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CALIFORNIA STATE SERIES 
 
 A 
 
 FIFTH READER 
 
 BY 
 
 ARNOLD AND GILBERT 
 
 REVISED BY 
 
 THE STATE TEXT-BOOK COMMITTEE 
 
 AND APPROVED BY 
 
 THE STATE BOARD OF EDUCATION 
 
 SACRAMENTO 
 W. W. Shannon, Superintendent State Printing 
 
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 ^ 
 
 COPYEIGIIT, 1910, BY 
 
 THE PEOPLE OF THE STATE OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 Copyright, 1897, by 
 SILVER, BURDETT AND COMPANY. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 EDUCATION^DEPT. 
 
 In the compilation of this book certain matter from "Step- 
 ping Stones to Literature," a Reader for Fifth Grades, by 
 Sarah Louise Arnold and Charles B. Gilbert, has been used. All 
 such matter is protected by the copyright entries noted above. 
 
 1e~50m — 10,' 10 
 
THIS series of books is designed to meet in particular two educa- 
 tional needs : first, reading books containing better literature 
 than the average Reader contains ; second, books adapted to the modern 
 graded school. The ordinary series of Readers consists of five or six 
 books, — the first three being composed of made matter, put together 
 upon the theory that children can read only selections containing 
 certain words. The remaining two or three books are composed 
 partly of original matter and partly of short, disconnected selections 
 from standard authors, — many of these selections not being suited to 
 children of any age, and none of them being graded with reference 
 to adaptation of language or thought. 
 
 In the present series, its authors have aimed to include nothing but 
 good literature, the greater part being selected from standard writers ; 
 and in so far as possible the selections are given entire as they came 
 from the writers' hands. In each book, beginning with the Fourth, 
 are to be found some selections of considerable length, both in prose 
 and poetry, complete as they were first published. 
 
 In those instances in which it has been found necessary to abbre- 
 viate articles, the authors have attempted to give complete chapters or 
 such other selections as constitute in themselves literary wholes, and 
 also to induce the pupils to read the emtire books from which the 
 selections are taken. This suggestion is deemed very important. The 
 tendency of the day is to scrappy reading. It is fostered by news- 
 papers, periodicals, and compendia of literature ; and it is hoped that 
 these Readers will help to combat this unfortunate tendency, and lead 
 to the reading of good books. 
 
 M187504 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The second special feature of Stepping Stones to Literature 
 is their perfect adaptation to graded schools. The usual division of 
 the higher Readers of a series into Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth, is founded 
 upon no principle thus far discovered. This series consists of eight 
 books, one for each grade of the ordinary graded school system. It is 
 believed that this feature will be of great value. It simplifies the work 
 of the teacher, and makes it possible to correlate the reading with the 
 other subjects in the school curriculum. 
 
 In the Fourth Book the child is given his first distinct introduction 
 to mythology. In the earlier books, fables and fairy stories have been 
 used, and there has been a little suggestion of mythology ; but in the 
 Fourth, myth and wonder — those subjects which appeal to the child's 
 imagination and carry him out of his limited environment into a larger 
 world — are emphasized. We believe that this is in accord with what- 
 ever truth exists in the culture epoch theory of education. 
 
 It also makes a suitable and natural introduction to the historical 
 matter, of which a greater proportion appears in the higher books. 
 The connection between this matter and that in the lower books is fui-- 
 nished by two fables, "The Fox and the Cat" and "The Fox and the 
 Horse," and by such humorous poems as " That Calf " and " The Cow 
 and the Ass." These lead, on the one side, to the Nature readings both 
 in verse and prose ; on the other side, they lead directly to the myth, 
 and the myth introduces the child easily and naturally to history, — 
 the Hiawatha myth, for example, making an excellent introduction to 
 American history, and the Greek myth, to ancient history. The selec- 
 tion from " Aladdin " belongs to that class of purely imaginative 
 literature which all children read and enjoy. 
 
 In the Fifth Book the use of the myth which is found in the P'ourth 
 is continued, but the myths here used are mainly historical, leading 
 directly to the study of history. Here is given an acquaintance with 
 the mythology of our Norse forefathers, and also with the semi-mytho- 
 logical literature of western Europe. This is followed by some selec- 
 tions of a more definitely historical character than any given in the 
 Fourth. The purely imaginative literature — as, for example, " The 
 King of the Golden River " — is of an order better adapted to the ad- 
 vancing age of the child, and has a more distinctly aesthetic and ethical 
 purpose. Nature readings are continued, and several selections of a 
 patriotic character are given as an introduction to the considerable 
 amount of reading of this class found in the Sixth and Seventh books. 
 
 In the Sixth Book the pure myth does not appear, but in its place 
 is much of history, especially of the legendary lore which appeals to 
 the developing imagination of the child, — such as the tales of ancient 
 Rome and Scott's poems. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 There is a large increase of matter which tends to stimulate patri- 
 otism, including particularly national songs. Here appear several 
 selections from that sort of literature which requires thought and 
 develops taste, such as " The Voyage to Lilliput." Here also are found 
 some appeals to the child's natural love of adventure and sports. The 
 ethical motive is plainly evident throughout this book. 
 
 The Seventh Book is made entirely of selections from American 
 authors. It is intended for the grade in which most stress is usually 
 laid upon the study of the history of the United States, and can very 
 appropriately be used in connection with this study. The literature 
 of a country cannot be separated from its history, and the natural 
 connection between these two should be emphasized in all study of 
 either. This book is especially rich in matter intimately connected 
 with history, and tending to stimulate patriotism. 
 
 Here, more than in some of the other books, selections have been 
 made from longer works, and it is hoped that the teachers will urge the 
 children- to read the works entire. 
 
 The Eighth Book is made wholly from the writings of English 
 authors. In many schools the study of English history is introduced 
 in this grade. In such schools the selections here given will be found 
 appropriate. Even in those schools in which the history of England is 
 not specifically studied, it is of necessity studied incidentally in connec- 
 tion with the history of our own country, and a familiarity with the 
 writings of the best English authors is essential to a comprehension 
 of the writings of our own. The selections here given, while especially 
 appropriate for use in connection with the study of history, are made 
 from standard authors, such as every intelligent boy and girl should 
 read for their own value. 
 
 The authors believe that if these Readers are used wisely, according 
 to the plan suggested, they will not only help to make better readers 
 of the children of the schools, but will also aid in a wise correlation of 
 studies, will cultivate taste, stimulate a love of good literature, and, 
 through literature, bring within reach of the children the choicest 
 treasures of the world. 
 
 The copyrighted material in this book is used by permission of and 
 by arrangement with Houghton, Mifflin & Co., Roberts Brothers, 
 D. Appleton & Co., Little, Brown & Co., Charles Scribner's Sons, and 
 The Macmillan Company, — to all of whom both the editor and the 
 publishers express their cordial thanks and appreciation. 
 
viii SUGGESTIONS TO TEACHERS. 
 
 SUGGESTIONS TO TEACHERS. 
 
 THE purpose of this series of books is indicated by its name, 
 Stepping Stones to Literature. Tlie aim of the authors 
 was to make the formalities of reading subordinate to its real end, 
 which is the acquisition of thought from the printed page. It is urged, 
 therefore, that you aim not first to teach children how to read, and then 
 incidentally to give them some acquaintance with good literature; but 
 that you seek primarily and chiefly to acquaint your pupils with litera- 
 ture as such, and secondarily to teach them the technique of reading. 
 You will find, if you follow this plan, that not only will the first object 
 be gained, but that the children will learn the art of reading much 
 better than when the chief emphasis is placed upon this art. 
 
 In a book composed of good literature, words should be studied 
 only as they occur in the text, and as their study is necessary to an 
 understanding of the text. Such study is doubtless important, but 
 great care should be taken to prevent its interference with the real 
 object of reading, which is acquaintance with literature. 
 
 The study of literature should not be confused with the study of 
 the biographies of authors. Acquaintance with the lives and personal 
 traits of authors is often interesting, and frequently thrown light upon 
 their writings, yet its value is but secondary at best; children, espe- 
 cially, should give their chief attention to the writings themselves. Let 
 them read freely and abundantly, until they become absorbed in their 
 reading. Do not interrupt them too frequently with criticisms. In 
 no case spoil a reading lesson by introducing the study of technique 
 for its own sake. Remember always that the ends to be secured are 
 a love for good literature and the storing of the mind with noble 
 ideals. 
 
 While the selections in this series of Readers are, in so far as possi- 
 ble, literary wholes, in many cases it has been necessary to abbreviate. 
 Sometimes chapters have been taken out of books, the chapters in 
 themselves constituting complete productions. In all cases of abbre- 
 viation, it is urged that the attention of the children be called to the 
 books from which the selections are made, and that they be advised to 
 read them entire. Lead the childi-eu to the use of the public library 
 through their reading lessous. 
 
SUGGESTIONS TO TEACHERS. 
 
 The ends above set forth, included in the terra "the mastery of 
 books," are of course the real objects of all reading. They are secured 
 by what is known as silent reading, whereas the school reading lesson 
 consists in reading aloud. The object of the latter is twofold : first, 
 the making plain to the teacher that children are capable of mastering 
 books ; second, instruction in the art of oral reading. While this art 
 is not, as it is often treated, of primary importance, but wholly sec- 
 ondary, it is yet important, and should receive careful attention. 
 
 Good oral reading includes both intellectual and physical elements. 
 The first implies clear and sympathetic comprehension of the subject 
 matter, so that the reader is able to impart it to others as if it were 
 original with himself. The second involves a mastery of the various 
 physical organs used in reading. The common advice, " Read as if you 
 were talking," is correct if the pupil talks correctly, — that is, it covers 
 the first point, "sympathetic knowledge of the subject matter;" but in 
 tins country, where the voices and modes of speech are proverbially bad, 
 it does not cover the second. 
 
 First, then, be sure that the children understand what they are read- 
 ing. Try to secure their interest in it, and then expect them to read it 
 to you as if they were imparting fresh and valuable information. This 
 requires a thorough knowledge of the text and context, and the free 
 use of the dictionary and other reference books. The children should 
 read their school reading lessons as they would read any book on any 
 occasion, because they are interested in what the book contains. 
 
 Second, see to it that the children become masters of those portions 
 of the body which are used in reading, so that when they comprehend 
 what they are reading, they can impart it to others in a natural, 
 pleasing, and lucid manner. Practically, the entire body is used in 
 good reading. Specifically, the points to be carefully observed are 
 carriage or position of the various parts of the body, proper breathing, 
 clear enunciation, correct pronunciation, and quality of voice, 
 
 1. Carriage. The body should be erect, so that a vertical line 
 passes through the ears, the shoulders, the hips, and the heels. This 
 position^ should not be stiff, but all the muscles should be free, so that 
 the various members can move gracefully and readily as may be 
 required. To secure this freedom, calisthenic exercises are useful. 
 
 2. Breathing. The breathing should be deep rather than super- 
 ficial. It is often well, before a reading lesson, to have the class stand 
 in correct position and draw in through their nostrils — not through 
 their mouths — as deep and as full breaths as they are capable of taking. 
 This exercise repeated several times will tend to produce good breath- 
 ing during the reading lesson. Children should be taught to breathe 
 through the nostrils, and to use the diaphragm and the muscles of the 
 
SUGGESTIONS TO TEACHERS. 
 
 abdomen in breathing even more than those of the chest. They should 
 be taught to take in new breaths before the supply of air is exhausted 
 to such a degree as to affect the voice. 
 
 3. Enunciation. Few children enunciate all sounds distinctly. 
 If you watch children carefully, you will find that some have dilhculty 
 with vowels, others with consonants. Special drill exercises should be 
 given to classes to cover general deficiencies, and to individuals to meet 
 particular needs. 
 
 4. Correct Pronunciation. This is determined by the usage of 
 good authors. To avoid errors it is necessary to consult frequently 
 some standard dictionary, with which every class room should be 
 supplied. 
 
 5. The Quality of the Voice. Another consideration to which it 
 is necessary to give careful attention is the quality of the voice. It 
 is said that very few Americans have agreeable voices. This is a 
 serious national defect. No one who has felt the charm of a rich, 
 full, gentle voice needs to be told the importance of training the voices 
 of children. 
 
 Special attention should be given to timbre, pitch, and inflection. 
 Strive to cultivate in your children full, rich voices. In reading, give 
 careful heed to appropriateness of vocalization, — that is, see that the 
 children use the proper quality of tone and the right inflections to 
 express the feeling of what they are reading. Good reading is a beau- 
 tiful art, and cannot be secured by obedience to technical laws merely. 
 It can only be secured by constant watchfulness and care on the part 
 of both pupil and teacher. 
 
 Enaamed with the study of learning and the admira- 
 tion of virtue; stirred up with high hopes of living to 
 be brave men and worthy patriots, dear to God, and 
 
 famous to all ages. 
 
 —Milton. 
 
THE BEADING LESSON AND ITS USES. xi 
 
 THE READING LESSON AND ITS USES. 
 
 READING is the key of a school curriculum. It opens to the pupil 
 not only the treasures of literature, but also all that portion of 
 his education which he obtains through the use of books. Hence, the 
 importance of teaching it well, and from the right point of view, which 
 is that of its content. 
 
 Reading as an art gets its value not from itself, but from the use to 
 which it is put. 
 
 Through the reading lesson, the teacher has a wider opportunity for 
 influencing the child's life than through any other study. 
 
 First. She can make it a means for the better comprehension of the 
 other subjects of his curriculum. This is a simple, but practical and 
 important, use. 
 
 Many a failure in geography, history, and arithmetic is due to the 
 inability of the children to read understandingly the text-books upon 
 those subjects. 
 
