing and descending with +ridiculous caution.</p> + +<p>All the gallinæ parade and walk gracefully, and run +nimbly, but fly with difficulty, with an impetuous whirring, +and in a straight line. Magpies and jays flutter +with powerless wings, and make no dispatch; herons +seem encumbered with too much sail for their light +bodies, but these vast hollow wings are necessary in +carrying burdens, such as large fishes, and the like; +pigeons, and particularly the sort called smiters, have a +way of clashing their wings, the one against the other, +over their backs with a loud snap; another variety, called +tumblers, turn themselves over in the air.</p> + +<p>The kingfisher darts along like an arrow; fern owls, +or goatsuckers, glance in the dusk over the tops of trees +like a meteor; swallows sweep over the surface of the +ground and water, and distinguish themselves by rapid +turns and quick evolutions; swifts dash round in circles; +and the bank martin moves with frequent vacillations like +a butterfly.</p> + +<p>Most small birds hop; but wagtails and larks walk, moving +their legs alternately. All the duck kind waddle; +divers and auks walk as if fettered, and stand erect, on +their tails. Geese and cranes, and most wild fowls, move +in figured flights, often changing their position.</p> + +<div class="signature">—<i>From "The Natural History of Selbourne," by Gilbert White.</i></div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE ORIGIN OF RIVERS.</h2> + +<p>Let us trace a river to its source. Beginning where it +empties itself into the sea, and following it backwards, +we find it from time to time joined by tributaries which +swell its waters. The river of course becomes smaller as +these tributaries are passed. It shrinks first to a brook, +then to a stream; this again divides +itself into a number of smaller streamlets, +ending in mere threads of water. +These constitute the source of +the river, and are usually found +among hills.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0202-illus.jpg" id="p0202-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0202-illus.jpg" width="200" height="249" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">John Tyndall.</p> +</div> +<p>Thus, the Severn has its source +in the Welsh mountains; the +Thames in the Cotswold Hills; +the Missouri in the Rocky Mountains; +and the Amazon in the +Andes of Peru.</p> + +<p>But it is quite plain that we have +not yet reached the real beginning +of the rivers. Whence do the earliest streams derive +their water? A brief residence among the mountains +would prove to you that they are fed by rains. In dry +weather you would find the streams feeble, sometimes, +indeed, quite dried up. In wet weather you would see +them foaming torrents. In general these streams lose +themselves as little threads of water upon the hillsides; +but sometimes you may trace a river to a definite spring. +But you very soon assure yourself that such springs are + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +also fed by rain, which has percolated through the rocks +or soil, and which, through some orifice that it has found +or formed, comes to the light of day.</p> + +<p>But we can not end here. Whence comes the rain that +forms the mountain streams? Observation enables you +to answer the question. Rain does not come from a clear +sky. It comes from clouds.</p> + +<p>But what are clouds? Is there nothing you are acquainted +with which they resemble? You discover at +once a likeness between them and the condensed steam +of a locomotive. At every puff of the engine a cloud is +projected into the air.</p> + +<p>Watch the cloud sharply. You notice that it first +forms at a little distance from the top of the funnel. +Give close attention and you will sometimes see a perfectly +clear space between the funnel and the cloud. +Through that clear space the thing which makes the +cloud must pass. What then is this thing which at one +moment is transparent and invisible, and at the next +moment visible as a dense opaque cloud?</p> + +<p>It is the <i>steam</i> or <i>vapor of water</i> from the boiler. +Within the boiler this steam is transparent and invisible; +but to keep it in this invisible state a heat would be +required as great as that within the boiler. When the +vapor mingles with the cold air above the hot funnel, it +ceases to be vapor. Every bit of steam shrinks, when +chilled, to a much more minute particle of water. The +liquid particles thus produced form a kind of <i>water dust</i> +of exceeding fineness, which floats in the air, and is called +a <i>cloud</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> + Watch the cloud banner from the funnel of a running +locomotive: you see it growing gradually less dense. It +finally melts away altogether, and, if you continue your +observations, you will not fail to notice that the speed of +its disappearance depends on the character of the day. +In moist weather the cloud hangs long and lazily in the +air; in dry weather it is rapidly licked up. What has +become of it? It has been reconverted into true invisible +vapor. The <i>drier</i> the air, and the <i>hotter</i> the air, the +greater is the amount of cloud which can be thus dissolved +in it.</p> + +<p>Make the lid of a kettle air-tight, and permit the steam +to issue from the spout; a cloud is formed in all respects +similar to that which issues from the funnel of the locomotive. +To produce the cloud, in the case of the locomotive +and the kettle, <i>heat</i> is necessary. By heating the +water we first convert it into steam, and then by chilling +the steam we convert it into cloud. Is there any fire in +nature which produces the clouds of our atmosphere? +There is—the fire of the sun.</p> + +<p>By tracing the course of a river, we find that both +its beginning and its ending are in the sea. All its water +is derived from the sea, and to the sea it returns its +floods. But if we seek for its causes, we find that its +beginning and its ending are in the sun. For it is the +fire of the sun that produces the clouds from which the +water of the river is derived, and it is the same fire of +the sun that dries up its stream.</p> + +<div class="signature">—<i>Adapted from "Forms of Water in Clouds and Rivers," +by John Tyndall.</i></div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p> +<h2>ADDRESS OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN</h2> + +<h3>AT THE DEDICATION OF GETTYSBURG CEMETERY, THE 19TH<br /> +OF NOVEMBER, 1863.</h3> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0205-illus.jpg" id="p0205-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0205-illus.jpg" width="200" height="203" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Abraham Lincoln.</p> +</div> +<p>Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought +forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, +and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created +equal. Now we are engaged in a +great civil war, testing whether that +nation, or any nation so conceived +and so dedicated, can long endure. +We are met on a great +battlefield of the war. We +have come to dedicate a portion +of that field as a final +resting place for those who +here gave their lives that +their nation might live. It +is altogether fitting and proper +that we should do this.</p> + +<p>But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate, we can not +consecrate, we can not hallow this ground. The brave +men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated +it far above our power to add or detract. The world +will little note, nor long remember, what we say here, but +it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the +living, rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work +which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. +It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the +great task remaining before us—that from these honored + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> +dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which +they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here +highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that +this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of +freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, +for the people, shall not perish from the earth.</p> + + +<hr /> +<h2>THE AMERICAN FLAG.</h2> + +<div class="figleft2" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0206-illus.jpg" id="p0206-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0206-illus.jpg" width="200" height="202" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Joseph Rodman Drake.</p> +</div> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When Freedom, from her mountain height,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unfurled her standard to the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She tore the azure robe of night,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And set the stars of glory there;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She mingled with its gorgeous dyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The milky baldric of the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And striped its pure, celestial white<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With streakings of the morning light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then from his mansion in the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She called her eagle bearer down,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gave into his mighty hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The symbol of her chosen land.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sign of hope and triumph high!<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> + <span class="i0">When speaks the signal trumpet tone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the long line comes gleaming on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Ere yet the life blood, warm and wet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has dimmed the glistening bayonet),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each soldier's eye shall brightly turn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To where thy sky-born glories burn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as his springing steps advance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Catch war and vengeance from thy glance.