^ 
 
 fe 
 
 A ^ jstJj £k ^^ 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 University of California. 
 
 Received jyOXr. ^ JgoQ . 
 
 Accession No. ^ /^ vT^^ y. Class No. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2008 with funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/fiftyfamousstoriOObaldrich 
 
ECLECTIC SCHOOL READINGS 
 
 FIFTY 
 
 Famous Stories Retold 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES BALDWIN 
 
 o>0<o 
 
 NEW YORK:. CINCINNATI-:. CHICAGO 
 AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 
 

 ^ KoSJ 
 
 Copyright, 1896, by 
 AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY. 
 
 FIFTY FAMOUS STORIES. 
 W. P. 7 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 King Alfred and the Cakes . 
 King Alfred and the Beggar . 
 King Canute on the Seashore 
 The Sons of William the Con 
 
 queror 
 
 The White Ship . . . 
 King John and the Abbot 
 A Story of Robin Hood , 
 Bruce and the Spider . 
 The Black Douglas . . 
 Three Men of Gotham 
 Other Wise Men of Gotham 
 The Miller of the Dee 
 Sir Philip Sidney . . . 
 The Ungrateful Soldier . 
 Sir Humphrey Gilbert . . 
 Sir Walter Raleigh . . . 
 
 Pocahontas 
 
 George Washington and 
 
 Hatchet .... 
 Grace Darling . . . . - 
 The Story of William Tell 
 Arnold Winkelried . . 
 The Bell of Atri . . . 
 How Napoleon crossed the Alps 
 The Story of Cincinnatus . . . 
 
 his 
 
 PAGE 
 
 5 
 
 12 
 
 17 
 21 
 
 28 
 
 33 
 35 
 39 
 42 
 46 
 49 
 51 
 53 
 54 
 58 
 
 59 
 61 
 
 64 
 66 
 69 
 
 75 
 76 
 
 The Story of Regulus . 
 Cornelia's Jewels . . 
 Androclus and the Lion 
 Horatius at the Bridge 
 Julius Caesar .... 
 The Sword of Damocles 
 Damon and Pythias 
 A Laconic Answer 
 The Ungrateful Guest . 
 Alexander and Bucephalus 
 Diogenes the Wise Man 
 The Brave Three Hundred 
 Socrates and his House 
 The King and his Hawk 
 Doctor Goldsmith . 
 The Kingdoms . . . 
 The Barmecide Feast . 
 The Endless Tale . . 
 The BHnd Men and the Elephan 
 Maximilian and the Goose Boy 
 The Inchcape Rock 
 Whittington and his Cat 
 Casablanca .... 
 Antonio Canova . . 
 Picciola . . . . . 
 Mignon ....*. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 82 
 
 85 
 87 
 
 91 
 
 95 
 
 96 
 100 
 102 
 103 
 106 
 
 108 ^ 
 no 
 112 
 
 113 
 118 
 119 
 
 123' 
 
 132 
 
 ^37 
 140 
 
 ^53 
 156 
 162 
 167 
 
CONCERNING THESE STORIES. 
 
 There are numerous time-honored stories which have become so 
 incorporated into the literature and thought of our race that a knowl- 
 edge of them is an indispensable part of one's education. These 
 stories are of several different classes. To one class belong the popu- 
 lar fairy tales which have delighted untold generations of children, 
 and will continue to delight them to the end of time. To another 
 class belong the limited number of fables that have come down to us 
 through many channels from hoar antiquity. To a third belong the 
 charming stories of olden times that are derived from the literatures of 
 ancient peoples, such as the Greeks and the Hebrews. A fourth class 
 includes the half-legendary tales of a distinctly later origin, which have 
 for their subjects certain romantic episodes in the lives of well-known 
 heroes and famous men, or in the history of a people. 
 
 It is to this last class that most of the fifty stories contained in the 
 present volume belong. As a matter of course, some of these stories 
 are better known, and therefore mor t fa7no7is, than others. Some have 
 a slight historical value ; some are useful as giving point to certain 
 great moral truths ; others are products solely of the fancy, and are 
 intended only to amuse. Some are derived from very ancient sources, 
 and are current in the literature of many lands ; some have come to us 
 through the ballads and folk tales of the English people ; a few are 
 of quite recent origin ; nearly all are the subjects of frequent allusions 
 in poetry and prose and in the conversation of educated people. Care 
 has been taken to exclude everything that is not strictly within the 
 limits of probability ; hence there is here no trespassing upon the 
 domain of the fairy tale, the fable, or the myth. 
 
 That children naturally take a deep interest in such stories, no per- 
 son can deny ; that the reading of them will not only give pleasure, but 
 will help to lay the foundation for broader literary studies, can scarcely 
 be doubted. It is believed, therefore, that the present collection will 
 be found to possess an educative value which will commend it as a 
 supplementary reader in the middle primary grades at school. It is also 
 hoped that the book will prove so attractive that it will be in demand 
 out of school as well as in. 
 
 Acknowledgments are due to Mrs. Charles A. Lane, by whom eight 
 or ten of the stories were suggested. 
 
'*\B R A R y 
 
 uiT raK 
 
 •UNrV-EBSlTY 
 
 ^P 
 
 CALIFQ 
 
 FIFTY FAMOUS STORIES RETOLD. 
 
 0:^0 
 
 KING ALFRED AND THE CAKES. 
 
 Many years ago there lived in Eng-land a wise 
 and good king whose name was Al-fred. No other 
 man ever did so much for his country as he ; and 
 
people now, all over the world, speak of him as 
 Alfred the Great. 
 
 In those days a king did not have a very easy 
 life. There was war almost all the time, and no 
 one else could lead his army into battle so well as 
 he. And so, between ruling and fighting, he had a 
 busy time of it indeed. 
 
 A fierce, rude people, called the Danes, had come 
 from over the sea, and were fighting the Eng-lish. 
 There were so many of them, and they were so 
 bold and strong, that for a long time they gained 
 every battle. If they kept on, they would soon be 
 the masters of the whole country. 
 
 At last, after a great battle, the English army 
 was broken up and scat-tered. Every man had to 
 save himself in the best way he could. King Al- 
 fred fled alone, in great haste, through the woods 
 and swamps. 
 
 Late in the day the king came to the hut of a 
 wood-cut-ter. He was very tired and "hungry, and 
 he begged the wood-cut-ter's wife to give him some- 
 thing to eat and a place to sleep in her hut. 
 
 The wom-an was baking some cakes upon the 
 hearth, and she looked with pity upon the poor, 
 ragged fellow who seemed so hungry. She had 
 no thought that he was the king. 
 
 " Yes," she said, " I will give you some supper if 
 
you will watch these cakes. I want to go out and 
 milk the cow; and you must see that they do not 
 burn while I am gone." 
 
 King Alfred was very willing to watch the cakes, 
 but he had far greater things to think about. How 
 was he going to get his army to-geth-er again .^^ 
 And how was he going to drive the fierce Danes 
 out of the land? He forgot his hunger; he forgot 
 the cakes ; he forgot that he was in the woodcut- 
 ter's hut. His mind was busy making plans for 
 to-mor-row. 
 
 In a little while the wom-an came back. The 
 cakes v/ere smoking on the hearth. They were 
 burned to a crisp. Ah, how angry she was ! 
 
 " You lazy fellow ! " she cried. " See what you 
 have done ! You want some-thing to eat, but you 
 do not want to work ! " 
 
 I have been told that she even struck the king 
 with a stick ; but I can hardly be-lieve that she was 
 sp ill-na-tured. 
 
 I The king must have laughed to himself at the 
 thought of being scolded in this way J and he 
 was so hungry that he did not mind the woman's 
 angry words half so much as the loss of the 
 cakes. 
 
 I do not know whether he had any-thing to eat 
 that night, or whether he had to go to bed without 
 
his supper. But it was not many days until he 
 had gath-ered his men to-geth-er again, and had 
 beaten the Danes in a great battle. 
 
 KING ALFRED AND THE BEGGAR„ 
 
 At one time the Danes drove King Alfred from 
 his kingdom, and he liad to lie hidden for a long 
 time on a little is-land in a river. 
 
 One day, all who were on the is-land, except the 
 king and queen and one servant, went out to fish. 
 It Was a very lonely place, and no one could eet to 
 it except by a boat. About noon a ragged beggar 
 came to the king's door, and asked for food. 
 
 The king called the servant, and asked, " How 
 much food have we in the house ? " 
 
 " My lord," said the servant, " we have only one 
 loaf and a little wine." 
 
 Then the king gave thanks to God, and said, 
 " Give half of the loaf and half of the wine to this 
 poor man." 
 
 The servant did as he was bidden. The beggar 
 thanked the king for his kindness, and went on his 
 way. 
 
 In the after-noon the men who had gone out to 
 fish came back. They had three boats full of fish, 
 
 # 
 
and they said, *' We have caught more fish to-day 
 than in all the other days that we have been on 
 this island." 
 
 The king was glad, and he and his people were 
 more hopeful than they had ever been before. 
 
 When night came, the king lay awake for a long 
 time, and thought about the things that had hap- 
 pened that day. At last he fancied that he saw 
 a great light like the sun ; and in the midst of the 
 light there stood an old man with black hair, hold- 
 ing an open book in his hand. 
 
 It may all have been a dream, and yet to the king 
 it seemed very real indeed. He looked and won- 
 dered, but was not afraid. 
 
 " Who are you } " he asked of the old man. 
 
 " Alfred, my son, be brave," said the man ; " for I 
 am the one to whom you gave this day the half of 
 all the food that you had. Be strong and joyful 
 of heart, and listen to what I say. Rise up early 
 in the morning and blow your horn three times, 
 so loudly that the Danes may hear it. By nine 
 o'clock, five hundred men will be around you ready 
 to be led into battle. Go forth bravely, and within 
 seven days your en-e-mies shall be beaten, and you 
 shall go back to your kingdom to reign in peace." 
 i^Then the light went out, and the man was seen 
 no more. 
 
lO 
 
 Irx the morning the king arose early, and crossed 
 over to the mainland. Then he blew his horn 
 three times very loudly; and when his friends 
 heard it they were glad, but the Danes were filled 
 with fear. 
 
 At nine o'clock, five hundred of his bravest sol- 
 diers stood around him ready for battle. He spoke, 
 and told them what he had seen and heard in his 
 dream ; and when he had fin-ished, they all cheered 
 loudly, and said that they would follow him and fight 
 for him so long as they had strength. 
 
 So they went out bravely to battle ; and they 
 beat the Danes, and drove them back into their 
 own place. And King Alfred ruled wisely and well 
 over all his people for the rest of his days. 
 
 KING CANUTE ON THE SEASHORE. 
 
 A HUNDRED years or more after the time of 
 Alfred the Great there was a king of England 
 named Ca-nute^ King Canute was a Dane ; but 
 the Danes were not so fierce and cruel then as 
 they had been when they were at war with King 
 Alfred. 
 
 The great men and of-fi-cers who were around 
 King Canute were always praising him. 
 
II 
 
 "You are the greatest man that ever lived," one 
 would say. 
 
 Then an-oth-er would say, " O king ! there' can 
 never be an-oth-er man so mighty as you." 
 
 And another would say, " Great Canute, there is 
 nothing in the world that dares to dis-o-bey you." 
 
 The king was a man of sense, and he grew very 
 tired of hearing such foolish speeches. 
 
 One day he was by the sea-shore, and his of-fi- 
 cers were with him. They were praising him, as 
 they were in the habit of doing. He thought that 
 now he would teach them a lesson, and so he bade 
 them set his chair on the beach close by the edge 
 of the water. 
 
 " Am I the greatest man in the world ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 *' O king!" they cried, "there is no one so 
 mighty as you." 
 
 " Do all things obey me ? " he asked. 
 
 " There is nothing that dares to dis-o-bey you, O 
 king ! " they said. '' The world bows before you, 
 and gives you honor." 
 
 "Will the sea obey me.^^" he asked; and he 
 looked down at the little waves which were lapping 
 the sand at his feet. 
 
 The foolish officers were puzzled, but they did 
 not dare to say " No." 
 
12 
 
 '' Command it, O king ! and it will obey," said 
 one. 
 
 '' Sea," cried Canute, " I command you to come 
 no farther ! Waves, stop your rolling, and do not 
 dare to touch my feet ! " 
 
 But the tide came in, just as it always did. The 
 water rosei higher and higher. It came up around 
 the king's chair, and wet not only his feet, but also 
 his robe. His officers stood about him, alarmed, 
 and won-der-ing whether he was not mad. 
 
 Then Canute took off his crown, and threw it 
 down upon the sand. 
 
 " I shall never wear it again," he said. " And do 
 you, my men, learn a lesson from what you have 
 seen. There is only one King who is all-powerful ; 
 and it is he who rules the sea, and holds the ocean 
 in the hollow of his hand. It is he whom_you 
 ought to praise and serve above all others." 
 
 THE SONS OF WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. 
 
 There was once a great king of England who 
 was called Wil-liam the Con-quer-or, and he had 
 three sons. 
 
 One day King Wil-liam seemed to be thinking 
 of something that made him feel vgry sad ; and the 
 
•Sea. 1 command you to come no farther t'* 
 
14 
 
 wise men who were about him asked him what was 
 the matter. 
 
 " I am thinking," he said, " of what my sons may 
 do after I am dead. For, unless the)' are wise and 
 strong, they cannot keep the kingdom which I have 
 won for them. Indeed, I am at a loss to know which 
 one of the three ought to be the king when I am 
 gonCc" 
 
 " O king ! " said the wise men, " if we only 
 knew what things your sons admire the most, 
 we might then be able to tell what kind of men 
 they will be. Perhaps, by asking each one of 
 them a few ques-tions, we can find out which 
 one of them will be best fitted to rule in your 
 place." 
 
 ^ " The plan is well worth trying, at least," said the 
 king. " Have the boys come before you, and then 
 ask them what you please." 
 
 The wise men talked with one another for a little 
 while, and then agreed that the young princes 
 should be brought in, one at a time, and that the 
 same ques-tions should be put to each. 
 
 The first who came into the room was Robert. 
 He was a tall, willful lad, and was nick-named Short 
 Stocking. 
 
 " Fair sir," said one of the men, " answer me this 
 question: If, instead of being a boy, it had pleased 
 
IS 
 
 God that you should be a bird, what kind of a bird 
 would you rather be ? '' 
 
 " A hawk," answered Robert. " I would rather 
 be a hawk, for no other bird reminds one so much 
 of a bold and gallant knight." 
 
 The next who came was young William, his 
 father's name-sake and pet. His face was jolly and 
 round, and because he had red hair he was nick- 
 named Rufus, or the Red. 
 
 "Fair sir,'' said the wise man, "answer me this 
 question : If, instead of being a boy, it had pleased 
 God that you should be a bird, what kind of a bird 
 would you rather be ? " 
 
 '' An eagle," answered William. " I would rather 
 be an eagle, because it is strong and brave. It is 
 feared by all other birds, and is there-fore the king 
 of them all." 
 
 Lastly came the youngest brother, Henry, with 
 quiet steps and a sober, thought-ful look. He had 
 been taught to read and write, and for that reason 
 he was nick-named Beau-clerc, or the Hand-some 
 Schol-ar. 
 
 " Fair sir," said the wise man, " answer me this 
 question : If, instead of being a boy, it had pleased 
 God that you should be a bird, what kind of a bird 
 would you rather be ? " 
 
 " A star-ling," said Henry. '' I would rather be a 
 
i6 
 
 star-ling, because it is good-mannered and kind and 
 a joy to every one who sees it, and it never tries to 
 rob or abuse its neigh-bor." 
 
 Then the wise men talked with one another for a 
 little while, and when they had agreed among them- 
 selves, they spoke to the kingo 
 >^^^«fc find," said they, "that your eldest son, Rob- 
 ert, will be bold arid gallant. He will do sorne great 
 deeds, and make a name for himself; but in the end 
 he will be over-come by his foes, and will die in 
 prison. 
 
 " The second son, William, will be as brave and 
 strong as the eagle; but he will be feared and hated 
 for his cruel deeds. I He will lead a wicked life, and 
 will die a shamefiirdeath. ■^^^f^^-"--*'^^ 
 
 " The youngest son, Henry, will be wise and pru- 
 dent and peaceful. He will go to war only when Ke 
 is forced to do so by his enemies, fie will be loved 
 at home, and re-spect-ed abroad ; and he will die in 
 peace after having gained great pos-ses-sions." 
 
 Years passed by, and the three boys had grown 
 up to be men. King William lay upon his death- 
 bed, and again he thought of what would become 
 of his sons when he was gone. Then he re-mem- 
 bered what ttie wise men had told him ; and so he 
 de-clared that Robert should Have the lands which 
 he held in France, that William should be the King 
 
of England, and that Henry should have no land at 
 aJl^ot only a ...... of gold.^ ^.nf^tO^C^f^ 
 
 \ So it hap-pened in the encTvery much as the wise 
 men had fore-told. Robert, the Short Stocking, was 
 bold and reckless, like the hawk which he so muclv 
 admired. He lost all the lands that his father had 
 left him, and was at last shut up in prison, where he 
 was kept until he died. 
 
 William Rufus was so over-bear-ing and cruel that 
 he was feared and hated by all his people. He led 
 a wicked life, and was killed by one of his own men 
 while hunting in the forest. 
 
 And Henry, the Handsome Scholar, had not only 
 the chest of gold for his own, but he became by and 
 by the King of England and the ruler of all the lands 
 that his father had had in France. 
 
 THE WHITE SHIP. 
 
 King Henry, the Handsome Scholar, had one 
 son, named William, whom he dearly loved. The 
 young man was noble and brave, and every-body 
 hoped that he would some day be the King of 
 England. 
 
 One summer Prince William went with his father 
 across the sea to look after their lands in France. 
 
 FIFTY FAM. STO.— 2 
 
i8 
 
 They were wel-comed with joy by all their people 
 there, and the young prince was so gallant and 
 kind, that he won the love of all who saw him. 
 
 But at last the time came for them to go back 
 to England. The king, with his wise men and 
 brave knights, set sail early in the day ; but Prince 
 William with his younger friends waited a little 
 while. They had had so joyous a time in France 
 that they were in no great haste to tear them-selves 
 away. 
 
 Then they went on board of the ship which was 
 waiting to carry them home. It was a beau-ti-ful 
 ship with white sails and white masts, and it had 
 been fitted up on purpose for this voyage. 
 
 The sea was smooth, the winds were fair, and no 
 one thought of danger. On the ship, every-thing 
 had been ar-ranged to make the trip a pleasant one. 
 There was music and dancings and everybody was 
 merry and glad. 
 
 The sun had gone down before the white-winged 
 vessel was fairly out of the bay. But what of that.^ 
 The moon was at its full, and it would give light 
 enough ; and before the dawn of the morrow, the 
 narrow sea would be crossed. And so the prince, 
 and the young people who were with him, gave 
 them'selves up to mer-ri-ment and feasting and joy. 
 
 The ear-li-er hours of the night passed by; and 
 
19 
 
 then there was a cry of alarm on deck. A moment 
 after-ward there was a great crash. The ship had 
 struck upon a rock. The water rushed in. She 
 was sinking. Ah, where now were those who had 
 lately been so heart-freeh and glad ? 
 
 Every heart was full of fear. No one knew what 
 to do. A small boat was quickly launched, and the 
 prince with a few of his bravest friends leaped into 
 it. They pushed off just as the ship was be-gin-ning 
 to settle beneath the waves. Would they be saved ? 
 
 They had rowedlhardly ten yards from the ship, 
 ^'when there was a cry from among those that were 
 left behind. 
 
 " Row back ! " cried the prince. " It is my little 
 sister. She must be saved ! " 
 
 The men did not dare to disobey. The boat was 
 again brought along-side of the sinking vessel. 
 The prince stood up, and held out his arms for his 
 sister. At that moment the ship gave a great 
 lurch forward into the waves. One shriek of ter- 
 ror was heard, and then all was still save the sound 
 of the moaning waters. 
 
 Ship and boat, prince and prin-cess, and all the 
 gay com-pa-ny that had set sail from France, went 
 down to the bottom together. One man clung to a 
 floating plank, and was saved the next day. He 
 was the only person left alive to tell the sad story. 
 
20 
 
 When King Henry heard of the death of his son, 
 his grief was more than he could bear. His heart 
 was broken. He had no more joy in life ; and men 
 say that no one ever saw him smile again. 
 
 Here is a poem about him that your teacher may 
 read to you, and perhaps, after a while, you may 
 learn it by heart. 
 
 HE NEVER SMILED AGAIN. 
 
 The bark that held the prince went down, 
 
 The sweeping waves rolled on ; 
 And what was England's glorious crown 
 
 To him that wept a son ? 
 He lived, for Hfe may long be borne 
 
 Ere sorrow breaks its chain : 
 Why comes not death to those who mourn? 
 
 He never smiled again. 
 
 There stood proud forms before his throne, 
 
 The stately and the brave ; 
 But who could fill the place of one, — 
 
 That one beneath the wave ? 
 Before him passed the young and fair, 
 
 In pleasure's reckless train ; 
 But seas dashed o'er his son's bright hair — 
 
 He never smiled again. 
 
 He sat where festal bowls went round ; 
 
 He heard the minstrel sing ; 
 He saw the tour-ney's victor crowned 
 
 Amid the knightly ring. 
 
21 
 
 A murmur of the restless deep 
 
 Was blent with every strain, 
 A voice of winds that would not sleep — 
 
 He never smiled again. 
 
 Hearts, in that time, closed o'er the trace 
 
 Of vows once fondly poured. 
 And strangers took the kins-man's place 
 
 At many a joyous board; 
 Graves which true love had bathed with tears 
 
 Were left to heaven's bright rain ; 
 
 Fresh hopes were born for other years — 
 
 He never smiled again ! 
 
 Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT, 
 
 I. THE THREE QUESTIONS. 
 
 There was once a king of England whose name 
 was John. He was a bad king; for he was harsh 
 and cruel to his people, and so long as he could 
 have his own way, he did not care what became of 
 other folks. He was the worst king that England 
 ever had. 
 
 Now, there was in the town of Can'ter-bur-y a rich 
 old abbot who lived in grand style in a great house 
 called the Abbey. Every day a hundred noble men 
 sat down with him to dine; and fifty brave knights^ 
 
22 
 
 in fine velvet coats and gold chains, waited upon 
 him at his table. 
 
 When King John heard of the way in which the 
 abbot lived, he made up his mind to put a stop 
 to it. So he sent for the old man to come and 
 see him. 
 
 " How now, my good abbot ? " he said. " I hear 
 that you keep a far better house than I. How dare 
 you do such a thing .^^ Don't you know that no 
 man in the land ought to live better than the king?^ 
 And I tell you that no man shall." 
 
 " O king ! " said the abbot, " I beg to say that I 
 am spending nothing but what is my own. I hope 
 that you will not think ill of me for making things 
 pleasant for my friends and the brave knights who 
 are with me." 
 
 " Think ill of you ? " said the king. " How can I 
 help but think ill of you ? All that there is in this 
 broad land is mine by right ; and how do you dare 
 to put me to shame by living in grander style than I ? 
 One would think that you were trying to be king in 
 my place." 
 
 " Oh, do not say so ! " said the abbot. " For I " — 
 
 " Not another word ! " cried the king. " Your fault 
 is plain, and unless you can answer me three ques- 
 tions, your head shall be cut off, and all your riches 
 shall be mine." 
 
23 
 
 " I will try to answer them, O king ! " said the 
 abbot. 
 
 " Well, then, jsaid King John, " as I sit here with 
 my crown of gold on my head, you must tell me to 
 within a day just how long I shall live. Sec-ond-ly, 
 you must tell ^me how soon I shall ride round the 
 whole world ; and lastly, you shall tell me what I 
 think." 
 
 " O king ! " said the abbot, " these are deep, hard 
 questions, and I cannot answer them just now. But 
 if you will give me two weeks to think about them, 
 I will do the best that I can." 
 
 " Two weeks you shall have," said the king ; " but 
 if then you fail to answer me, you shall lose your 
 head, and all your lands shall be mine." 
 
 The abbot went away very sad and in great fear. 
 He first rode to Oxford. Here was a great school, 
 called a u-ni-ver'si-ty, and he wanted to see if any of 
 the wise pro-fess-ors could help him. But they shook 
 their heads, and said that there was nothing about 
 King John in any of their books. 
 
 Then the abbot rode down to Cam-bridge, where 
 there was another u-ni-ver-si-ty. But not one of the 
 teachers in that great school could help him. 
 
 At last, sad and sor-row-ful, he rode toward home 
 to bid his friends and his brave knights good-by. 
 For now he had not a week to live. 
 
24 
 
 II. THE THREE ANSWERS. 
 
 As the abbot was riding up the lane which led to 
 his grand house, he met his shep-herd going to the 
 fields^^^ . 
 
 " Welcome home, good master ! " cried the shep- 
 herd. "What news do you bring us from great 
 King John ? " 
 
 " Sad news, sad news," said the abbot ; and then 
 he told him all that had happened. 
 
 " Cheer up, cheer up, good master," said the shep- 
 herd. " Have you never yet heard that a fool may 
 teach a wise man wit ? I think I can help you out 
 of your trouble." 
 
 " You help me ! " cried the abbot. " How.f^ how? " 
 
 " Well," answered the shepherd, " you know that 
 everybody says that I look just like you, and that I 
 have some-times been mis-tak-en for you. So, lend 
 me your servants and your horse and your gown, 
 and I will go up to London and see the king. If 
 nothing else can be done, I can at least die in your 
 place." 
 
 "My good shepherd," said the abbot, "you are 
 very, very kind; and I have a mind to let you try 
 your plan. But if the worst comes to the worst, 
 you shall not die for me. I will die for myself." 
 
 So the shepherd got ready to go at once. He 
 
25 
 
 dressed himself with great care. Over his shep- 
 herd's coat he threw the abbot's long gown, and he 
 bor-rowed the abbot's cap and golden staff. When 
 all was ready, no one in the world would have 
 thought that he was not the great man himself. 
 Then he mounted his horse, and with a great train 
 of servants set out for London. 
 
 Of course the king did not know him. 
 
 " Welcome, Sir Abbot ! " he said. " It is a good 
 thing that you have come back. But, prompt as 
 you are, if you fail to answer my three questions, 
 you shall lose your head." 
 
 " I am ready to answer them, O king ! " said the 
 shepherd. 
 
 " Indeed, indeed ! " said the king, and he laughed 
 to himself. " Well, then, answer my first question : 
 How long shall I live ? Come, you must tell me to 
 the very day." 
 
 " You shall live," said the shepherd, '' until the 
 day that you die, and not one day longer. And you 
 shall die when you take your last breath, and not 
 one moment before." 
 
 The king laughed. 
 
 " You are witty, I see," he said. " But we will 
 let that pass, and say that your answer is right. 
 And now tell me how soon I may ride round the 
 world." 
 
" You shall live until the day that you die. 
 
27 
 
 " You must rise with the sun," said the shepherd, 
 " and you must ride with the sun until it rises again 
 the next morning. As soon as you do that, you will 
 find that you have ridden round the world in ;wenty- 
 four hours." 
 
 The king laughed again. " Indeed," he said, " I 
 did not think that it could be done so soon. You 
 are not only witty, but you are wise, and we will let 
 this answer pass. And now comes my third and 
 last question : What do I think ? " 
 
 " That is an easy question," said the shepherd. 
 " You think that I am the Abbot of Can-ter-bur-y. 
 But, to tell you the truth, I am only his poor shep- 
 herd, and I have come to beg your pardon for him 
 and for me." And with that, he threw off his long 
 gown. 
 
 The king laughed loud and long. 
 
 "A merry fellow you are," said he, " and you shall 
 be the Abbot of Canterbury in your master s place." 
 
 " O king ! that cannot be," said the shepherd ; 
 " for I can neither read nor write." 
 
 " Very well, then," said the king, " I will give 
 you something else to pay you for this merry joke. 
 I will give you four pieces of silver every week as 
 long as you live. And when you get home, you 
 may tell the old abbot that you have brought him a 
 free pardon from King John." 
 
28 
 
 A STORY OF ROBIN HOOD. 
 
 In the rude days of King Rich-ard and King 
 John there were many great woods in England. 
 The most famous of these was Sher-wood forest, 
 where the king often went to hunt deer. In this 
 forest there lived a band of daring men called out- 
 laws. 
 
 They had done something that was against the 
 laws of the land, and had been forced to hide them- 
 selves in the woods to save their lives. There they 
 spent their time in roaming about among the trees, 
 in hunting the king's deer, and in robbing rich 
 trav-el-ers that came that way. 
 
 There were nearly a hundred of these outlaws, 
 and their leader was a bold fellow called Robiii 
 Hood. They were dressed in suits of green, and 
 armed with bows and arrows ; and sometimes they 
 carried long wooden lances and broad-swords, which 
 they knew how to handle well. When-ever they 
 had taken anything, it was brought and laid at the 
 feet of Robin Hood, whom they called their king. 
 He then di-vid-ed it fairly among them, giving to 
 each man his just share. 
 
 Robin never allowed his men to harm any-body 
 but the rich men who lived in great houses and did 
 no work. He was always kind to the poor, and 
 
29 
 
 he often sent help to them ; and for that reason 
 the common people looked upon him as their 
 friend. 
 
 Long after he was dead, men liked to talk about 
 his deeds. Some praised him, and some blamed 
 him. He was, indeed, a rude, lawless fellow; but 
 at that time, people did not think of right and 
 wrong as they do now. 
 
 A great many songs were made up about Robin 
 Hood, and these songs were sung in the cot-ta-ges 
 and huts all over the land for hundreds of years 
 after-ward. 
 
 Here is a little story that is told in one of those 
 songs : — 
 
 Robin Hood was standing one day under a green 
 tree by the road-side. While he was lis-ten-ing to 
 the birds among the leaves, he saw a young man 
 passing by. This young man was dressed in a fine 
 suit of bright red cloth ; and, as he tripped gayly 
 along the road, he seemed to be as happy as the 
 day. 
 
 " I will not trou-ble him," said Robin Hood, "for 
 I think he is on his way to his wedding." 
 
 The next day Robin stood in the same place. 
 He had not been there long when he saw the 
 same young man coming down the road. But he 
 did not seem to be so happy this time. He had 
 
30 
 
 reft his scarlet coat at home, and at every step he 
 sighed and groaned. 
 
 " Ah the sad day ! the sad day ! " he kept saying 
 to himself. 
 
 Then Robin Hood stepped out from under the 
 tree, and said, - — 
 
 " I say, young man ! Have you any money to 
 spare for my merry men and me ? " 
 
 " I have nothing at all," said the young man, "but 
 five shil-lings and a ring." 
 
 '' A gold ring ? ' asked Robin. 
 
 *' Yes," said the young man, " it is a gold ring. 
 Here it is.'' 
 
 " Ah, I see ! " said Robin : " it is a wedding 
 ring." 
 
 " I have kept it these seven years," said the 
 young man; "I have kept it to give to my bride 
 on our wedding day. We were going to be mar- 
 ried yes-ter-day. But her father has prom-ised her 
 to a rich old man whom she never saw. And now 
 my heart is broken." 
 
 " What is your name ? " asked Robin. 
 
 " My name is Allin-a-Dale," said the young man. 
 
 " What will you give me, in gold or fee," said 
 Robin, " if I will help you win your bride again in 
 spite of the rich old man to whom she has been 
 promised ? " 
 
31 
 
 c ^;? 
 
 
 »S, - -- — — -- 
 
 v^l?^?^^)'^^^^^ ^ '^^^^ ^^ money, said 
 
 f,M^'^^^''^>''\^ Allin, "but I will promise 
 
 to be your servant." 
 " How many miles is it to the place where the 
 maiden lives ? " asked Robin. 
 
32 
 
 " It IS not far," said Allin. " But she is to be 
 married this very day, and the church is five miles 
 away." 
 
 Then Robin made haste to dress himself as a 
 harper ; and in the after-noon he stood in the door 
 of the church. 
 
 " Who are you ?" said the bishop, '' and what are 
 you doing here ?'' # 
 
 " I am a bold harper," said Robin, " the best in 
 the north country." 
 
 " I am glad you have come," said the bishop 
 kindly. " There is no music that I like so well as 
 that of the harp. Come in, and play for us." 
 
 " I will go in," said Robin Hood; "but I will not 
 give you any music until I see the bride and bride- 
 groom." 
 
 Just then an old man came in. He was dressed 
 in rich clothing, but was bent with age, and was 
 feeble and gray. By his side walked a fair young 
 girl. Her cheeks were very pale, and her eyes were 
 full of tears. 
 
 " This is no match," said Robin. " Let the bride 
 choose for herself." 
 
 Then he put his horn to his lips, and blew three 
 times. The very next minute, four and twenty 
 men, all dressed in green, and car-ry-ing long bows 
 in their hands, came running across the fields. 
 
33 
 
 And as they marched into the church, all in a row, 
 the fore-most among them was Allin-a-Dale. 
 
 " Now whom do you choose ? " said Robin to the 
 maiden. 
 
 " I choose Allin-a-Dale," she said, blushing. 
 
 " And Allin-a-Dale you shall have," said Robin; 
 " and he that takes you from Allin-a-Dale shall find 
 that he has Robin Hood to deal with." 
 
 And so the fair maiden and Allin-a-Dale were 
 married then and there, and the rich old man went 
 home in a great rage. 
 
 " And thus having ended this merry wedding, 
 The bride looked like a queen : 
 And so they re-turned to the merry green wood, 
 Amongst the leaves so green." 
 
 BRUCE AND THE SPIDER. 
 
 There was once a king of Scot-land whose name 
 was Robert Bruce. He had need to be both brave 
 and wise, for the times in which he lived were wild 
 and rude. The King of England was at war with 
 him, and had led a great army into Scotland to 
 drive him out of the land. 
 
 Battle after battle had been fought. Six times 
 had Bruce led his brave little army against his foes ; 
 
 FIFTY FAM. STO. — 3 
 
34 
 
 and SIX times had his men been beaten, and driven 
 into flight. At last his army was scat-tered, and he 
 was forced to hide himself in the woods and in 
 lonely places among the moun-tains. 
 
 One rainy day, Bruce lay on the ground under a 
 rude shed, lis-ten-ing to the patter of the drops on 
 the roof above him. He was tired and sick at 
 heart, and ready to give up all hope. It seemed 
 to him that there was no use for him to try to do 
 anything more. 
 
 As he lay thinking, he saw a spider over his 
 head, making ready to weave her web. He 
 watched her as she toiled slowly and with great 
 care. Six times she tried to throw her frail thread 
 from one beam to another, and six times it fell 
 short. 
 
 " Poor thing ! " said Bruce : " you, too, know what 
 it is to fail." 
 
 But the spider did not lose hope with the sixth 
 failure. With still more care, she made ready to 
 try for the seventh time. Bruce almost forgot his 
 own troubles as he watched her swing herself out 
 upon the slender line. Would she fail again ? 
 No ! The thread was carried safely to the beam, 
 and fas-tened there. 
 
 " I, too, will try a seventh time ! " cried Bruce. 
 
 He arose and called his men together. He told 
 
35 
 
 them of his plans, and sent them out with mes-sa- 
 ges of cheer to his dis-heart-ened people. Soon 
 there was an army of brave Scotch-men around 
 him. Another battle was fought, and the King of 
 England was glad to go back into his own country. 
 I have heard it said, that, after that day, no one 
 by the name of Bruce would ever hurt a spider. 
 The lesson which the little crea-ture had taught 
 the king was never for-got-ten. 
 
 THE BLACK DOUGLAS. 
 
 In Scotland, in the time of King Robert Bruce, 
 there lived a brave man whose name was Doug-las. 
 His hair and beard were black and long, and his 
 face was tanned and dark; and for this reason 
 people nicknamed him the Black Douglas. He 
 was a good friend of the king, and one of his 
 strongest helpers. 
 
 In the. war with the English, who were trvrng to 
 drive' Bruce from Scotland, the Black Douglas did 
 many brave deeds ; and the English people became 
 very much afraid of him. By and by the fear of 
 him spread all through the land. Nothing could 
 frighten an English lad more than to tell him that 
 the Black Douglas was not far away. Women 
 
36 
 
 would tell their chil-dren, when they were naughty, 
 that the Black Douglas would get them ; and this 
 would make them very quiet and good. 
 
 There was a large cas-tle in Scotland which the 
 English had taken early in the war. The Scot-tish 
 soldiers wanted very much to take it again, and the 
 Black Douglas and his men went one day to see 
 what they could do. It happened to be a hol-i-day, 
 and most of the Ensjlish soldiers in the cas-tle were 
 eating and drinking and having a merry time. But 
 they had left watch-men on the wall to see that the 
 Scottish soldiers did not come upon them un-a- 
 wares ; and so they felt quite safe. 
 
 In the e-ven-ing, when it was growing dark, the 
 wife of one of the soldiers went up on the wall 
 with her child in her arms. As she looked over 
 into the fields below the castle, she saw some dark 
 objects moving toward the foot of the wall. In the 
 dusk she could not make out what they were, and so 
 she pointed them out to one of the watch-men. 
 
 "Pooh, pooh ! " said the watchman. " Those are 
 nothing to frighten us. They are the farmer's cat- 
 tle, trying to find their way home. The farmer 
 himself is en-joy-ing the hol-i-day, and he has for- 
 gotten to bring them in. If the Douglas should 
 happen this way before morning, he will be sorry 
 for his care-less-ness." 
 
37 
 
 But the dark objects were not cattle. They were 
 the Black Douglas and his men, creeping on hands 
 and feet toward the foot of the castle wall. Some 
 of them were dragging ladders behind them through 
 the grass. They would soon be climbing to the top 
 of the wall. None of the English soldiers dreamed 
 that they were within many miles of the place. 
 
 The woman watched them until the last one had 
 passed around a corner out of sight. She was not 
 afraid, for in the dark-en-ing twi-light they looked 
 indeed like cattle. After a little while she began 
 to sing to her child : — 
 
 " Hush ye, hush ye, little pet ye, 
 Hush ye, hush ye, do not fret ye, 
 The Black Douglas shall not get ye." 
 
 All at once a gruff voice was heard behind her, 
 saying, " Don't be so sure about that ! " 
 
 She looked around, and there stood the Black 
 Douglas himself. At the same moment a Scottish 
 soldier climbed off a ladder and leaped upon the 
 wall; and then there came another and another 
 and another, until the wall was covered with them. 
 Soon there was hot fighting in every part of the 
 castle. But the English were so taken by sur- 
 prise that they could not do much. Many of them 
 were killed, and in a little while the Black Douglas 
 
• Don*t be so sure about that! " 
 
39 
 
 and his men were the masters of the castle, which 
 by right be-longed to them. 
 
 As for the woman and her child, the Black 
 Douglas would not suffer any one to -harm them. 
 After a while they went back to England ; and 
 whether the mother made up any more songs about 
 the Black Douglas I cannot tell. 
 
 THREE MEN OF GOTHAM. 
 
 There is a town in England called Go-tham, and 
 many merry stories are told of the queer people who 
 used to live there. 
 
 One day two men of Go-tham met on a bridge. 
 Hodge was coming from the market, and Peter was 
 going to the market. 
 
 " Where are you going ? " said Hodge. 
 
 " I am going to the market to buy sheep,'' said 
 Peter. 
 
 " Buy sheep ? " said Hodge. " And which way 
 will you bring them home ? " 
 
 " I shall bring them over this bridge," said Peter. 
 
 " No, you shall not," said Hodge. 
 
 " Yes, but I will," said Peter, 
 
 " You shall not," said Hodge. 
 
 " I will," said Peter. 
 
40 
 
 Then they beat with their sticks on the ground as 
 though there had been a hundred sheep between 
 them. 
 
 " Take care ! " cried Peter. " Look out that my 
 sheep don't jump on the bridge." 
 
 " I care not where they jump," said Hodge ; ** but 
 they shall not go over it." 
 
 " But they shall," said Peter. 
 
 " Have a care," said Hodge; "for if you say too 
 much, I will put my fingers in your mouth." 
 
 ''Will you?" said Peter. 
 
 Just then another man of Gotham came from 
 the market with a sack of meal on his horse. He 
 heard his neigh-bors quar-rel-ing about sheep ; but 
 he could see no sheep between them, and so he 
 stopped and spoke to them. 
 
 " Ah, you foolish fellows ! " he cried. " It is 
 strange that you will never learn wisdom. — Come 
 here, Peter, and help me lay my sack on my 
 shoul-der." 
 
 Peter did so, and the man carried his meal to the 
 side of the bridge. 
 
 " Now look at me," he said, " and learn a lesson." 
 And he opened the mouth of the sack, and poured 
 all the meal into the river. 
 
 " Now, neighbors," he said, " can you tell how 
 much meal is in my sack ? " 
 

 •«■ » ^ ' 
 
 How much meal is in my sack?" 
 
42 
 
 " There is none at all ! " cried Hodge and Peter 
 together. 
 
 " You are right," said the man ; " and you that 
 stand here and quarrel about nothing, have no more 
 sense in your heads than I have meal in my sack ! " 
 
 OTHER WISE MEN OF GOTHAM. 
 
 One day, news was brought to Gotham that the 
 king was coming that way, and that he would pass 
 through the town. This did not please the men of 
 Gotham at all. They hated the king, for they knew 
 that he was a cruel, bad man. If he came to their 
 town, they would have to find food and lodg-ing for 
 him and his men; and if he saw anything that 
 pleased him, he would be sure to take it for his 
 own. What should they do.^^ 
 
 They met together to talk the matter over. 
 
 " Let us chop down the big trees in the woods, so 
 that they will block up all the roads that lead into 
 the town," said one of the wise men. 
 
 " Good ! " said all the rest. 
 
 So they went out with their axes, and soon all the 
 roads and paths to the town were filled with logs 
 and brush. The kings horse-men would have a 
 hard time of it getting into Gotham. They would 
 
43 
 
 either have to make a new road, or give up the 
 plan al-to-geth-er, and go on to some other place. 
 
 When the king came, and saw that the road had 
 been blocked up, he was very angry. 
 
 "Who chopped those trees down in my way?" 
 he asked of two country lads that were passing by. 
 
 " The men of Gotham," said the lads. 
 
 ''Well," said the king, " go and tell the men of 
 Gotham that I shall send my sher-iff into their town, 
 and have all their noses cut off,^ 
 
 The two lads ran to the town as fast as they 
 could, and made known what the king had said. 
 
 Every-body was in great fright. The men ran 
 from house to house, carrying the news, and asking 
 one another what they should do. 
 
 " Our wits have kept the king out of the town," 
 said one ; " and so now our wits must save our 
 noses.'' 
 
 " True, true ! " said the others. " But what shall 
 wedo.^" 
 
 Then one, whose name was Dobbin, and who was 
 thought to be the wisest of them all, said, " Let me 
 tell you something. Many a man has been pun- 
 ished because he was wise, but I have never heard 
 of any one being harmed because he was a fool. 
 So, when the kings sher-iff comes, let us all act 
 like fools." 
 
44 
 
 " Good, good ! " cried the others. " We will all act 
 like fools." 
 