 The teaching of reading should by no means be confined to the use 
 of School Readers. Every lesson employing a book should be a reading 
 lesson. The teacher should see to it that the pupils are able to read 
 the books they are required to use. They should often be asked to read 
 aloud in class from various text-books. 
 
 Not only so, but they should be led to trace out and see the relations 
 of the subject in hand to the other subjects of their school course, to 
 literature, and to life. Excursions should be made continually into 
 related fields of fact and idea, to be found in the Readers and in other 
 available literature. 
 
 It is not the purpose of the authors that one of these higher Readers 
 be read through consecutively. The selection to be read on any par- 
 ticular day should be chosen to meet some immediate need of the pupils, 
 as determined by the geography, history, language, or nature lesson, or 
 by its appropriateness to the mental or moral condition of the children. 
 
 The reading lesson should often constitute a part of the lesson upon 
 some other subject. While the pupils are interested in some subject 
 belonging to a particular branch of study, at once, as a part of the 
 exercise in that study, the class should read appropriate selections 
 from Stepping Stones to Literature or from other books bearing 
 directly upon the subject. 
 
xii THE READING LESSON AND ITS USES. 
 
 It is important that children acquire early the habit of looking upon 
 reading and all other arts as means to ends, and not as ends. 
 
 Second. The reading lesson enables the teacher to introduce the 
 child to the true study of literature. All literature, whether found in 
 these Readers or elsewhere, should be treated with the respect worthy 
 of its dignity, and not as mere material for a reading exercise. 
 
 Every literary production used for a reading lesson should be ap- 
 proached by the teacher and the class as a treasure-house of fact, idea, 
 or beauty. Its excellencies, whether of matter or style, should be made 
 apparent by discovery on the part of the children, if possible. 
 
 The reading lesson should be primarily a literature lesson. The 
 children should regard it as a search after hidden treasures, and through 
 it they should learn how to approach books, and what to look for in 
 reading. They should be taught to distinguish superiority of style, to 
 see the beauty and aptness of figures of speech, to discover the fine shades 
 of thought and feeling which the author has brought out by his choice 
 of words. They should be led to consider literature not only intrin- 
 sically, but extrinsically as well. They should find out the relations of 
 the literary production to the author's own life, to contemporaneous 
 events, to history, to other facts and ideas within the child's range 
 of vision, to other literature, and to life. Especially should they be 
 directed to other reading similar in style, thought, or subject. 
 
 Third. Through the reading lesson the teacher can to a large degree 
 direct the general reading of her class, not only in school but at home. 
 This is one of its most valuable functions. Children read poor or 
 vicious books because they do not know others, or do not know how 
 much more interesting the better books are. 
 
 The reading lesson should lead to literary voyages of discovery to the 
 public library and other sources of supply. Through it, children should 
 become accustomed to the use of books, and be led to love them. 
 
 Care should be taken that the books suggested be within the range 
 of the children's comprehension and interest. It is well for the teacher 
 occasionally to take the class to the library and show them how to find 
 what they need, and then to send them often for books for their indi- 
 vidual use and that of the class. 
 
 By these and other means, the reading lesson may be used to clarify 
 and amplify the treatment of all the subjects of the curriculum, to teach 
 the child discrimination in regard to literature, to cultivate his taste 
 for the truly excellent, and to introduce him wisely, pleasantly, and 
 permanently to the world of books, and through books to a richer life. 
 
0NTENT5 
 
 Preliminary Matter. 
 
 Page. 
 
 Preface 5 
 
 Suggestions to Teachers 8 
 
 The Reading Lesson and its Uses II 
 
 Selections in Prose and Poetry. 
 
 Lesson. Subject. Author. 
 
 I. Nathauiel Hawthorne 3 
 
 II. The Pygmies Nathaniel Hawthorne . 5 
 
 III. The Owl Critic . James T. Fields . . 29 
 
 IV. John Maynard John B. Gough ... 32 
 
 V. The First Snowfall James Russell Lmaell . 34 
 
 VI. Writing 36 
 
 VII. Reading 37 
 
 VIII. A Legend of Bregenz Adelaide Anne Procter 39 
 
 IX. The Knights of Old 45 
 
 X. The Adventures of Bradamante . . . Ludovico Ariosto . . 46 
 
 XL The Nose and the Eyes William Cowper . . 67 
 
 XII. The King of the Golden River . . . John Ruskin .... 68 
 
 XIII. The Old Oaken Bucket Samuel Woodworlh . 101 
 
 XIV. Silkworms /ohn Henry Gray . . 103 
 
 XV. The Glove and the Lions Leigh Hunt .... 108 
 
 XVL Terrific Scene at the Natural Bridge . Elihu Burritt ... 109 
 
 XVII. An Incident of the Crimean War 115 
 
 XVIII. Charge of the Light Brigade .... Alfred Tennyson . . 116 
 
 XIX. America Samuel Francis Smith 118 
 
 XX. General Joseph Warren's Address . . John Pierpont . . . 120 
 
 XXI. Love of Country Sir Walter Scott . . 121 
 
 XXIL Our Body Helen Hunt Jackson . 121 
 
 (xiii) 
 
XIV 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Lessom. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 XXV, 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 XXVII, 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 XXXVIl. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 XL. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 L. 
 
 LI. 
 
 LII. 
 
 Subject. 
 The Song of Steam .... 
 The Discontented Pendnlum 
 First Ship of Peter the Great 
 The Death of the Flowers 
 
 Going A-Maying 
 
 An Order for a Picture . . 
 Our Northern Forefathers 
 The Beginning of Worlds 
 
 The Gods 
 
 Odin 
 
 Author. 
 George Washington Cutter 
 
 Jane Tai/lor 
 
 Eugene Schuyler .... 
 William Cullen Bri/ant . 
 Robert Herrick .... 
 Alice Carji 
 
 aiior ........ 
 
 Loki and His Children . . 
 Idun's Apples ..... 
 
 Baldur 
 
 Death of Baldur .... 
 The Skeleton in Armor 
 The White Czar . . ... 
 The Old Clock on the Stairs 
 
 Matthew Arnold 
 
 Henry Wadsicorih Longfellow 
 Henry Wadsicorth Longfelloiv 
 Henry Wad swart h Longfellow 
 
 The Norsemen John GreenleaJ' Whittier 
 
 Charles Kingsley 
 
 The Coral Reef Charles Kingsley . . 
 
 The Pied Pi])er of Hamelin . Robert Browning . . 
 
 Daniel Defoe and His Books 
 
 Verses by Alexander Selkirk William Coivper . . . 
 
 Bobinson Crusoe Daniel Defoe .... 
 
 Harold's Song . . . ^ . . 
 Making Maple Sugar . . . 
 Escape from a Panther . . 
 Romance of the Swan's Nest 
 The Story of Joseph . . . 
 
 Sir Walter Scott . . . 
 Charles Dudley Warner . 
 James Fen i more Cooper . 
 Elizabeth Barrett Browning 
 The Bible 
 
 Page. 
 123 
 128 
 131 
 137 
 139 
 140 
 144 
 146 
 149 
 149 
 153 
 159 
 1G3 
 165 
 170 
 176 
 183 
 185 
 189 
 195 
 196 
 219 
 230 
 231 
 233 
 266 
 268 
 273 
 279 
 283 
 
 Lexicon 301 
 
LIST OF AUTHORS. 
 
 Name. Selection. Pagk 
 
 Ariosto, Ludovico The Adventures of Bratlamante . 46 
 
 Arnold, Matthi:w Death of Baldur 170 
 
 Bible, The The Story of Joseph 283 
 
 Browning, Elizabeth Barrett . The Romance of the Swan's Nest . 279 
 
 Browning, Robert ...... The Pied Piper of Hamelin . . . 219 
 
 4?ryant, William Cullen . . . The Death of the Flowers . . . 137 
 
 BcRRiTT, Elihu Terrific Scene at the Natural 
 
 Bridge 109 
 
 nCary, Alice An Order for a Picture .... 140 
 
 Cooper, James Fenimore . . . Escape from a Panther ... . 273 
 
 CowPER, William The Nose and the Eyes .... 67 
 
 " " . . \ . . . Verses by Alexander Selkirk . . 231 
 
 Cutter, George Washington . . The Song of Steam 12.5 
 
 Defoe, Daniel Robinson Crusoe ...... 233 
 
 Fields, James Thomas .... The Owl Critic 29 
 
 GouGH, John Bartholomew . . John Maynard 32 
 
 Gray, John Henry Silkworms 103 
 
 Hawthorne, Nathaniel .... The Pygmies 5 
 
 Herrick, Robert - Going A-Maying 139 
 
 Hunt, Jajies Henry Leigh . . . The Glove and the Lions . . . 108 
 
 Jackson, Helen Hunt Our Body 121 
 
 .KiNGSLEY, Charles The Coral Reef !96 
 
 (Longfellow, Henry Wadswor^h The Skeleton in Armor ... . 176 
 
 The White Czar 183 
 
 The. Old Clock on the Stairs . . 185 
 
 Lowell, James Russell .... The First Snowfall 34 
 
 PiERPONT, John General Joseph Warren'« Address 120 
 
 Procter, Adelaide Anne ... A Legend of Bregenz .... 39 
 
 RusKiN, John The King of the Golden River . 68 
 
 Schuyler, Eugene ...... The First Ship of Peter the Great 131 
 
 y Scott, Sir Walter Love of Country 121 
 
 " " " Harold's Song 266 
 
 Smith, Samuel Francis .... America 118 
 
 Taylor, Jane The Discontented Pendulum . . 128 
 
 V Tennyson, Lord Alfred . . . . Charge of the Light Brigade . . 116 
 
 Warner, Charles Dudley . . . Making Maple Sugar ..... 268 
 
 iAVhittier, John Greenleaf . . The Norsemen 189 
 
 WooDwoRTH, Samuel The Old Oaken Bucket .... 101 
 
 (2V) 
 
 / 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Subject. Source. Page 
 
 The Shipwreck From Pointing hij J. M. W. Turner Fbonttspiece 
 
 Watt Discovering the Power of Steam . From Painting bi/ David Need 
 
 Nathaniel Hawthorne Photograph 
 
 Birthplace of Nathaniel Hawthorne .... Original . 
 
 Hercules and the Pvgmy " 
 
 The White Owl 
 
 Lake Constance Photograph 
 
 The Sepulcher of Merlin Original . 
 
 Bradamante and Brunello " 
 
 The Mysterious Drinking Mug " 
 
 The King of the Golden River " 
 
 The Orchard ; The Old Oaken Bucket ... " 
 
 The Deep-tangled Wildwood ; The Meadow . " 
 
 Cocoon, Moth, and Silkworm " 
 
 Natural Bridge, Virginia " 
 
 Samuel Francis Smith Photograph 
 
 An Ocean Steamer " 
 
 Peter the Great Painting 
 
 A Sextant Original . 
 
 Odin From a German Painting 
 
 Frigga " " ** 
 
 Thor 
 
 Baldur 
 
 The Corsairs Original . 
 
 Old Stone Tower, Tjlewport " 
 
 The Old Clock on the Stairs Photograph 
 
 Norse Vessels Original . 
 
 Ruins of Old Cathedral, lona Photograph 
 
 Charles Kingsley " 
 
 Brain Coral Original 
 
 Coral Stalk and Branches " 
 
 Fan Coral " 
 
 An Atoll 
 
 Great Barrier Coral ]?eef, Australia .... " 
 
 Coral Formations " 
 
 Ammonites " 
 
 'J'he Pied Piper of Hamelin Fi-om Painting by H. Kaulbach 
 
 Crusoe's Raft Original 
 
 Friday Swearing Allegiance to Robinson Crusoe " 
 
 Rescue of Robinson Crusoe " 
 
 James Fenimore Cooper Photograph 
 
 Attacked by a Panther Original 
 
 Little Ellie — Initial Letter 
 
 Joseph's Dreams From Painting by Raphael 
 
 Joseph Interpreting Pharaoh's Dream " " " 
 
 (xvi) 
 
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 SHORELINE — LAKE TAHOE. 
 
 Here the heart 
 May give a useful lesson to the bead. 
 And I^earning wiser grown without his books. 
 
 — Cowper. 
 
DAVli) iNKAIi. 
 
 WATT DISCOVERING THE POWER OF STEAM. 
 
 ** IJoiv I laughed as I la>/ concealed from sight 
 For many a countless hour, 
 At the childish boast of human viight, 
 And the pride of human poicer ! " 
 
 (Thk Soxo of Steam, p. 125. 
 
f lii 
 
 Jicthpla.ce of 
 THANIEL HAWTHORNE, 
 SALEM, MASS. 
 
 AFirTHRfADfR 
 
 I. NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 
 
 NATHANIEL 
 HAWTHORNE 
 
 knew how to write 
 stones, and he wrote 
 a great many of them, 
 both for children and 
 for grown people. 
 While he was tall, 
 broad, and strong, he 
 was at the same time 
 very gentle and mod- 
 est in demeanor; and 
 he was a man of rare 
 learning. 
 
 When Nathaniel 
 
 was a mere lad his 
 
 father died, and his 
 
 mother moved with 
 
 her little family to a farm in the midst of the woods of 
 
 Maine. There, for sometime, they lived almost alone. As a 
 
 boy, Nathaniel had few companions ; so he made friends of 
 
 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 
 
A FIFTH READER. 
 
 books, of animals, of the trees, and of the brooks. He would 
 go out alone in the woods in the daytime, fishing and shoot- 
 ing, and at night, in the winter, he would go skating all alone 
 upon the quiet ponds, sometimes staying until past midnight, 
 and then would go into a log hut, kindle a great fire in the 
 wide chimney, and spend the night alone. 
 