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when the cannon mouthings loud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heave in wild wreaths the battle shroud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gory sabers rise and fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then shall thy meteor glances glow,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And cowering foes shall sink beneath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each gallant arm that strikes below<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That lovely messenger of death.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flag of the seas! on ocean's wave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When death, careering on the gale,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And frighted waves rush wildly back<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before the broadside's reeling rack,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each dying wanderer of the sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall look at once to heaven and thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And smile to see thy splendors fly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In triumph o'er his closing eye.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Flag of the free heart's hope and home,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By angel hands to valor given,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy stars have lit the welkin dome,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> + <span class="i1">And all thy hues were born in heaven.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forever float that standard sheet!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Where breathes the foe, but falls before us,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Freedom's soil beneath our feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us!<br /></span> +<div class="signature2">—<i>Joseph Rodman Drake.</i></div> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<h2>THE LAST FIGHT IN THE COLISEUM,<br /> +A.D. 404.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0208-illus.jpg" id="p0208-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0208-illus.jpg" width="200" height="206" alt="Author's portrait" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">Charlotte M. Yonge.</p> +</div> +<p>The grandest and most renowned of all ancient amphitheaters +is the Coliseum at Rome. It was built by +Vespasian and his son Titus, the conquerors of Jerusalem, +in a valley in the midst of the seven +hills of Rome. The captive Jews +were forced to labor at it; and the +materials—granite outside, and a +softer stone within—are so +solid, and so admirably put +together, that still, at the end +of eighteen centuries, it has +scarcely even become a ruin, +but remains one of the greatest +wonders of Rome. Five acres of +ground were inclosed within the +oval of its outer wall, which outside +rises perpendicularly in tiers of arches one above another. +Within, the galleries of seats projected forwards, each +tier coming out far beyond the one above it; so that + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> +between the lowest and the outer wall there was room +for a great variety of chambers, passages, and vaults +around the central space, called the arena.</p> + +<p>Altogether, when full, this huge building held no fewer +than 87,000 spectators! It had no roof; but when there +was rain, or if the sun was too hot, the sailors in the +porticoes unfurled awnings that ran along upon ropes, and +formed a covering of silk and gold tissue over the whole. +Purple was the favorite color for this veil, because, +when the sun shone through it, it cast such beautiful rosy +tints on the snowy arena and the white purple-edged togas +of the Roman citizens.</p> + +<p>When the emperor had seated himself and given the +signal, the sports began. Sometimes a rope dancing elephant +would begin the entertainment, by mounting even +to the summit of the building and descending by a cord. +Or a lion came forth with a jeweled crown on his head, a +diamond necklace round his neck, his mane plaited with +gold, and his claws gilded, and played a hundred pretty +gentle antics with a little hare that danced fearlessly +within his grasp.</p> + +<p>Sometimes water was let into the arena, a ship sailed +in, and falling to pieces in the midst, sent a crowd of +strange animals swimming in all directions. Sometimes +the ground opened, and trees came growing up through +it, bearing golden fruit. Or the beautiful old tale of +Orpheus was acted: these trees would follow the harp +and song of a musician; but—to make the whole part +complete—it was no mere play, but in real earnest, that +the Orpheus of the piece fell a prey to live bears.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> + For the Coliseum had not been built for such harmless +spectacles as those first described. The fierce Romans +wanted to be excited and to feel themselves strongly +stirred; and, presently, the doors of the pits and dens +around the arena were thrown open, and absolutely savage +beasts were let loose upon one another—rhinoceroses +and tigers, bulls and lions, leopards and wild boars—while +the people watched with ferocious curiosity to see +the various kinds of attack and defense, their ears at the +same time being delighted, instead of horror-struck, by +the roars and howls of the noble creatures whose +courage was thus misused.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> + <a name="p0210-illus.jpg" id="p0210-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0210-illus.jpg" width="200" height="119" alt="A Roman ruin" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">The Coliseum at the Present Day.</p> +</div> +<p>Wild beasts tearing each +other to pieces might, one +would think, satisfy any +taste for horror; but the +spectators needed even +nobler game to be set +before their favorite monsters:—men +were brought +forward to confront them. Some of these were, at first, +in full armor, and fought hard, generally with success. +Or hunters came, almost unarmed, and gained the victory +by swiftness and dexterity, throwing a piece of cloth +over a lion's head, or disconcerting him by putting their +fist down his throat. But it was not only skill, but +death, that the Romans loved to see; and condemned +criminals and deserters were reserved to feast the lions, +and to entertain the populace with their various kinds of +death. Among those condemned was many a Christian + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]<br />[Pg 212]</a></span> +martyr, who witnessed a good confession before the savage-eyed +multitude around the arena, and "met the lion's gory +mane" with a calm resolution and a hopeful joy that the +lookers-on could not understand. To see a Christian die, +with upward gaze, and hymns of joy on his tongue, was +the most strange and unaccountable sight the Coliseum +could offer; and it was therefore the choicest, and reserved +for the last of the spectacles in which the brute creation +had a part.</p> + +<p>The carcasses were dragged off with hooks, the bloodstained +sand was covered with a fresh green layer, perfume +was wafted in stronger clouds, and a procession +come forward—tall, well-made men, in the prime of their +strength. Some carried a sword and a lasso, others a +trident and a net; some were in light armor, others in +the full, heavy equipment of a soldier; some on horseback, +some in chariots, some on foot. They marched in, +and made their obeisance to the emperor; and with one +voice their greeting sounded through the building: "Hail, +Cæsar; those about to die salute thee!" They were the +gladiators—the swordsmen trained to fight to the death +to amuse the populace.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> + <a name="p0212-illus.jpg" id="p0212-illus.jpg"></a> + <img src="images/p0212-illus.jpg" width="500" height="286" alt="Victims in the arena" title="" /> + <p class="caption2">From the Painting by J. L. Gerome. Engraved by Henry Wolf.<br /> + The Last Prayer—Christian Martyrs in the Coliseum.</p> +</div> + +<p>Fights of all sorts took place,—the light-armed soldier +and the netsman—the lasso and the javelin—the two +heavy-armed warriors,—all combinations of single combat, +and sometimes a general mêlée. When a gladiator +wounded his adversary, he shouted to the spectators, "He +has it!" and looked up to know whether he should kill +or spare. When the people held up their thumbs, the +conquered was left to recover, if he could; if they turned + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> +them down, he was to die; and if he showed any reluctance +to present his throat for the deathblow, there was a scornful +shout, "Receive the steel!"</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"I see before me the gladiator lie:<br /></span> +<span class="i3">He leans upon his hand; his manly brow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Consents to death, but conquers agony;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And his drooped head sinks gradually low;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The arena swims around him—he is gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won."<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Christianity, however, worked its way upwards, and at +last was professed by the emperor on his throne. Persecution +came to an end, and no more martyrs fed the +beasts in the Coliseum. The Christian emperors endeavored +to prevent any more shows where cruelty and death +formed the chief interest, and no truly religious person +could endure the spectacle; but custom and love of excitement +prevailed even against the emperor. They +went on for fully a hundred years after Rome had, in +name, become a Christian city.</p> + +<p>Meantime the enemies of Rome were coming nearer +and nearer. Alaric, the great chief of the Goths, led his +forces into Italy, and threatened the city itself. Honorius, +the emperor, was a cowardly, almost idiotic boy; +but his brave general, Stilicho, assembled his forces, met + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> +the Goths, and gave them a complete defeat, on Easter +day of the year 403. He pursued them to the mountains, +and for that time saved Rome.