 It was no easy thing for the king's men to open 
 the roads ; and while they were doing it, the king 
 grew tired of waiting, and went back to London. 
 But very early one morning, the sheriff with a party 
 of fierce soldiers rode through the woods, and be- 
 tween the fields, toward Gotham. Just before they 
 reached the town, they saw a queer sight. The old 
 men were rolling big stones up the hill, and all the 
 young men were looking on, and grunting very 
 loudly. 
 
 The sheriff stopped his horses, and asked what 
 they were doing. 
 
 " We are rolling stones up-hill to make the sun 
 rise," said one of the old men. 
 
 " You foolish fellow ! " said the sheriff. " Don't 
 you know that the sun will rise without any help ? " 
 
 " Ah ! will it } " said the old man.' " Well, I never 
 thought of that. How wise you are ! " 
 
 "And what are jyou doing .^^ " said the sheriff to 
 the young men. 
 
 " Oh, we do the grunting while our fathers do the 
 working," they answered. 
 
 " I see," said the sheriff. " Well, that is the way 
 the world goes every- where." And he rode on 
 toward the town. 
 
45 
 
 He soon came to a field where a number of men 
 were building a stone wall. 
 
 " What are you doing ? " he asked. 
 
 " Why, master," they answered, '' there is a cuck-oo 
 in this field, and we are building a wall around it so 
 as to keep the bird from straying away." 
 
 '*You foolish fellows ! " said the sheriff. "Don't 
 you know that the bird will fly over the top of your 
 wall, no matter how high you build it ? " 
 
 " Why, no," they said. " We never thought of 
 that. How very wise you are ! " 
 
 The sheriff next met a man who was carrying a 
 door on his back. 
 
 " What are you doing ? " he asked. 
 
 " I have just started on a long jour-ney," said the 
 man. 
 
 " But why do you carry that door ? " asked the 
 sheriff. 
 
 " I left my money at home." 
 
 " Then why didn't you leave the door at home 
 too ? " 
 
 " I was afraid of thieves ; and you see, if I have the 
 door with me, they can't break it open and get in." 
 
 " You foolish fellow ! " said the sheriff. " It would 
 be safer to leave the door at home, and carry the 
 money with you^ 
 
 " Ah, would it, though ? " said the man. " Now, 
 
46 
 
 I never thought of that. You are the wisest man 
 that I ever saw." 
 
 Then the sheriff rode on with his men ; but every 
 one that they met was doing some silly thing. 
 
 " Truly I believe that the people of Gotham are 
 all fools," said one of the horsemen. 
 
 " That is true," said another. " It would be a 
 shame to harm such simple people." 
 
 " Let us ride back to London, and tell the king 
 all about them," said the sheriff. 
 
 " Yes, let us do so," said the horsemen. 
 
 So they went back, and told the king that Gotham 
 was a town of fools ; and the king laughed, and said 
 that if that was the case, he would not harm them, 
 but would let them keep their noses. 
 
 THE MILLER OF THE DEE. 
 
 Once upon a time there lived on the banks of the 
 River Dee a miller, who was the hap-pi-est man in 
 England. He was always busy from morning till 
 night, and he was always singing as merrily as any 
 lark. He was so cheerful th^ he made everybody 
 else cheerful ; and people all over the land liked to 
 talk about his pleasant ways. At last the king 
 heard about him. 
 
47 
 
 " I will go down and talk with this won-der-ful 
 miller," he said. " Perhaps he can tell me how to 
 be happy." 
 
 As soon as he stepped inside of the mill, he 
 heard the miller singing : — 
 
 " I envy no-body — no, not II — ^ 
 
 For I am as happy as I can be ; 
 And nobody envies me." 
 
 " You're wrong, my friend," said the king. " You're 
 wrong as wrong can be. I envy you ; and I would 
 gladly change places with you, if I could only be as 
 light-hearted as you are." 
 
 The miller smiled, and bowed to the king. 
 
 " I am sure I could not think of changing places 
 with you, sir," he said. 
 
 " Now tell me," said the king, " what makes you 
 so cheerful and glad here in your dusty mill, while 
 I, who am king, am sad and in trouble every day." 
 
 The miller smiled again, and said, " I do not know 
 why you are sad, but I can eas-i-ly tell why I am 
 glad. I earn my own bread; I love my wife and 
 my children ; I love my friends, and they love me ; 
 and I owe not a penny to any man. Why should 
 I not be happy .f^ For here is the River Dee, and 
 every day it turns my mill ; and the mill grinds the 
 corn that feeds my wife, my babes, and me." 
 
48 
 
 
 v,.;^- jT'^ ~'-; o " Say no more," said 
 *j:i^,- ^V.c.,-' the king. "Stay 
 
 
 ere you 
 
 'Ml[»^^^,_ '--'... happy still. 
 
 envy 
 
 you. Your x^ / 
 
 dusty cap is worth '" 
 
 more than my "'^^^ i' 
 
 golden crown. Your mill 
 
 does more for you than my kingdom can do for 
 
 me. If there were more such men as you, what 
 
49 
 
 a good place this world would be ! Good-by, my 
 friend ! " 
 
 The king turned about, and walked sadly away; 
 and the miller went back to his work, singing : — 
 
 "Oh, I'm as happy as happy can be, 
 For I live by the side of the River Dee I " 
 
 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. 
 
 A CRUEL battle was being fought. The ground 
 was covered with dead and dying men. The air 
 was hot and stifling. The sun shone down without 
 pity on the wounded soldiers lying in the blood and 
 dust. 
 
 One of these soldiers was a no-ble-man, whom 
 everybody loved for his gen-tle-ness and kindness. 
 Yet now he was no better off than the poorest 
 man in the field. He had been wounded, and would 
 die ; and he was suf-fer-ing much with pain and 
 thirst. 
 
 When the battle was over, his friends hurried to 
 his aid. A soldier came running with a cup in his 
 hand. 
 
 " Here, Sir Philip," he said, " I have brought you 
 some clear, cool water from the brook. I will raise 
 your head so that you can drink." 
 
 FIFTY FAM. STO. — 4 
 
so 
 
 The cup was placed to Sir Philip's lips. How 
 thank-ful-ly he looked at the man who had brought 
 it ! Then his eyes met those of a dying soldier 
 who was lying on the ground close by. The wist- 
 ful look in the poor man's face spoke plainer than 
 words. / 
 
 "Give the water to that man," said Sir Philip 
 quickly ; and then, pushing the cup toward him, 
 he said, *' Here, my comrade, take this. Thy need 
 is greater than mine." 
 
 What a brave, noble man he was ! The name 
 of Sir Philip Sidney will never be for-got-ten ; for 
 it was the name of a Chris-tian gen-tle-man who 
 always had the good of others in his mind. Was 
 it any wonder that every bodv wept when it was 
 heard that he was dead } 
 
 It is said, that, on the day when he was carried 
 to the grave, every eye in the land was filled with 
 tears. Rich and poor, high and low, all felt that 
 they had lost a friend ; all mourned the death of 
 the kindest, gentlest man that they had ever known. 
 
51 
 
 THE UNGRATEFUL SOLDIER. 
 
 Here is another story of the bat-tle-field, and 
 it is much like the one which I have just told 
 
 Not quite a hundred years after the time of Sir 
 Philip Sidney there was a war between the Swedes 
 and the Danes. One day a great battle was fought, 
 and the Swedes were beaten, and driven from the 
 field. A soldier of the Danes who had been slightly 
 wounded was sitting on the ground. He was about 
 to take a drink from a flask. All at once he heard 
 sorne one say, — 
 
 " O sir ! give me a drink, for I am dying." 
 
 It was a wounded Swede who spoke. He was 
 lying on the ground only a little way off. The 
 Dane went to him at once. He knelt down by the 
 side of his fallen foe, and pressed the flask to his 
 lips. 
 
 " Drink," said he, "for thy need is greater than 
 mine." 
 
 Hardly had he spoken these words, when the 
 Swede raised himself on his elbow. He pulled a 
 pistol from his pocket, and shot at the man who 
 would have be-friend-ed him. The bullet grazed the 
 Dane's shoulder, but did not do him much harm. 
 
 " Ah, you rascal ! " he cried. " I was going to 
 
52 
 
 befriend you, and you repay me by trying to kill 
 me. Now I will punish you. I would have given 
 you all the water, but now you shall have only 
 half." And with that he drank the half of it, and 
 then gave the rest to the Swede. 
 
 When the King of the Danes heara about this, 
 he sent for the soldier and had him tell the story 
 just as it was. ^ . , 
 
 " Why did you sjiare the life of the Swede after 
 he had tried to kill you ? " asked the king. 
 
53 
 
 " Because, sir," said the soldier, " I could never 
 kill a wounded enemy. 
 
 " Then you'^esi^veu) ^ a no-ble-man," said the 
 king. And he re-ward-ed him by making him a 
 knight, and giving him a noble title. 
 
 SIR HUMPHREY GILBERT. 
 
 More than three hundred years ago there lived in 
 England a brave man whose name was Sir Hum- 
 phrey Gil-bert. At that time there were no white 
 people in this country of ours. The land was cov- 
 ered with forests; and where there are now gseat' 
 cities and fine farms there were only trees^nd 
 swamps among which roamed wild In-di-ans and 
 wild beasts. 
 
 Sir Hum-phrey Gilbert was one of the first men 
 who tried to make a set-tle-ment in A-mer-i-ca. 
 Twice did he bring men and ships over the sea, and 
 twice did he fail, and sail back for England. The 
 second time, he was on a little ship called the " Squir- 
 rel." Another ship, called the " Golden Hind," was 
 not far away. When they were three days from 
 land, the wind failed, and the ships lay floating on 
 the waves. Then at night the air grew very cold. 
 A breeze sprang up from the east . Great white 
 
 T 
 
54 
 
 ice-bergs came drifting around them. In the 
 morning the little ships were almost lost among 
 the floating mountains of ice. The men on the 
 ^'Hind'' saw Sir Humphrey sitting on the deck 
 of the " Squirrel " with an open book in his hand. 
 He called to them and said, — 
 
 " Be brave, my friends ! We are as near heaven 
 on the sea as on the land." 
 
 Night came again. It was a stormy night, with , 
 mist and rain. All at once the men on the " Hind " 
 saw the lights on board of the "Squirrel" go out. 
 The little vessel, with brave Sir Humphrey and all 
 his brave men, was swal-lowed up by the waves. 
 
 SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 
 
 There once lived in England a brave and noble 
 man whose name was Walter Ra-leigh. He was 
 not only brave and noble, but he was also hand- 
 some and polite ; and for that reason the queen 
 made him a knight, and called him Sir Walter 
 Ra-leigh. 
 
 I will tell you about it. 
 
 When Raleigh was a young man, he was one day 
 
 walking along a street in London. At that time 
 
 /ihe streets were not paved, and there were no side- 
 
55 
 
 walks. Raleigh was dressed in very fine style, and 
 he wore a beau-ti-ful scar-let cloak thrown over his 
 shoulders. 
 
 As he passed along, he found it hard work to 
 keep from stepping in the mud, and soiling his 
 hand-some new shoes. Soon he came to a puddle 
 of muddy water which reached from one side of the 
 street to the otiier. He could not step across. Per- 
 haps he could jump over it. 
 
 As he was thinking what he. should do, he hap- 
 pened to look up. Who was it coming down the 
 street, on the other side of the puddle ? 
 
 It was E-liz-a-beth, the Queen of England, with 
 her train of gen-tle-wom-en and waiting maids. She 
 saw the dirty puddle in the street. She saw the 
 handsome young man with the scar-let cloak, stand- 
 ing by the side of it. How was she to get across .f^ 
 
 Young Raleigh, when he saw who was coming, 
 forgot atout liimself. He thought only of helping 
 the queen. There was only one thing that he could 
 do, and no other man would have thoueht of that. 
 
 He took off his scarlet cloak, and spread it across 
 the puddle. The queen couM step on it now, as on 
 a beautiful carpet. 
 
 She walked across. She was safely over the ugly 
 .^ peddle, and her feet had not touched the mud. She 
 pausea a moment, and thanked the young man. 
 
56 
 
 As she walkea onward with her train, she asked 
 one of the gen-tle-wom-en, [' Who is that" brave 
 gen-tle-man who helped us so handsomely ? " 
 
 " His name is Walter Raleigh," said the gentle- 
 woman. 
 
 " He shall have his reward," said the queen. 
 
 Not long after that, she sent for Raleigh to come 
 to her pal-ace. ♦ 
 
 The young man went, but he had ho scarlet cloak 
 to wear. Then, while all the great men and fine 
 ladies of England stood around, the queen made 
 him a knight. And from that time he was known 
 as Sir Walter Raleigh, the queen's favorite. 
 
 Sir Walter Raleigh and Sir Humphrey Gilbert, 
 about whom I have already told you, were half- 
 broth-ers. 
 
 When Sir Humphrey made his first voy-age to 
 America, Sir Walter was with him. After that, Sir 
 Walter tried sev-er-al times to send men to this 
 country to make a set-tle-ment. 
 
 But those whom he sent found only great forests, 
 and wild beasts, and sav-age In-di-ans. Some of 
 them went back to England; some of them died 
 for want of food ; and some of them were lost in 
 the woods. At last Sir Walter gave up trying to 
 get people to come to America. 
 
 But he found two things in this country which 
 
the people of England knew very little about. One 
 was the po-ta-to, the other was to-bac-co. 
 
 If you should ever go to Ireland, you may be 
 shown- the place where Sir Walter planted the few 
 po-ta-toes which he carried over from America. He 
 told his friends how the Indians used them for food; 
 and he proved that they would grow in the Old 
 World as well as in the New. 
 
 Sir Walter had seen the Indians smoking the 
 leaves of the to-bac-co plant. He thought that he 
 would do the same, and he carried some of the 
 leaves to England. Englishmen had never used 
 tobacco before that time; and all who saw Sir 
 Walter puff-ing away at a roll of leaves thought 
 that it was a strange sight. 
 
 One day as he was sitting in his chair and smok- 
 ing, his servant came into the room. The man saw 
 the smoke curling over his master's head, and he 
 thought that he was on fire. 
 
 He ran out for some water. He found a pail 
 that was quite full. He hurried back, and threw 
 the water into Sir Walters face. Of course the 
 fire was all put out. 
 
 After that a great many men learned to smoke. 
 And now tobacco is used in all countries of the 
 world. It would have been well if Sir Walter 
 Raleigh had let it alone. 
 
58 
 
 POCAHONTAS. 
 
 There was once a very brave man whose name 
 was John Smith. He came to this country many 
 years ago, when there were great woods everywhere, 
 and many wild beasts and Indians. Many tales 
 are told of his ad-ven-tures, some of them true and 
 some of them untrue. The most famous of all these 
 is the fol-low-ing : — 
 
 One day when Smith was in the woods, some 
 Indians came upon him, and made him their 
 pris-on-er. They led him to their king, and 
 in a short time they made ready to put him to 
 death. 
 
 A large stone was brought in, and Smith was 
 made to lie down with his head on it. Then two 
 tall Indians with big clubs in their hands came for- 
 ward. The king and all his great men stood around 
 to see. The Indians raised their clubs. In another 
 moment they would fall on Smith s head. 
 
 But just then a little Indian girl rushed in. She 
 was the daugh-ter of the king, and her name was 
 Po-ca-hon'tas. She ran and threw herself between 
 Smith and the up-lift-ed clubs. She clasped Smith's 
 head with her arms. She laid her own head upon 
 his. 
 
 " O father ! " she cried, " spare this man's life. I 
 
59 
 
 am sure he has done you no harm, and we ought to 
 be his friends." 
 
 The men with the clubs could not strike, for. they 
 did not want to hurt the child. The king at first 
 did not know what to do. Then he spoke to some 
 of his war-riors, and they lifted Smith from the 
 ground. They untied the cords from his wrists and 
 feet, and set him free. 
 
 The next day the king sent Smith home; and 
 several Indians went with him to protect him from 
 harm. 
 
 After that, as long as she lived, Po-ca-hon-tas was 
 the friend of the white men, and she did a great 
 many things to help them. 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON AND HIS HATCHET. 
 
 When George Wash-ing-ton was quite a little boy, 
 his father gave him a hatchet. It was bright and 
 new, and George took great delight in going about 
 and chopping things with it. 
 
 He ran into the garden^ and there he saw a tree 
 which seemed to say to him, " Come and cut me 
 down ! " 
 
 George had often seen his father's men chop 
 down the great trees in the forest, and he thought 
 
6o 
 
 // that it 
 would be fine 
 
 sport to see 
 this tree fall with 
 a crash to the 
 ground. So he set to 
 work with his little hatchet, and, 
 as the tree was a very small one, 
 it did not take long to lay it low. 
 
 Soon after that, his father came home. 
 " Who has been cutting my fine young cherry 
 tree ? " he cried. '' It was the only tree of its kind 
 
6i 
 
 in this country, and it cost nie a great deal oi 
 money." 
 
 He was very angry when he came into the house. 
 
 '' If I only knew who killed that cherry tree,'' he 
 cried, " I would — yes, I would" — 
 
 " Father ! " cried little George. '' I will tell you 
 the truth about it. I chopped the tree down with 
 my hatchet." 
 
 His father forgot his anger. 
 
 " George," he said, and he took the little fellow in 
 his arms, " George, I am glad that you told me 
 about it. I would rather lose a dozen cherry trees 
 than that you should tell one false-hood." • 
 
 GRACE DARLING. 
 
 It was a dark Sep-tem-ber morning. There was 
 a storm at sea. A ship had been driven on a low 
 rock off the shores of the Fame Islands. It had been 
 broken in two by the waves, and half of it had been 
 washed away. The other half lay yet on the rock, and 
 those of the crew who were still alive were clinging 
 to it. But the waves were dashing over it, and in a 
 little while it too would be carried to the bottom. 
 
 Could any one save the poor, half-drowned men 
 who were there ? 
 
62 
 
 On one of the islands was a light-house; and 
 there, all through that stormy night, Grace Darling 
 had listened to the storm. 
 
 Grace was the daughter of the light-house keeper, 
 and she had lived by the sea as long as she could 
 re-mem-ber. 
 
 In the darkness of the night, above the noise of the 
 winds and waves, she heard screams and wild cries. 
 When day-light came, she could see the wreck, a 
 mile away, with the angry waters all around it. She 
 could see the men clinging to the masts. 
 
 " We must try to save them ! " she criedc " Let 
 us go out in the boat at once ! " 
 
 " It is of no use, Grace," said her father. " We 
 cannot reach them." 
 
 He was an old man, and he knew the force of the 
 mighty waves. 
 
 " We cannot stay here and see them die," said 
 Grace. " We must at least try to save them." 
 
 Her father could not say, " No." 
 
 In a few minutes they were ready. They set off 
 in the heavy lighthouse boat. Grace pulled one 
 oar, and her father the other, and they made straight 
 toward the wreck. But it was hard rowing against 
 such a sea, and it seemed as though they would 
 never reach the place. 
 
 At last they were close to the rock, and now 
 
63 
 
 they were in greater danger than before. The fierce 
 waves broke against the boat, and it would have 
 been dashed in pieces, had it not been for the 
 strength and skill of the brave girl. 
 
 But after many trials, Grace's father climbed 
 upon the wreck, while Grace herself held the boat. 
 Then one by one the worn-out crew were helped 
 on board. It was all that the girl could do to keep 
 the frail boat from being drifted away, or broken 
 upon the sharp edges of the rock. 
 
 Then her father clam-bered back into his place. 
 Strong hands grasped the oars, and by and by all 
 were safe in the lighthouse. There Grace proved 
 to be no less tender as a nurse than she had been 
 brave as a sailor. She cared most kindly for the ship- 
 wrecked men until the storm had died away and they 
 were strong enough to go to their own homes. 
 
 All this happened a long time ago, but the name 
 
 of Grace Darling will never be forgotten. She lies 
 
 buried now in a little church-yard by the sea, not 
 
 far from her old home. Every year many people 
 
 go there to see her grave ; and there a mon-u-ment 
 
 has been placed in honor of the brave girl. It is 
 
 not a large mon-u-ment, but it is one that speaks of 
 
 the noble deed which made Grace Darling famous. 
 
 It is a figure carved in stone of a woman lying at 
 
 rest, with a boat's oar held fast in her riHit hnnd^ 
 
 ^^^B R A R yV 
 
 ^r OF TtIK 
 
 f UNI VPRSIT v^ 
 
64 
 
 THE STORY OF WILLIAM TELL. 
 
 The people of ,Svvit-zer-land were not always free 
 and happy as they are to-day. Many years ago a 
 proud tyrant, whose name was Gessler, ruled over 
 them, and made their lot :: bitter one indeed. 
 
 One day this tyrant set up a tall pole in the pub- 
 lic square, and put his own cap on the top of it ; 
 and then he gave orders that every man who came 
 into the town shoulct bow down before it. But 
 there was one mxan, named William Tell, who 
 would not do this. He stood up straight with 
 folded arms, and laughed at the swinging cap. 
 He would not bow down to Gessler himself. 
 
 When Gessler heard of this, he was very angry. 
 He was afraid that other men would disobey, and 
 that soon the whole country would rebel against him. 
 So he made up his mind to punish the bold man. 
 
 William Tell's home was among the mountains, 
 and he was a famous hunter. No one in all the 
 land could shoot with bow and arrow so well as he. 
 Gessler knew this, and so he thought of a cruel plan 
 to make the hunter's own skill bring him to grief. 
 He ordered that TelFs little boy should be made to 
 stand up in the public square with an apple on his 
 head ; and then he bade Tell shoot the apple with 
 one of his arrows. 
 
6s 
 
 Tell begged the tyrant not to have him make 
 this test of. his skill. What if the boy should 
 move ? W hat if the bow-man's hand should trem- 
 ble ? What if the arrow should not carry true ? 
 
 " Will you make me kill my boy ? " he said. 
 