 Even here he began to write tales, and showed some of 
 that wonderful skill which made. him one of the greatest of 
 American writers. After a few years he went to college, 
 and, although from this time he lived among others, he 
 never lost his shyness or his love for books. He always 
 loved the woods and the brooks and little children. In 
 college he had for friends men who, like himself, were 
 destined to be great. One was Longfellow, the poet, 
 who even then had begun to write verses. Another was 
 Franklin Pierce, who was afterwards President of the 
 United States. 
 
 Before leaving college, Mr. Hawthorne decided to be 
 a writer. In one of his letters he said, " I do n't want to be 
 a doctor to live by men's diseases, nor a minister to live by 
 their sins, nor a lawyer to live by their quarrels ; so I do n't 
 think there is anything left for me but to be an author." 
 
 It was a long time before people realized the beauty of 
 Hawthorne's writings, but at last they did, and before he 
 died he became very famous. He continued to take his 
 longest walks at night, when he could be alone. If there 
 was a fire at night, he would go to it, because then he could 
 see the crowds without himself being noticed. 
 
 Mr. Hawthorne wrote tales on many subjects : he wrote 
 about the Puritans, those brave, strong people who came to 
 New England that they might worship God as tliey chose ; 
 he rewrote many of the tales which ancient poets of nriM-ee 
 
THE PYGMIES. 
 
 and Rome had written in their own languages about gods 
 and giants and heroes, and the wonderful things w hich were 
 done by them. The tale which follows is among these. 
 
 A 
 
 II. THE PYGMIES. 
 
 By Nathaniel Hawthorne. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 GREAT while ago, when the world was full of won- 
 ders, there lived an earth-born Giant named Antaeus, 
 and a million or more of curious little earth-born people, who 
 were called Pygmies. This Giant and these Pygmies being 
 children of the same mother (that is to say, our good old 
 Grandmother Earth), were all brethren and dwelt together 
 in a very friendly and affectionate manner, far, far off in 
 the middle of hot Africa. The Pygmies were so small, and 
 there were so many sandy deserts and such high mountains 
 between them and the rest of mankind, that nobody could 
 get a peep at them oftener than once in a hundred years. 
 As for the Giant, being of a very lofty stature, it was easy 
 enough to see him, but safest to keep out of his sight. 
 
 Among the Pygmies, I suppose if one of them grew to 
 the height of six or eight inches, he was rgckoiiad a prodi- 
 giously tall man. It must have been very pretty to behold 
 their little cities, with streets two or three feet wide, paved 
 with the smallest pebbles, and bordered by habitations about 
 as big as a squirrel's cage. The king's palace attained to 
 the stupendous ^ magnitude^ of Periwinkle's baby-house, and 
 stood in the center of a spacious square, which could hardly 
 have been covered by our hearth-rug. Their principal 
 1 stU'peu'dous, very great. ^ mag'ni-tude, size. 
 
A FIFTH READER. 
 
 temple, or cathedral, was as lofty as yonder bureau, and 
 was looked upon as a wonderfully sublime and magnificent 
 edifice. All these structures were built neither of stone nor 
 wood. They were neatly plastered together by the Pygmy 
 workmen, pretty much like birds' nests, out of straw, feath- 
 ers, eggshells, and other small bits of stuff, with stiff clay in- 
 stead of mortar ; and when the hot sun had dried them, they 
 were just as snug and comfortable as a Pygmy could desire. 
 
 The country round about was conveniently laid out in 
 fields, the largest of which was nearly of the same extent as 
 one of Sweet Fern's flower beds. Here the Pygmies used 
 to plant wheat and other kinds of grain, which, when it 
 grew up and ripened, overshadowed these tiny people as 
 the pines, and the oaks, and the walnut and chestnut trees 
 overshadow you and me when we walk in our own tracts 
 of woodland. At harvest time, they were forced to go with 
 their little axes and cut down the grain, exactly as a wood- 
 cutter makes a clearing in the forest; and when a stalk of 
 wheat, with its overburdened top, chanced to come crashing 
 down upon an unfortunate Pygmy, it was very apt to be a 
 very sad affair. If it did not smash him all to pieces, at 
 least, I am sure it must have made the poor little fellow's 
 head ache. And, oh, my stars ! if the fathers and mothers 
 were so small, what must the children and babies have been ? 
 A whole family of them might have been put to bed in a 
 shoe, or have crept into an old glove and played at hide- 
 and-seek in its thumb and fingers. You might have hidden 
 a year-old baby under a thimble. 
 
 Now these funny Pygmies, as I told you before, had a 
 Giant for their neighbor and brother, who was bigger, if 
 possible, than they were little. He was so very tall that he 
 carried a pine tree, which was eight feet through the butt, 
 
THE PYGMIES. 
 
 for a walking stick. It took a far-sighted Pygmy, I can 
 assure you, to discern his summit without the help of a 
 telescope ; and sometimes, in misty weather, they could not 
 see his upper half, but only liis legs, which seemed to be 
 striding about by themselves. But at noonday, in a clear 
 atmosphere, when the sun shone brightly over him, the 
 Giant Antseus presented a very grand spectacle. There he 
 used to stand, a perfect mountain of a man, with his great 
 countenance smiling down upon his little brothers, and his 
 one vast eye (which was as big as a cart wheel, and placed 
 right in the center of his forehead) giving a friendly wdnk 
 to the whole nation at once. 
 
 The Pygmies loved to talk with Antseus ; and fifty times 
 a day one or another of them would turn up his head, and 
 shout through the hollow of his fists, " Halloo, brother 
 Antseus ! How are you, my good fellow ? " And when the 
 small, distant squeak of their voices reached his ear, the 
 Giant wOuld make answer, " Pretty well, Brother Pygmy, I 
 thank you," in a thunderous roar that would have shaken 
 down the walls of their strongest temple, only that it came 
 from so far aloft. 
 
 It was a happy circumstance that Antseus was the Pygmy 
 people's friend, for there was more strength in his little fin- 
 ger than in ten million of such bodies as theirs. If he had 
 been as ill-natured to them as he was to everybody else, he 
 might have beaten down their biggest city at one kick, and 
 hardly have known that he did it. With the tornado of his 
 breath, he could have stripped the roofs from a hundred 
 dwellings, and sent thousands of the inhabitants whirling 
 through the air. He might have set his immense foot upon 
 a multitude, and when he took it up again there would have 
 been a pitiful sight, to be sure. But, being the son of 
 
A FIFTH READER. 
 
 i» 
 
 Mother Earth, as they likewise were, the Giant gave them 
 his brotherly kindness, and. loved them with as big a love as 
 it was possible to feel for creatures so very small. 
 
 And, on their part, the Pygmies loved Antaeus with as 
 much affection as their tiny hearts could hold. He was 
 always ready to do them any good offices that lay in his 
 power; as, for example, when they wanted a breeze to turn 
 their windmills, the Giant would set all the sails a-going 
 with the mere natural respiration ^ of his lungs. When the 
 sun was too hot, he often sat himscdf dow^n and let his 
 shadow fall over the kingdom from one frontier ^ to the 
 other ; and as for matters in general, he was wise enough to 
 let them alone, and leave the Pygmies to manage their own 
 affairs, — which, after all, is about the best thing that great 
 people can do for little ones. 
 
 In short, as I said l»efore, Antaeus loved the Pygmies 
 and the Pygmies loved Antaeus. The Giant's life being as 
 long as his body was large, while the lifetime of a Pygmy 
 w^as but a span, this friendly intercourse had been going on 
 for innumerable generations and ages. It was written about 
 in the Pygmy histories, and talked about in their ancient 
 traditions. The most venerable and white-bearded Pj^gmy 
 had never heard of a time, even in his greatest of grand- 
 father's days, when the Giant was not their enormous friend. 
 Once, to be sure (as was recorded on an obelisk ,3 three feet 
 high, erected on the place of the catastrophe*), Antaius sat 
 down upon about five thousand Pygmies who were assem- 
 bled at a military review. But this was one of those un- 
 lucky accidents for which nobody is to blame ; so that the 
 small folks never took it to heart, and only requested the 
 
 1 res-pi-ra'tion, breathing. ^ ob'e-lisk, a tapering nionuinent. 
 
 2 fron'tier, border. * ca-tas'tro-phe, disaster. 
 
THE PYGMIES. 
 
 Giant to be careful forever afterwards to examine the acre 
 of ground where he intended to squat himself. 
 
 It is a very pleasant picture to imagine Antaeus standing 
 among the Pygmies, like the spire of the tallest cathedral 
 that ever was built, while they ran about like ants at his feet ; 
 and to think that, in spite of their difference in size, there 
 were affection and sympathy between them and him. Indeed, 
 it has always seemed to me that the Giant needed the little 
 people more than the Pygmies needed the Giant. For, 
 unless they had been his neighbors and well-wishers, and, as 
 we may say, his playfellows, Antaeus would not have had a 
 single friend in the world. 
 
 No other being like himself had ever been created. No 
 creature of his own size had ever talked with him, in 
 thunder-like accents, face to face. When he stood with 
 his head among the clouds, he was quite alone, and had 
 been so for hundreds of years, and would be so forever. 
 Even if he had met another giant, Antseus would have 
 fancied the world not big enough for two such vast per- 
 sonages, and, instead of being friends with him, would have 
 fought him till one of the two was killed. But with the 
 Pygmies he was the most sportive, and humorous, and 
 merry-hearted, and sweet-tempered old Giant that ever 
 washed his face in a wet cloud. 
 
 His little friends, like all bther small people, had a great 
 opinion of their own importance, and used to assume quite 
 a patronizing ^ air towards the Giant. 
 
 " Poor creature ! " they said to one another. " He has a 
 very dull time of it, all by himself, and we ought not to 
 grudge wasting a little of our precious time to amuse him. 
 He is not half so bright as we are, to be sure ; and, for that 
 
 ^ pat'ron-i-zing, like a superior. 
 
10 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 reason, he needs us to look after his comfort and happiness. 
 Let us be kind to the old fellow. Why, if Mother Earth 
 had not been very kind to ourselves, we might have been 
 Giants, too ! " 
 
 On all their holidays, the Pygmies had excellent sport with 
 Antaeus. He often stretched himself out at full length on 
 the ground, where he looked like the long ridge of a hill ; 
 and it was a good hour's walk, no doubt, for a short-legged 
 Pygmy to journey from head to foot of the Giant. He would 
 lay down his great hand flat on the grass, and challenge the 
 tallest of them to clamber upon it, and straddle from finger 
 to finger. So fearless were they that they made nothing of 
 creeping in among the folds of his garments. When his 
 head lay sidewise on the earth, they would march boldly up 
 and peep into the great cavern of his mouth, and take it all 
 as a joke (as, indeed, it was meant) when Anta?us gave a 
 sudden snap with his jaws, as if he were going to swallow 
 fifty of them at once. 
 
 You would have laughed to see the children dodging in 
 and out among his hair, or swinging from his beard. It is 
 impossible to tell half of the funny tricks that they played 
 with their huge comrade ; but I do not know that anything 
 was more curious than when a party of boys were seen 
 running races on his forehead, to try which of them could 
 get first round the circle of his one great eye. It was 
 another favorite feat with them to march along the bridge 
 of his nose and jump down upon his upper lip. 
 
 If the truth must be told, they were sometimes as trouble- 
 some to the Giant as a swarm of ants or mosquitoes, especially 
 as they had a fondness for mischief, and liked to prick his 
 skin with their little swords and lances, to see how thick 
 and tough it was. But Antieus took it all kindly enough; 
 
THE PYGMIES. 11 
 
 although, once in a while, when he happened to be sleepy, 
 he would grumble out a peevish word or two, like the mut- 
 tering of a tempest, and ask them to have done with their 
 nonsense. A great deal oftener, however, he watched their 
 merriment and gambols until his huge, heavy, clumsy wits 
 were completely stirred up by them ; and then would he roar 
 out such a tremendous volume of immeasurable laughter 
 that the whole nation of Pygmies had to put their hands, to 
 their ears, else it would certainly have deafened them. 
 
 " Ho ! ho ! ho ! " quoth the Giant, shaking his mountain- 
 ous sides. " What a funny thing it is to be little ! If I 
 were not Antseus, I should like to be a Pygmy, just for the 
 joke's sake." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE Pygmies had but one thing to trouble them in the 
 world. They were constantly at war with the cranes, 
 and had always been so ever since the long-lived Giant 
 could remember. From time to time very terrible battles 
 had been fought, in which sometimes the little men won the 
 victory, and sometimes the cranes. According to some his- 
 torians, the Pygmies used to go to the battle mounted on the 
 backs of goats and rams ; but such animals as these must 
 have been far too big for Pygmies to ride upon, so that I 
 rather suppose they rode on squirrel-back, or rabbit-back, or 
 rat-back, or perhaps got upon hedgehogs, whose prickly 
 quills would be very terrible to the enemy. However this 
 might be, and whatever creatures the Pygmies rode upon, I 
 do not doubt that they made a formidable appearance, armed 
 with sword and spear, and bow and arrow, blowing tlieir tiny 
 trumpets, and shouting their little war cry. They never 
 failed to exhort one another to fight bravely, and recollect 
 
13 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 that the world had its eyes upon them ; although, in simple 
 truth, the only spectator was the Giant Antaeus, with his one 
 great stupid eye in the middle of his forehead. 
 
 When the two armies joined battle, the cranes would rush 
 forward, flapping their wings and stretching out their necks, 
 and would perhaps snatch up some of the Pygmies cross- 
 wise in their beaks. Whenever this happened, it was truly 
 an awful spectacle to see those little men of might kicking 
 and sprawling in the air, and at last disappearing down the 
 crane's long, crooked throat, swallowed up alive. A hero, 
 you know, must hold himself in readiness for any kind of 
 fate, and doubtless the glory of the thing was a consolation 
 to him, even in the crane's gizzard. 
 