</p> + +<p>In the joy of victory, the Roman Senate invited the +conqueror and his ward Honorius to enter the city in +triumph, at the opening of the new year, with the white +steeds, purple robes, and vermilion cheeks with which, of +old, victorious generals were welcomed at Rome. The +churches were visited instead of the Temple of Jupiter, +and there was no murder of the captives; but Roman +bloodthirstiness was not yet allayed, and, after the procession +had been completed, the Coliseum shows commenced, +innocently at first, with races on foot, on horseback, +and in chariots; then followed a grand hunt of +beasts turned loose in the arena; and next a sword dance. +But after the sword dance came the arraying of swordsmen, +with no blunted weapons, but with sharp spears and +swords—a gladiator combat in full earnest. The people, +enchanted, applauded with shouts of ecstasy this gratification +of their savage tastes.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, however, there was an interruption. A +rude, roughly robed man, bareheaded and barefooted, had +sprung into the arena, and, waving back the gladiators, +began to call aloud upon the people to cease from the +shedding of innocent blood, and not to requite God's +mercy, in turning away the sword of the enemy, by encouraging +murder. Shouts, howls, cries, broke in upon +his words; this was no place for preachings,—the old +customs of Rome should be observed,—"Back, old man!"—"On, +gladiators!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> + The gladiators thrust aside the meddler, and rushed to +the attack. He still stood between, holding them apart, +striving in vain to be heard. "Sedition! sedition!"—"Down +with him!"—was the cry; and the prefect in +authority himself added his voice. The gladiators, enraged +at interference with their vocation, cut him down. +Stones, or whatever came to hand, rained upon him from +the furious people, and he perished in the midst of the +arena! He lay dead; and then the people began to +reflect upon what had been done.</p> + +<p>His dress showed that he was one of the hermits who +had vowed themselves to a life of prayer and self-denial, +and who were greatly reverenced, even by the most +thoughtless. The few who had previously seen him, +told that he had come from the wilds of Asia on a pilgrimage, +to visit the shrines and keep his Christmas at +Rome. They knew that he was a holy man—no more. +But his spirit had been stirred by the sight of thousands +flocking to see men slaughter one another, and in his simple-hearted +zeal he had resolved to stop the cruelty, or die.</p> + +<p>He had died, but not in vain. His work was done. +The shock of such a death before their eyes turned the +hearts of the people; they saw the wickedness and +cruelty to which they had blindly surrendered themselves; +and since the day when the hermit died in the +Coliseum, there has never been another fight of gladiators. +The custom was utterly abolished; and one habitual +crime at least was wiped from the earth by the self-devotion +of one humble, obscure, and nameless man.</p> + +<div class="signature">—<i>From "A Book of Golden Deeds," by Charlotte Yonge.</i></div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE PASSING OF ARTHUR.</h2> + +<p>The reader has already become somewhat acquainted with +the marvelous history of King Arthur, and has read about the +poems and romances by which the memory of his life and +exploits have been preserved. He has also read the mythical +account of the King's last hours on earth as recorded in the +quaint old romance written by Sir Thomas Malory. Here he +may read another rendering of the same story, written in +grand and beautiful poetic form by Alfred Tennyson. In +the "Idylls of the King," Lord Tennyson has given us a +complete history of Arthur and of the brave knights and fair +ladies who lived at his court. These poems are among the +noblest ever written in our language. Turn now to the last +story in "School Reading by Grades—Fifth Year," and compare +each passage in that brief narrative with its corresponding +passage in the following poem.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">So all day long the noise of battle roll'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the mountains by the winter sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until King Arthur's Table, man by man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had fall'n in Lyonesse about their lord,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">King Arthur. Then, because his wound was deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bold Sir Bedivere uplifted him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir Bedivere, the last of all his knights,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bore him to a chapel nigh the field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A broken chancel with a broken cross,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That stood on a dark strait of barren land.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On one side lay the Ocean, and on one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lay a great water, and the moon was full.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> + <span class="i0">"The sequel of to-day unsolders all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The goodliest fellowship of famous knights<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereof this world holds record. Such a sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They sleep—the men I loved. I think that we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall never more, at any future time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Delight our souls with talk of knightly deeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Walking about the gardens and the halls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Camelot, as in the days that were.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I perish by this people which I made,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' Merlin sware that I should come again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To rule once more; but let what will be, be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am so deeply smitten thro' the helm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That without help I can not last till morn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou therefore take my brand Excalibur,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which was my pride: for thou rememberest how<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In those old days, one summer noon, an arm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rose up from out the bosom of the lake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holding the sword—and how I row'd across<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And took it, and have worn it, like a king:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, wheresoever I am sung or told<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In after time, this also shall be known:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now delay not: take Excalibur,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fling him far into the middle mere;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watch what thou seëst and lightly bring me word."<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To him replied the bold Sir Bedivere:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It is not meet, Sir King, to leave thee thus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aidless, alone, and smitten thro' the helm.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A little thing may harm a wounded man.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet I thy hest will all perform at full,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Watch what I see, and lightly bring thee word."<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So saying, from the ruin'd shrine he stept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the moon athwart the place of tombs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where lay the mighty bones of ancient men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old knights, and over them the sea wind sang<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrill, chill, with flakes of foam. He, stepping down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By zigzag paths, and juts of pointed rock,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came on the shining levels of the lake.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There drew he forth the brand Excalibur,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o'er him, drawing it, the winter moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brightening the skirts of a long cloud, ran forth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sparkled keen with frost against the hilt:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For all the haft twinkled with diamond sparks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Myriads of topaz lights, and jacinth work<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of subtlest jewelry. He gazed so long<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That both his eyes were dazzled, as he stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This way and that dividing the swift mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In act to throw: but at the last it seem'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Better to leave Excalibur conceal'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There in the many-knotted waterflags,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That whistled stiff and dry about the marge.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So strode he back slow to the wounded King.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Hast thou perform'd my mission which I gave?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I heard the ripple washing in the reeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the wild water lapping on the crag."<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To whom replied King Arthur, faint and pale:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Thou hast betray'd thy nature and thy name,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Not rendering true answer, as beseem'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy fëalty, nor like a noble knight:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For surer sign had follow'd, either hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or voice, or else a motion of the mere.