 " Say no more," said Gessler. " You must hit 
 the apple with your one arrow. If you fail, my 
 sol-diers shall kill the boy before your eyes." 
 
 FIFTY FAM. STO. — 5 
 
66 
 
 Then, without another word, Tell fitted the 
 arrow to his bow. He took aim, and let it fly. 
 The boy stood firm and still. He was not afraid, 
 for he had all faith in his father's skill. 
 
 The arrow whistled through the air. It struck 
 the apple fairly in the center, and carried it away. 
 The people who saw it shouted with joy. 
 
 As Tell was turning away from the place, an 
 arrow which he had hidden under his coat dropped 
 to the ground. 
 
 " Fellow ! " cried Gessler, " what mean you with 
 this second arrow ? " 
 
 " Tyrant ! " was Tell's proud answer, " this arrow 
 was for your heart if I had hurt my child." 
 
 And there is an old story, that, not long after 
 this, Tell did shoot the tyrant with one of his 
 arrows ; and thus he set his country free. 
 
 ARNOLD WINKELRIED. 
 
 A GREAT army was marching into Swit-zer-land. 
 If it should go much farther, there would be no 
 driving it out again. The soldiers would burn 
 the towns, they would rob the farmers of their 
 grain and sheep, they would make slaves of the 
 people. 
 
67 
 
 The men of Switzerland knew all this. They 
 knew that they must fight for their homes and 
 their lives. And so they came from the mountains 
 and valleys to try what they could do to save their 
 land. Some came with bows and arrows, some 
 with scythes and pitch-forks, and some with only 
 sticks and clubs. 
 
 But their foes kept in line as they marched along 
 the road. Every soldier was fully armed. As they 
 moved and kept close together, nothing could be 
 seen of them but their spears and shields and shin- 
 ing armor. What could the poor country people 
 do against such foes as these ? 
 
 " We must break their lines," cried their leader ; 
 "for we cannot harm them while they keep to- 
 gether." 
 
 The bowmen shot their arrows, but they glanced 
 off from the soldiers' shields. Others tried clubs 
 and stones, but with no better luck. The lines 
 were still un-bro-ken. The soldiers moved stead-i-ly 
 onward; their shields lapped over one another; 
 their thousand spears looked like so many long 
 bris-tles in the sun-light. What cared they for 
 sticks and stones and hunts-men's arrows ? 
 
 " If we cannot break their ranks," said the Swiss, 
 ''we have no chance for fight, and our country will 
 be lost!" 
 
68 
 
 Then a poor man, whose name was Ar-nold 
 Wink'el-ried, stepped out. 
 
 " On the side of yonder moun-tain," said he, " I 
 have a happy home. There my wife and chil-dren 
 wait for my return. But they will not see me 
 again, for this day I will give my life for my coun- 
 try. And do you, my friends, do your duty, and 
 Switzerland shall be free." 
 
 With these words he ran forward. " Follow 
 me ! " he cried to his friends. " I will break the lines, 
 and then let every man fight as bravely as he can/' 
 
 He had nothing in his hands, neither club nor 
 stone nor other weapon. But he ran straight on- 
 ward to the place where the spears were thickest. 
 
 " Make way for lib-er-ty ! " he cried, as he dashed 
 right into the lines. 
 
 A hundred spears were turned to catch him upon 
 their points. The soldiers forgot to stay in their 
 places. The lines were broken. Arnold's friends 
 rushed bravely after him. They fought with what- 
 ever they had in hand. They snatched spears and 
 shields from their foes. They had no thought of 
 fear. They only thought of their homes and their 
 dear native land. And they won at last. 
 
 Such a battle no one ever knew before. But 
 Switzerland was saved, and Arnold Wink-el-ried did 
 not die in vain. 
 
69 
 
 THE BELL OF ATRL 
 
 A-TRi is the name of a little town in It-a-ly. It is 
 a very old town, and is built half-way up the side of 
 a steep hill. 
 
 A long time ago, the King of Atri bought a fine 
 large bell, and had it hung up in a tower in the 
 market place. A long rope that reached almost to 
 the ground was fas-tened to the bell. The smallest 
 child could ring the bell by pulling upon this rope. 
 
 " It is the bell of justice," said the king. 
 
 When at last everything was ready, the people of 
 Atri had a great holiday. All the men and women 
 and children came down to the market place to look 
 at the bell of justice. It was a very pretty bell, and 
 was pol-ished until it looked almost as bright and 
 yellow as the sun. 
 
 " How we should like to hear it ring ! " they said. 
 
 Then the king came down the street. 
 
 " Perhaps he will ring it," said the people ; and 
 everybody stood very still, and waited to see what 
 he would do. 
 
 But he did not ring the bell. He did not even 
 take the rope in his hands. When he came to the 
 foot of the tower, he stopped, and raised his hand. 
 
 " My people," he said, " do you see this beautiful 
 bell } It is your bell ; but it must never be rung 
 
70 
 
 except in case of need. If any one of you is wronged 
 at any time, he may come and ring the bell ; and 
 then the judges shall come together at once, and 
 hear his case, and give him justice. Rich and poor, 
 old and young, all alike may come; but no one must 
 touch the rope unless he knows that he has been 
 wronged." 
 
 Many years passed by after this. Many times did 
 the bell in the market place ring out to call the 
 judges together. Many wrongs were righted, many 
 ill-doers were punished. At last the hempen rope 
 was almost worn out. The lower part of it was un- 
 twist-ed ; some of the strands were broken ; it became 
 so short that only a tall man could reach it. 
 
 " This will never do," said the judges one day. 
 " What if a child should be wronged ? It could not 
 ring the bell to let us know^ it." 
 
 They gave orders that a new rope should be put 
 upon the bell at once, — a rope that should hang 
 down to the ground, so that the smallest child could 
 reach it. But there was not a rope to be found 
 in all Atri. They would have to send across the 
 mountains for one, and it would be many da3^s 
 before it could be brought. What if some great 
 wrong should be done before it came ? How could 
 the judges know about it, if the in-jured one could 
 not reach the old rope ? 
 
71 
 "Let me fix it for ycu," said a man who stood 
 
 by. _ _ 
 
 He ran into his garden, which was not far away, 
 and soon came back with a long grape-vine in his 
 hands. 
 
 " This will do for a rope," he said ; and he 
 climbed up, and fastened it to the bell. The slen- 
 der vine, with its leaves and ten-drils still upon it, 
 trailed to the ground. 
 
 " Yes," said the judges, " it is a very good rope. 
 Let it be as it is." 
 
 Now, on the hill-side above the village, there 
 lived a man who had once been a brave knight. 
 In his youth he had ridden through many lands, 
 and he had fought in many a battle. Hi^ best 
 friend through all that time had been^his horse, — 
 a strong, noble steed that had borne him safe 
 through many a danger. 
 
 But the knight, when he grew older^ cared no 
 more to ride into battle ; he cared no more to do 
 brave deeds ; he thought of nothing but gold ; he 
 became a miser. At last he sold all that he had, 
 except his horse, and went to live in a little hut 
 on the hill-side. Day after day he sat among his 
 money bags, and planned how he might get more 
 gold ; and day after day his horse stood in his bare 
 stall, half-starved, and shiv-er-ine with cold. 
 
72 
 
 " What is the use of keeping that lazy steed ? " 
 said the miser to himself one morning. " Every 
 week it costs me more to keep him than he is 
 worth. I might sell him; but there is not a man 
 that wants him. I cannot even give him away. I 
 will turn him out to shift for himself, and pick grass 
 by the roadside. If he starves to death, so much 
 the better." 
 
 So the brave old horse was turned out to find 
 what he could among the rocks on the barren hill- 
 side. Lame and sick, he strolled along the dusty 
 roads, glad to find a blade of grass or a thistle. The 
 boys threw stones at him, the dogs barked at him, 
 and in all the world there was no one to pity him. 
 
 One hot afternoon, when no one was upon the 
 street, the horse chanced to wander into the mar- 
 ket place. Not a man nor child was there, for 
 the heat of the sun had driven them all indoors. 
 The gates were wide open; the poor beast could 
 roam where he pleased. He saw the grape-vine 
 rope that hung from the bell of justice. The leaves 
 and tendrils upon it were still fresh and green, for 
 it had not been there long. What a fine dinner 
 they would be for a starving horse ! 
 
 He stretched his thin neck, and took one of the 
 tempting morsels in his mouth. It was hard to 
 break it from the vine. He pulled at it, and the 
 
73 
 
 great bell above ,him began to ring. All the people 
 in Atri heard it. It seemed to say, — 
 
 " Some one 
 
 has done 
 
 me wrong ! 
 
 Some one 
 
 has done 
 
 me wrong I 
 
 Oh ! come 
 
 and judge 
 
 my case ! 
 
 Oh ! come 
 
 and judge 
 
 my case ! 
 
 For I've 
 
 been wronged ! 
 
 !»» 
 
 The judges heard it. They put on their robes, 
 and went out through the hot streets to the mar- 
 ket place. They wondered who it could be who 
 would ring the bell at such a time. When they 
 passed through the gate, they saw the old horse 
 nibbling at the vine. 
 
 " Ha ! " cried one, *' it is the miser's steed. He has 
 come to call for justice ; for his master, as every- 
 body knows, has treated him most shame-ful-ly." 
 
 " He pleads his cause as well as any dumb brute 
 can," said another. 
 
 "And he shall have justice ! " said the third. 
 
 Mean-while a crowd of men and women 'and chil- 
 dren had come into the market place, eager to learn 
 what cause the judges were about to try. When 
 they saw the horse, all stood still in wonder. Then 
 every one was ready to tell how they had seen him 
 wan-der-ing on the hills, unfed, un-cared for, while 
 his master sat at home counting his bags of gold. 
 
 " Go bring the miser before us," said the judges. 
 
'Some one has done me wrong! " 
 
75 
 
 And when he came, they bade him stand and 
 hear their judg-ment. 
 
 " This horse has served you well for many a year," 
 they said. " He has saved you from many a peril. 
 He has helped you gain your wealth. Therefore 
 we order that one half of all your gold shall be set 
 aside to buy him shelter and food, a green pasture 
 where he may graze, and a warm stall to comfort 
 him in his old age." 
 
 The miser hung his head, and grieved to lose his 
 gold ; but the people shouted with joy, and the horse 
 was led away to his new stall and a dinner such as 
 he had not had in. many a day. 
 
 HOW NAPOLEON CROSSED THE ALPS. 
 
 About a hundred years ago there lived a great 
 gen-er-al whose name was Na-po'le-on Bo'na-parte. 
 He was the leader of the French army; and France 
 was at war with nearly all the countries around. 
 He wanted very much to take his soldiers into 
 It-a-ly ; but between France and Italy there are 
 high mountains called the Alps, the tops of which 
 are covered with snow. 
 
 " Is it pos-si-ble to cross the Alps ? " said Na-po- 
 le-on. 
 
76 
 
 The men who had been sent to look at the passes 
 over the mountains shook their heads. Then one 
 of them said, " It may be possible, but '\- — 
 
 " Let me hear no more," said Napoleon. " For- 
 ward to Italy!'' 
 
 People laughed at the thought of an army of 
 sixty thousand men crossing the Alps where there 
 was no road. But Napoleon waited only to see 
 that everything was in good order, and then he 
 gave the order to march. 
 
 The long line of soldiers and horses and cannon 
 stretched for twenty miles. When they came to a 
 steep place where there seemed to be no way to go 
 farther, the trum-pets sounded " Charge ! " Then 
 every man did his best, and the whole army moved 
 right onward. 
 
 Soon they were safe over the Alps. In four days 
 they were marching on the plains of Italy. 
 
 " The man who has made up his mind to win," 
 said Napoleon, " will never say ' Im-pos-si-blCo' " 
 
 THE STORY OF CINCINNATUS. 
 
 There was a man named Cin-cin-na'tus who lived 
 on a little farm not far from the city of Rome. He 
 had once been rich, and had held the highest office 
 
17 
 
 in the land ; but in one way or another he had lost 
 all his wealth. He was now so poor that he had to 
 do all the work on his farm with his own hands. 
 But in those days it was thought to be a noble 
 thing to till the soil. 
 
 Cin-cin-na-tus was so wise and just that every- 
 body trusted him, and asked his advice; and when 
 any one was in trouble, and did not know what to 
 do, his neighbors would say, — 
 
 " Go and tell Cincinnatus. He will help you." 
 
 Now there lived among the mountains, not far 
 away, a tribe of fierce, half-wild men, who were at 
 war with the Roman people. They per-suad-ed 
 another tribe of bold war-riors to help them, and 
 then marched toward the city, plun-der-ing and 
 robbing as they came. They boasted that they 
 would tear down the walls of Rome, and burn the 
 houses, and kill all the men, and make slaves of 
 the women and children. 
 
 At first the Romans, who were very proud and 
 brave, did not think there was much danger. 
 Every man in Rome was a soldier, and the army 
 which went out to fight the robbers was the finest 
 in the world. No one staid at home with the 
 women and children and boys but the white-haired 
 " Fathers," as they were called, who made the laws 
 for the city, and a small company of men who 
 
78 
 
 guarded the walls. Everybody thought that it 
 would be an easy thing to drive the men of the 
 mountains back to the place where they belonged. 
 
 But one morning five horsemen came riding 
 down the road from the mountains. They rode 
 with great speed ; and both men and horses were 
 covered with dust and blood. The watchman at 
 the gate knew them, and shouted to them as they 
 gal-loped in. Why did they ride thus ? and what 
 had happened to the Roman army? 
 
 They did not answer him, but rode into the city 
 and along the quiet streets; and everybody ran 
 after them, eager to find out what was the matter. 
 Rome was not a large city at that time ; and soon 
 they reached the market place where the white- 
 haired Fathers were sitting. Then they leaped 
 from their horses, and told their story. 
 
 " Only yes-ter-day," they said, " our army was 
 marching through a narrow valley between two 
 steep mountains. All at once a thou-sand sav- 
 age men sprang out from among the rocks before 
 us and above us. They had blocked up the way; 
 and the pass was so narrow that we could not 
 fight. We tried to come back; but they had 
 blocked up the way on this side of us too. The 
 fierce men of the mountains were before us and 
 behind us, and they were throwing rocks down 
 
79 
 
 upon us from above. We had been caught in a 
 trap. Then ten of us set spurs to our horses; and 
 five of us forced our way through, but the other 
 five fell before the spears of the mountain men. 
 And now, O Roman Fathers! send help to our 
 army at once, or every man will be slain, and our 
 city will be taken." 
 
 " What shall we do ? " said the white-haired 
 Fathers. " Whom can we send but the guards 
 and the boys ? and who is wise enough to lead 
 them, and thus save Rome ? '' 
 
 All shook their heads and were very grave ; for 
 it seemed as if there was no hope. Then one said, 
 " Send for Cincinnatus. He will help us." 
 
 Cincinnatus was in the field plowing when the 
 men who had been sent to him came in great haste. 
 He stopped and greeted them kindly, and waited 
 for them to speak. 
 
 " Put on your cloak, Cincinnatus," they said, 
 " and hear the words of the Roman people." 
 
 Then Cincinnatus wondered what they could 
 mean. " Is all well with Rome ? " he asked ; and 
 he called to his wife to bring him his cloak. 
 
 She brought the cloak; and Cincinnatus wiped 
 the dust from his hands and arms, and threw it over 
 his shoulders. Then the men told their errand. 
 
 They told him how the army with all the noblest 
 
8o 
 
 men of Rome had been en-trapped in the mountain 
 pass. They told him about the great danger the 
 
 city was in. Then they said, '' The people of Rome* 
 make you their ruler and the ruler of their city, to 
 do with everything as you choose ; and the Fathers 
 
8i 
 
 bid you come at once and go out against our ene- 
 mies, the fierce men of the mountains." 
 
 So Cincinnatus left his plow standing where it 
 was, and hurried to the city. When he passed 
 through the streets, and gave orders as to what 
 should be done, some of the people were afraid, for 
 they knew that he had all power in Rome to do 
 what he pleased. But he armed the guards and 
 the boys, and went out at their head to fight the 
 fierce mountain men, and free the Roman army 
 from the trap into which it had fallen. 
 
 A few days afterward there was great joy in 
 Rome. There was good news from Cincinnatus. 
 The men of the mountains had been beaten with 
 great loss. They had been driven back into their 
 own place. 
 
 And now the Roman army, with the boys and 
 the guards, was coming home with banners flying, 
 and shouts of vic-to-ry; and at their head rode 
 Cincinnatus. He had saved Rome. 
 
 Cincinnatus might then have made himself king; 
 for his word was law, and no man dared lift a finger 
 against him. But, before the people could thank 
 him enough for what he had done, he gave back 
 the power to the white-haired Roman Fathers, and 
 went again to his little farm and his plow. 
 
 He had been the ruler of Rome for sixteen days. 
 
 FIFTY FAM. STO. — 6 
 
82 
 
 THE STORY OF REGULUS. 
 
 On the other side of the sea from Rome there 
 was once a great city named Car-thage. The 
 Roman people were never very friendly to the peo- 
 ple of Car-thage, and at last a war began between 
 them. For a long time it was hard to tell which 
 would prove the stronger. First the Romans 
 would gain a battle, and then the men of Car- 
 thage would gain a battle ; and so the w^ar went on 
 for many years. 
 
 Among the Romans there was a brave gen-er-al 
 named Reg'u-lus, — a man of whom it was said 
 that he never broke his word. It so happened 
 after a while, that Reg-u-lus was taken pris-on-er 
 and carried to Carthage. Ill and very lonely, he 
 dreamed of his wife and little children so far 
 away beyond the sea; and he had but little hope 
 of ever seeing them again. He loved his home 
 dearly, but he believed that his first duty was to 
 his country ; and so he had left all, to fight in 
 this cruel war. 
 
 He had lost a battle, it is true, and had been 
 taken prisoner. Yet he knew that the Romans 
 were gaining ground, and the people of Carthage 
 were afraid of being beaten in the end. They had 
 sent into other countries to hire soldiers to help 
 
83 
 
 them; but even with these they would not be able 
 to fight much longer against Rome. 
 
 One day some of the rulers of Carthage came to 
 the prison to talk with Regulus. 
 
 " We should like to make peace with the Roman 
 people," they said, " and we are sure, that, if your 
 rulers at home knew how the war is going, they 
 would be glad to make peace with us. We will set 
 you free and let you go home, if you will agree to 
 do as we say." 
 
 " What is that ? " asked Regulus. 
 
 " In the first place," they said, " you must tell 
 the Romans about the battles which you have 
 lost, and you must make it plain to them that 
 they have not gained any-thing by the war. In 
 the second place, you must promise us, that, if 
 they will not make peace, you will come back to 
 your prison." 
 
 *' Very well," said Regulus, " I promise you, that, 
 if they will not make peace, I will come back to 
 prison." 
 
 And so they let him go; for they knew that a 
 great Roman would keep his word. 
 
 When he came to Rome, all the people greeted 
 him gladly. His wife and children were very 
 happy, for they thought that now they would not 
 be parted again. The white-haired Fathers who 
 
84 
 
 made the laws for the city came to see him. 
 They asked him about the war. 
 
 " I was sent from Carthage to ask you to make 
 peace," he said. " But it will not be wise to make 
 peace. True, we have been beaten in a few battles, 
 but our army is gaining ground every day. The 
 people of Carthage are afraid, and well they may 
 be. Keep on with the war a little while longer, 
 and Carthage shall be yours. As for me, I have 
 come to bid my wife and children and Rome fare- 
 well. To-morrow I will start back to Carthage and 
 to prison ; for I have promised." 
 
 Then the Fathers tried to persuade him to stay. ^ 
 
 *' Let us send another man in your place," they 
 said. 
 
 " Shall a Roman not keep his word ? " answered 
 Regulus. " I am ill, and at the best have not long 
 to live. I will go back, as I promised." 
 
 His wife and little children wept, and his sons 
 begged him not to leave them again. 
 
 " I have given my word," said Regulus. " The 
 rest will be taken care of." 
 
 Then he bade them good-by, and went bravely 
 back to the prison and the cruel death which he 
 ex-pect-ed. 
 
 This was the kind of courage that made Rome 
 the greatest city in the world. 
 
85 
 
 CORNELIANS JEWELS. 
 
 It was a bright morning in the old city of Rome 
 many hundred years ago. In a vine-covered sum- 
 mer-house in a beautiful garden, two boys were 
 standing. They were looking at their mother and 
 her friend, who were walking among the flowers 
 and trees. 
 
 " Did you ever see so handsome a lady as our 
 mother's friend ? " asked the younger boy, holding 
 his tall brother s hand. " She looks like a queen." 
 
 "Yet she is not so beautiful as our mother," said 
 the elder boy. " She has a fine dress, it is true ; but 
 her face is not noble and kind. It is our mother 
 who is like a queen." 
 
 " That is true," said the other. " There is no 
 woman in Rome so much like a queen as our own 
 dear mother." 
 
 Soon Cor-neli-a, their mother, came down the 
 walk to speak with them. She was simply dressed 
 in a plain white robe. Her arms and feet were 
 bare, as was the custom in those days; and no 
 rings nor chains glit-tered about her hands and 
 neck. For her only crown, long braids of soft 
 brown hair were coiled about her head ; and a 
 tender smile lit up her noble face as she looked 
 into her sons' proud eyes. 
 
86 
 
 '' Boys," she said, " I have something to tell 
 you." 
 
 They bowed before her, as Roman lads were 
 taught to do, and said, " What is it, mother ? " 
 
 " You are to dine with us to-day, here in the gar- 
 den; and then our friend is going to show us that 
 wonderful casket of jewels of which you have heard 
 so much." 
 