 If Antaeus observed that the battle was going hard 
 against his little allies, he generally stopped laughing, and 
 ran with mile-long strides to their assistance, flourishing 
 his club aloft and shouting at the cranes, who quacked, and 
 croaked, and^ retreated as fast as they could. Then the 
 Pygmy army would march homeward in triumph, attrib- 
 uting the victory entirely to their own valor and to the 
 warlike skill and strategy of whomsoever happened to be 
 captain general ; and for a tedious while afterwards notliing 
 would be heard of but grand processions, and public ban- 
 quets, and brilliant illuminations, and shows of waxwork, 
 with likenesses of the distinguished officers as small as life. 
 
 In the above-described warfare, if a Pygmy chanced to 
 pluck out a crane's tail-feather, it proved a very great feather 
 in his cap. Once or twice, if you will believe me, a little 
 man was made chief ruler of the nation for no other merit 
 in the world than bringing home such a feather. 
 
 But I have now said enough to let you see what a gallant 
 little people those were, and how happily they and tlieir 
 
THE PYGMIES. 13 
 
 forefatbei-s, for nobody knows how many generations,^ had 
 lived with the immeasurable ^ Giant Antceus. In the remain- 
 ing part of the story I shall tell you of a far more astonish- 
 ing battle than any that was fought between the Pygmies 
 and the cranes. 
 
 One day the mighty Antaeus was lolling at full length 
 among his little friends. His pine-tree walking-stick lay on 
 the ground close by his side. His head was in one part of 
 the kingdom, and his feet extended across the boundaries of 
 another part ; and he was taking whatever comfort he could 
 get, while the Pygmies scrambled over him, and peeped into 
 his cavernous mouth, and played among his hair. 
 
 Sometimes, for a minute or two, the Giant dropped asleep, 
 and snored like the rush of a wljirlwind. During one of 
 these little bits of slumber, a Pygmy chanced to climb upon 
 his shoulder and took a view around the horizon as from 
 the summit of a hill ; and he beheld something a long way 
 off which made him rub tlie bright specks of his eyes and 
 look sharper than before. At first he mistook it for a 
 mountain, and wondered how it had grown up^o suddenly 
 out of the earth. But soan he saw the mountain move. 
 As it came nearer and nearer, what should it turn out to 
 be but a human shape, not so big as Antaeus, it is true, 
 although a very enormous figure in comparison with Pyg- 
 mies, and a vast deal bigger than the men whom we- see 
 nowadays. 
 
 When' the Pygmy was quite satisfied that his eyes had not 
 deceived him, he scampered as fast as his legs would carry 
 him to tli^ Giant's ear, and stooping over its cavity, shouted 
 lustily into it, — *■' Halloo, Brother Antaeus ! Get up this 
 
 ^ gen-er-a'-tion, the average lifetime of man. 
 2 im-meas'-ur-a-ble, too large to be measm-ed. 
 
14 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 minute, and take your pine-tree walking-stick in your liand ! 
 Here comes another Giant to have a tussle with you ! '* 
 
 " Poh, poh ! " grumbled Antseus, only half awake. " None 
 of your nonsense, my little fellow ! Do n't you see I 'm 
 sleepy ? There is not a Giant on earth for whom I would 
 take the trouble to get up." 
 
 But the Pygmy looked again, and now perceived that the 
 stranger was coming directly towards the prostrate form of 
 Antaeus. With every step he looked less like a blue moun- 
 tain, and more like an immensely large man. He was soon 
 so nigh that there could be no possible mistake about the 
 matter. There he was, with the sun flaming on his golden 
 helmet and flashing from his polished breastplate; he had 
 a sword by his side, and a lion's skin over his back, and on 
 his right shoulder he carried a club which looked bulkier 
 and heavier than the pine-tree walking-stick of Antaeus. 
 
 By this time the whole nation of Pygmies had seen the 
 new wonder, and a million of them set up a shout, all 
 together, so that it really made quite an audible squeak. 
 
 " Get up, Antaeus I Bestir yourself, you lazy old Giant I 
 Here comes another tremendous Giant to fight with you ! '' 
 
 " Nonsense, nonsense ! " gro\^^the sleepy Giant. " I '11 
 have my nap out, come who may.'^||. 
 
 Still the stranger drew nearer^dl^ now the Pygmies 
 could plainly discern that, if his stati^^^re less lofty than 
 the Giant's, yet his shoulders were even^oader. And, in 
 truth, what a pair of shoulders they must h^:^ been I As I 
 told you a long while ago, they once upheld tlie sky. The 
 Pygmies, being ten times as vivacious ^ as their great num- 
 skull of a brother, could not abide the Giant's slow move- 
 ments, and were determined to have him on his feet. So 
 1 vi-va'cioua, lively. 
 
THE PYGMIES. 15 
 
 they kept shouting to him, and even went so far as to prick 
 him with their swords. 
 
 " Get up, get up, get up ! " they cried. " Up with you, 
 lazy bones ! The strange Giant's club is bigger than your 
 own, his shoulders are the broadest, and we think him the 
 stronger of the two." 
 
 Antaeus could not endure to have it said that any mortal 
 w^as half so mighty as himself. This latter remark of the 
 Pygmies pricked him deeper than their swords ; and, sitting 
 up in mther a sulky humor, he gave a gape of several 
 yards wide, rubbed his eye, and finally turned his stupid 
 head in the direction whither his little friends were eagerly 
 pointing. 
 
 No sooner did he set eye on the stranger than, leaping 
 on his feet and seizing his walking-stick, he strode a mile 
 or two to meet him, all the while brandishing the sturdy 
 pifte tree so that it whistled through the air. 
 
 " Who are you ? " thundered the Giant. " And what do 
 you want in my dominions ? " 
 
 There was one strange thing about Antaeus of which I 
 have not yet told you, lest, hearing of so many wonders all 
 in a lump, you might not believe much more than half of 
 them. You are to know, then, that whenever this redoubt- 
 able^ Giant touched the ground, either with his hand, his 
 foot, or any other part of his body, he grew stronger than 
 ever he had been before. 
 
 The Earth, you remember, was his mother, and was 
 very fond of him, as being almost the biggest of her 
 children ; and so she took this method of keeping him always 
 in full vigor. Some persons affirm that he grew ten times 
 stronger at every touch ; others say that it was only twice 
 1 re-doubt'a-ble, valiant; tenible. 
 
16 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 as strong. But only think of it ! Whenever Antaeus took a 
 walk, supposing it were but ten miles, and that he stepped a 
 hundred yards at a stride, you may try to cipher out how 
 much mightier he was, on sitting down again, than when he 
 first started. And whenever he flung himself on the earth 
 to take a little repose, even if he got up the very next 
 instant, he would be as strong as exactly ten just such 
 Giants as his former self. 
 
 It was well for the world that Antseus happened to be 
 of a sluggish disposition, and liked ease better than exer- 
 cise ; for if he had frisked about like the Pygmies, and 
 ''toiiched the earth as often as they did, he would long ago 
 have been strong enough to pull down the sky about 
 people's ears. But these great lubberl}; fellows resemble 
 mountains not only in Bulk, but in their disinclination 
 to m(^ve. 
 
 Any other mortal man, except the very one whom AntsDus 
 had now encountered, would have been half frightened to 
 death by the Giant's ferocious aspect and terrible voice. 
 But the stranger did not seem at all disturbed. He care- 
 lessly lifted his club and balanced it in his hand, measuring 
 Antaeus with his eye from head to foot, not as if wonder- 
 smitten at his stature, but as if he had seen a great many 
 Giants before, and this was by no means the biggest of them. 
 In fact, if the Giant had been no bigger than the Pygmies 
 (who stood pricking up their ears and looking and listening 
 to what was going forward), the stranger could not have 
 been less afraid of him. 
 
 " Who are you, I say ? " roared Antaeus again. " What 's 
 your name? Why do you come hither? Speak, you vaga- 
 bond, or I '11 try the thickness of your skull with my 
 walking-stick ! " 
 
THE PYGMIES. 17 
 
 " You are a very discourteous Giant," answered the 
 stranger, quietly, '' and I shall probably have to teach you 
 a little civility before we part. As for my name, it is 
 Hercules. 1 have come hither because this is my most 
 convenient road to the Garden of the Hesperides, whither 
 I am going to get three of the golden apples for King 
 Eurystheus." 
 
 " Caitiff I ^ you shall go no farther I " bellowed Antaeus, 
 putting on a grimmer look than before ; for he had heard of 
 the mighty Hercules, and hated him because he was said to 
 be so strong. " Neither shall you go back whence you came." 
 
 " How will you prevent me," asked Hercules, " from 
 going whither I please ? " 
 
 " By hitting you a rap with this pine tree here," shouted 
 Antseus, scowling so that he made himself the ugliest 
 monster in Africa. " I am fifty times stronger than you ; 
 and, now that I stamp my foot upon the ground, I am five 
 hundred times stronger. I am ashamed to kill such a puny 
 little dwarf as you seem to be. I will make a slave of you, 
 and you shall likewise be the slave of my brethren here, 
 the Pygmies. So throw down your club and your other 
 weapons ; and as for that lion's skin, I intend to have a 
 pair of gloves made of it." 
 
 '' Come and take it off my shoulders, then," answered 
 Hercules, lifting his club. 
 
 Then the Giant, grinning with rage, strode tower-like to- 
 wards the stranger (ten times strengthened at every step), and 
 fetched a monstrous blow at him with his pine tree, which 
 Hercules caught upon his club; and being more skillful 
 than Antaeus, he paid him back such a rap upon the sconce ^ 
 that down tumbled the great lumbering man-mountain flat 
 
 ^ cai'tiff, a mean, wicked person. 2 sconce, the head. 
 
 3 — 5r 
 
18 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 upon tlie ground. The poor little Pygmies (who really 
 never dreamed that anybody in the world was half so strong 
 as their brother Antseus) were a good deal dismayed at this. 
 But no sooner was the Giant down than up he bounced 
 again, with tenfold might, and such a furious visage ^ as was 
 horrible to behold. He aimed another blow at Hercules, 
 but struck awry, being blinded with wrath, and only hit his 
 poor innocent Mother Earth, who groaned and trembled at 
 the stroke. His pine tree went so deep into the ground, and 
 stuck there so fast, that, before Antaeus could get it out, 
 Hercules brought down his club across his shoulders with a 
 mighty thwack, which made the Giant roar as if all sorts of 
 intolerable ^ noises had come screeching and rumbling out 
 of his immeasurable lungs in that one cry. Away it went, 
 over mountains and valleys, and, for aught I know, was 
 heard on the other side of the African desertsi. 
 
 As for the Pygmies, their capital city was laid in ruins 
 by the concussion ^ and vibration ^ of the air ; and though 
 there was uproar enough without their help, they all set up 
 a shriek out of three millions of little throats, fancying, no 
 doubt, that they swelled the Giant's bellow by at least ten 
 times as much. Meanwhile, Antaeus had scrambled upon his ~ 
 feet again, and pulled his pine tree out of the earth ; and, 
 all aflame with fury, and more outrageously strong than 
 ever, he ran at Hercules and brought down another blow. 
 "This time, rascal," shouted he, "you shall not escape me ! " 
 But once more Hercules warded off the stroke with his 
 club, and the Giant's pine tree was shattered into a thou- 
 sand splinters, most of which flew among the Pygmies and 
 
 ^ vis'age, looks. 
 
 2 in-torer-a-ble, more than can be borne. 
 
 8 con-cus'sion, blow. 
 
 * vi-bra'tion, shaking; disturbance. 
 
THE PYGMIES. 19 
 
 did them more mischief than I like to think about. Before 
 Antseus could get out of the way, Hercules let drive again, 
 and gave him another knock-down blow, which sent him 
 heels over head, but served only to increase his already 
 enormous and insufferable strength. As for his rage, there 
 is no telling what a fiery furnace it had now got to be. His 
 one eye was nothing but a circle of red flame. Having now 
 no weapons but his fists, he doubled them up (each bigger 
 than a hogshead), smote one against the other, and danced 
 up and down with absolute frenzy,^ flourishing his immense 
 arms about as if he meant not merely to kill Hercules, but 
 to smash the whole world to pieces. 
 
 " Come on ! '* roared this thundering Giant. " Let me hit 
 you but one box on the ear, and you '11 never have the 
 headache again." 
 
 Now Hercules (though strong enough, as you already know, 
 to hold the sky up) began to be sensible that he should never 
 win the victory if he kept on knocking Antaeus down ; for 
 by and by, if he hit him such hard blows, the Giant would 
 inevitably,^ by the help of his Mother Earth, become stronger 
 than the mighty Hercules himself. So, throwing down his 
 club, with which he had fought so many dreadful battles, 
 the hero stood ready to receive his antagonist with naked 
 arms. 
 
 " Step forward ! " cried he. " Since I Ve broken your 
 pine tree, we '11 try which is the better man at a wrestling- 
 match." 
 
 " Aha ! then I '11 soon satisfy you," shouted the Giant ; 
 for if there was one thing on which he prided himself more 
 than another it was his skill in wrestling. " Villain, I '11 
 fling you where you can never pick yourself up again ! " 
 1 fren'zy, madness. 2 in-ev'i-ta bly, surely. 
 
20 A FIFTH READEP. 
 
 On came Antaeus, hopping and capering with the scorching 
 heat of his rage, and getting new vigor wherewith to wreak 
 his passion every time he hopped. But Hercules, you must 
 understand, was wiser than this numskull of a Giant, and 
 had thought of a way to fight him, — huge earth-born 
 monster that he was, — and to conquer him too, in spite of 
 all that his Mother Earth could do for him. Watching his 
 opportunity as the mad Giant made a rush at him, Hercules 
 caught him round the middle with both hands, lifted him 
 high into the air, and held him aloft overhead. 
 