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is a shameful thing for men to lie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet now I charge thee, quickly go again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As thou art lief and dear, and do the thing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bade thee, watch, and lightly bring me word."<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then went Sir Bedivere the second time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the ridge, and paced beside the mere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Counting the dewy pebbles, fix'd in thought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when he saw the wonder of the hilt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How curiously and strangely chased, he smote<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His palms together, and he cried aloud:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"And if indeed I cast the brand away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surely a precious thing, one worthy note,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should thus be lost for ever from the earth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which might have pleased the eyes of many men.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What good should follow this, if this were done?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What harm, undone? deep harm to disobey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seeing obedience is the bond of rule.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were it well to obey then, if a king demand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An act unprofitable, against himself?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The King is sick, and knows not what he does.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What record, or what relic of my lord<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should be to after time, but empty breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rumors of a doubt? but were this kept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stored in some treasure-house of mighty kings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some one might show it at a joust of arms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saying, 'King Arthur's sword, Excalibur,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Wrought by the lonely maiden of the Lake.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nine years she wrought it, sitting in the deeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the hidden bases of the hills.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So might some old man speak in the after time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To all the people, winning reverence.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now much honor and much fame were lost."<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So spake he, clouded with his own conceit,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hid Excalibur the second time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so strode back slow to the wounded King.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then spoke King Arthur, breathing heavily:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I heard the water lapping on the crag,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the long ripple washing in the reeds."<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To whom replied King Arthur, much in wrath:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ah, miserable and unkind, untrue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unknightly, traitor-hearted! Woe is me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Authority forgets a dying king,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laid widow'd of the power in his eye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That bow'd the will. I see thee what thou art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thou, the latest-left of all my knights,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In whom should meet the offices of all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou wouldst betray me for the precious hilt;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Either from lust of gold, or like a girl<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Valuing the giddy pleasure of the eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, for a man may fail in duty twice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the third time may prosper, get thee hence:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, if thou spare to fling Excalibur,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will arise and slay thee with my hands."<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then quickly rose Sir Bedivere, and ran,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> + <span class="i0">And, leaping down the ridges lightly, plunged<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the bulrush beds, and clutch'd the sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And strongly wheel'd and threw it. The great brand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made lightnings in the splendor of the moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And flashing round and round, and whirl'd in an arch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shot like a streamer of the northern morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seen where the moving isles of winter shock<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By night, with noises of the Northern Sea.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So flash'd and fell the brand Excalibur:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ere he dipt the surface, rose an arm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And caught him by the hilt, and brandish'd him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three times, and drew him under in the mere.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lightly went the other to the King.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then spoke King Arthur, drawing thicker breath:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Now see I by thine eyes that this is done.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speak out: what is it thou hast heard, or seen?"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Sir King, I closed mine eyelids, lest the gems<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should blind my purpose, for I never saw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor shall see, here or elsewhere, till I die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not tho' I live three lives of mortal men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So great a miracle as yonder hilt.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then with both hands I flung him, wheeling him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when I look'd again, behold an arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That caught him by the hilt, and brandish'd him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three times and drew him under in the mere."<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And answer made King Arthur, breathing hard:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"My end draws nigh; 'tis time that I were gone.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Make broad thy shoulders to receive my weight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bear me to the margin; yet I fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My wound hath taken cold, and I shall die."<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So saying, from the pavement he half rose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slowly, with pain, reclining on his arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And looking wistfully with wide blue eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As in a picture. Him Sir Bedivere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remorsefully regarded thro' his tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And would have spoken, but he found not words;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then took with care, and kneeling on one knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er both his shoulders drew the languid hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And rising bore him thro' the place of tombs.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But, as he walk'd, King Arthur panted hard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like one that feels a nightmare on his bed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When all the house is mute. So sigh'd the King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Muttering and murmuring at his ear, "Quick, quick!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fear it is too late, and I shall die."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the other swiftly strode from ridge to ridge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clothed with his breath, and looking as he walk'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Larger than human on the frozen hills.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He heard the deep behind him, and a cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before. His own thought drove him, like a goad.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dry clash'd his harness in the icy caves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And barren chasms, and all to left and right<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bare black cliff clang'd round him, as he based<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His feet on jets of slippery crag that rang<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on a sudden, lo! the level lake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the long glories of the winter moon.