 The brothers looked shyly at their mothers 
 friend. Was it possible that she had still other 
 rings besides those on her fingers ? Could she 
 have other gems besides those which sparkled Iq 
 the chains about her neck ? 
 
 When the simple out-door meal was over, a serv- 
 ant brought the casket from the house. The lady 
 opened it. Ah, how those jewels dazzled the eyes 
 of the wondering boys ! There were ropes of pearls, 
 white as milk, and smooth as satin ; heaps of shining 
 rubies, red as the glowing coals ; sap-phires as blue 
 as the sky that summer day ; and di-a-monds that 
 flashed and sparkled like the sunlight. 
 
 The brothers looked long at the gems. 
 
 " Ah ! " whis-pered the younger; "if our mother 
 could only have such beautiful things ! '' 
 
 At last, how-ever, the casket was closed and 
 carried care-ful-ly away. 
 
 " Is it true, Cor-ne-li-a, that you have no jewels .^^ ' 
 
87 
 
 asked her friend. " Is it true, as I have heard it 
 whis-pered, that you are poor ? " 
 
 " No, I am not poor," answered Cornelia, and as 
 she spoke she drew her two boys to her side ; " for 
 here are my jewels. They are worth more than all 
 your gems." 
 
 I am sure that the boys never forgot their 
 mother's pride and love and care ; and in after 
 years, when they had become great men in Rome, 
 they often thought of this scene in the garden. 
 And the world still likes to hear the story of Cor- 
 nelia's jewels. 
 
 ANDROCLUS AND THE LION. 
 
 In Rome there was once a poor slave whose 
 name was An'dro-clus. His master was a cruel 
 man, and so unkind to him that at last An-dro-clus 
 ran away. 
 
 He hid himself in a wild wood for many days ; 
 but there was no food to be found, and he grew so 
 weak and sick that he thought he should die. So 
 one day he crept into a cave and lay down, and 
 soon he was fast asleep. 
 
 After a while a great noise woke him up. A lion 
 had come into the cave, and was roaring loudly. 
 
88 
 
 Androclus was very much afraid, for he felt sure 
 that the beast would kill him. Soon, however, he 
 saw that the lion was not angry, but that he limped 
 as though his foot hurt him. 
 
 Then Androclus grew so bold that he took hold 
 of the lion's lame paw to see what was the matter. 
 The lion stood quite still, and rubbed his head 
 against the man's shoulder. He seemed to say, — 
 
 " I know that you will help me." 
 
 Androclus lifted the paw from the ground, and 
 saw that it was a long, sharp thorn which hurt the 
 lion so much. He took the end of the thorn in^ 
 his fingers ; then he gave a strong, quick pull, and 
 out it came. The lion was full of joy. He jumped 
 about like a dog, and licked the hands and feet of 
 his new friend. 
 
 Androclus was not at all afraid after this; and 
 when night came, he and the lion lay down and 
 slept side by side. 
 
 For a long time, the lion brought food to An- 
 droclus every day ; and the two became such good 
 friends, that Androclus found his new life a very 
 happy one. 
 
 One day some soldiers who were passing 
 through the wood found Androclus in the cave. 
 They knew who he was, and so took him back to 
 Rome. 
 
89 
 
 It was the law at that time that every slave 
 who ran away from his master should be made 
 to fight a hungry lion. So a fierce lion was shut 
 up for a while without food, and a time was set 
 for the fight. 
 
 When the day came, thousands of people 
 crowded to see the sport. They went to such 
 places at that time very much as people now-a-days 
 go to see a circus show or a game of base-ball. 
 
 The door opened, and poor Androclus was 
 brought in. He was almost dead with fear, for the 
 roars of the lion could al-read-y be heard. He 
 looked up, and saw that there was no pity in the 
 thou-sands of faces around him. 
 
 Then the hungry lion rushed in. With a single 
 bound he reached the poor slave. Androclus gave 
 a great cry, not of fear, but of gladness. It was his 
 old friend, the lion of the cave. 
 
 The people, who had ex-pect-ed to see the man 
 killed by the lion, were filled with wonder. They 
 saw Androclus put his arms around the lion's neck ; 
 they saw the lion lie down at his feet, and lick them 
 lov-ing-ly; they saw the great beast rub his head 
 against the slave's face as though he wanted to be 
 petted. They could not un-der-stand what it all 
 meant. 
 
 After a while they asked Androclus to tell them 
 
T'^'^^St^fkii 
 
 Androclus and the Lion. 
 
91 
 
 about it. So he stood up before them, and, with 
 his arm around the lion's neck, told how he and 
 the beast had lived together in the cave. 
 
 " I am a man," he said ; " but no man has ever 
 befriended me. This poor lion alone has been kind 
 to me ; and we love each other as brothers." 
 
 The people were not so bad that they could be 
 cruel to the poor slave now. " Live and be free ! " 
 they cried. " Live and be free ! " 
 
 Others cried, " Let the lion go free too ! Give 
 both of them their liberty!" 
 
 And so Androclus was set free, and the lion was 
 given to him for his own. And they lived together 
 in Rome for many years. 
 
 HORATIUS AT THE BRIDGE. 
 
 Once there was a war between the Roman people 
 and the E-trus'cans who lived in the towns on the 
 other side of the Ti-ber River. Por'se-na, the King 
 of the E-trus-cans, raised a great army, and marched 
 toward Rome. The city had never been in so great 
 danger. 
 
 The Romans did not have very many fighting 
 men at that time, and they knew that they were 
 not strong enough to meet the Etruscans in open 
 
92 
 
 battle. So they kept themselves inside of their 
 walls, and set guards to watch the roads. 
 
 One morning the army of Por-se-na was seen 
 coming over the hills from the north. There were 
 thousands of horsemen and footmen, and they were 
 marching straight toward the wooden bridge which 
 spanned the river at Rome. 
 
 " What shall we do } " said the white-haired 
 Fathers who made the laws for the Roman peo- 
 ple. " If they once gain the bridge, we cannot 
 hinder them from crossing ; and then what hope 
 will there be for the town.f^" 
 
 Now, among the guards at the bridge, there was 
 a brave man named Ho-ra'ti-us. He was on the 
 farther side of the river, and when he saw that 
 the Etruscans were so near, he called out to the 
 Romans who were behind him. 
 
 " Hew down the bridge with all the speed that 
 you can ! " he cried. " I, with the two men who 
 stand by me, will keep the foe at bay." 
 
 Then, with their shields before them, and their 
 long spears in their hands, the three brave men 
 stood in the road, and kept back the horsemen 
 whom Porsena had sent to take the bridge. 
 
 On the bridge the Romans hewed away at the 
 beams and posts. Their axes rang, the chips flew 
 fast ; and soon it trembled, and was ready to fall. 
 
93 
 
 "Come back! come back, and save your lives!" 
 they cried to Ho-ra-ti-us and the two who were with 
 him. 
 
 But just then Porsena's horsemen dashed toward 
 them again. 
 
 " Run for your Hves!" said Horatius to his friends. 
 " I will keep the road." 
 
 They turned, and ran back across the bridge. 
 They had hardly reached the other side when there 
 was a crashing of beams and timbers. The bridge 
 toppled over to one side, and then fell with a great 
 splash into the water. 
 
 When Horatius heard the sound, he knew that 
 the city was safe. With his face still toward 
 Porsena's men, he moved slowly back-ward till he 
 stood on the river's bank. A dart thrown by one 
 of Porsena's soldiers put out his left eye; but he 
 did not falter. He cast his spear at the fore-most 
 horseman, and then he turned quickly around. He 
 saw the white porch of his own home among the 
 trees on the other side of the stream ; 
 
 " And he spake to the noble river 
 
 That rolls by the walls of Rome : 
 
 * O Tiber ! father Tiber ! 
 
 To whom the Romans pray, 
 
 A Roman's life, a Roman's arms, 
 Take thou in charge to-day.* " 
 
94 
 
 He leaped into the deep, swift stream. He still 
 had his heavy armor on ; and when he sank out of 
 sight, no one thought that he would ever be seen 
 again. But he was a strong man, and the best 
 swimmer in Rome. The next minute he rose. He 
 was half-way across the river, and safe from the 
 spears and darts which Porsena's soldiers hurled 
 after him. 
 
 Soon he reached the farther side, where his 
 friends stood ready to help him. Shout after shout 
 greeted him as he climbed upon the bank. (Then 
 Porsena's men shouted also, for they had never seen 
 a man so brave and strong as Horatius. He had 
 kept them out of Rome, but he had done a deed 
 which they could not help but praise. 
 
 As for the Romans, they were very grateful to 
 Horatius for having saved their city. They called 
 him Horatius Co'cles, which meant the "one-eyed 
 Horatius," because he had lost an eye in defending 
 the bridge; they caused a fine statue of brass to 
 be made in his honor ; and they gave him as much 
 land as he could plow around in a day. And for 
 hundreds of years afterwards — 
 
 " With weeping and with laugh-ter, 
 Still was the story told, 
 How well Horatius kept the bridge 
 In the brave days of old." 
 
95 
 
 JULIUS C^SAR. 
 
 Nearly two thousand years ago there lived in 
 Rome a man whose name was Julius Cae'sar. He 
 was the greatest of all the Romans. 
 
 Why was he so great ? 
 
 He was a brave warrior, and had con-quered 
 many countries for Rome. He was wise in plan- 
 ning and in doing. He knew how to make men 
 both love and fear him. 
 
 At last he made himself the ruler of Rome. 
 Some said that he wished to become its king. 
 But the Romans at that time did not believe in 
 kings. 
 
 Once when Cae-sar was passing through a little 
 country village, all the men, women, and children of 
 the place, came out to see him. There were not 
 more than fifty of them, all together, and they were 
 led by their may-or, who told each one what to do. 
 
 These simple people stood by the roadside and 
 watched Caesar pass. The may-or looked very 
 proud and happy ; for was he not the ruler of this 
 village ? He felt that he was almost as great a man 
 as Caesar himself. 
 
 Some of the fine of-fi-cers who were with Caesar 
 laughed. They said, " See how that fellow struts at 
 the head of his little flock ! " 
 
96 
 
 " Laugh as you will," said Caesar, " he has reason 
 to be proud. I would rather be the head man of a 
 village than the second man in Rome ! " 
 
 At an-oth-er time, Caesar was crossing a narrow 
 sea in a boat. Before he was halfway to the farther 
 shore, a storm overtook him. The wind blew hard ; 
 the waves dashed high; the lightning flashed; the 
 thunder rolled. 
 
 It seemed every minute as though the boat would 
 sink. The captain was in great fright. He had 
 crossed the sea many times, but never in such a 
 storm as this. He trembled with fear; he could 
 not guide the boat; he fell down upon his knees; 
 he moaned, " All is lost ! all is lost ! " 
 
 But Caesar was not afraid. He bade the man get 
 up and take his oars again. 
 
 " Why should you be afraid ? " he said. " The 
 boat will not be lost; for you have Caesar on 
 board." 
 
 THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. 
 
 There was once a king whose name was Di-o- 
 nys'i-us. He was so unjust and cruel that he won 
 for himself the name of tyrant. He knew that 
 almost everybody hated him, and so he was always 
 in dread lest some one should take his life. 
 
97 
 
 But he was very rich, and he lived in a fine 
 palace where there were many beautiful and costly 
 things, and he was waited upon by a host of serv- 
 ants who were always ready to do his bidding. 
 One day a friend of his, whose name was Dam^o- 
 cles, said to him, — 
 
 " How happy you must be ! You have here 
 everything that any man could wish." 
 
 " Perhaps you would like to change places with 
 me," said the tyrant 
 
 "No, not that, O king!" said Dam-o-cles; "but 
 I think, that, if I could only have your riches and 
 your pleas-ures for one day, I should not want any 
 greater hap-pi-ness." 
 
 "Very well," said the tyrant. "You shall have 
 them." 
 
 And so, the next day, Damocles was led into the 
 palace, and all the servants were bidden to treat 
 him as their master. He sat down at a table in the 
 banquet hall, and rich foods were placed before him. 
 Nothing was wanting that could give him pleasure. 
 There were costly wines, and beautiful flowers, and 
 rare perfumes, and de-light-ful music. He rested 
 himself among soft cushions, and felt that he was 
 the happiest man in all the world. 
 
 Then he chanced to raise his eyes toward the 
 ceiling. What was it that was dangling above him. 
 
 FIFTY FAM. STO. — 7 
 
lip! 
 
 The Sword of Damocles. 
 
99 
 
 with its point almost touching his head? It was 
 a sharp sword, and it was hung by only a single 
 horse-hair. What if the hair should break ? There 
 was danger every moment that it would do so. 
 
 The smile faded from the lips of Damocles. His 
 face became ashy pale. His hands trembled. He 
 wanted no more food ; he could drink no more 
 wine ; he took no more delight in the music. He 
 longed to be out of the palace, and away, he cared 
 not where. 
 
 " What is the matter ? '' said the tyrant. 
 
 " That sword ! that sword ! " cried Damocles. He 
 was so badly frightened that he dared not move. 
 
 " Yes," said Di-o-nysi-us, " I know there is a sword 
 above your head, and that it may fall at any moment. 
 But why should that trouble you ? I have a sword 
 over my head all the time. I am every moment 
 in dread lest something may cause me to lose my 
 life." 
 
 " Let me go," said Damocles. " I now see that I 
 was mis-tak-en, and that the rich and pow-er-ful are 
 not so happy as they seem. Let me go back to my 
 old home in the poor little cot-tage among the 
 mountains." 
 
 And so long as he lived, he never again wanted 
 to be rich, or to change places, even for a moment 
 with the king. 
 
lOO 
 
 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 
 
 A YOUNG man whose name was Pyth'i-as had 
 done something which the tyrant Dionysius did 
 not Hke. For this offense he was dragged to 
 prison, and a day was set when he should be put 
 to death. His home was far away, and he wanted 
 very much to see his father and mother and friends 
 before he died. 
 
 " Only give me leave to go home and say good-by 
 to those whom I love," he said, " and then I will 
 come back and give up my life." 
 
 The tyrant laughed at him. 
 
 " How can I know that you will keep your prom- 
 ise? " he .said. "You only want to cheat me, and 
 save your-self." 
 
 Then a young man whose name was Da-mon 
 spoke and said, — 
 
 " O king ! put me in prison in place of my friend 
 Pyth-i-as, and let him go to his own country to put 
 his affairs in order, and to bid his friends fare-well. 
 I know that he will come back as he promised, for 
 he is a man who has never broken his word. But 
 if he is not here on the day which you have set, 
 then I will (die in his stead." 
 
 The tyrant was sur-prised that anybody should 
 make such an offer. He at last agreed to let 
 
lOI 
 
 Pythias go, and gave orders that the young man 
 Da-mon should be shut up in prison. 
 
 Time passed, and by and by the day drew near 
 which had been set for Pythias to die; and he had 
 not come back. The tyrant ordered the jailer to 
 keep close watch upon Damon, and not let him 
 escape. But Damon did not try to escape. He 
 still had faith in the truth and honor of his friend. 
 He said, "If Pythias does not come back in time, 
 it will not be his fault. It will be because he is 
 hin-dered against his will." 
 
 At last the day came, and then the very hour. 
 Damon was ready to die. His trust in his friend 
 was as firm as ever; and he said that he did not 
 grieve at having to suffer for one whom he loved 
 so much. 
 
 Then the jailer came to lead him to his death; 
 but at the same moment Pythias stood in the door. 
 He had been de-layed by storms and ship-wreck, 
 and he had feared that he was too late. He greeted 
 Damon kindly, and then gave himself into the hands 
 of the jailer. He was happy because he thought 
 that he had come in time, even though it was at 
 the last moment. 
 
 The tyrant was not so bad but that he could see 
 good in others. He felt that men who loved 
 and trusted each other, as did Damon and Pythias, 
 
102 
 
 ought not to suffer un-just-ly. And so he set them 
 both free. 
 
 " I would give all my wealth to have one such 
 friend," he said. 
 
 A LACONIC ANSWER. 
 f 
 
 Many miles beyond Rome there was a famous 
 country which we call Greece. The people of 
 Greece were not u-nit-ed like the Romans ; but in- 
 stead there were sev-er-al states, each of which had 
 its own rulers. 
 
 Some of the people in the southern part of the 
 country were called Spar-tans, and they were noted 
 for their simple habits and their brav-er-y. The 
 name of their land was La-co'ni-a, and so they 
 were sometimes called La-cons. 
 
 One of the strange rules which the Spartans had, 
 was that they should speak briefly, and never use 
 more words than were needed. And so a short 
 answer is often spoken of as being la-con-ic ; that 
 is, as being such an answer as a Lacon would be 
 likely to give. 
 
 There was in the northern part of Greece a land 
 called Mac'e-don; and this land was at one time 
 ruled over by a war-like king named Philip. 
 
I03 
 
 Philip of Mac-e-don wanted to become the master 
 of all Greece. So he raised a great army, and made 
 war upon the other states, until nearly all of them 
 were forced to call him their king. Then he sent a 
 letter to the Spartans in La-co-ni-a, and said, " If I 
 go down into your country, I will level your great 
 city to the ground." 
 
 In a few days, an answer was brought back to 
 himo When he opened the letter, he found only 
 one word written there. 
 
 That word was " if." 
 
 It was as much as to say, ''We are not afraid of 
 you so long as the little word 'if stands in your 
 way," 
 
 THE UNGRATEFUL GUEST. 
 
 Among the soldiers of King Philip there was a 
 poor man who had done some brave deeds. He 
 had pleased the king in more ways than one, and 
 so the king put a good deal of trust in him. 
 
 One day this soldier was on board of a ship at 
 sea when a great storm came up. The winds drove 
 the ship upon the rocks, and it was wrecked. The 
 soldier was cast half-drowned upon the shore ; and 
 he would have died there, had it not been for the 
 kind care of a farmer who lived close by. 
 
I04 
 
 When the soldier was well 
 enough to go home, he thanked the 
 farmer for what he had done, and prom- 
 ised that he would repay him for his kindness. 
 
 But he did not mean to keep his promise. He 
 did not tell King Philip about the man who had 
 saved his life. He only said that there was a fine 
 
I05 
 
 farm by the seashore, and that he would Hke very 
 much to have it for his own. Would the king give 
 it to him? 
 
 " Who owns the farm now ? " asked Philip. 
 
 " Only a churlish farmer, who has never done any- 
 thing for his country," said the soldier. 
 
 " Very well, then," said Philip. " You have served 
 me for a long time, and you shall have your wish. 
 Go and take the farm for yourself." 
 
 And so the soldier made haste to drive the farmer 
 from his house and home. He took the farm for 
 his own. 
 
 The poor farmer was stung to the heart by such 
 treat-ment. He went boldly to the king, and told 
 the whole story from beginning to end. King 
 Philip was very angry when he learned that the 
 man whom he had trusted had done so base a 
 deed. He sent for the soldier in great haste ; and 
 when he had come, he caused these words to be 
 burned in his forehead : — 
 
 "the ungrateful guest." 
 
 Thus all the world was made to know of the 
 mean act by which the soldier had tried to en- 
 rich himself; and from that day until he died all 
 men shunned and hated him. 
 
io6 
 
 ALEXANDER AND BUCEPHALUS, 
 
 One day King Philip bought a fine horse called 
 Bu-ceph'a-lus. He was a noble an-i-mal, and the king 
 paid a very high price for him. But he was wild 
 and savage, and no man could mount him, or do 
 anything at all with him. 
 
 They tried to whip him, but that only made him 
 worse. At last the king bade his servants take him 
 away. ^ 
 
 " It is a pity to ruin so fine a horse as that," said 
 Al-ex-an'der, the king s young son. " Those men 
 do not know how to treat him.'' 
 
 " Perhaps you can do better than they," said his 
 father scorn-ful-ly. 
 
 " I know," said Al-ex-an-der, " that, if you would 
 only give me leave to try, I could manage this horse 
 better than any one else." 
 
 " And if you fail to do so, what then } " asked 
 Philip. 
 
 " I will pay you the price of the horse," said the 
 lad. 
 
 While everybody was laughing, Alexander ran 
 up to Bu-ceph-a-lus, and turned his head toward the 
 sun. He had noticed that the horse was afraid of 
 his own shadow. 
 
 He then spoke gently to the horse, and patted 
 
107 
 
 him with his hand. When he had qui-et-ed him 
 a little, he made a quick spring, and leaped upon 
 the horse's back. 
 
 Everybody expected to see the boy killed out- 
 right. But he kept his place, and let the horse run 
 as fast as he would. By and by, when Bucephalus 
 had become tired, Alexander reined him in, and rode 
 back to the place where his father was standing. 
 
 All the men who were there shouted when they 
 saw that the boy had proved himself to be the 
 master of the horse. 
 
 He leaped to the ground, and his father ran and 
 kissed him. 
 
 " My son," said the king, " Macedon is too small 
 a place for you. You must seek a larger kingdom 
 that will be worthy of you." 
 
 After that, Alexander and Bucephalus were the 
 best of friends. They were said to be always to- 
 gether, for when one of them was seen, the other 
 was sure to be not far away. But the horse would 
 never allow any one to mount him but his master. 
 
 Alexander became the most famous king and war- 
 rior that was ever known ; and for that reason he 
 is always called Alexander the Great. Bucephalus 
 carried him through many countries and in many 
 fierce battles, and more than once did he save his 
 master's life. 
 
io8 
 
 DIOGENES THE WISE MAN. 
 
 At Cor-inth, in Greece, there lived a very wise 
 man whose name was Di-og'e-nes. Men came 
 from all parts of the land to see him and hear 
 him talk. 
 
 But wise as he was, he had some jvery queer ways. 
 He did not believe that any man ought to have 
 more things than he re-al-ly needed; and he said 
 that no man needed much. And so he did not live 
 in a house, but slept in a tub or barrel, which he 
 rolled about from place to place. He spent his days 
 sitting in the sun, and saying wise things to those 
 who were around him. 
 