 Just imagine it, my dear little friends ! What a spectacle 
 it must have been to see this monstrous fellow sprawling in 
 the air, face downward, kicking out his long legs and wrig- 
 ling his whole vast body, like a baby when its father holds 
 it at arm's length towards the ceiling ! 
 
 But the most wonderful thing was, that, as soon as 
 Antaeus was fairly off the earth, he began to lose the vigor 
 which he had gained by touching it. Hercules very soon 
 perceived that his troublesome enemy was growing weaker, 
 both because he struggled and kicked with less violence, 
 and because the thunder of his big voice subsided^ into a 
 grumble. The truth was, that, unless the Giant touched 
 Mother Earth as often as once in five minutes, not only his 
 overgrown strength but the very breath of his life would 
 depart from him. Hercules had guessed this secret ; and it 
 may be well for us all to remember it, in case we should 
 ever have to fight a battle with a fellow like Antaeus. For 
 these earth-born creatures are only difficult to conquer on 
 their own ground, but may easily be managed if we can 
 contrive to lift them into a loftier and purer region. So it 
 proved with the poor Giant, whom I am really a little sorry 
 1 sub si'ded, grew quiet. 
 
THE PYGMIES. SI 
 
 for, notwithstanding his uncivil way of treating strangers 
 who came to visit him. 
 
 When liis strength and breath were quite gone, Hercules 
 gave his huge body a toss, and flung it about a mile off, 
 where it fell heavily and lay with no more motion than a 
 sandhill. It was too late for the Giant's Mother Earth to 
 help him now ; and I should not wonder if his ponderous 
 bones were lying on the same spot to this very day, and were 
 mistaken for those of an uncommonly large elephant. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 BUT, alas me ! what a wailing did the poor little Pygmies 
 set up when they saw their enormous brother treated 
 in this terrible manner ! If Hercules heard their shrieks, 
 however, he took no notice, and perhaps fancied them only 
 the shrill, plaintive twittering of small birds that had been 
 frightened from their nests by the uproar of the battle 
 between himself and Antaeus. Indeed, his thoughts had 
 been so much taken up with the Giant that he had never 
 once looked at the Pygmies, nor even knew that there was 
 such a funny little nation in the world. And now, as he 
 had traveled a good way, and was also rather weary with 
 his exertions in the fight, he spread out his lion's skin on 
 the ground, and reclining himself upon it, fell fast asleep. 
 
 As soon as the Pygmies saw Hercules preparing for a nap, 
 they nodded their little heads at one another, and winked 
 with their little eyes. And when his deep, regular breath- 
 ing gave them notice that he was asleep, they assembled 
 together in an immense crowd, spreading over a space of 
 about twenty-seven feet square. One of their most eloquent 
 orators (and a valiant warrior enough besides, though hardly 
 
22 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 SO good at any other weapon as he was with his tongue) 
 climbed upon a toadstool, and from that elevated position 
 addressed the multitude. His sentiments were pretty much 
 as follows ; or, at all events, something like this was proba- 
 bly the upshot of his speech : — 
 
 " Tall Pygmies, and mighty little men : You and all of 
 us have seen what a public calamity has been brought to 
 pass, and what an insult has here been offered to the majesty 
 of our nation. Yonder lies Antaeus, our great friend and 
 brother, slain within our territory by a miscreant^ who 
 took him at a disadvantage, and fought him (if fighting it 
 can be called) in a way that neither man nor Giant nor 
 Pygmy ever dreamed of fighting until this hour. And, add- 
 ing a grievous contumely ^ to the wrong already done us, 
 the miscreant has now fallen asleep as quietly as if nothing 
 were to be dreaded from our wrath ! It behooves you, 
 fellow countrymen, to consider in what aspect we shall 
 stand before the world, and what will be the verdict^ of 
 impartial history, should we suffer these accumulated * out- 
 rages to go unavenged. 
 
 " Antaeus was our brother, born of that same beloved 
 parent to whom we owe the thews and sinews, as well as 
 |h.e courageous hearts, which made him proud of our relation- 
 Mp. ' He was our faithful ally, and fell fighting as much 
 for our national rights and immunities as for his own per- 
 sonal ones. We and our forefathers have dwelt in friend- 
 ship with him, and held affectionate intercourse, aS man to 
 man, through immemorial generations. You remember how 
 often our entire people have reposed in his great shadow, 
 and how our little ones have played at hide-and-seek in the 
 
 ^ mis'creant, wrong doer. ^ ver'dict, decision. 
 
 2 con'tu-me-ly, insult. "* accu'mu-la-ted, \)\U'd up. 
 
THE PYGMIES. 23 
 
 tangles of his hair, and how his mighty footsteps have 
 familiarly gone to and fro among us and never trodden 
 upon any of our toes. And there lies this dear brother, 
 this sweet and amiable friend, this brave and faithful ally, 
 this virtuous Giant, this blameless and excellent Antaeus, — 
 dead ! Dead ! Silent ! Powerless ! A mere mountain of 
 clay ! Forgive my tears I Nay, I behold your own ! 
 Were we to drown the world with them, could the world 
 blame us ? 
 
 " But to resume : Shall we, my countrymen, suffer this 
 wicked stranger to depart unharmed, and triumph in his 
 treacherous victory among distant communities of the 
 earth ? Shall we not rather compel him to leave his bones 
 here on our soil, by the side of our slain brother's bones, so 
 that, while one skeleton shall remain as the everlasting 
 monument of our sorrow, the other shall endure as long, 
 exhibiting to the whole human race a terrible example of 
 Pygmy vengeance ? Such is the question. I put it to you 
 in full confidence of a response that shall be Avorthy of our 
 national character and calculated to increase, rather than 
 diminish, the glory which our ancestors have transmitted jto 
 us, and which we ourselves have proudly vindicated in our 
 warfare with the cranes." 
 
 The orator was here interrupted by a burst of irrepressi- 
 ble 1 enthusiasm, — every individual Pygmy crying out that 
 the national honor must be preserved at all hazards. He 
 bowed, and making a gesture for silence, wound up his 
 harangue ^ in the following admirable manner : — 
 
 " It only remains for us, then, to decide whether we shall 
 carry on the war in our national capacity, — one united 
 people against a common enemy, — or Avhether some 
 
 ^ ir-re-pressl-ble, that cannot be controlled. - ha-rangue', speech. 
 
24 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 champion famous in former fights shall be selected to 
 defy the slayer of our brother Antseus to single combat. 
 In the latter case, though not unconscious that there may be 
 taller men among you, I hereby offer myself for that envi- 
 able duty. And believe me, dear countrymen, whether I 
 live or die, thie honor of this great country and the fame 
 bequeathed ^ us by our heroic progenitors ^ shall suffer no 
 diminution * in my hands, — never, while I can wield this 
 sword, of which I now fling away the scabbard; never, 
 never, never, — even if the crimson hand that slew the great 
 Antaeus shall lay me prostrate, like him, on the soil which 
 I give my life to defend I " 
 
 So saying, this valiant Pygmy drew out his weapon 
 (which was terrible to behold, being as long as the blade of 
 a penknife), and sent the scabbard whirling over the heads 
 of the multitude. His speech was followed by an uproar of 
 applause, as its patriotism and self-devotion unquestionably 
 deserved ; and the shouts and clapping of hands would have 
 been greatly prolonged had they not been rendered quite 
 inaudible* by a deep respiration, vulgarly called a snore, 
 from the sleeping Hercules. 
 
 It was finally decided IKat the whole nation of Pygmies 
 should set to work to destroy Hercules ; not, be it under- 
 stood, from any doubt that a single champion would be 
 capable of putting him to the sword, but because he was a 
 public enemy, and all were desirous of sharing in the glory 
 of his defeat. There was a debate whether the national 
 honor did not demand that a herald should be sent with a 
 
 ' bequeathed', left by will. 
 
 2 pro-gen'i-tora, forefathers ; that is, grandfathers, great-graiul- 
 fathers, etc. 
 
 ^ dim-i-nu'tion, falling off. "* in-au'di-ble, that cannot be heard. 
 
THE PYGMIES. 25 
 
 trumpet, to stand over the ear of Hercules, and, after blowing 
 a blast right into it, to defy him to the combat by formal 
 proclamation. But two or three venerable^ and sagacious ^ 
 Pygmies, well versed in state affairs, gave it as their opinion 
 that war already existed, and that it was their rightful 
 privilege to take the enemy by surprise. Moreover, if 
 awakened, and allowed to get upon his feet, Hercules might 
 happen to do them a mischief before he could be beaten down 
 again. For, as these sage counselors remarked, the stranger's 
 club was really very big, and had rattled like a thunderbolt 
 against the skull of Antaeus. So the Pygmies resolved to 
 set aside all foolish punctilios,^ and assail their antagonist 
 at once. 
 
 Accordingly, all the fighting men of the nation took their 
 weapons and went boldly up to Hercules, who still lay fast 
 asleep, little dreaming of the harm which the Pygmies meant 
 to do him. A body of twenty thousand archers marched in 
 front, with their little bows all ready, and the arrows on the 
 string. The same number were ordered to clamber upon 
 Hercules, — some with spades to dig his eyes out, and others 
 with bundles of hay and all manner of rubbish with which 
 they intended to plug up his mouth and nostrils so that he 
 might perish for lack of breath. These last, however, could 
 by no means perform their appointed duty, inasmuch as the 
 enemy's breath rushed out of his nose in an obstreperous ^ 
 hurricane and whirlwind, which blew the Pygmies away as 
 fast as they came nigh. It was found necessary, therefore, 
 to hit upon some other method of carrying on the war. 
 
 ^ ven'er-a-ble, worthy of respect because of age. 
 ^ sa-ga'cious, wise; shrewd. 
 3 punc-tLl'ios, fine points about rules of conduct. 
 ^ ob-strep'er-ous, troublesome. 
 
26 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 After holding a council the captains ordered their troops 
 to collect sticks, straws, dry weeds, and whatever combusti- 
 ble stuff they could find, and make a pile of it, heaping it 
 high around the head of Hercules. As a great many thou- 
 sand Pygmies were employed in this task, they soon brought 
 together several bushels of inflammatory matter, and raised 
 so tall a heap that, mounting on its summit, they were quite 
 upon a level with the sleeper's face. The archers, mean- 
 while, were stationed within bowshot, with orders to let fly 
 at Hercules the instant that he stirred. Everything being 
 in readiness, a torch was applied to the pile, which imme- 
 diately bui-st into flames, and soon waxed hot enough to 
 roast the enemy, had he but chosen to lie still. A Pygmy, 
 you know, though so very small, might set the world on fire 
 just as easily as a Giant could, so that this was certainly the 
 very best way of dealing with their foe, provided they could 
 have kept him quiet while the conflagration was going 
 forward. 
 
 But no sooner did Hercules begin to be scorched than up 
 he started, with his hair in a red blaze. 
 
 "What's all this?" he cried, bewildered with sleep, and 
 staring about him as if he expected to see another Giant. 
 
 At that moment the twenty thousand archers twanged 
 their bowstrings, and the arrows came whizzing like so many 
 winged mosquitoes right into thelface of Hercules. But I 
 doubt whether more than half a dozen of them pufictured the 
 skin, which was remarkably tough, as you know the skin of 
 a hero has good need to be. 
 
 " Villain ! " shouted all the Pygmies at once, " you have 
 killed the Giant Antaeus, our great !)rother, and the ally 
 of our nation. We declare bloody war against you and 
 will slay you on the spot." 
 
THE PYGMIES. 
 
 27 
 
 Surprised at the shrill piping of so many little voices, 
 Hercules, after putting out the conflagration ^ of his hair, 
 gazed all round about, but could see nothing. At last, how- 
 ever, looking narrowly on the ground, he espied the innu- 
 merable assemblage of Pygmies at his feet. He stooped 
 down, and taking up 
 the nearest one be- 
 tween his thumb and 
 finger, set him on 
 the palm of his left 
 hand and held him 
 at a proper distance 
 for examination. It 
 chanced to be the 
 very identical Pyg- 
 my who had spoken 
 from the top of the 
 toadstool and had 
 offered himself as a 
 champion to meet 
 Hercules in single 
 combat. 
 
 "What in the 
 world, my little fellow," ejaculated ^ Hercules, "may you 
 be?" 
 
 " I am your enemy," answered the valiant Pygmy, in his 
 mightiest squeak. " You have slain the enormous Antaeus, 
 our brother by the mother's side, and for ages the faithful 
 ally of our illustrious nation. We are determined to put 
 you to death, and for my own part I challenge you to instant 
 battle, on equal ground." 
 
 1 con-fla-gra'tion, fire. 2 e-jac'u-la-ted, cried out. 
 
 ^^)/A'iM] 
 
28 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Hercules was so tickled with the Pygmy's big words and 
 warlike gestures that he burst into a great explosion of 
 laughter, and almost dropped the poor little mite of a crea- 
 ture off the palm of his hand through the ecstasy ^ and con- 
 vulsion 2 of his merriment. 
 
 " Upon my word," cried he, '' I thought I had seen wonders 
 before to-day, — hydras with nine heads, stags with golden 
 horns, six-legged men, three-headed dogs, giants with fur- 
 naces in their stomachs,^ — and nobody knows what besides. 
 But here, on the palm of my hand, stands a wonder that 
 outdoes them all. Your body, my little friend, is about 
 the size of an ordinary man's finger. Pray, how big may 
 your soul be ? " 
 
 " As big as your own," said the Pygmy. 
 