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then saw they how there hove a dusky barge,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> + <span class="i0">Dark as a funeral scarf from stem to stern,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath them; and descending they were ware<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That all the decks were dense with stately forms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Black-stoled, black-hooded, like a dream—by these<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three Queens with crowns of gold—and from them rose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A cry that shiver'd to the tingling stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as it were one voice, an agony<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of lamentation, like a wind, that shrills<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All night in a waste land, where no one comes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or hath come, since the making of the world.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then murmur'd Arthur, "Place me in the barge."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So to the barge they came. There those three Queens<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Put forth their hands, and took the King, and wept....<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then loudly cried the bold Sir Bedivere:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ah! my Lord Arthur, whither shall I go?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where shall I hide my forehead and my eyes?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For now I see the true old times are dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When every morning brought a noble chance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every chance brought out a noble knight....<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now the whole Round Table is dissolved<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which was an image of the mighty world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I, the last, go forth companionless,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the days darken round me, and the years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among new men, strange faces, other minds."<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And slowly answered Arthur from the barge:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The old order changeth, yielding place to new,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And God fulfills himself in many ways,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest one good custom should corrupt the world.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comfort thyself; what comfort is in me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have lived my life, and that which I have done<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> + <span class="i0">May He within himself make pure! but thou,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou shouldst never see my face again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rise like a fountain for me night and day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For what are men better than sheep or goats<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That nourish a blind life within the brain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both for themselves and those who call them friends?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For so the whole round earth is every way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now farewell. I am going a long way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With these thou seëst—if indeed I go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(For all my mind is clouded with a doubt)—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the island-valley of Avilion<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where I will heal me of my grievous wound."<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So said he, and the barge with oar and sail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moved from the brink, like some full-breasted swan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, fluting a wild carol ere her death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With swarthy webs. Long stood Sir Bedivere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Revolving many memories, till the hull<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look'd one black dot against the verge of dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the mere the wailing died away.<br /></span> +<div class="signature2">—<i>From "The Idylls of the King," by Alfred Tennyson.</i></div> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> +<h2>FOR STUDY AND REFERENCE.</h2> + +<hr class="hr2" /> +<h3>PRINCIPLES OF GOOD READING.</h3> + +<p>To become a good reader, patient and long-continued practice +is necessary. We learn to read by much reading and +never by the study of formal rules. Nevertheless, a knowledge +of the following general principles and definitions may +be of some value in assisting the learner to acquire correct +habits in the practice of oral reading.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Pronunciation.</span></h4> + +<p>Under this term are included Articulation, Syllabication, +and Accent.</p> + +<p>Correct articulation requires that each letter, syllable, and +word should be clearly and properly pronounced. Incorrect +articulation is the result either of careless habits or of natural +defects. In either case, it may be largely overcome by persistent +and careful drill in the pronunciation of those words +in which the greatest difficulty is experienced. Conversation, +declamation, calisthenics, singing, and similar exercises should +be engaged in, in order to assist in overcoming habits of +timidity or diffidence, and to give increased power and flexibility +to the vocal organs.</p> + +<p>Syllabication and accent are learned by careful observation +and by reference, in all cases of doubt, to some standard +dictionary.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Expression.</span></h4> + +<p>Correct expression in reading has reference to tone of voice, +inflection, pitch, emphasis, all of which are included under +modulation.</p> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p> +<h4><span class="smcap">Tone.</span></h4> + +<p>Tone, or quality of voice, is the kind of sound employed in +reading or speaking. A conversational tone is such as is used +in ordinary conversation for the expression of quiet or unemotional +thoughts. A full tone of voice is used in the expression +of high or lofty sentiments, and of feelings of joy, courage, or +exultation. A middle tone is used in the rendering of expressions +which while not conversational in character are too unimpassioned +to require a full tone. A low or subdued tone +is used in passages where the sense requires a suppression of +sound. The only rule necessary is this: <i>Study so to regulate +the tone of voice that it shall always be in harmony with the +thoughts expressed.</i></p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Inflection.</span></h4> + +<p>Inflection is the upward or downward movement of the +voice in speaking or reading. There are two inflections: +the <i>rising inflection</i>, in which the voice slides upward; and the +<i>falling inflection</i>, in which the voice slides downward. Sometimes +there is a union of the two inflections upon a single +sound or syllable, in order to express surprise, scorn, irony, +sorrow, or other strong or peculiar emotion. This union of +inflections is called <i>circumflex</i>. No rule for inflections can be +given which is not subject to numerous exceptions. The movement +of the voice, whether upward or downward, is in all cases +determined by the thought in the sentence. <i>That inflection +should be used which will assist to convey, in the most natural +and forcible manner, the meaning intended by the author.</i></p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Pitch.</span></h4> + +<p>Very closely related to tone and inflection is pitch, by which +is meant the degree of elevation of the voice. Pitch may be +<i>middle</i>, <i>high</i>, or <i>low</i>. Middle pitch is that which is used in +common conversation and in the expression of unemotional + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +thoughts. Light and joyous emotions and lively narration +require a high pitch. Passages expressing sadness, deep joy, +dignified serenity of mind, and kindred emotions, require a +low pitch. Hence, the only rule to be observed is this: <i>Let +the pitch be always in harmony with the sentiments to be expressed.</i></p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Emphasis.</span></h4> + +<p>Emphasis is any change of pitch, or variation of the voice, +which serves to call special attention to an important word, +syllable, or expression. The only rule that can be given for +securing correctness of emphasis is: <i>Be natural.</i> Children, in +ordinary conversation, never make mistakes in emphasis. If +they are made to understand what they are reading, have not +been permitted to imitate incorrect models, and are not hampered +by unnecessary rules, they will read as well as they +talk. Let reading be but conversation from the book, and not +only emphasis, but pitch and inflection will require but little +separate attention, and no special rules.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Pauses.</span></h4> + +<p>Pauses in reading are necessary to make the meaning clear +or to assist in the proper modulation of the voice and therefore +in the correct rendering of the sentiments of the author. The +former are called grammatical pauses, and are indicated by the +marks of punctuation; the latter are called rhetorical pauses, +and depend for their correct usage upon the reader's understanding +of the thoughts which he is endeavoring to render. +In reading poetry, a slight pause is generally proper at the +end of each line, and sometimes also at the middle of each +line. The latter is called the <i>cæsural</i> pause. The object of +poetic pauses is simply to promote the melody.</p> + + +<hr class="hr2" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p> +<h3>AUTHORS AND BOOKS.</h3> + +<p><b>Abbott, Charles Conrad</b>, the author of the essay on "The +Robin" (page <a href="#Page_197">197</a>), is an American writer and naturalist. He +was born at Trenton, N. J., in 1843. He is an ardent lover of +nature, and has written several delightful books on subjects +relating to popular science and outdoor life. Among these are +"Birdland Echoes," from which the above-named essay is +taken; "A Naturalist's Wanderings about Home," and +"Waste Land Wanderings."