 At noon one day, Di-og-e-nes was seen walking 
 through the streets with a lighted lantern, and look- 
 ing all around as if in search of something. 
 
 " Why do you carry a lantern when the sun is 
 shining? " some one said. 
 
 " I am looking for an honest man," answered 
 Diogenes. 
 
 When Alexander the Great went to Cor-inth, all 
 the fore-most men in the city came out to see him 
 and to praise him. But Diogenes did not come ; 
 and he was the only man for whose o-pin-ions 
 Alexander cared. 
 
 And so, since the wise man would not come to 
 
o 
 
no 
 
 see the king, the king went to see the wise man. 
 He found Diogenes in an out-of-the-way place, lying 
 on the ground by his tub. He was en-joy-ing the 
 heat and the light of the sun. 
 
 When he saw the king and a great many people 
 coming, he sat up and looked at Alexander. Alex- 
 ander greeted him and said, — 
 
 " Diogenes, I have heard a great deal about your 
 wisdom. Is there anything that I can do for you ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Diogenes. *' You can stand a little 
 on one side, so as not to keep the sunshine from 
 me." 
 
 This answer was so dif-fer-ent from what he 
 expected, that the king was much sur-prised. 'But 
 it did not make him angry ; it only made him 
 admire the strange man all the more. When he 
 turned to ride back, he said to his officers, — 
 
 " Say what you will ; if I were not Alexander, 
 I would Hke to be Diogenes." 
 
 THE BRAVE THREE HUNDRED. 
 
 All Greece was in danger. A mighty army, led 
 by the great King of Persia, had come from the 
 east. It was marching along the seashore, and in 
 a few days would be in Greece. The great king 
 
had sent mes-sen-gers into every city and state, 
 bidding them give him water and earth in token 
 that the land and the sea were his. But they 
 said, — 
 
 " No : we will be free." 
 
 And so there was a great stir through-out all the 
 land. The men armed themselves, and made haste 
 to go out and drive back their foe ; and the women 
 staid at home, weeping and waiting, and trembling 
 with fear. 
 
 There was only one way by which the Per-sian 
 army could go into Greece on that side, and that 
 was by a narrow pass between the mountains and 
 the sea. This pass was guarded by Le-on'i-das, the 
 King of the Spartans, with three hundred Spartan 
 soldiers. 
 
 Soon the Persian soldiers were seen coming. 
 There were so many of them that no man could 
 count them. How could a handful of men hope to 
 stand against so great a host ? 
 
 And yet Le-on-i-das and his Spartans held their 
 ground. They had made up their minds to die at 
 their post. Some one brought them word that 
 there were so many Persians that their arrows 
 dark-ened the sun. 
 
 ''So much the better," said the Spartans, '* we 
 shall fight in the shade." 
 
J 12 
 
 Bravely they stood in the narrow pass. Bravely 
 they faced their foes. To Spartans there was no 
 such thing as fear. The Persians came forward, 
 only to meet death at the points of their spears. 
 
 But one by one the Spartans fell. At last their 
 spears were broken; yet still they stood side by 
 side, fighting to the last. Some fought with swords, 
 some with daggers, and some with only their fists 
 and teeth. 
 
 All day long the army of the Persians was kept 
 at bay. But when the sun went down, there was 
 not one Spartan left alive. Where they had stood 
 there was only a heap of the slain, all bristled over 
 with spears and arrows. 
 
 Twenty thousand Persian soldiers had fallen 
 before that handful of men. And Greece was 
 saved. 
 
 Thousands of years have passed since then; but 
 men still like to tell the story of Leonidas and the 
 brave three hundred who died for their country's 
 sake. 
 
 SOCRATES AND HIS HOUSE 
 
 There once lived in Greece a very wise man 
 whose name was Soc'ra-tes. Young men from all 
 parts of the land went to him to learn wisdom from 
 
113 
 
 him ; and he said so many pleasant thing^rand' said 
 them in so delightful a way, that no one ever grew 
 tired of listening to him. 
 
 One summer he built himself a house, but it was 
 so small that his neighbors wondered how he could 
 be content with it. 
 
 " What is the reason," said they, " that you, who 
 are so great a man, should build such a little box as 
 this for your dwelling house ? " 
 
 "Indeed, there may be little reason," said he; 
 " but, small as the place is, I shall think myself 
 happy if I can fill even it with true friends." 
 
 THE KING AND HIS HAWK. 
 
 Gen'ghis Khan was a great king and war-rior. 
 
 He led his army into China and Persia, and he 
 con-quered many lands. . In every country, men 
 told about his daring deeds; and they said that 
 since Alexander the Great there had been no king 
 like him. 
 
 One morning when he was home from the wars, 
 he rode out into the woods to have a day's sport. 
 Many of his friends were with him. They rode 
 out gayly, carrying their bows and arrows. Behind 
 them came the servants with the hounds. 
 
 FIFTY FAM. STO. — 8 
 
114 
 
 It was a merry hunting party. The woods rang 
 with their shouts and laughter. They expected to 
 carry much game home in the evening. 
 
 On the king's wrist sat his favorite hawk ; for in 
 those days hawks were trained to hunt. At a word 
 from their masters they would fly high lip into the 
 air, and look around for prey. If they chanced to 
 see a deer or a rabbit, they would swoop down upon 
 it swift as any arrow. 
 
 All day long Gen-ghis Khan and his huntsmen 
 rode through the woods. But they did not find as 
 much game as they expected. 
 
 Toward evening they started for home. The 
 king had often ridden through the woods, and he 
 knew all the paths. So while the rest of the party 
 took the nearest way, he went by a longer road 
 through a valley between two mountains. 
 
 The day had been warm, and the king was very 
 thirsty. His pet hawk had left his wrist and 
 flown away. It would be sure to find its way 
 home. 
 
 The king rode slowly along. He had once seen 
 a spring of clear water near this path-way. If he 
 could only find it now ! But the hot days of sum- 
 mer had dried up all the moun-tain brooks. 
 
 At last, to his joy, he saw some water tric-kling 
 down over the edge of a rock. He knew that there 
 
IIS 
 
 v/as a spring farther up. In the wet season, a swift 
 stream of water always poured down here; but now 
 it came only one drop at a time. 
 
 The king leaped from his horse. He took a little 
 silver cup from his hunting bag. He held it so as 
 to catch the slowly falling drops. 
 
 It took a long time to fill the cup ; and the king 
 was so thirsty that he could hardly wait. At last it 
 was nearly full. He put the cup to his lips, and 
 was about to drink. 
 
 All at once there was a whir-ring sound in the 
 air, and the cup was knocked from his hands. The 
 water was all spilled upon the ground. 
 
 The king looked up to see who had done this 
 thing. It was his pet hawk. 
 
 The hawk flew back and forth a few times, and 
 then alighted among the rocks by the spring. 
 
 The king picked up the cup, and again held it to 
 catch the tric-kling drops. 
 
 This time he did not wait so long. When the 
 cup was half full, he lifted it toward his mouth. 
 But before it had touched his lips, the hawk swooped 
 down again, and knocked it from his hands. 
 
 And now the king began to grow angry. He 
 tried again ; and for the third time the hawk kept 
 him from drinking. 
 
 The king was now very angry indeed. 
 
ii6 
 
 " How do you dare to act so ? " he cried. " If I 
 had you in my hands, I would wring your neck ! " 
 
 Then he filled the cup again. But before he 
 tried to drink, he drew his sword. 
 
 " Now, Sir Hawk," he said, " this is the last 
 time." 
 
 He had hardly spoken, before the hawk swooped 
 down and knocked the cup from, his hand. But the 
 king was looking for this. With a quick sweep of 
 the sword he struck the bird as it passed. 
 
 The next moment the poor hawk lay bleeding and 
 dying at its master's feet. 
 
 " That is what you get for your pains," said Gen- 
 ghis Khan. 
 
 But when he looked for his cup, he found that it 
 had fallen between two rocks, where he could not 
 reach it. 
 
 "At any rate, I will have a drink from that spring," 
 he said to himself. 
 
 With that he began to climb the steep bank to 
 the place from which the water trickled. It was 
 hard work, and the higher he climbed, the thirst-i-er 
 he became. 
 
 At last he reached the place. There indeed was 
 a pool of water ; but what was that lying in the pool, 
 and almost filling it ? It was a huge, dead snake of 
 fBost poi-son-ous kind. 
 
117 
 
 The king stopped. He forgot his thirst. He 
 thought only of the poor dead bird lying on the 
 ground below him. 
 
 " The hawk saved my life ! " he cried ; " and how 
 did I repay him ? He was my best friend, and I 
 have killed him." 
 
ii8 
 
 He clam-bered down the bank. He took the bird 
 up gently, and laid it in his hunting bag. Then he 
 mounted his horse and rode swiftly home. He said 
 to himself, — 
 
 " I have learned a sad lesson to-day ; and that is, 
 never to do any-thing in anger." 
 
 DOCTOR GOLDSMITH. 
 
 There was once a kind man whose name was Oli- 
 ver Gold-smith. He wrote many de-light-ful books, 
 some of which you will read when you are older. 
 
 He had a gentle heart. He was always ready to 
 help others and to share with them anything that he 
 had. He gave away so much to the poor that he 
 was always poor himself. 
 
 He was some-times called Doctor Goldsmith ; for 
 he had studied to be a phy-si-cian. 
 
 One day a poor woman asked Doctor Goldsmith 
 to go and see her husband, who was sick and could 
 not eat. 
 
 Goldsmith did so. He found that the family was 
 in great need. The man had not had work for a 
 long time. He was not sick, but in distress ; and, 
 as for eating, there was no food in the house. 
 
 " Call at my room this evening," said Goldsmith 
 
119 
 
 to the woman, " and I will give you some med-i-cine 
 for your husband." 
 
 In the evening the woman called. Goldsmith 
 gave her a little paper box that was very heavy. 
 
 " Here is the med-i-cine," he said. '' Use it faith- 
 ful-ly, and I think it will do your husband a great 
 deal of good. But don't open the box until you 
 reach home." 
 
 " What are the di-rec-tions for taking it.f^ " asked 
 the woman. 
 
 " You will find them inside of the box," he an- 
 swered. 
 
 When the woman reached her home, she sat 
 down by her husband's side, and they opened the 
 box. What do you think they found in it ? 
 
 It was full of pieces of money. And on the top 
 were the di-rec-tions : — 
 
 "to be taken as often as ne-ces-si-ty requires." 
 
 Goldsmith had given them all the ready money 
 that he had. 
 
 THE KINGDOMS. 
 
 There was once a king of Prussia whose name 
 was Frederick William. 
 
 On a fine morning in June he went out alone to 
 walk in the green woods. He was tired of the 
 
I20 
 
 noise of the city, and he was glad to get away 
 from it. 
 
 So, as he walked among the trees, he often stopped 
 to listen to the singing birds, or to look at the wild 
 flowers that grew on every side. Now and then he 
 stooped to pluck a violet, or a primrose, or a yellow 
 but-ter-cup. Soon his hands were full of pretty 
 blossoms. r 
 
 After a while he came to a little meadow in the 
 midst of the wood. Some children were playing 
 there. They were running here and there, and 
 gathering the cow-slips that were blooming among 
 the grass. 
 
 It made the king glad to see the happy children, 
 and hear their merry voices. He stood still for 
 some time, and watched them as they played. 
 
 Then he called them around him, and all sat 
 down to-geth-er in the pleasant shade. The chil- 
 dren did not know who the strange gentleman 
 was ; but they liked his kind face and gentle 
 manners. 
 
 " Now, my little folks," said the king, " I want to 
 ask you some ques-tions, and the child who gives 
 the best answer shall have a prize." 
 
 Then he held up an orange so that all the chil- 
 dren could see. 
 
 " You know that we all live in the king-dom of 
 
T2T 
 
 
 Prussia/' he said ; " but tell me, to what king-dom 
 does this orange belong?" 
 
 The children were puz-zled. They looked at one 
 
122 
 
 another, and sat very still for a little whiko* Then 
 a brave, bright boy spoke up and said, — 
 
 " It belongs to the veg-e-ta-ble kingdom, sir." 
 
 " Why so, my lad ? " asked the king. 
 
 " It is the fruit of a plant, and all plants belong 
 to that kingdom," said the boy. 
 
 The king was pleased. " You are quite right," 
 he said; "and you shall have the orange for your 
 prize." 
 
 He tossed it gayly to the boy. " Catch it if you 
 can ! " he said. 
 
 Then he took a yellow gold piece from his pocket, 
 and held it up so that it glit-tered in the sunlight. 
 
 "Now to what kingdom does this belong?" he 
 asked. 
 
 Another bright boy answered quick-ly, " To the 
 min-er-al kingdom, sir ! All metals belong to that 
 kingdom." 
 
 "That is a good answer," said the king. "The 
 gold piece is your prize." 
 
 The children were de-light-ed. With eager faces 
 they waited to hear what the stranger would say 
 next. 
 
 " I will ask you only one more question," said the 
 king, " and it is an easy one.'' Then he stood up, 
 and said, " Tell me, my little folks, to what kingdom 
 do I belong ? " 
 
123 
 
 The bright boys were puz-zled now. Some 
 thought of saying, "To the kingdom of Prussia." 
 Some wanted to say, " To the animal kingdom." 
 But they were a little afraid, and all kept still. 
 
 At last a tiny blue-eyed child looked up into the 
 king's smiling face, and said in her simple way, — 
 
 " I think to the kingdom of heaven." 
 
 King Frederick William stooped down and lifted 
 the little maiden in his arms. Tears were in his 
 eyes as he kissed her, and said, "So be it, my 
 child 1 So be it." 
 
 THE BARMECIDE FEAST. 
 
 There was once a rich old man who was called 
 the Bar-me-cide. He lived in a beautiful palace in 
 the midst of flowery gardens. He had every-thing 
 that heart could wish. 
 
 In the same land there was a poor man whose 
 name was Schac-a-bac. His clothing was rags, and 
 his food was the scraps which other people had 
 thrown away. But he had a light heart, and was 
 as happy as a king. 
 
 Once when Schac-a-bac had not had anything to 
 eat for a long time, he thought that he would go 
 and ask the Bar-me-cide to help him. 
 
124 
 
 The servant at the door said, " Come in and talk 
 with our master. He will not send you away hun- 
 gry-" 
 
 Schacabac went in, and passed through many 
 
 beautiful rooms, looking for the Barmecide. At 
 last he came to a grand hall where there were soft 
 carpets on the floor, ar(d fine pictures on the walls, 
 and pleasant couches to lie down upon. 
 
 At the upper end of the room he saw a noble 
 man with a long white beard. It was the Barme- 
 cide ; and poor Schacabac bowed low before him, 
 as was the custom in that country. 
 
 The Barmecide spoke very kindly, and asked 
 what was wanted. 
 
 Schacabac told him about all his troubles, and 
 said that it was now two days since he had tasted 
 bread. 
 
 " Is it possible ? " said the Barmecide. " You 
 must be almost dead with hunger ; and here I have 
 plenty and to spare ! " 
 
 Then he turned and called, " Ho, boy ! Bring in 
 the water to wash our hands, and then order the 
 cook to hurry the supper." 
 
 Schacabac had not expected to be treated so 
 kindly. He began to thank the rich man. 
 
 " Say not a word," said the Barmecide, '' but let 
 us get ready for the feast." 
 
125 
 
 Then the rich man began to rub his hands as 
 though some one was pouring water on them. 
 " Come and wash with me," he said. 
 
 Schacabac saw no boy, nor basin, nor water. 
 But he thought that he ought to do as he was 
 bidden ; and so, like the Barmecide, he made a 
 pretense of washing. 
 
 "Come now," said the Barmecide, "let us have 
 supper." 
 
 He sat down, as if to a table, and pre-tend-ed to 
 be carving a roast. Then he said, " Help yourself, 
 my good friend. You said you were hungry: so, 
 now, don't be afraid of the food." 
 
 Schacabac thought that he un-der-stood the joke, 
 and he made pretense of taking food, and passing it 
 to his mouth. Then he began to chew, and said, 
 " You see, sir, I lose no time." 
 
 " Boy," said the old man, " bring on the roast 
 goose. — Now, my good friend, try this choice piece 
 from the breast. And here are sweet sauce, honey, 
 raisins, green peas, and dry figs. Help yourself, 
 and remember that other good things are coming." 
 
 Schacabac was almost dead with hunger, but he 
 was too polite not to do as he was bidden. 
 
 '' Come," said the Barmecide, " have another piece 
 of the roast lamb. Did you ever eat anything so 
 de-li-cious ? " 
 
126 
 
 " Never in my life," said Schacabac. " Your table 
 is full of good things." 
 
 " Then eat heartily," said the Barmecide. " You 
 cannot please me better." 
 
 After this came the des-sert. The Barmecide 
 spoke of sweet-meats and fruits ; and Schacabac 
 made believe that he was eating them. 
 
 "Now is there anything else that you would 
 like ? " asked the host. 
 
 " Ah, no ! " said poor Schacabac. " I have indeed 
 had great plenty." 
 
 " Let us drink, then," said the Barmecide. " Boy, 
 bring on the wine ! " 
 
 " Excuse me, my lord," said Schacabac, *' I will 
 drink no wine, for it is for-bid-den." 
 
 The Barmecide seized him by the hand. " I have 
 long wished to find a man like you," he said. " But 
 come, now we will sup in earnest." 
 
 He clapped his hands. Servants came, and he 
 ordered supper. Soon they sat down to a table 
 loaded with the very dishes of which they had pre- 
 tend-ed to eat. 
 
 Poor Schacabac had never had so good a meal in 
 all his life. When they had fin-ished, and the table 
 had been cleared away, the Barmecide said, — 
 
 " I have found you to be a man of good un-der- 
 stand-ing. Your wits are quick, and you are ready 
 
127 
 
 always to make the best of everything. Come and 
 live with me, and manage my house." 
 
 And so Schacabac lived with the Barmecide many 
 years, and never again knew what it was to be 
 hungry. 
 
 THE ENDLESS TALE. 
 
 In the Far East there was a great king who had 
 no work to do. Every day, and all day long, he sat 
 on soft cush-ions and lis-tened to stories. And no 
 matter what the story was about, he never grew 
 tired of hearing it, even though it was very long. 
 
 " There is only one fault that I find with your 
 story," he often said : " it is too short." 
 
 All the story-tellers in the world were in-vit-ed to 
 his palace ; and some of them told tales that were 
 very long indeed. But the king was always sad 
 when a story was ended. 
 
 At last he sent word into every city and town 
 and country place, offering a prize to any one who 
 should tell him an endless tale. He said, — 
 
 " To the man that will tell me a story which shall 
 last forever, I will give my fairest daugh-ter for his 
 wife ; and I will make him my heir, and he shall be 
 king after me." 
 
 But this was not all. He added a very hard con- 
 
128 
 
 di-tion. ** If any man shall try to tell such a story 
 and then fail, he shall have his head cut off." 
 
 The king's daughter was very pretty, and there 
 were many young men in that country who were 
 willing to do anything to win her. But none of 
 them wanted to lose their heads, and so only a few 
 tried for the prize. ^ 
 
 One young man invented a story that lasted three 
 months ; but at the end of that time, he could think 
 of nothing more. His fate was a warning to others, 
 and it was a long time before another story-teller 
 was so rash as to try the king's patience. 
 
 But one day a stran-ger from the South came into 
 the palace. 
 
 '' Great king," he said, " is it true that you offer a 
 prize to the man who can tell a story that has no 
 end ? " 
 
 " It is true," said the king. 
 
 " And shall this man have your fairest daughter 
 for his wife, and shall he be your heir ? " 
 
 " Yes, if he suc-ceeds," said the king. " But if he 
 fails, he shall lose his head." 
 
 " Very well, then," said the stran-ger. " I have a 
 pleasant story about locusts which I would like to 
 relate.'' 
 
 '' Tell it," said the king. " I will listen to you." 
 
 The story-teller began his tale. 
 
129 
 
 " Once upon a time a certain king seized upon 
 all the corn in his country, and stored it away in a 
 strong gran-a-ry. But a swarm of locusts came 
 over the land and saw where the grain had been 
 put. After search-ing for many days they found 
 on the east side of the gran-a-ry a crev-ice that was 
 just large enough for one locust to pass through at 
 a time. So one locust went in and carried away a 
 grain of corn ; then another locust went in and car- 
 ried away a grain of corn ; then another locust went 
 in and carried away a grain of corn." 
 
 Day after day, week after week, the man kept on 
 saying, " Then another locust went in and carried 
 away a grain of corn." 
 
 A month passed ; a year passed. At the end of 
 two years, the king said, — 
 
 " How much longer will the locusts be going in 
 and carrying away corn ? " 
 
 " O king ! " said the story-teller, " they have as yet 
 cleared only one cubit ; and there are many thou- 
 sand cubits in the granary." 
 
 " Man, man ! " cried the king, " you will drive me 
 mad. I can listen to it no longer. Take my 
 daughter ; be my heir ; rule my kingdom. But do 
 not let me hear another word about those horrible 
 locusts ! " 
 
 And so the strange story-teller married the 
 
 FIFTY FAM. STO. — 9 
 
/ 
 
 ( ^3^ ) 
 
 king's daughter. And he Hved happily in the land 
 for many years. But his father-in-law, the king, 
 did not care to listen to any more stories. 
 
 THE BLIND MEN AND THE ELEPHANT. 
 
 There were once six blind men who stood by the 
 road-side every day, and begged from the people 
 who passed. They had often heard of el-e-phants, 
 but they had never seen onej for, being blind, 
 how could they } 
 
 It so happened one morning that an el-e-phant 
 was driven down the road where they stood. 
 When they were told that the great beast was 
 before them, they asked the driver to let him stop 
 so that they might see him. 
 