 Hercules was touched with the little man's dauntless cour- 
 age, and could not help acknowledging such a brotherhood 
 with him as one hero feels for another. 
 
 " My good little people," said he, making a low obeisance * 
 to the grand nation, " not for all the world would I do an inten- 
 tional injury to such brave fellows as you. Your hearts seem 
 to me so exceedingly great that, upon my honor, I marvel 
 how your small bodies can contain them. I sue for peace, 
 and, as a condition of it, will take five strides and be out of 
 your kingdom at the sixth. Good-by. I. shall pick my 
 steps carefully, for fear of treading upon some fifty of you 
 without knowing it. Ha! ha! ha! Ho! ho! ho! For 
 once Hercules acknowledges himself vanquished ! " 
 
 Some writers say that Hercules gathered up the whole 
 race of Pygmies in his lion's skin and carried them home to 
 
 ^ ec'sta-sy, ^reat joy. ^ con-vul'sion, spasm. 
 
 8 Hercules, according to tlie ancient stories, overcame many mon- 
 sters such as those mentioned here, * o-bei'sance, low bow. 
 
THE OWL CRITIC. 
 
 29 
 
 Greece for the children of King Eurystheus to play with. 
 But this is a mistake. He left them, one and all, within 
 their own territory; where, for aught I can tell, their de- 
 scendants are alive to the present day, building their little 
 houses, cultivating their little fields, spanking their little 
 children, waging their little warfare with the cranes, doing 
 their little business, whatever it may be, and reading their 
 little histories of -ancient times. In those histories, perhaps, 
 it stands recorded that a great many centuries ago the val- 
 iant Pygmies avenged the death of the Giant Antseus by 
 scaring away the mighty Hercules. 
 
 From " The Wonder Book." 
 
 III. THE OWL CRITIC. 
 
 By James T. Fields. 
 
 "\T7H0 stuffed that white owl?" 
 
 » ^ No one spoke in the shop ; 
 The barber was busy, and he couldn't 
 
 stop ; 
 The customers, waiting their turns, 
 
 were all reading, 
 The "Daily," the "Herald," the "Post," 
 ^ little heeding 
 
 The young man who blurted out such 
 
 a blunt question; 
 Not one raised a head, or even made 
 a suggestion; 
 And the barber kept on shaving. 
 
30 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 " Do n't you see, Mister Brown,"' 
 
 Cried the youth with a frown, 
 
 "How wrong the whole thing is, 
 
 How preposterous ^ each wing is. 
 
 How flattened the head is, how jammed down the neck is, — 
 
 In short, the whole owl, what an ignorant wreck 'tis? 
 
 I make no apology, 
 
 I 've learned owl-eology, 
 
 I 've passed days and nights in a hundred collections, 
 
 And cannot be blinded to any deflections ^ 
 
 Arising from unskillful fingers that fail 
 
 To stuff a bird right, from his beak to his tail. 
 
 Mister Brown ! Mister Brown ! 
 
 Do take that bird down. 
 
 Or you '11 be the laughing-stock all over town ! " 
 
 And the barber kept on shaving. 
 
 " I 've studied owls, 
 
 And other night fowls, 
 
 And I tell you 
 
 What I know to be true : 
 
 An owl cannot roost 
 
 With his limbs so unloosed ; 
 
 No owl in the world 
 
 Ever had his claws curled, 
 
 Ever had his legs slanted. 
 
 Ever had his bill canted, 
 
 Ever had his neck screwed 
 
 Into that attitude. 
 
 He can't do it, because 
 
 'Tis against all bird laws. 
 
 1 pre-pos'ter-ouB, absurd. ^ de flec'tiona, changes; turnings. 
 
THE OWL CRITIC. 81 
 
 Anatomy^ teaches, 
 Ornithology ^ preaches, 
 An owl has a toe 
 That can't turn out so ! 
 
 I Ve made the white owl my study for years. 
 And to see such a job almost moves me to tears ! 
 Mister Brown, I 'm amazed 
 You should be so gone crazed 
 As to put up a bird 
 In that posture ^ absurd ! 
 
 To look at that owl really brings on a dizziness ; 
 The man who stuffed him do n't half know his business." 
 
 And the barber kept on shaving. 
 
 '' Examine those eyes ! 
 
 I 'm filled with surprise 
 
 Taxidermists* shoul4 pass 
 
 Off on you such poor glass ; 
 
 So unnatural they seem 
 
 They 'd make Audubon scream. 
 
 And John Burroughs^ laugh 
 
 To encounter such chaff. 
 
 Do take that bird down I 
 
 Have him stuffed again, Brown ! " 
 
 And the barber kept on shaving. 
 
 "With some sawdust and bark 
 I could stuff in the dark 
 
 1 a-nat'o-my, the structure of the body. 
 
 2 or-ni-thol'o-gy, the study of birds. 
 ^ pos'ture, position. 
 
 ^ taz'i-der-mists, those who stuff and mount skins of animals. 
 
 ^ John Burroughs, a distinguished naturaUst and writer upon nature. 
 
32 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 An owl better than that. 
 
 I could make an old hat 
 
 Look more like an owl 
 
 Than that horrid fowl, 
 
 Stuck up there so stiff like a side of coai*se leather. 
 
 In fact, about him there's not one natural feather." 
 
 Just then, with a wink and a sly normal lurch. 
 
 The owl, very gravely, got down from his perch, 
 
 Walked round, and regarded his fault-finding critic 
 
 (Who thought he was stuffed) with a glance analytic. 
 
 And then fairly hooted, as if he should say, 
 
 " Your learning 's at fault this time, any way ; 
 
 Don't waste it again on a live bird, I pray. 
 
 I 'm an owl ; you 're another. Sir Critic, good-day ! " 
 
 And the barber kept on shaving. 
 
 IV. JOHNMAYNARD. 
 
 By John B. Gougii.^ 
 
 JOHN MAYNARD was pilot of the steamer "Ocean 
 Queen," which plied on Lake Erie between Buffalo and 
 Detroit. He was well known as an honest, intelligent 
 man ; and now the time came when he was to prove him- 
 self as true a hero as ever lived. 
 
 One bright midsummer day, as the " Ocean Queen " was 
 steaming towards Buffalo, smoke was seen ascending from 
 
 1 John Bartholomew Gough (1817-1886) was a man who did 
 
 great good in the world. When quite a young man, he fell a victim to 
 the evil habit of drunkenness; but later he reformed, and for. the 
 rest of his life tried to save others who were the victims of the same 
 habit. 
 
JOHN MAYNARD. 33 
 
 below. Tlie captain at once directed the mate, Simpson, to 
 go down and see what caused the smoke. Presently the 
 officer returned, his face pale as ashes, and whispered, '' Cap- 
 tain, the ship is on fire I " 
 
 The terrible tidings quickly spread among the passengers, 
 of whom there were more than a hundred. *' The ship is on 
 fire ! " they uttered with blanched lips. " The ship is on 
 fire ! " 
 
 The captain was a cool, self-possessed man. Having 
 called up all hands, he issued quick, sharp orders. Buckets 
 of water were dashed upon the fire ; but as the steamer car- 
 ried a large quantity of rosin and tar, the flames spread so 
 quickly that all effort to extinguish them was vain. 'J'o 
 add to the horror of the situation, the lake steamers at that 
 time seldom carried boats. The " Ocean Queen " had none. 
 
 The passengers rushed to the pilot, and anxiously asked, 
 "How far are we from Buffalo ? " 
 
 " Seven miles." 
 
 " How long before we can reach it ? " 
 
 " Three quarters of an hour, at our present rate of speed." 
 
 *'Is there any danger?" 
 
 "Danger here. See the smoke bursting out! Go for- 
 ward, if you would save your lives ! " 
 
 Passengers and crew — men, women, and children — 
 crowded the forward part of the ship. John Maynard 
 stood at the wheel. 
 
 The flames burst forth in a sheet of fire ; clouds of smoke 
 arose. 
 
 The captain shouted through his trumpet, " John May- 
 nard ! " 
 
 "Ay, ay, sir!" 
 
 " Are you at the helm ? " 
 
34 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir ! " 
 
 " How does she head ? " 
 
 " Southeast by east, sir ! " 
 
 " Head her southeast, and run her on shore ! " 
 
 Nearer, and nearer yet she approached the shore. Again 
 the captain cried out, " John Maynard ! " 
 
 The response came feebly, " Ay, ay, sir ! " 
 
 " Can you hokl out five minutes longer, John ? " 
 
 " By God's help I will ! " 
 
 The old man's hair was scorched from the scalp : one 
 hand disabled, his knee upon the stanchion,^ and his teeth 
 set, with his other hand upon the wheel, he stood firm as 
 a rock. 
 
 He beached the ship ; every man, woman, and child was 
 sayed as John Maynard dropped, and his spirit took flight 
 to its God. 
 
 Adapted. 
 
 V. THE FIRST SNOWFALL. 
 
 By James Russell Lowell. ' 
 
 '"pHE snow had begun in the gloaming, 
 A And busily all the night 
 Had been heaping field and highway 
 With a silence deep and white. 
 
 Every pine and fir and hemlock 
 Wore ermine too dear for an earl, 
 
 And the poorest twig on the elm tree 
 Was ridged inch-deep ;with pearl. 
 
 ^ stan'chion, an upright timber wliich supports flie (]o('k. 
 
THE FIRST SNOWFALL. 35 
 
 From sheds new-roofed with Carrara ^ 
 Came Chanticleer's muffled crow; 
 
 The stiff rails were softened to swan's-down, 
 And still fluttered down the snow. 
 
 I stood and watched by the window 
 
 The noiseless work of the sky, 
 And the sudden flurries of snowbirds, 
 
 Like brown leaves whirling by. 
 
 I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn 
 
 Where a little headstone stood; 
 How the flakes were folding it gently 
 
 As did robins the babes in the wood. 
 
 Up spoke our own little Mabel, 
 
 Saying, " Father, who makes it snow ? " 
 
 And I told of the good All-father 
 Who cares for us here below. 
 
 Again I looked at the snowfall, 
 
 And thought of the leaden sky 
 That arched o'er our first great sorrow. 
 
 When the mound was heaped so high. 
 
 I remembered the gradual patience 
 That fell from that cloud like snow, 
 
 Flake by flake, healing and hiding 
 The scar that renewed our woe. 
 
 And again, to the child I whispered, 
 " The snow that husheth all, 
 
 ^ Car-ra'ra, a valuable marble, named from the place where the 
 quarry is situated. 
 
36 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Darling, the merciful Father 
 Alone can make it fall." 
 
 Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her; 
 
 And she, kissing back, could not know 
 That my kiss was given to her sister. 
 
 Folded close under deepening snow. 
 
 VI. WRITING. 
 
 READING and writing are twin arts. Man is supposed 
 to be the only animal possessing a definite ^ and com- 
 plete ^ language. Originally, man could communicate his 
 thought to his immediate^ neighbor by means of language, 
 but could not send it to one remote,'^ nor could he transmit ^ 
 it to those who should live after him. So men early de- 
 vised ^ means for the retention "' and transmission ^ of their 
 ideas. These means are called symbols. A symbol is a 
 sign which stands for an idea ; so that, when one sees a 
 symbol, he knows the thought for which it stands. The 
 earliest symbols of thought were rude pictures, such as 
 savages in nearly all ages and countries have made use 
 of, — pictures describing events. This was a very_slow and 
 unsatisfactory way of communicating^ thought, and so 
 shorter symbols were made. In the first place they were 
 
 ^ definite, fixed. 
 
 2 complete', full ; containing everything necessary. 
 
 8 im-me'di-ate, near. o de-vised', worked out. 
 
 * re-mote', far away. "^ re-ten'tion, keeping. 
 
 * trans-mit', send ; give to another. " trans-mis'sion, giving to others. 
 
 9 com-mu'ni-cat-ing, making conmion ; imparting to others. 
 
READING. 37 
 
 abbreviated ^ pictures, and were called " hieroglyphics." 
 These were inscribed ^ upon stone or clay, and explorers 
 in the far East to-day find whole libraries of books made 
 of clay covered with hieroglyphic characters telling of the 
 battles, and victories of kings, and of other important events. 
 Some of you may have seen the obelisk ^ in Central Park, 
 New York, which is covered with such records. 
 
 This, too, was a slow and tedious way of recording 
 thought; so, in time, a people living in Phoenicia, at the 
 eastern end of the Mediterranean Sea, invented an alphabet, 
 or system of letters, by which words could be represented, 
 and all civilized people have used alphabets ever since in 
 recording their thoughts. But it took many, many hundred 
 years for men to perfect a system which we now use so 
 freely, and of which we sometimes think so little. 
 
 VII. READING. 
 
 READING is the twin sister of writing. It is the inter- 
 pretation^ of symbols, either for ourselves or for 
 others. One who can read looks at a symbol, or a series ^ of 
 symbols, as a page of printing or writing, and understands 
 the thought which the writer intended the symbols to ex- 
 press. Then, if he is reading aloud, he speaks the words 
 which the writer has put down. Hence, there are two ele- 
 ments ^ in good reading : one, understanding the thought that 
 is written ; and the other, speaking it plainly. No reader 
 
 ^ ab-bre'vi-at-ed, shortened ; made smaller. 
 
 2 in-scribed', written on. 
 
 3 ob'e-lisk, a stone monument such as was made in ancient Egypt. 
 * in-ter-pre-ta'tion, making plain. 
 
 ^ se'ries, row ; succession. ^ ere-ments, parts. 
 
38 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 should attempt to read aloud until he himself fully under- 
 stands what he is reading, and tlien he should use every 
 effort to make it plain to those who are listening. To do 
 this, it is necessary that he speak as if the thoughts were 
 his own and he were telling them to his hearers. He must 
 be careful to speak loud enough to be heard, and to pro- 
 nounce all words clearly. 
 