</p> + +<p><b>Aytoun</b> (ā´toon), <b>William Edmonstoune</b>, the author of the +selection entitled "The Pass of Killiecrankie" (page <a href="#Page_138">138</a>), was +a Scottish lawyer and poet. Born in Edinburgh, 1813; died, +1865. He was for many years one of the editors of "Blackwood's +Magazine." He wrote "Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers," +"Ballads of Scotland," and other poems.</p> + +<p><b>Blackmore, Richard D.</b>, the author of "Lorna Doone," is an +English lawyer and novelist. Born in Berkshire, 1825. Besides +"Lorna Doone," he has written "Alice Lorraine," +"Springhaven," "The Maid of Sker," and several other stories.</p> + +<p><b>Browning, Mrs. Elizabeth Barrett</b>, the author of "The Romance +of the Swan's Nest" (page <a href="#Page_98">98</a>), was an English poet. +Born in Durham, England, 1806. In 1846 she married Robert +Browning, and during the rest of her life resided chiefly at +Florence, Italy, where she died in 1861. She wrote "Prometheus +Bound" (1833), "Aurora Leigh" (1857), and many +shorter poems.</p> + +<p><b>Bryant, William Cullen</b>, the author of "The Death of the +Flowers" (page <a href="#Page_18">18</a>), was one of the most popular of American +poets. Born at Cummington, Mass., 1794; died at New York, +1878. Besides his poems, he wrote translations of Homer's +"Iliad" and "Odyssey," and was for more than half a century +one of the editors of "The Evening Post" (New York).</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> + <b>Buckley, Arabella Burton</b>, is an English author and naturalist. +Born at Brighton, England, 1840. She has written several +books on scientific subjects for young readers: "The Fairy +Land of Science," from which our selection is taken (page <a href="#Page_29">29</a>), +"Winners in Life's Race," and "Life and her Children."</p> + +<p><b>Campbell, Thomas</b>: A British poet and critic. Born at Glasgow, +Scotland, 1777; died, 1844. He wrote "The Pleasures +of Hope," "Hohenlinden," "Lochiel's Warning," and many +other well-known poems.</p> + +<p>"<b>Cloister and the Hearth, The</b>": An historical romance, by +Charles Reade, first published in 1861. The scenes are laid +mostly in Holland and Italy, and the time is the middle of the +fifteenth century. See page <a href="#Page_153">153</a>.</p> + +<p><b>Collier, W. F.</b>, author of the sketch on "Life in Norman +England" (page <a href="#Page_89">89</a>), is an English historian. He has written +"The History of the British Empire," "A History of England," +and several other similar works.</p> + +<p><b>Cowper, William</b>: A celebrated English poet. Born, 1731; +died, 1800. His principal work was "The Task," from which +our brief selection (page <a href="#Page_196">196</a>) has been taken. He wrote also +"John Gilpin," "Tirocinium," and several other poems.</p> + +<p>"<b>David Copperfield, The Personal History of</b>": A novel, by +Charles Dickens, first published in 1849. "Of all my books," +says Dickens, "I like this the best." Many scenes in the +novelist's own life are depicted in this story. The character +from whom the book took its name is a timid boy reduced to +desperation by the cruelty of his stepfather, Mr. Murdstone. +At ten years of age he is sent to a warehouse in London, +where he was employed in rough work at a small salary. He +finally runs away, and is protected and adopted by an eccentric +maiden lady, Miss Betsey Trotwood. He becomes a writer, +and marries a gentle, innocent little lady, whom he calls his +"child wife"; she dies, and he afterwards marries a woman of + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> +stronger mind, named Agnes Wickfield. The selection which +we give (page <a href="#Page_121">121</a>) is a fair example of the style which characterizes +the story.</p> + +<p><b>Dickens, Charles</b>: The most popular of English novelists. +Born, 1812; died, 1870. Wrote "The Pickwick Papers," +"Nicholas Nickleby," "Oliver Twist," "David Copperfield," +from which our story of "The Shipwreck" (page <a href="#Page_121">121</a>) has been +taken, and numerous other works of fiction.</p> + +<p><b>Drake, Joseph Rodman</b>, author of "The American Flag" +(page <a href="#Page_206">206</a>), was an American poet. Born at New York, 1795; +died, 1820. His principal work was "The Culprit Fay," +written in 1816.</p> + +<p><b>Everett, Edward</b>: An American statesman and orator. Born +at Boston, Mass., 1794; died, 1865. He was editor of the +"North American Review," member of Congress, Governor of +Massachusetts, President of Harvard College, Secretary of +State in the cabinet of Millard Fillmore, and United States +Senator from Massachusetts. His orations and speeches fill +four volumes.</p> + +<p><b>Froude, James Anthony</b>: A noted English historian. Born, +1818; died, 1894. His chief work was a "History of England +from the Fall of Wolsey to the Defeat of the Spanish +Armada." He also wrote four volumes of "Short Studies on +Great Subjects," "Cæsar, a Sketch," "Life of Lord Beaconsfield," +"Life of Carlyle," etc.</p> + +<p><b>Hemans, Mrs. Felicia</b>: An English poet. Born at Liverpool, +1793; died, 1835. She wrote numerous short poems, which +were at one time very popular. She is best remembered in +this country as the author of "The Landing of the Pilgrims" +(page <a href="#Page_195">195</a>), "Casabianca," and similar pieces.</p> + +<p><b>Hogg, James</b>: A Scottish poet, often called from his occupation +the Ettrick Shepherd. Born, 1770; died, 1835. Among + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> +his poems are "The Queen's Wake" (1813), "The Pilgrims of +the Sun" (1815), and many short pieces.</p> + +<p><b>Howells, William Dean</b>: An American novelist and poet. +Born at Martinsville, Ohio, 1837. He was for ten years editor +of the "Atlantic Monthly." He has written numerous novels, +several short comedies or farces, and a volume of poetry. Our +selection is from one of his latest works, "Stories of Ohio," a +series of sketches relating to the settlement and early history +of that commonwealth.</p> + +<p><b>Hunt, James Henry Leigh</b>, author of the poem entitled "The +Glove and the Lions" (page <a href="#Page_119">119</a>), was an English essayist and +poet. Born, 1784; died, 1859. His chief poem is "The Story +of Rimini"; his principal prose works are "Life of Lord +Byron" (1828), and "Autobiography" (1850).</p> + +<p>"<b>Idylls of the King</b>": The first part of this noble poem by +Lord Tennyson appeared in 1859, and the remaining parts +were issued at various intervals until its completion. It comprises +twelve books, or poems, which should be read in the +following order: "The Coming of Arthur," "Gareth and +Lynette," "The Marriage of Geraint," "Geraint and Enid," +"Balin and Balan," "Merlin and Vivien," "Lancelot and +Elaine," "The Holy Grail," "Pelleas and Etarre," "The Last +Tournament," "Guinevere," "The Passing of Arthur." Taken +together in this order, these various poems present a complete +and connected history of King Arthur and his knights. See +page <a href="#Page_216">216</a>.</p> + +<p><b>Ingelow</b> (in´je lō), <b>Jean</b>: An English poet and novelist. Born +at Boston, Lincolnshire, 1830; died, 1897. Wrote "Off the +Skelligs," "Fated to be Free," "A Motto Changed," several +children's books, and numerous poems.</p> + +<p><b>Irving, Washington</b>: An eminent American writer. Born, +1783; died, 1859. His principal works are "Columbus and +his Companions" (from which the extract beginning on page + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +<a href="#Page_25">25</a> is taken), "The Sketch Book," "Tales of a Traveler" +(1824), "The Conquest of Granada" (1829), "The Alhambra" +(1832), "Oliver Goldsmith" (1849), "Mahomet and His Successors" +(1850), "Life of George Washington" (1859).</p> + +<p>"<b>Job, The Book of</b>": One of the books of the Old Testament, +the authorship of which is unknown, but has been +ascribed to various persons and periods of time. It is doubtless +one of the oldest literary productions in our possession, and +may be described as a poetic drama, having a didactic purpose. +The hero of the book is Job, a man of great wealth and prosperity, +who has been suddenly overtaken by misfortune. The +great literary merit of the work is recognized by all scholars.</p> + +<p><b>Johnson, Dr. Samuel</b>: An eminent English essayist, poet, and +lexicographer. Born, 1709; died, 1784. For his biography, see +Macaulay's essay on his life and works in "School Reading by +Grades—Seventh Year."</p> + +<p><b>Jonson, Ben</b>: A celebrated English poet and dramatist. Born, +1573; died, 1637. Among his plays are "Every Man in his +Humour" (1598), "Cynthia's Revels" (1600), "The Alchemist" +(1610), etc.</p> + +<p><b>Kingsley, Charles</b>: An eminent English author and clergyman. +See Biographical Notes in "School Reading by Grades—Fifth +Year."</p> + +<p>"<b>Lays of Ancient Rome</b>": A volume of poems written by +Lord Macaulay and first published in 1842. It includes +"Horatius" (see page <a href="#Page_32">32</a>), "The Battle of Lake Regillus," +"Virginia," and "The Prophecy of Capys."</p> + +<p><b>Lewes</b> (lū´es), <b>George Henry</b>: An English philosophical and +miscellaneous writer. Born at London, 1817; died, 1878. He +wrote "Seaside Studies" (1858), "Studies in Animal Life" +(1862), "Problems of Life and Mind" (1874), and many other +works on scientific and philosophical subjects.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> + <b>Lincoln, Abraham</b>: The sixteenth President of the United +States. Born in Kentucky, 1809; died at Washington, D. C., +1865. The "Address at Gettysburg" (page <a href="#Page_205">205</a>) is generally +conceded to be one of the noblest examples of oratory produced +in modern times.</p> + +<p>"<b>Lorna Doone</b>: a Romance of Exmoor." First published +in 1869. See page <a href="#Page_64">64</a>.</p> + +<p>"<b>Mexico, History of the Conquest of</b>," by William H. Prescott +(see page <a href="#Page_104">104</a>), was first published in 1843. Other works +relating to the same event are "The Spanish Conquest in +America," by Sir Arthur Helps, "The Fair God" (a romance) +by General Lew Wallace.</p> + +<p><b>Prescott, William Hickling</b>: An eminent American historian. +Born at Salem, Mass., 1796; died, 1859. His principal works +are "History of the Reign of Ferdinand and Isabella" (1838), +"Conquest of Mexico" (see note above), "Conquest of Peru" +(1847), "History of Philip II" (1858).