 Of course they could not see him with their eyes ; 
 but they thought that by touching him they could 
 learn just what kind of animal he was. 
 
 The first one happened to put his hand on the 
 elephant's side. " Well, well ! " he said, " now I know 
 all about this beast. He is ex-act-ly like a wall." 
 
 The second felt only of the elephant's tusk. " My 
 brother," he said, '' you are mistaken. He is not at 
 all like a wall. He is round and smooth and sharp. 
 He is more like a spear than anything else." 
 
131 
 
 The third happened to take hold of the elephant's, 
 trunk. " Both of you are wrong," he said. " Any- 
 body who knows anything can see that this elephant 
 is like a snake." 
 
 The fourth reached out his arms, and grasped 
 one of the elephant's legs. " Oh, how blind you 
 are ! " he said. " It is very plain to me that he is 
 round and tall like a tree." 
 
 The fifth was a very tall man, and he chanced to 
 take hold of the elephant s ear. " The blind-est man 
 ought to know that this beast is not like any of the 
 things that you name," he said. " He is ex-act-ly 
 like a huge fan." 
 
 The sixth was very blind indeed, and it was some 
 time before he could find the elephant at all. At 
 last he seized the animals tail. " O foolish fel- 
 lows ! " he cried. " You surely have lost your senses. 
 This elephant is not like a wall, or a spear, or a 
 snake, or a tree ; neither is he like a fan. But any 
 man with a par-ti-cle of sense can see that he is ex- 
 actly like a rope." 
 
 Then the elephant moved on, and the six blind 
 men sat by the roadside all day, and quar-reled 
 about him. Each believed that he knew just how 
 the animal looked ; and each called the others 
 hard names because they did not agree with him. 
 People who have eyes sometimes act as foolishly. 
 
132 
 
 MAXIMILIAN AND THE GOOSE BOY. 
 
 One summer day King Max-i-mirian of Ba-va'ri a 
 was walking in the country. The sun shone hot, 
 and he stopped under a tree to rest. 
 
 It was very pleasant in the cool shade. The 
 king lay down on the soft grass, and looked up 
 at the white clouds sailing across the sky. Then 
 he took a little book from his pocket and tried to 
 read. 
 
 But the king could not keep his mind on his book. 
 Soon his eyes closed, and he was fast asleep. 
 
 It was past noon when he awoke. He got up 
 from his grassy bed, and looked around. Then he 
 took his cane in his hand, and started for home. 
 
 When he had walked a mile or more, he happened 
 to think of his book. He felt for it in his pocket. 
 It was not there. He had left it under the tree. 
 
 The king was already quite tired, and he did not 
 like to walk back so far. But he did not wish to 
 lose the book. What should he do ? 
 
 If there was only some one to send for it ! 
 
 While he was thinking, he happened to see a 
 little bare-foot-ed boy in the open field near the 
 road. He was tending a large flock of geese that 
 were picking the short grass, and wading in a shal- 
 low brook. 
 
133 
 
 The king went toward the boy. He held a gold 
 piece in his hand. 
 
 " My boy," he said, " how would you like to have 
 this piece of money ? " 
 
 " I would like it," said the boy ; " but I never hope 
 to have so much." 
 
 " You shall have it if you will run back to the oak 
 tree at the second turning of the road, and fetch me 
 the book that I left there." 
 
 The king thought that the boy would be pleased. 
 But not so. He turned away, and said, " I am not 
 so silly as you think." 
 
 "What do you mean.'^" said the king. "Who 
 says that you are silly ? " 
 
 " Well," said the boy, " you think that I am silly 
 enough to believe that you will give me that gold 
 piece for running a mile, and fetch-ing you a book. 
 You can't catch me." 
 
 " But if I give it to you now, perhaps you will be- 
 lieve me," said the king; and he put the gold piece 
 into the little fellow's hand. 
 
 The boy s eyes spar-kled ; but he did not move. 
 
 " What is the m^atter now ? " said the king. 
 " Won't you go ? " 
 
 The boy said, " I would like to go ; but I can't 
 leave the geese. They will stray away, and then 1 
 shall be blamed for it." 
 
7 -:''. 
 
 ' Crack the whip ^ ' 
 
I3S 
 
 " Oh, I will tend them while you are away," said 
 the king. 
 
 The boy laughed. ''I should like to see you 
 tending them!" he said. ''Why, they would run 
 away from you in a minute." 
 
 " Only let me try," said the king. 
 
 At last the boy gave the king his whip, and 
 started off. He had gone but a little way, when he 
 turned and came back. 
 
 " What is the matter now ? " said Max-i-mil-ian. 
 
 " Crack the whip ! " 
 
 The king tried to do as he was bidden, but he 
 could not make a sound. 
 
 " I thought as much," said the boy. '' You don't 
 know how to do anything." 
 
 Then he took the whip, and gave the king lessons 
 in whip cracking. " Now you see how it is done," 
 he said, as he handed it back. " If the geese try 
 to run away, crack it loud." 
 
 The king laughed. He did his best to learn his 
 lesson ; and soon the boy again started off on his 
 errand. 
 
 Maximilian sat down on a stone, and laughed at 
 the thought of being a goose-herd. But the geese 
 missed their master at once. With a great cac-kling 
 and hissing they went, half flying, half running, 
 across the meadow. 
 
136 
 
 The king ran after them, but he could not run 
 fast. He tried to crack the whip, but it was of no 
 use. The geese were soon far away. What was 
 worse, they had gotten into a garden, and were feed- 
 ing on the tender veg-e-ta-bles. 
 
 A few minutes after-ward, the goose boy came 
 back with the book. 
 
 " Just as I thought," he said. " I have found the 
 book, and you have lost the geese." 
 
 " Never mind," said the king, " I will help you 
 get them again." 
 
 " Well, then, run around that way, and stand 
 by the brook while I drive them out of the gar- 
 den." 
 
 The king did as he was told. The boy ran for- 
 ward with his whip, and after a great deal of shout- 
 ing and scolding, the geese were driven back into 
 the meadow. 
 
 " I hope you will pardon me for not being a bet- 
 ter goose-herd," said Maximilian ; " but, as I am a 
 king, I am not used to such work." 
 
 " A king, indeed ! " said the boy. " I was very 
 silly to leave the geese with you. But I am not so 
 silly as to believe that you are a king." 
 
 **Very well," said Maximilian, with a smile; 
 "here is another gold piece, and now let us be 
 friends." 
 
137 
 
 The boy took the gold, and thanked the given 
 He looked up into the king s face and said, — 
 
 *' You are a very kind man, and I think you 
 might be a good king ; but if you were to try all 
 your life, you would never be a good gooseherd." 
 
 THE INCHCAPE ROCK. 
 
 In the North Sea there is a great rock called the 
 Inch-cape Rock. It is twelve miles from any land, 
 and is covered most of the time with water. 
 
 Many boats and ships have been wrecked on that 
 rock ; for it is so near the top of the water that no 
 vessel can sail over it without striking it. 
 
 More than a hundred years ago there lived not 
 far away a kind-heart-ed man who was called the 
 Abbot of Ab-er-broth-ock. 
 
 " It is a pity," he said, " that so many brave sail- 
 ors should lose their lives on that hidden rock." 
 
 So the abbot caused a buoy to be fastened to the 
 rock. The buoy floated back and forth in the shal- 
 low water. A strong chain kept it from floating 
 away. 
 
 On the top of the buoy the abbot placed a bell ; 
 and when the waves dashed against it, the bell 
 would ring out loud and clear. 
 
138 
 
 Sailors, now, were no longer afraid to cross the 
 sea at that place. When they heard the bell ring- 
 ing, they knew just where the rock was, and they 
 steered their vessels around it. 
 
 " God bless the good Abbot of Ab-er-broth-ock ! " 
 they all said. 
 
 One calm summer day, a ship with a black flag 
 happened to sail not far from the Inch-cape Rock. 
 The ship belonged to a sea robber called Ralph the 
 Rover; and she was a terror to all honest people both 
 on sea and shore. 
 
 There was but little wind that day, and the sea 
 was as smooth as glass. The ship stood almost 
 still ; there was hardly a breath of air to fill her sails. 
 
 Ralph the Rover was walking on the deck. He 
 looked out upon the glassy sea. He saw the buoy 
 floating above the Inchcape Rock. It looked like 
 a big black speck upon the water. But the bell 
 was not ringing that day. There were no waves to 
 set it in motion. 
 
 " Boys ! " cried Ralph the Rover ; " put out the 
 boat, and row me to the Inchcape Rock. We will 
 play a trick on the old abbot." 
 
 The boat was low-ered. Strong arms soon rowed 
 it to the Inchcape Rock. Then the robber, with a 
 heavy ax, broke the chain that held the buoy. 
 
 He cut the fas-ten-ings of the bell. It fell into the 
 
139 
 
 water. There was a gur-gling sound as it sank out 
 of sight. 
 
 " The next one that comes this way will not bless 
 the abbot," said Ralph the Rover. . 
 
 Soon a breeze sprang up, and the black ship sailed 
 away. The sea robber laughed as he looked back 
 and saw that there was nothing to mark the place 
 of the hidden rock. 
 
 For many days, Ralph the Rover scoured the 
 seas, and many were the ships that he plun-dered. 
 At last he chanced to sail back toward the place 
 from which he had started. 
 
 The wind had blown hard all day. The waves 
 rolled high. The ship was moving swiftly. But 
 in the evening the wind died away, and a thick fog 
 came on. 
 
 Ralph the Rover walked the deck. He could 
 not see where the ship was going. " If the fog 
 would only clear away ! " he said. 
 
 " I thought I heard the roar of breakers," said 
 the pilot. " We must be near the shore." 
 
 " I cannot tell," said Ralph the Rover ; " but I 
 think we are not far from the Inchcape Rock. I 
 wish we could hear the good abbot s bell." 
 
 The next moment there was a great crash. " It 
 is the Inchcape Rock ! " the sailors cried, as the 
 ship gave a lurch to one side, and began to sink. 
 
140 
 
 " Oh, what a wretch am I ! " cried Ralph the 
 Rover. " This is what comes of the joke that I 
 played on the good abbot ! " 
 
 What was it that he heard as the waves rushed 
 over him ? Was it the abbot's bell, ringing for him 
 far down at the bottom of the sea ? 
 
 WHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT. 
 
 I. THE CITY. 
 
 There was once a little boy whose name was 
 Richard Whit'ting-ton ; but everybody called him 
 Dick. His father and mother had died when he 
 was only a babe, and the people who had the care 
 of him were very poor. Dick was not old enough 
 to work, and so he had a hard time of it indeed. 
 Sometimes he had no break-fast, and sometimes he 
 had no dinner ; and he was glad at any time to get 
 a crust of bread or a drop of milk. 
 
 Now, in the town where Dick lived, the people 
 liked to talk about London. None of them had 
 ever been to the great city, but they seemed to 
 know all about the wonderful things which were to 
 be seen there. They said that all the folks who 
 lived in London were fine gen-tle-men and ladies ; 
 that there was singing and music there all day 
 
141 
 
 long ; that nobody was ever hungry there, and no- 
 body had to work; and that the streets were all 
 paved with gold. 
 
 Dick listened to these stories, and wished that he 
 could go to London. 
 
 One day a big wagon drawn by eight horses, all 
 with bells on their heads, drove into the little town. 
 Dick saw the wagon standing by the inn, and he 
 thought that it must be going to the fine city of 
 London. 
 
 When the driver came out and was ready to start, 
 the lad ran up and asked him if he might walk by 
 the side of the wagon. The driver asked him 
 some questions ; and when he learned how poor 
 Dick was, and that he had neither father nor 
 mother, he told him that he might do as he liked. 
 
 It was a long walk for the little lad ; but by and 
 by he came to the city of London. He was in such 
 a hurry to see the wonderful sights, that he forgot 
 to thank the driver of the wagon. He ran as 
 fast as he could, from one street to another, try- 
 ing to find those that were paved with gold. He 
 had once seen a piece of money that was gold, and 
 he knew that it would buy a great, great many 
 things ; and now he thought that if he could get 
 only a little bit of the pave-ment, he would have 
 everything that he wanted. 
 
142 
 
 Poor Dick ran till he was so tired that he could 
 run no farther. It was growing dark, and in every 
 street there was only dirt instead of gold. He sat 
 down in a dark corner, and cried himself to sleep. 
 
 When he woke up the next morning, he was very 
 hungry ; but there was not even a crust of bread for 
 him to eat. He forgot all about the golden pave- 
 ments, and thought only of food. He walked about 
 from one street to another, and at last grew so 
 hungry that he began to ask those whom he met 
 to give him a penny to buy something to eat. 
 
 " Go to work, you idle fellow," said some of them ; 
 and the rest passed him by without even looking at 
 him. 
 
 " I wish I could go to work ! " said Dick. 
 
 II. THE KITCHEN. 
 
 By and by Dick grew so faint and tired that he 
 could go no farther. He sat down by the door of a 
 fine house, and wished that he was back again in 
 the little town where he was born. The cook-maid, 
 who was just getting dinner, saw him, and called 
 out, — 
 
 " What are you doing there, you little beggar .f^ If 
 you don't get away quick. Til throw a panful of hot 
 dish-water over you. Then I guess you will jump." 
 
H3 
 
 Just at that time the master of the house, whose 
 name was Mr. Fitz-war'ren, came home to dinner. 
 When he saw the ragged little fellow at his door, 
 he said, — . * 
 
 " My lad, what are you doing here ? I am afraid 
 you are a lazy fellow, and that you want to live 
 without work." 
 
 " No, indeed! " said Dick. " I would like to work, if 
 I could find anything to do. But I do not know 
 anybody in this town, and I have not had anything 
 to eat for a long time." 
 
 " Poor little fellow! " said Mr. Fitz-war-ren. " Come 
 in, and I will see what I can do for you." And he 
 ordered the cook to give the lad a good dinner, and 
 then to find some light work for him to do. 
 
 Little Dick would have been very happy in the 
 new home which he had thus found, if it had not 
 been for the cross cook. She would often say, — 
 
 " You are my boy now, and so you must do as I 
 tell you. Look sharp there ! Make the fires, carry 
 out the ashes, wash these dishes, sweep the floor, 
 bring in the wood! Oh, what a lazy fellow you 
 are ! " And then she would box his ears, or beat 
 him with the broom-stick. 
 
 At last, little Alice, his master's daughter, saw 
 how he was treated, and she told the cook she 
 would be turned off if she was not kinder to the 
 
144 
 
 lad. After that, Dick had an eas-i-er time of it ; but 
 his troubles were not over yet, by any means. 
 
 His bed was in a garret at the top of the house, 
 far away from the rooms where the other people 
 slept. There were many holes in the floor and 
 walls, and every night a great number of rats and 
 mice came in. They tor-ment-ed Dick so much, 
 that he did not know what to do. 
 
 One day a gentleman gave him a penny for 
 cleaning his shoes, and he made up his mind that 
 he would buy a cat with it. The very next morn- 
 ing he met a girl who was car-ry-ing a cat in 
 her arms. 
 
 " I will give you a penny for that cat," he said. 
 
 " All right," the girl said. " You may have her, 
 and you will find that she is a good mouser 
 too." 
 
 Dick hid his cat in the garret, and every day he 
 carried a part of his dinner to her. It was not long 
 before she had driven all the rats and mice away; 
 and then Dick could sleep soundly every night. 
 
 III. THE VENTURE. 
 
 Some time after that, a ship that belonged to 
 Mr. Fitzwarren was about to start on a voyage 
 across the sea. It was loaded with goods which 
 
MS 
 
 were to be sold in lands far away. Mr. Fitzwarren 
 wanted to give his servants a chance for good 
 fortune too, and so he called all of them into the 
 parlor, and asked if they had anything they would 
 like to send out in the ship for trade. 
 
 Every one had something to send, — every one 
 but Dick ; and as he had neither money nor goods, 
 he staid in the kitchen, and did not come in with 
 the rest. Little Alice guessed why he did not 
 come, and so she said to her papa, — 
 
 " Poor Dick ought to have a chance too. Here 
 is some money out of my own purse that you may 
 put in for him." 
 
 " No, no, my child ! " said Mr. Fitzwarren. " He 
 must risk something of his own." And then he 
 called very loud, '' Here, Dick ! What are you 
 going to send out on the ship ? " 
 
 Dick heard him, and came into the room. 
 
 " I have nothing in the world," he said, " but 
 a cat which I bought some time ago for a 
 penny." 
 
 " Fetch your cat, then, my lad," said Mr. Fitz- 
 warren, " and let her go out. Who knows but that 
 she will bring you some profit. ^^ " 
 
 Dick, with tears in his eyes, carried poor puss 
 down to the ship, and gave her to the cap- 
 tain. Everybody laughed at his queer venture; 
 
 FIFTY FAM. STO. — lO 
 
146 
 
 but little Alice felt sorry for him, and gave him 
 money to buy another cat. 
 
 After that, the cook was worse than before. She 
 made fun of him for sending his cat to sea. " Do 
 you think," she would say, " that puss will sell for 
 enough money to buy a stick to beat you } " 
 
147 
 
 At last Dick could not stand her abuse any longer, 
 and he made up his mind to go back to his old 
 home in the little country town. So, very early in 
 the morning on All-hal-lows Day, he started. He 
 walked as far as the place called Hol-lo-way, and 
 there he sat down on a stone, which to this day is 
 called "Whit-ting-ton's Stone." 
 
 As he sat there very sad, and wondering which 
 way he should go, he heard the bells on Bow 
 Church, far away, ringing out a merry chime. He 
 listened. They seemed to say to him, — 
 
 " Turn again, Whittington, 
 Thrice Lord Mayor of London." 
 
 " Well, well ! " he said to himself. " I would put 
 up with almost anything, to be Lord Mayor of 
 London when I am a man, and to ride in a fine 
 coach ! I think I will go back and let the old cook 
 cuff and scold as much as she pleases." 
 
 Dick did go back, and he was lucky enough to 
 get into the kitchen, and set about his work, before 
 the cook came down-stairs to get break-fast. 
 
 IV. THE CAT. 
 
 Mr. Fitzwarren's ship made a long voyage, and 
 at last reached a strange land on the other side of 
 the sea. The people had never seen any white men 
 
148 
 
 before, and they came in great crowds to buy the 
 fine things with which the ship was loaded. The 
 captain wanted very much to trade with the king 
 of the country ; and it was not long before the 
 king sent word for him to come to the •palace 
 and see him. 
 
 The captain did so. He was shown into a beauti- 
 ful room, and given a seat on a rich carpet all 
 flow-ered with silver and gold. The king and queen 
 were seated not far away; and soon a number of 
 dishes were brought in for dmner. 
 
 They had hardly begun to eat when an army of 
 rats and mice rushed in, and de-voured all the meat 
 before any one could hinder them. The captain 
 wondered at this, and asked if it was not very un- 
 pleas-ant to have so many rats and mice about. 
 
 "Oh, yes!" was the answer. "It is indeed un- 
 pleas-ant; and the king would give half his treas- 
 ure if he could get rid of them." 
 
 The captain jumped for joy. He remembered 
 the cat which little Whittington had sent out ; and 
 he told the king that he had a little creature on 
 board his ship which would make short work of the 
 pests. 
 
 Then it was the king's turn to jump for joy ; and 
 he jumped so high, that his yellow cap, or turban, 
 dropped off his head. 
 
149 
 
 "Bring th( tiire to me," he said. "If she 
 
 will do what you say, I will load your ship with 
 gold." 
 
 The captain made believe that he would be very 
 sorry to part with the cat ; but at last he went down 
 to the ship to get her, while the king and queen 
 made haste to have another dinner made ready. 
 
 The captain, with puss under his arm, reached 
 the palace just in time to see the table crowded 
 with rats. The cat leaped out upon them, and 
 oh ! what havoc she did make among the trou-ble- 
 some creatures ! Most of them were soon stretched 
 dead upon the floor, while the rest scam-pered away 
 to their holes, and did not dare to come out again. 
 
 The king had never been so glad in his life ; and 
 the queen asked that the creature which had done 
 such wonders should be brought to her. The cap- 
 tain called, " Pussy, pussy, pussy ! " and the cat came 
 up and rubbed against his legs. He picked her up, 
 and offered her to the queen; but at first the queen 
 was afraid to touch her. 
 
 However, the captain stroked the cat, and called, 
 " Pussy, pussy, pussy ! " and then the queen ventured 
 to touch her. She could only say, " Putty, putty, 
 putty!" for she had not learned to talk English. 
 The captain then put the cat down on the queen's lap, 
 where she purred and purred until she went to sleep. 
 
ISO 
 
 The king would not have missed getting the cat 
 now for the world. He at once made a bargain 
 with the captain for all the goods on board the 
 ship ; and then he gave him ten times as much for 
 the cat as all the rest came to. 
 
 The captain was very glad. He bade the king 
 and queen good-by, and the very next day set sail 
 for England. 
 
 V. THE FORTUNE. 
 
 One morning Mr. Fitzwarren was sitting at his 
 desk in his office. He heard some one tap softly at 
 his door, and he said, — 
 
 " Who's there ? " 
 
 "A friend," was the answer. "I have come to 
 bring you news of your ship ' U-ni-corn.' " 
 
 Mr. Fitzwarren jumped up quickly, and opened 
 the door. Whom should he see waiting there but 
 the captain, with a bill of lading in one hand and 
 a box of jewels in the other? He was so full of 
 joy that he lifted up his eyes, and thanked Heaven 
 for sending him such good fortune. 
 
 The captain soon told the story of the cat; and 
 then he showed the rich present which the king 
 and queen had sent to poor Dick in payment for 
 her. As soon as the good gentleman heard this, 
 he called out to his servants, — 
 
" Go send him in, and tell him of his fame ; 
 Pray call him Mr. Whittington by name." 
 