 Words are made up of vowels and consonants. Some 
 people speak the consonants plainly, but neglect the vowels. 
 Others speak the vowels plainly, but are careless about the 
 consonants. Vowels are sounds made by the breath, and 
 modified by the shape of the mouth. In sounding them, the 
 breath is allowed to pass out of the mouth freely. The con- 
 sonants are made by the position of the palate, teeth, tongue, 
 and lips, and in most of them the breath is stopped while 
 passing out. The vowels are a, e, i, o, u, and y. Pronounce 
 them, and you will see that you can continue to sound them 
 as long as your breath lasts, — all excepting the long sound 
 of i and y, which is really made up of two sounds. 
 
 The consonant elements are : — 
 
 Made by lips, — p, h, w, m ; 
 
 Made by lips and teeth, — /, v ; 
 
 Made by tongue and teeth, — r th ; 
 
 Made by tongue and hard and soft palate, — t, d, s, z, r, 77, 
 /, k, g, h, I, y, ch, sh, zL 
 
 So you see that in reading you must be careful of your 
 tongue, palate, teeth, and lips, and of your breath. But you 
 do not need to think of all tlicse unless you find that you 
 do not use one of them properly ; then think about that and 
 try to use it properly, until you have corrected the fault. 
 For the art of reading well is a beautiful art, and through it 
 you can give much pleasure to your friends. 
 
A LEGEND OF BREGENZ. 39 
 
 VIII. A LEGEND OF BREGENZ.^ 
 
 By Adelaide Anne Procter. 2 
 
 GIRT round with rugged mountains 
 The fair Lake Constance ^ lies ; 
 In her blue heart reflected, 
 
 Shine back the starry skies ; 
 And, watching each white cloudlet 
 
 Float silently and slow, 
 You think a piece of Heaven 
 Lies on our earth below ! 
 
 Midnight is there : and Silence, 
 
 Enthroned in Heaven, looks down 
 Upon her own calm mirror, 
 
 Upon a sleeping town : 
 For Bregenz, that quaint city 
 
 Upon the Tyrol ^ shore. 
 Has stood above Lake Constance 
 
 A thousand years and more. 
 
 Her battlements and towers. 
 
 From off their rocky steep, 
 Have cast their trembling shadow 
 
 For ages on the deep. 
 
 1 Bre-gena (Bra-ghents), a city in Austria-Hungary. 
 
 2 Adelaide Anne Procter (1825-1864) was the daughter of 
 Bryan Waller Procter ("Barry Cornwall"), and wrote poems equal 
 to her father's. "A Legend of Bregenz" is among her best. 
 
 8 Con'stance, a lake, famous for its beauty, lying between Switzer- 
 land, Austria-Hungary, and Germany. 
 
 4 Tyr'ol, a mountainous province in Austria-Hungary. 
 
40 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Mountain and lake and valley 
 
 A sacred legend know, 
 Of how the town was saved one night 
 
 Three hundred years ago. 
 
 Far from' her home and kindred 
 
 A Tyrol maid had fled, 
 To serve in the Swiss valleys, 
 
 And toil for daily bread ; 
 And every year that fleeted 
 
 So silently and fast 
 Seemed to bear farther from her 
 
 The memory of the Past. 
 
 She spoke no more of Bregenz 
 
 With longing and with tears ; 
 Her Tyrol home seemed faded 
 
 In a deep mist of years ; 
 Yet, when her master's children 
 
 Would clustering round her stand, 
 She sang them ancient ballads 
 
 Of her own native land ; 
 
 And when at morn and evening 
 
 She knelt before God's throne, 
 The accents of her childhood 
 
 Rose to her lips alone. 
 And so she dwelt : the valley 
 
 More peaceful year by year ; 
 When suddenly strange portents ^ 
 
 Of some great deed seemed near. 
 
 1 Por'teiits, signs. 
 
A LEGEND OF BREGENZ. 41 
 
 One day, out in the meadow, 
 
 With strangers from the town 
 Some secret plan discussing. 
 
 The men walked up and down. 
 At eve they all assembled ; 
 
 Then care and doubt were fled ; 
 With jovial laugh they feasted ; 
 
 The board was nobly spread. 
 
 The elder of the village 
 
 Rose up, his glass in hand. 
 And cried, " We drink the downfall 
 
 Of an accursed land! 
 The night is growing darker ; 
 
 Ere one more day is flown, 
 Bregenz, our foeman's stronghold, 
 
 Bregenz shall be our own I " 
 
 The women shrank in terror 
 
 (Yet Pride, too, had her part), 
 But one poor Tyrol maiden 
 
 Felt death within her heart. 
 Nothing she heard around her 
 
 (Though shouts rang forth again) ; 
 Gone were the green Swiss vallejrs, 
 
 The pasture and the plain ; 
 
 Before her eyes one vision. 
 
 And in her heart one cry 
 That said, " Go forth ! save Bregenz, 
 
 And then, if need be, die ! " 
 
42 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 With trembling haste and breathless, 
 With noiseless step she sped ; 
 
 Horses and weary cattle 
 Were standing in the shed ; 
 
 She loosed the strong white charger 
 
 That fed from out her hand ; 
 She mounted, and she turned liis head 
 
 Towards her native land. 
 Out — out into the darkness — 
 
 Faster, and still more fast ; — 
 The smooth grass flies behind her, 
 
 The chestnut wood is past; 
 
 She looks up; clouds are heavy; 
 
 Why is her steed so slow ? -^ 
 Scarcely the wind beside them 
 
 Can pass them as they go. 
 " Faster ! " she cries, " oh, faster ! '' 
 
 Eleven the church bells chime; 
 *•' O God," she cries, " help Bregenz, 
 
 And bring me there in time ! " 
 
 But louder than bells' ringing. 
 
 Or lowing of the kine, 
 Grows nearer in the midnight 
 
 The rushing of the Rhine. 
 She strives to pierce the blackness 
 
 And looser throws the rein ; 
 Her steed must breast the waters 
 
 That dash above his mane. 
 
A LEGEND OF BREGENZ. 
 
 43 
 
44 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 How gallantly, how nobly, 
 
 He struggles through the foam I 
 And see — in the far distance 
 
 Shine out the lights of home ! 
 Up the steep bank he bears her, 
 
 And now they rush again 
 Towards the heights of Bregenz 
 
 That tower above the plain. 
 
 They reach the gates of Bregenz 
 
 Just as the midnight rings, 
 And out come serf and soldier 
 
 To meet the news she brings. 
 Bregenz is saved ! Ere daylight 
 
 Her battlements are manned ; 
 Defiance greets the army 
 
 That marches on the land. 
 
 Three hundred years are vanished, 
 
 And yet upon the hill 
 An old stone gateway rises 
 
 To do her honor still. 
 And there, when Bregenz women 
 
 Sit spinning in the shade, 
 They see in quaint old carving 
 
 The Charger and the Maid. 
 
 And when, to guard old Bregenz 
 By gateway, street, and tower, 
 
 The warder paces all night long 
 And calls each passing hour; 
 
THE KNIGHTS OF OLD. 45 
 
 "Nine," "ten," "eleven," he cries aloud, 
 And then (Oh, crown of Fame I), 
 
 When midnight pauses in the skies, 
 He calls the maiden's name! 
 
 IX. THE KNIGHTS OF OLD. 
 
 MORE than a thousand years ago there lived in the 
 part of the Avorld that is now called France a 
 famous king whose name was Charlemagne. Tliis Charle- 
 magne was a very wonderful man. He was strong, brave in 
 battle, noble and generous, and also a very wise ruler. He 
 made one great kingdom out of what was before many petty 
 tribes and states. 
 
 King Charlemagne gathered about him many brave, noble 
 knights to grace his court and fight his battles. Fighting 
 Avas then thought to be tlie noblest work that man could do, 
 for Charlemagne lived in the Dark Ages, as they were 
 called. His knights, clad in suits of armor, used to go 
 about the country seeking battles with other knights. They 
 usually fought in the name and for the glory of some lady 
 whose favor they expected to win. 
 
 You must understand that in those days gunpowder was 
 not known ; so battles were fought hand to hand, with 
 swords and spears. The knights, and the horses that they 
 rode, were covered with suits of steel armor to protect them 
 from the blow'S of the enemy. The men wore metal hel- 
 mets on their heads, breastplates of steel to protect them in 
 front, and even steel gauntlets to protect their hands and 
 arms. Indeed, there was no part of the body that was not 
 covered with armor. 
 
46 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 The knights of King Charlemagne were called "pala- 
 dins," and though they often fought with the other knights 
 of France, for tlie ladies or for glory, their chief enemies 
 were the followers of a great conqueror whose name was 
 Mohammed. These were a wild, warlike people who had 
 conquered Jerusalem and the Holy Land, who ruled all the 
 northern part of Africa and had finally come in great num- 
 bers into France and Spain. They were known as Saracens. 
 Between them and the paladins of Charlemagne many fierce 
 battles were fought. 
 
 Ariosto was a poet who lived in Italy, the land where the 
 Romans once lived. He wrote a book which he called 
 " Orlando Furioso," in which he told many tales of battles 
 which were supposed to have been fought between the 
 paladins and Saracens. Some of these tales have been 
 rewritten in our language, and published in a volume 
 entitled " Paladin and Saracen." I hope many of you will 
 read them. One of these tales is as follows. 
 
 X. THE ADVENTURES OF BRADAMANTE.* 
 
 By Ludovico Ariosto. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 MANY were the brave deeds done by the paladins of 
 France, and when I have told you a few of them you 
 will easily believe that so gallant a band of knights never 
 fought under the banner of any prince before or afterwards. 
 And one of the boldest and most skillful warriors in the 
 great Emperor's army was a gentle maiden born of the 
 noblest family of France. 
 
 1 Brad'a-mante (Brad'a-mant). 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF BRADAMANTE. 47 
 
 Bradamante was the name of this ^'arlike damsel, and 
 her father was Duke Hammon, of Montalbano, so that 
 she came of the famous house of Clairmont, and was sister 
 to Raynald the Paladin, and cousin to the peerless Roland. 
 But though her valor in arms was such that Charlemagne 
 esteemed her the equal of her fiery brother, yet she was 
 gentle of heart, as befitted a dame of such high degree, and 
 dearly loved a noble young prince of the Saracen army, 
 whom many held to be the bravest knight in all the camp 
 of King Agramant. Roger was the name of this valiant 
 prince, whom his comrades surnamed the Courteous, and 
 he loved the noble Bradamante with all his heart, so that 
 above everything in the world he longed to win her for 
 his bride. 
 
 Now, when the battle of the Pyrenees was fairly lost, 
 Bradamante separated herself from the retreating paladins 
 and set out in quest of her lover; for she had perceived 
 that he was not among the knights who fought around the 
 Saracen king, and she feared that some evil chance had 
 befallen him. She asked news of Roger from every one 
 she met, but no one could tell her anything of the Courteous 
 Prince; so she rode on alone through a vast forest and 
 over a lofty mountain, till she came down on the other side 
 of it to a shady valley, at the head of which a spring of clear 
 water bubbled out from a rocky cave and ran down between 
 the green pastures and through the beautiful copses. 
 
 By the side of the stream lay a knight, who had tied his 
 horse to a beech tree near the bank ; and, as he seemed very 
 sorrowful, Bradamante asked him what was his grief, and 
 whether she could do anything to help him. But he sup- 
 posed her to be a man like himself, and answered her : " Sir 
 Knight, I am truly the most wretched of men, and much I 
 
48 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 fear that no man can avail to help me. For a week ago 
 I was leading my people to fight for the Emperor, and with 
 me was my gentle lady, in whose love is all my happiness, 
 when suddenly there appeared in the air above us a warrior 
 in shining armor, riding upon a winged monster with the 
 head of a griffin and the body of a horse, who seized my 
 lady in his arms and placed her on his own saddle, and, in 
 spite of her teai-s and shrieks, carried her off through the 
 air as the eagle carries a bleating lamb to his nest. There- 
 upon I left my soldiers to go on without their leader to 
 battle, and turning my horse's head I followed alone in the 
 direction in which the robber had vanished with my lady. 
 
 "Three days I rode over desolate mountains and through 
 dark forests, and on the fourth day I came to a dreary 
 valley, in the midst of which rose a steep crag of bare rock, 
 and on the top of the rock stood a vast castle which daz- 
 zled the eyes of all who looked upon it ; for its walls and 
 towers were built of shining steel, and not a speck of rust 
 or dirt was to be seen on their shining surface. When I 
 saw this wonderful castle, I thought that here surely was 
 the stronghold of the robber whom I sought, and without 
 delay I essayed to ride up to the gate ; but my horse was 
 weary from long journeying, and could not clamber up the 
 steep rock upon which the castle was built. So I was forced 
 to remain in the valley below. 
 
 "But while I stood there, not knowing what would 
 become of me, there came by Gradasso, the King of China, 
 and the African Prince Roger, who asked me the meaning 
 of my sorrow and perplexity. And when I had told it to 
 them they clambered to the top of the rock, and, seizing 
 the horn which hung upon the gatepost, challenged the 
 master of the castle to combat. But, alas I though they 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF BRADAMANTE. 49 
 
 were the bravest warriors upon earth, they could not pre- 
 vail against this villain; for the swoop of the winged 
 monster was swifter than the swoop of the hawk upon 
 his prey, and their sword thrusts were spent upon the 
 empty air, while the blows of their enemy fell true upon 
 their shields and helmets. 
 