</p> + +<p><b>Reade, Charles</b>: A noted English barrister and novelist. +Born in Oxfordshire, 1814; died, 1884. His novels are very +numerous, but the best is "The Cloister and the Hearth," from +which our selection is taken (page <a href="#Page_153">153</a>). Several of his writings +are noted for their strong opposition to social evils.</p> + +<p><b>Scott, Sir Walter.</b> See Biographical Notes in "School Reading +by Grades—Fifth Year."</p> + +<p><b>Stanley, Arthur Penrhyn</b>: An English divine and historian. +Born, 1815; died, 1881. He traveled in Egypt and Palestine +in 1852–53; wrote "Sinai and Palestine" (1856), "Memorials +of Canterbury" (1855), "History of the Jewish Church" +(1865), etc.</p> + +<p><b>Stockton, Frank Richard</b>: A noted American author and +humorist. Born at Philadelphia, 1834. He has written +"Rudder Grange," "The Clocks of Rondaine," "Pomona's + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> +Travels," "Stories of New Jersey," and many other works, +including several books for children.</p> + +<p>"<b>Tales of a Grandfather</b>": A collection of historical stories, +by Sir Walter Scott, first published in four series, 1827–30. +See page <a href="#Page_66">66</a>.</p> + +<p><b>Tennyson, Alfred.</b> See Biographical Notes in "School Reading +by Grades—Fifth Year."</p> + +<p><b>Tyndall, John</b>: An eminent British scientist. Born in Ireland, +1820; died in England, 1893. Among his works are +"The Forms of Water in Clouds and Rivers" (1873) from +which our extract is selected (page <a href="#Page_202">202</a>), "Hours of Exercise +in the Alps" (1871), "Fragments of Science" (1892), and +many other works of a similar character.</p> + +<p>"<b>Westward Ho! or the Voyages and Adventures of Sir Amyas +Leigh</b>": A novel by Charles Kingsley, first published in 1855. +See page <a href="#Page_165">165</a>.</p> + +<p><b>Winthrop, Robert Charles</b>: An American statesman and orator. +Born at Boston, 1809; died, 1894. His most famous addresses +were delivered at the laying of the corner-stone of the Washington +Monument, 1848, and at the completion of the same +monument, 1885.</p> + +<p><b>White, Gilbert</b>: An English clergyman and naturalist, famous +as the author of "Natural History and Antiquities of Selborne" +(1789). He was born at Selborne, 1720; died there, +1793.</p> + +<p><b>Yonge</b> (yung), <b>Charlotte Mary</b>: An English writer and novelist. +Born at Otterbourne, 1823. She has written more than +a hundred volumes, including, "The Heir of Redclyffe," "Daisy +Chain," "Landmarks of History," and "A Book of Golden +Deeds," from which the selection beginning on page <a href="#Page_208">208</a> is +taken.</p> + + +<hr class="hr2" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span></p> +<h3>EXPLANATORY NOTES.</h3> + +<p><b>Page <a href="#Page_20">20</a>.</b> "Straits of Sunda." The passage between the islands of +Java and Sumatra, leading from the Indian Ocean to the Sea of Java. +See a good map of this part of the world.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_25">25</a>.</b> "The Return of Columbus." Returning from his first voyage +(see "School Reading by Grades—Fourth Year," page 43), Columbus +reached Palos, March 15, 1493. The selection here given from Irving describes +his triumphal reception a few weeks later at the court of Ferdinand +and Isabella at Barcelona.</p> + +<p>"Hidalgos." Spanish noblemen of the lower class.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_27">27</a>.</b> "Las Casas." A Spanish historian, born, 1474; died, 1566. He +went to America in 1502, and in 1542 was Bishop of Chiapas in Mexico. +We are indebted to him for some of the earliest trustworthy accounts of +the Spanish discoveries. He was the friend and defender of the Indians +against their European conquerors.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_28">28</a>.</b> "<i>Te Deum laudamus.</i>" "We praise thee, O God."</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_32">32</a>.</b> Tarquin the Proud, or Tarquinius Superbus, reigned, according +to the traditional account, from 534 to 509 <span class="smcap">B.C.</span> The modern name of +Clusium is Chiusi <a name="oo" id="oo"></a>(Kē [=oo]´sē). It is situated in the province of Siena in +Italy, and is famous for its ruins of Etruscan origin.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_33">33</a>.</b> "Consul." After the expulsion of the kings from Rome the +governing power was vested in two consuls, who were elected annually. +At the time of the story, one of the consuls had been slain in battle +with Porsena. Our selection begins with the twenty-sixth stanza of +Macaulay's poem.</p> + +<p>"Ramnian," belonging to the Ramnes, the first of the three tribes +which originally composed the Roman nation. Herminius was a member +of the second tribe, or Tities. The third tribe were the Luceres.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_35">35</a>.</b> For the places mentioned on this and the following pages, see +some good classical atlas.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_36">36</a>.</b> "She-wolf's litter." A reference to the legend that Romulus +and Remus, the founders of Rome, were, when babes, protected and +reared by a she-wolf.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_42">42</a>.</b> "Fathers." The Roman senators.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_44">44</a>.</b> Sir Francis Drake was an English seaman, born about 1540; died, +1596. He was famous for his operations on the sea against the Spaniards +of America, and especially for being the first Englishman to circumnavigate +the globe.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> + <b><a href="#Page_66">66</a>.</b> Bannockburn is the name of a small village three miles south of +Stirling, in Scotland. Robert Bruce, one of the national heroes of Scotland, +was born, 1274; died, 1329. His right to the throne of Scotland was +disputed by Edward I. of England, who claimed the suzerainty of that +country for himself. The war which resulted from this dispute was continued +by Edward II. until he met with the signal defeat here narrated. +Bruce's right to the Scottish throne was formally acknowledged by England +in 1328.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_89">89</a>.</b> "Great stone castles." For a description of the different parts +of a Norman castle mentioned in this selection, see the word "Castle" in +Webster's International Dictionary.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_93">93</a>.</b> "Conquest." The Norman conquest under Duke William, 1066. +See "School Reading by Grades—Fourth Year," page 181.</p> + +<p>"Author of 'Ivanhoe.'" Sir Walter Scott. See "Ivanhoe," Chapter +VIII.</p> + +<p>"Quintain." An upright post, on the top of which turned a cross-piece, +having on one end a broad board and on the other a sandbag. The +endeavor was to strike the board with the lance while riding under it and +get away without being hit by the sandbag.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_96">96</a>.</b> "Scriptorium." A room in a monastery where the monks wrote +or copied manuscripts. See "School Reading by Grades—Fifth Year," +page 170.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_100">100</a>.</b> "Nathless." Nevertheless.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_104">104</a>.</b> Cortés. Hernando Cortés was born in Spain in 1485. In 1504, +at the age of nineteen, he sailed for Santo Domingo, where he was received +with great favor, and where for several years he held important +offices in connection with the government of the new colony. In 1518 +he organized the expedition for the conquest of Mexico. The city was +finally captured, after a gallant defense of 77 days, August 13, 1521. +Utterly neglected and forsaken in his old age, Cortés died at Seville, in +Spain, December 2, 1547.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_106">106</a>.</b> "Palanquin" (păl an kēn´). An inclosed litter, borne on men's +shoulders, for conveying a single person.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_106">106</a>.</b> "Cacique" (kȧ sēk´). A chieftain, or nobleman, among the +Aztecs or Indians.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_107">107</a>.</b> "Panache" (păn ȧsh´). A plume or bunch of feathers. A military +plume.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_109">109</a>.</b> "Tenochtitlan" (ten ōch tēt län´). The Aztec name for their +chief city, the site of which is now occupied by the city of Mexico. It + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> +was founded about two hundred years before the Spanish conquest, and +was built on an island in Tezcuco Lake. The name Mexitl, or Mexico, +was also applied to the city, or to a portion of it.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_110">110</a>.</b> "Bernal Diaz" (dē´äth). A Spanish soldier in the army of +Cortés, who afterwards wrote a history of the conquest.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_111">111</a>.</b> "Montezuma." Cortés repaid this chieftain for his kindness by +seizing him in his own house and carrying him to the Spanish quarters, +where he kept him as a prisoner. The Aztecs attacked the quarters, and +Montezuma, by the direction of Cortés, appeared on the wall to counsel +peace. This so exasperated them that they pelted him with stones, and +wounded him so that he died four days later.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_118">118</a>.</b> "The Lions." Rosa Bonheur, from whose painting this picture +has been reproduced, is one of the most famous painters of the +nineteenth century, especially of animal life and of landscapes. She +was born at Bordeaux, France, in 1828. For nearly fifty years she has +been directress of the Free School of Design for Young Girls in Paris. +Many of her paintings have received high praise, but the one by which +she is best known in this country is "The Horse Fair," in the Metropolitan +Museum of Art, New York.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_138">138</a>.</b> "Sir William Wallace." One of the national heroes of Scotland. +His deeds are commemorated in a once very popular romance by +Jane Porter entitled "The Scottish Chiefs" (1810).</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_139">139</a>.</b> "Schehallion." A mountain 35 miles northwest of Perth. +Altitude, 3547 feet.