 Some of the men who stood by said that so great 
 a present ought not to be given to a mere boy ; but 
 Mr. Fitzwarren frowned upon them. 
 
 " It is his own," he said, " and I will not hold back 
 one penny from him." 
 
 Dick was scouring the pots when word was 
 brought to him that he should go to the office. 
 
 " Oh, I am so dirty! '' he said, " and my shoes are 
 full of hob-nails." But he was told to make haste. 
 
 Mr. Fitzwarren ordered a chair to be set for him, 
 and then the lad began to think that they were 
 making fun of him. 
 
 " I beg that you won't play tricks with a poor 
 boy like me," he said. '* Please let me go back to 
 my work." 
 
 " Mr. Whittington," said Mr. Fitzwarren, " this is 
 no joke at all. The captain has sold your cat, and 
 has brought you, in return for her, more riches 
 than I have in the whole world." 
 
 Then he opened the box of jewels, and showed 
 Dick his treasures. 
 
 The poor boy did not know what to do. He 
 begged his master to take a part of it; but Mr. Fitz- 
 warren said, " No, it is all your own ; and I feel sure 
 that you will make good use of it" 
 
152 
 
 Dick then offered some of his jewels to his mis- 
 tress and little Alice. They thanked him, and told 
 him that they felt great joy at his good luck, but 
 wished him to keep his riches for himself. 
 
 But he was too kind-heart-ed to keep everything 
 for himself. He gave nice presents to the cap- 
 tain and the sailors, and to the servants in Mr. Fitz- 
 warren's house. He even remembered the cross 
 old cook. 
 
153 
 
 After that, Whittington's face was washed, and 
 his hair curled, and he was dressed in a nice suit 
 of clothes; and then he was as handsome a young 
 man as ever walked the streets of London. 
 
 Some time after that, there was a fine wedding 
 at the finest church in London ; and Miss Alice 
 became the wife of Mr. Richard Whittington. And 
 the lord mayor was there, and the great judges, 
 and the sher-i£fs, and many rich mer-chants; and 
 everybody was very happy. 
 
 And Richard Whittington became a great mer- 
 chant, and was one of the foremost men in London. 
 He was sheriff of the city, and thrice lord mayor ; 
 and King Henry V. made him a knight. 
 
 He built the famous prison of New-gate in 
 London. On the arch-way in front of the prison 
 was a figure, cut in stone, of Sir Richard Whit- 
 tington and his cat; and for three hundred years 
 this figure was shown to all who visited London. 
 
 CASABIANCA, 
 
 There was a great battle at sea. One could 
 hear nothing but the roar of the big guns. The 
 air was filled with black smoke. The water was 
 strewn with broken masts and pieces of timber 
 
154 
 
 which the cannon balls had knocked from the 
 ships. Many men had been killed, and many 
 more had been wounded. 
 
 The flag-ship had taken fire. The flames were 
 breaking out from below. The deck was all ablaze. 
 The men who were left alive made haste to launch 
 a small boat. They leaped into it, and rowed swiftly 
 away. Any other place was safer now than on 
 board of that burning ship. There was powder 
 in the hold. 
 
 But the captain's son, young Ca-sa-bi-an'ca, still 
 stood upon the deck. The flames were almost all 
 around him now; but he would not stir from his 
 post. His father had bidden him stand there, and 
 he had been taught always to obey. He trusted in 
 his father's word, and be-lieved that when the right 
 time came he would tell him to go. 
 
 He saw the men leap into the boat. He heard 
 them call to him to come. He shook his head. 
 
 " When father bids me, I will go," he said. 
 
 And now the flames were leaping up the masts. 
 The sails were all ablaze. The fire blew hot upon 
 his cheek. It scorched his hair. It was before him, 
 behind him, all around him. 
 
 " O father!" he cried, "may I not go now.^^ The 
 men have all left the ship. Is it not time that we 
 too should leave it ?'' 
 
155 
 
 He did not know that his father was lying in the 
 burning cabin below, that a cannon ball had struck 
 him dead at the very be-gin-ning of the fight. He 
 listened to hear his answer. 
 
 " Speak louder, father ! " he cried. " I cannot 
 hear what you say." 
 
 Above the roaring of the flames, above the crash- 
 ing of the falling spars, above the booming of the 
 guns, he fancied that his father s voice came faintly 
 to him through the scorching air. 
 
 ''I am here, father! Speak once again!" he 
 gasped. 
 
 But what is that ? 
 
 A great flash of light fills the air; clouds of 
 smoke shoot quickly upward to the sky; and — 
 
 " Boom ! " 
 
 Oh, what a ter-rif-ic sound ! Louder than thun- 
 der, louder than the roar of all the guns ! The 
 air quivers ; the sea itself trembles ; the sky is 
 black. 
 
 The blazing ship is seen no more. 
 
 There was powder in the hold ! 
 
 A long time ago a lady, whose name was Mrs. 
 Hemans, wrote a poem about this brave boy Ca-sa-bi- 
 an-ca. It is not a very well written poem, and yet 
 everybody has read it, and thousands of people have 
 
156 
 
 learned it by heart. I doubt not but that some day 
 you too will read it. It begins in this way : — 
 
 "The boy stood on the burning deck 
 Whence all but him had fled ; 
 The flame that lit the battle's wreck 
 Shone round him o'er the dead. 
 
 " Yet beautiful and bright he stood, 
 As born to rule the storm — 
 A creature of heroic blood, 
 
 A proud though childHke form." 
 
 ANTONIO CANOVA. 
 
 A GOOD many years ago there lived in Italy a 
 little boy whose name was An-to'ni-o Ca-noVa. He 
 lived with his grand-fa-ther, for his own father was 
 dead. His grand-fa-ther was a stone-cut-ter, and he 
 was very poor. 
 
 An-to-ni-o was a puny lad, and not strong enough 
 to work. He did not care to play with the other 
 boys of the town. But he liked to go with his grand- 
 father to the stone-yard. While the old man was 
 busy, cutting and trimming the great blocks of stone, 
 the lad would play among the chips. Sometimes 
 he would make a little statue of soft clay; some- 
 times he would take hammer and chisel, and try to 
 
157 
 
 cut a statue from a piece of rock. He showed so 
 much skill that his grandfather was de-light-ed. 
 
 " The boy will be a sculp-tor some day," he said. 
 
 Then when they went home in tlie evening, the 
 grand-moth-er would say, " What have you been 
 doing to-day, my little sculp-tor ? " 
 
 And she would take him upon her lap and sing 
 to him, or tell him stories that filled his mind with 
 pictures of wonderful and beautiful things. And 
 the next day, when he went back to the stone-yard, 
 he would try to make some of those pictures in 
 stone or clay. 
 
 There lived in the same town a rich man who was 
 called the Count. Sometimes the Count would 
 have a grand dinner, and his rich friends from other 
 towns would come to visit him. Then Antonio's 
 grandfather would go up to the Count's house to 
 help with the work in the kitchen ; for he was a 
 fine cook as well as a good stone-cut-ter. 
 
 It happened one day that Antonio went with his 
 grandfather to the Count's great house. Some 
 people from the city were coming, and there was 
 to be a grand feast. The boy could not cook, 
 and he was not old enough to wait on the table ; 
 but he could wash the pans and kettles, and as he 
 was smart and quick, he could help in many other 
 ways 
 
158 
 
 All went well until it was time to spread the table 
 for dinner. Then there was a crash in the dining 
 room, and a.man rushed into the kitchen with some 
 pieces of marble in his hands. He was pale, and 
 trembling with fright. 
 
 '' What shall I do ? What shall I do ? " he cried. 
 " I have broken the statue that was to stand at the 
 center of the table. I cannot make the table look 
 pretty without the statue. What will the Count 
 say?" 
 
 And now all the other servants were in trouble. 
 Was the dinner to be a failure after all ? For every- 
 thing de-pend-ed on having the table nicely arranged. 
 The Count would be very angry. 
 
 " Ah, what shall we do ? " they all asked. 
 
 Then little Antonio Ca-no-va left his pans and 
 kettles, and went up to the man who had caused the 
 trouble. 
 
 " If you had another statue, could you arrange 
 the table ? " he asked. 
 
 " Cer-tain-ly," said the man ; " that is, if the 
 statue were of the right length and height." 
 
 '' Will you let me try to make one ? " asked Anto- 
 nio. " Perhaps I can make something that will do." 
 
 The man laughed. 
 
 " Non-sense ! " he cried. " Who are you, that you 
 talk of making statues on an hour's notice ? " 
 
159 
 
 '' I am Antonio Canova," said the lad. 
 
 " Let the boy try what he can do," said the serv- 
 ants, who knew him. 
 
 And so, since nothing else could be done, the 
 man allowed him to try. 
 
 On the kitchen table there was a large square 
 lump of yellow butter. Two hundred pounds the 
 lump weighed, and it had just come in, fresh and 
 clean, from the dairy on the mountain. With a 
 kitchen knife in his hand, Antonio began to cut 
 and carve this butter. In a few minutes he had 
 molded it into the shape of a crouching lion ; and 
 all the servants crowded around to see it. 
 
 " How beautiful ! " they cried. " It is a great 
 deal pret-ti-er than the statue that was broken." 
 
 When it was finished, the man carried it to its 
 place. 
 
 "The table will be hand-som-er by half than I 
 ever hoped to make it," he said. 
 
 When the Count and his friends came in to 
 dinner, the first thing they saw was the yellow 
 lion. 
 
 " What a beautiful work of art ! " they cried. 
 " None but a very great artist could ever carve 
 such a figure ; and how odd that he should choose 
 to make it of butter ! " And then they asked the 
 Count to tell them the name of the artist. 
 
The servants crowded around to see it.' 
 
i6i 
 
 " Truly, my friends," he said, " this is as much of 
 a surprise to me as to you." And then he called 
 to his head servant, and asked him. where he had 
 found so wonderful a statue. 
 
 " It was carved only an hour ago by a little boy 
 in the kitchen," said the servant. 
 
 This made the Count's friends wonder still more; 
 and the Count bade the servant call the boy into 
 the room. 
 
 "My lad," he said, "you have done a piece of 
 work of which the greatest artists would be proud. 
 What is your name, and who is your teacher ? " 
 
 " My name is Antonio Canova," said the boy, 
 " and I have had no teacher but my grandfather 
 the stonecutter." 
 
 By this time all the guests had crowded around 
 Antonio. There were famous artists among them, 
 and they knew that the lad was a genius. They 
 could not say enough in praise of his work ; and 
 when at last they sat down at the table, nothing 
 would please them but that Antonio should have a 
 seat with them ; and the dinner was made a feast 
 in his honor. 
 
 The very next day the Count sent for Antonio 
 to come and live with him. The best artists in. 
 the land were em-ployed to teach him the art in 
 which he had shown so much skill ; but now, instead 
 
 FIFTY FAM. STO. — 1 1 
 
1 62 
 
 of carving butter, he chis-eled marble. In a few 
 years, Antonio Canova became known as one of 
 the greatest sculptors in the world. 
 
 PICCIOLA. 
 
 Many years ago there was a poor gentleman shut 
 up in one of the great prisons of France. His 
 name was Char-ney, and he was very sad and un- 
 hap-py. He had been put into prison wrong-ful-ly, 
 and it seemed to him as though there was no one 
 in the world who cared for him. 
 
 He could not read, for there were no books in 
 the prison. He was not allowed to have pens or 
 paper, and so he could not write. The time 
 dragged slowly by. There was nothing that he 
 could do to make the days seem shorter. His only 
 pastime was walking back and forth in the paved 
 prison yard. There was no work to be done, no 
 one to talk with. 
 
 One fine morning in spring, Char-ney was tak- 
 ing his walk in the yard. He was counting the 
 paving stones, as he had done a thousand times 
 before. All at once he stopped. What had made 
 that little mound of earth between two of the 
 stones ? 
 
i63 
 
 He stooped down to see. A seed of some kind 
 had fallen between the stones. It had sprouted ; 
 and now a tiny green leaf was pushing its way up 
 out of the ground. Charney was about to crush 
 it with his foot, when he saw that there was a kind 
 of soft coating over the leaf. 
 
 ** Ah ! " said he. " This coating is to keep it 
 safe. I must not harm it." And he went on with 
 his walk. 
 
 The next day he almost stepped upon the plant 
 before he thought of it. He stooped to look at it. 
 There were two leaves now, and the plant was 
 much stronger and greener than it was the day 
 before. He staid by it a long time, looking at all 
 its parts. 
 
 Every morning after that, Charney went at once 
 to his little plant. He wanted to see if it had been 
 chilled by the cold, or scorched by the sun. He 
 wanted to see how much it had grown. 
 
 One day as he was looking from his window, he 
 saw the jailer go across the yard. The man brushed 
 so close to the little plant, that it seemed as though 
 he would crush it. Charney trembled from head to 
 foot. 
 
 " O my Pic-cio-la ! " he cried. 
 
 When the jailer came to bring his food, he 
 begged the grim fellow to spare his little plant. 
 
164 
 
 He expected that the man would laugh at him; 
 but al-though a jailer, he had a kind heart. 
 
 " Do you think that I would hurt your little 
 plant?" he said. "No, indeed! It would have 
 been dead long ago, if I had not seen that you 
 thought so much of it." 
 
 " That is very good of you, indeed," said Char- 
 ney. He felt half ashamed at having thought the 
 jailer unkind. 
 
 Every day he watched Pic-cio-la, as he had 
 named the plant. Every day it grew larger and 
 more beautiful. But once it was almost broken by 
 the huge feet of the jailer's dog. Charney's^ heart 
 sank within him. 
 
 " Picciola must have a house," he said. " I will 
 see if I can make one." 
 
 So, though the nights were chilly, he took, day 
 by day, some part of the firewood that was allowed 
 him, and with this he built a httle house around 
 the plant. 
 
 The plant had a thousand pretty ways which 
 he noticed. He saw how it always bent a little 
 toward the sun; he saw how the flowers folded 
 their petals before a storm. 
 
 He had never thought of such things before, and 
 yet he had often seen whole gardens of flowers in 
 bloom. 
 
i6s 
 
 One day, with soot and water he made some ink; 
 he spread out his hand-ker-chief for paper; he used 
 a sharp-ened stick for a pen — and all for what? 
 He felt that he must write down the doings of his 
 little pet. He spent all his time with the plant. 
 
 " See my lord and my lady ! '' the jailer would say 
 when he saw them. 
 
 As the summer passed by, Picciola grew more 
 lovely every day. There were no fewer than thirty 
 blossoms on its stem. 
 
 But one sad morning it began to droop. Char- 
 ney did not know what to do. He gave it water, 
 but still it drooped. The leaves were with-er-ing. 
 The stones of the prison yard would not let the 
 plant live. 
 
 Charney knew that there was but one way to 
 save his treasure. Alas ! how could he hope that 
 it might be done } The stones must be taken up 
 at once. 
 
 But this was a thing which the jailer dared not 
 do. The rules of the prison were strict, and no 
 stone must be moved. Only the highest officers in 
 the land could have such a thing done. 
 
 Poor Charney could not sleep. Picciola must die. 
 Already the flowers had with-ered ; the leaves would 
 soon fall from the stem. 
 
 Then a new thought came to Charney. He 
 
i66 
 
 would ask the great Napoleon, the em-per-or him- 
 self, to save his plant. 
 
 It was a hard thing for Charney to do, — to ask 
 a favor of the man whom he hated, the man who 
 had shut him up in this very prison. But for the 
 sake of Picciola he would do it. 
 
 He wrote his little story on his hand-ker-chief. 
 Then he gave it into the care of a young girl, who 
 promised to carry it to Napoleon. Ah^ if the poor 
 plant would only live a few days longer ! 
 
 What a long journey that was for the young girl! 
 What a long, dreary waiting it was for Charney and 
 Picciola ! 
 
 But at last news came to the prison. The stones 
 were to be taken up. Picciola was saved ! 
 
 The em-per-or's kind wife had heard the story 
 of Charney's care for the plant. She saw the 
 handkerchief on which he had written of its 
 pretty ways. 
 
 " Surely," she said, '' it can do us no good to keep 
 such a man in prison." 
 
 And so, at last, Charney was set free. Of course 
 he was no longer sad and un-lov-ing. He saw how 
 God had cared for him and the little plant, and how 
 kind and true are the hearts of even rough men. 
 And he cher-ished Picciola as a dear, loved friend 
 whom he could never forget. 
 
16/ 
 
 MIGNON. 
 
 Here is the story of Mignon as I remember hav- 
 ing read it in a famous old book. 
 
 A young man named Wil-helm was staying at an 
 inn in the city. One day as he was going up-stairs 
 he met a Httle girl coming down. He would have 
 taken her for a boy, if it had not been for the long 
 curls of black hair wound about her head. As she 
 ran by, he ^ught her in his arms and asked her to 
 whom she belonged. He felt sure that she must be 
 one of the rope-dan-cers who had just come to the 
 inn. She gave him a sharp, dark look, slipped out 
 of his arms, and ran away without speaking. ,,^ 
 
 The next time he saw her, Wil-helm spoke to her 
 again. 
 
 " Do not be afraid of me, little one," he said 
 kindly. " What is your name ? " 
 
 " They call me Mignon," said the child. 
 
 " How old are you ? " he asked. 
 
 " No one has counted," the child an-swered. 
 
 Wilhelm went on ; but he could not help wonder- 
 ing about the child, and thinking of her dark eyes 
 and strange ways. 
 
 One day not long after that, there was a great 
 outcry among the crowd that was watching the 
 rope-dan-cers. Wilhelm went down to find out 
 
i68 
 
 what was the matter. He saw that the master of 
 the dancers was beating Httle Mignon with a stick. 
 He ran and held the man by the collar. 
 
 " Let the child alone ! " he cried. " If you touch 
 her again, one of us shall never leave this spot." 
 
 The man tried to get loose; but Wilhelm held 
 him fast. The child crept away, and hid herself in 
 the crowd. 
 
 " Pay me what her clothes cost," cri^ the rope- 
 dancer at last, " and you may take Yi^xjM 
 
 As soon as all was quiet, Wilhelm went to look 
 for Mignon ; for she now belonged to him. But he 
 could not find her, and it was not until the rope- 
 dancers had left the town that she came to him. 
 
 " Where have you been } " asked Wilhelm in his 
 kindest tones ; but the child did not speak. 
 
 " You are to live with me now, and you must be 
 a good child," he said. 
 
 " I will try," said Mignon gently. 
 
 From that time she tried to do all that she could 
 for Wilhelm and his friends. She would let no one 
 wait on him but herself. She was often seen going 
 to a basin of water to wash from her face the paint 
 with which the ropedancers had red-dened her 
 cheeks: indeed, she nearly rubbed off the skin in 
 trying to wash away its fine brown tint, which she 
 thought was some deep dye* 
 
169 
 
 Mignon grew more lovely every day. She never 
 walked up and down the stairs, but jumped. She 
 would spring along by the railing, and before you 
 knew it, would be sitting quietly above on the 
 landing. 
 
 To each one she would speak in a different way. 
 To Wilhelm it was with her arms crossed upon her 
 breast. Often for a whole day she would not say 
 one word, and yet in waiting upon Wilhelm she 
 never tired. 
 
 One night he came home very weary and sad. 
 Mignon was waiting for him. She carried the light 
 before him up-stairs. She set the light down upon 
 the table, and in a little while she asked him if she 
 might dance. 
 
 " It might ease your heart a little," she said. 
 
 Wilhelm, to please her, told her that she might. 
 
 Then she brought a little carpet, and spread it 
 upon the floor. At each corner she placed a 
 candle, and on the carpet she put a number of eggs. 
 She arranged the eggs in the form of certain figures. 
 When this was done, she called to a man who was 
 waiting with a violin. She tied a band about her 
 eyes, and then the dancing began. 
 
 How lightly, quickly, nimbly, wonderfully, she 
 moved! She skipped so fast among the eggs, she 
 trod so closely beside them, that you would have 
 
**And then the dancing began.* 
 
171 
 
 thought she must crush them all. But not one of 
 tham did she touch. With all kinds of steps she 
 passed among them. Not one of them was moved 
 from its place. 
 
 Wilhelm forgot all his cares. He watched every 
 motion of the child. He almost forgot who and 
 where he was. 
 
 When the dance was ended, Mignon rolled the 
 eggs together with her foot into a little heap. Not 
 one was left behind, not one was harmed. Then 
 she took the band from her eyes, and made a little 
 bow. 
 
 Wilhelm thanked her for showing him a dance 
 that was so wonderful and pretty. He praised her, 
 petted her, and hoped that she had not tired her- 
 self too much. 
 
 When she had gone from the room, the man 
 with the violin told Wilhelm of the care she had 
 taken to teach him the music of the dance. He 
 told how she had sung it to him over and over 
 again. He told how she had even wished to pay 
 him with her own money for learning to play it 
 for her. 
 
 There was yet another way in which Mignon tried 
 to please Wilhelm, and make him forget his cares. 
 She sang to him. 
 
 The song which he liked best was one whose 
 
172 
 
 words he had never heard before. Its music, too, 
 was strange to him, and yet it pleased him very 
 much. He asked her to speak the words over and 
 over again. He wrote them down; but the sweet- 
 ness of the tune was more dehghtful than the 
 words. The song began in this way : — 
 
 " Do you know the land where citrons, lemons, grow, 
 And oranges under the green leaves glow?" 
 
 Once, when she had ended the song, she said 
 again, " Do you know the land ? " 
 
 " It must be Italy," said Wilhelm. " Have you 
 ever been there ? " 
 
 The child did not answer. 
 
 Typography by J. S, Cushing & Co., Norwood, Mass. 
 
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