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_140">140</a>.</b> "Royal Martyr." King Charles I. of England, beheaded by +Parliament, 1649.</p> + +<p>"King James." James II., at that time a fugitive from his throne.</p> + +<p>"Covenanting traitors." Adherents of the "Solemn League and +Covenant" adopted by the Scottish Parliament in 1638, and by the +English Parliament in 1643, for the preservation of the reformed religion +in Scotland and the suppression of papacy and prelacy.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_153">153</a>.</b> "Burgundy." The limits and character of the region known by +this name have varied greatly at different periods of history. The Burgundy +here mentioned was the great duchy of that name, the capital of +which was Dijon. The Duke of Burgundy at the time of this story was +the famous Charles the Bold, who was its ruler from 1467 to 1477. After +his death it passed into the control of the king of France.</p> + +<p>"Flanders." This country, which now forms the southeastern part of +the province of Zealand, Netherlands, was united to Burgundy in 1369. + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> +Upon the death of Charles the Bold it passed to Austria; but since that +time it has been successively acquired by various other neighboring +states.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_154">154</a>.</b> "Palisades." Strong long stakes one end of which is set in +the ground and the other sharpened.</p> + +<p>"Sappers." Builders of fortifications.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_155">155</a>.</b> "Quarrels." Square-headed arrows for crossbows.</p> + +<p>"Mantelets." Large shields of rope, wood, or metal.</p> + +<p>"Mangonels." Engines for throwing stones or javelins.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_156">156</a>.</b> "Barbican." See "Castle" in Webster's International Dictionary. +A tower for defending the entrance to a castle.</p> + +<p>"Arbalester." A crossbowman.</p> + +<p>"Half ell shaft." A shaft or arrow half an ell in length.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_158">158</a>.</b> "Fascines" (făs´sēnz). Bundles of sticks bound together and +used for filling ditches or raising batteries.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_160">160</a>.</b> "Sir Turk." The Turkish catapult just described.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_163">163</a>.</b> "Solway." Solway Firth, an arm of the Irish Sea, extending +into Scotland: remarkable for the rapidity of its tides.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_164">164</a>.</b> "Graeme" (grām). See page <a href="#Page_138">138</a>.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_165">165</a>.</b> "Manoa" (mä nō´ä). The city ruled by the gilded king, El +Dorado. It was said to be built on an island in a lake called Parima, +somewhere in the northern part of South America. Beginning about +1530, great numbers of expeditions were made by the Spaniards in search +of this fabled city, all of which ended in disappointment and disaster.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_175">175</a>.</b> "Naught of strange." Nothing out of the usual order.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_176">176</a>.</b> "Lindis." A small stream in Lincolnshire.</p> + +<p>"Melick" (mĕl´ĭk). Melic grass, a kind of grass eaten by cattle.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_177">177</a>.</b> "Warping down." Turning aside out of a straight course; +moving in zigzag lines.</p> + +<p>"Scope." A sea wall, or steep shore.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_178">178</a>.</b> "Bairns." Little children.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_179">179</a>.</b> "Eygre" (ē´gẽr). The flood tide moving with great force and +swiftness up the river.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_181">181</a>.</b> Henry II. of England was born in 1133; died, 1189. He was the +first of the Plantagenet line of kings.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_182">182</a>.</b> Thomas Becket, born in London, 1118, was the son of a rich +merchant, and became a member of the household of Theobald, archbishop + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> +of Canterbury, about 1142. Through the influence of Theobald +his interests with the king were advanced, and he became chancellor +during the first year of Henry's reign. He was murdered in 1170.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_190">190</a>.</b> In 1172 Becket was canonized under the title of St. Thomas of +Canterbury, and in 1220 his bones were removed to Trinity Chapel, +where they became the object of great veneration. For several centuries +pilgrimages were made to his shrine from all parts of England. Chaucer's +"Canterbury Tales" were related by a party of pilgrims who were making +this journey, presumably near the close of the fourteenth century. +By order of King Henry VIII. the shrine was finally destroyed, and the +bones of Becket were scattered and burned.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_200">200</a>.</b> "Genera." Plural of <i>genus</i>—a name applied to a class of +objects subdivided into species.</p> + +<p>"Hen harriers." Hawks which fly low and harass fowls or small +animals.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_201">201</a>.</b> "Gallinæ" (găl lī´ne). The order of birds which includes +domestic fowls, pheasants, quails, grouse, etc.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_205">205</a>.</b> The National Cemetery at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, was dedicated +by President Lincoln, November 19, 1863. It was here that the great +battle of Gettysburg was fought, July 1, 2, and 3 of the same year. The +cemetery contains the graves of 3580 soldiers, with a central monument, +built at a cost of $50,000, and a large number of regimental monuments +on the various historic points of the battlefield.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</b> "Vespasian and his son Titus." Vespasian was emperor of +Rome <span class="smcap">A.D.</span> 70–79. He was succeeded by his son Titus, who died two +years later. Jerusalem was taken and destroyed by Titus, acting as his +father's general, in the year 70. Both these emperors expended large +sums on public works. The Coliseum, although begun by Vespasian in +72, was not finished during his reign. Despite the enormous mass of the +present ruins, it is estimated that they comprise only about one third of +the original materials; the remainder have been carried away, destroyed, +or used in the construction of other buildings.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_209">209</a>.</b> "Orpheus." The sweet musician of Thrace whose music +charmed birds and beasts, and caused even rocks and trees to move from +their places to listen to the divine melody.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_211">212</a>.</b> "The Last Prayer." Jean Leon Gérôme, the painter of this +picture, is a celebrated French artist, born at Vesoul in 1824. He studied +in Italy, and to perfect himself in his art, traveled for some years in +Egypt, Turkey, and other eastern countries. As might have been + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> +expected, the subjects of many of his paintings are oriental. In 1863, he +became professor of painting at the Academy of Fine Arts. His works +are very numerous and meritorious.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_213">213</a>.</b> The stanza of poetry quoted on this page is from Lord Byron's +"Childe Harold's Pilgrimage."</p> + +<p>"Honorius." Honorius was born at Constantinople, <span class="smcap">A.D.</span> 384, and +became emperor of the western empire in 395 at the age of eleven years. +He married the daughter of his guardian, Stilicho, in 398. It was during +his reign (in 410) that Rome was taken and sacked by Alaric the Goth. +He died in 423.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_216">216</a>.</b> "Lyonesse" (lī o nĕs´). A mythical region, said to have +extended from Land's End, in Cornwall, to the Scilly Islands. A tradition +still exists of the submersion and destruction of this country, probably +in the tenth century. King Arthur was said to have been a native of +Lyonesse.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_217">217</a>.</b> "Camelot." A legendary town in England where Arthur had +his palace and court. It is supposed by some to have been near Winchester; +others locate it in Wales.</p> + +<p>"Merlin." A half-legendary bard and wizard, who is supposed to +have lived in the early part of the sixth century. He was the companion +and counselor of Arthur, and instituted the Round Table at Carduel. +The famous prose romance, called the "Romance of Merlin," was written +in French by Hélie de Borron about the year 1200. It was translated +into English about the middle of the fifteenth century.</p> + +<p>"Excalibur." The sword which Arthur had received from the Lady +of the Lake. It had many miraculous qualities, and the wearer of its +scabbard could lose no blood.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_223">223</a>.</b> "Daïs throne." A throne raised upon an elevated platform +or daïs.</p> + +<p><b><a href="#Page_224">224</a>.</b> "Avilion." In Celtic mythology, the Land of the Blessed—an +earthly paradise in the western seas. All the great heroes of mediæval +times, as Arthur and Ogier the Dane, were carried there, where they lived +in perfect happiness at the court of Morgan le Fay, the queen of the +fairies.</p> + +<hr /> +<div class="tn"> +<h4>Transcriber's Note</h4> +<ul class="corrections"> + <li>Line numbers removed from short stories.</li> + <li>Obvious punctuation and spelling errors repaired.</li> + <li>Footnote moved to the end of short story.</li> + <li>In Table of Contents "Portraits of Authors" page number corrected for Arthur Penrhyn Stanley + from "190" to "<a href="#Stanley">191</a>".</li> + <li><a href="#oo">Chiusi</a> (Kē [=oo]´sē) contains [=oo] representing a "long oo" sound not + represented in any charts.</li> +</ul> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's School Reading by Grades, by James Baldwin + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCHOOL READING BY GRADES *** + +***** This file should be named 36864-h.htm or 36864-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/8/6/36864/ + +Produced by Larry B. 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