 "And at last, after he had wearied them awhile with the 
 unequal combat, he stripped off the silken cover from his 
 shield, and at the sight of it they fainted away upon the 
 ground; for that shield is forged of enchanted steel, and 
 whoever beholds its brilliance must fall dazzled and sense- 
 less to the earth. I too lost my senses at that terrible 
 sight, and when I came to myself the robber and the 
 knights had disappeared, and I was lying alone upon the 
 ground. Thereupon I lost all my hope, and rode sorrow- 
 fully away, and came to this fountain, where I remain in 
 grief and despair ; for the robber is so mighty an enchanter 
 that nothing can avail to vaiiquish him." 
 
 Now when Bradamante first heard the name of Roger, her 
 heart was filled with joy ; but when she learned how he had 
 fallen into the hands of the enchanter, she turned pale with 
 fear, and knew not what to think of her lover's fate ; only 
 she was resolved at once to go and try if she could not deliver 
 him from this pex'il. So when the knight had finished his 
 woeful story, she said, " Lead me at once, I pray you, Sir 
 Knight, to this castle, for I must try my strength against 
 the enchanter without delay." 
 
 And the knight answered that he would gladly show the 
 way, but the enterpriafi_would certainly end in disaster ; for 
 no man could hope to stand against the owner of the flying 
 horse and. the enchanted shield. Therewith they set out 
 upon their journey ; but they had hardly gone a hundred 
 
60 .aTKAllAO^^PlFTH HBAI5ERr/aA aHT 
 
 yards' before a messenger'cam:^' up tft^fttU' galloji) frbni* big^ 
 hind them, and calling Bradamante by name, cried : "Noble 
 lady, hasten to the rescue of your people, for the city of 
 Marseilles and all the county of fair Provence is assailed 
 by ithe iSaracehs;''''' mi' •hdi io 8woId edi Qiidw fiifi "^qnio 
 Now Charlemagne had appointed firidamau'feigfrv^d^ 
 QJV^er all Provenceyknd^when she heard this doleful' iieVs 
 she knew not what 'to doi; buthat-J^gth she decided to go 
 tot ! to ' ihe succbTJof. : /the Briiice!,o oiA', 'af t^tw^rds = iJO htrr!^ 
 bn;.to the rescue of Iter 'subjects.- So she bade the m^s^ 
 senger return and sa-y that- 'she would come to their relief 
 a4 soon as she had i finished a pressing adventui'e ; and 
 with this I answeoiith^itmessenger gallbped ''feadk^-''by^'teiis 
 sa;me wayGheIjhaaJiii56me//aAdideftrih)5:f - 6?0ie^^^to ^ f»Uisui^%;te^ 
 jcyumey.SiJO'i tuR jOqcii ^{fri iisi j^.oi T {('Knii^'jOuT .Ijiitjcr^ 
 m But a^rdate«JiairgeficaitteQiv6rJ^e spirit of b^l'0;6i«pa|iM 
 •w^hfin'he^^iheardliitiief nai&ie^®f'i«Bradamahte, and fi^o^A '^ka* 
 moment all gratitude ifbniiier ge neros ity fotsjpok Miiil an^d 
 he thought only how^ lie -might do her mischief .- '' For he 
 came of the false brood of Maganza, which was ''eVer at 
 enmity withnthe noble house ' of Olairftioiit; and of all' tfife 
 traitor ous l ine this Count Pinabel -^ for so the knight- was 
 named —was the basest find the wor^t. Willingly would 
 he have slain the noble' damsel where she stood, biit he 
 knew that he could ndt hope to bVer^^^e hi^^r; :&d hfvi« ^di- 
 tated how he might do by treachery what he could neVei* 
 accomplish by fair fight. With this intent he led the way', 
 as though he would guide her faithfully to the enchanted 
 ualtlet^aud Bradamante pres^eid'oii eageirly behiftd' hitn, f 64" 
 she never suspected that he was^bii^ 'bf the enemies of htet 
 race, and felt nothing but pity- ^oi?'%te'ki&f oi*ttine 'and im!- 
 patienc^ to deliver her lov^i^^ilj ^^<^ ;y;jirnJor I'^edi noav 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF BRADAMANTE. 61 
 
 ; Thus they rode together down the valley and through a 
 great forest, and came to the foot of a mountain, which 
 they set themselves to cross ; bu^as they were winding up 
 its side, Pinabel turned to his companion and said: "At 
 the top of '^ihis knountain there is a deep pit which leads 
 into a dark cave beneath the ground ; and when I passed 
 the place two days ago I saw a beautiful damsel sitting at 
 the bottom of the pit, and weeping as though her heart 
 would break for Sorrow^ And evenoias7iI.;'lookedi a. 'vilt 
 lainous looking ruffian came out of' the cave and rudely 
 dragged her in with him by the wrist, though with sobs 
 and tears she implored him to have mercy on her and 
 release lier from her imprisonment." 7;v[ooi add noq/j 
 ^i Now Bradamante was ever ready? :to 'help those who 
 needed it, so she answered that it were a shame to pass so 
 near the place without attempting to deliver the damsel, and 
 there was just tinie enough to accomplish the ; enterprise 
 before the setting of the sun. So they rode on to the 
 mouth of the pit, where Bradamante drew her sword and 
 lopped^ off a great bough from an oak that grew hard by, 
 and giving it to Pinabel, isaid :;*f Keep firm hold of the 
 efldof^this pole^ and I"will loWer myself down by it into 
 
 ^ ■ So Pinabel ' grasped - id^f ^endiT idfil tlifev bougii' • with' botL 
 
 hands and lowered it into the pit, while the noble Brada- 
 mante sheathed her sWord and began scrambling down this 
 shaky ladder without ever trying to find out how nearly 
 it reached the bottom. But she had not gone half way 
 down its length when the false Pinabel suddenly let it slip 
 from his hands, and cried with a diabolical laugh : "Would 
 that all thy hateful race were with thee on this pole, that 
 I might destroy. tjiem. in., an instanf;.'* And thereupon lie 
 
62 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 mounted his horse and rode away rejoicing in the success 
 of his dastardly treason ; for I need hardly tell you that 
 his story of the distressed damsel was a sheer invention of 
 his own to lure Bradamante to her destruction ; and he 
 little thought that his treachery would be the means of 
 giving her the victory over the enchanter, or that it would 
 lead to his own death. 
 
 The pit was very deep, and was bored out of the solid 
 rock ; but happily for Bradamante her fall was broken by 
 the great bough to which she clung, and this saved her from 
 being dashed to pieces as Pinabel had expected, though so 
 rude was her fall that she lay stunned for more than an 
 hour upon the rocky floor. But when she recovered her 
 senses she found that in one respect Pinabel had spoken 
 more truly than he knew or intended ; for there was really 
 a door in the wall of the pit, which seemed to lead into the 
 bowels of the earth. She passed through it, and found her- 
 self in a cavern hollowed out of the hard rock, so vast that 
 it might have served for the den of a race of giants ; but the 
 form in which it wais built suggested rather the appearance 
 of a solemn cathedral ; great columns of the purest alabaster ^ 
 rose from floor to roof, and divided it into nave ^ and aisles, 
 and the whole grotto was lighted by a single lamp of won- 
 derful brightness, which hung before an altar in the distant 
 apse.'' 
 
 While Bradamante gazed in wonder around her, a beau- 
 tiful lady, clad in robes of purple samite,* and with her 
 black hair bound by a chain of golden bees, came from 
 
 ^ al'a-baa-ter, a beautiful and valuable variety of limestone, used for 
 ornamental structures and articles. 
 
 2 nave, the main body of a church. 
 
 8 apse, the projection from the end of a church. 
 • * sa'mite (sa'mit), a peculiarly beautiful silk cloth. 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF BRADAMANTE. 
 
 53 
 
 before the altar and said : " Welcome, noble Bradamante, 
 and know that it is no mere chance that brings you hither ; 
 for this is the grotto which Merlin the Wise commanded the 
 spirits of the earth to fashion for him, and hither his body 
 was brought when the false Vivien laid him in a trance for- 
 ever. Now, therefore, his body lies motionless in the tomb 
 which I will show you, but his spirit is alive within him, 
 and prophesies of the future to all who seek his counsel. 
 And when I came many days ago to consult him he told me 
 that you would follow me hither to-day, and bade me stay 
 to show you the high fortunes that await you. Come with 
 me therefore to the tomb, and hear what his voice will say to 
 you, and afterwards I will teach you all things needful for 
 your fame and happiness. For I am the enchantress Melissa, 
 the friend of you and all your house, and Merlin has ap- 
 pointed me to guard your destinies and bring to naught the 
 counsels of your enemies." 
 
 With these words Melissa led the astonished Bradamante 
 
 to the apse at the end of the grotto, and, 
 opening another door in the wall, disclosed 
 a vaulted chapel, in the center of which 
 stood the sepulcher of Merlin the Wise. 
 The walls of the chapel were lined with 
 transparent marble, which shed a soft rosy light through 
 the place, but the tomb was a great sarcophagus of un- 
 
9f^ .aTTlAMAA/iHCFTH:^ READERaVQA HHT 
 
 blemished cfjrstal, and in it the body of the mighty wizard: 
 had lain entranced for a hundred years, so that his white 
 beard was grown down to his knees ; but the blood had noti 
 left his lips, nor the color faded from his cheeks. And there 
 he must lie till the end of the world, for there is .n^xemedy. 
 t<0. break the spell which binds him in this:traniQe,Y/oM; /i^)V9 
 , , !N^o w as Bradamante entered : the > door the voice of Merlin 
 i^feiUf^ from, the midst .of ' iJie erystal sepuicher^ ^and : m-d^' i-a n 
 
 Y^ia emS^l^^^^^^'-^^^^ ^^ ^^^^^"^^R^.Hliiow no^ ^£d; 
 ; . ,A fflorious destiny is thine, , • r i l j 
 
 ifjiT/ emoO. *^ ,. ., , ,,.iVii odi ifoyv/oria c J 
 
 And naught avails man s enmity*^ ^ 
 
 c>] ^^^8 iliw^o balk the Fates of their decr^e.^''' *^'^ O'lolQ-iodi 9ffl 
 
 •Ktl luibsivThe traitor seeks thy life in vainj'"'-"^^'''*'^»> ^--^ -^^^^X 
 
 ,;)ar:ik'M BfWhose treason works his victim's gaiii| :L i:; i ' - / 
 
 -rij end nlln vain the enchanter's craft is pjied / 5o bnoi'ii oil) 
 
 To tear thee from thy bridegroom's 3^4"^,^ q^j f::9iaio(i 
 
 All blissful joy shall crown thy life;,.^^^-, ^^ ^l^^tulO') 
 
 r The Fates appoint thee Roger's wife: . ..... 
 
 Fame and success thy steps betide I 
 
 ^_,-,.„^_^Thus Merlin's soul greets Roger's bride..*' , ^ ^■■^■^■■t 
 
 Then a great silence fell upon the chapel, and the tioble 
 damsel was like to faint for joy ; but kind Melissa took her 
 by the hand and led her back into the spacious grotto, where 
 she set food and wine before her, and bade her eat and, 
 drink and recover her strength, and afterwards she should 
 heairall that Merlin: had [Commissioned the enchantress to 
 tblLhlei?»ib .liBV/ odl ni -loob loiflon^ p^ninoqo 
 .[As soon as they hkd refreshed theinselves with the supper 
 Melissa said : '' First I will show you the likenesses of all 
 the great warriors and wise statesmen and all the gracious 
 ladies: that shall descend from your union with Prince: 
 Roger; fo?^ you have heard from the lips of Merlin that ypjiij 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF BRADAMANTE. «8B 
 
 are destined to be his bride, and it is fated that .you^sliould 
 found one of the mightiest families in the world.^fff- i noi^igso 
 biAavlI'witk :th«se .^ords the enchantress drew a magic r 
 eifcle in the center of the grotto^ and inside the circle she; 
 traced the lines of a pentacle, in which she bade Bradamante; 
 take her stand. I suppose you know what a pentacle is just 
 as well as I do, so I am not going to tell you about i:i|} here; 
 f pr yoii. have only to read your '* Ingoldsby Legends " ^ to 
 find out how it is made, and will give yourself the treat 
 of a good hearty fit of laughing into the bargain. 
 
 Well, then, Bradamante placed herself within the pentacle, 
 and Melissa took a wand in her right hand and a book of 
 magic in her left, and began reading the spells by which 
 she controlled the spirits to her purpose. And as she read, 
 a grjeat' multitude of spirits passed one byi one before, theifi 
 eyBS^i wearing the likeness of Bradamante's future descend-i 
 aiits : some were armed from head to foot in shining mail,:; 
 others wore crowns upon their heads^ and carried princely^ 
 scepters iii their hands, while sQiae ^ippfe^ed in the guise I 
 o^- smooth-cheeked lads in the' slaish^d doublets and bright 
 parti-cblored hose such as you see in old Italian pictures, ; 
 
 Numbers of ladies, too^ filed before them: grave matrons: 
 with silver hair and slbw majestic gait, pfotid princesses* 
 in jeweled coronets and magnificent brocaded gowns, and/ 
 meTi-y rtiaidens with nuti-brown hair and laughing gray eyes, 
 whose sunny smiles seemed to gladden all the grotto. And 
 as the spirits passed by Melissa told Bradamante whom they 
 represented and what ' ^ouM i be eac}> one's destiny in the: 
 world ; and greatly did the noble damsel rejoice to think 
 that she should be the mother of so princely a race. 
 
 ^ Ingoldsby Legends, a series of satirical stories by Richard 
 Harris Barhain. '^ ^^^' esb^ed has i si-gas n& nnAi id'gih aii 
 
56 A FIFTH READER. ^ 
 
 Three full hours she spent in watching this brilliant pro- 
 cession ; but when they were all gone by, the kind enchant- 
 ress said : " Now. we will take our rest for the night, and 
 in the morning I will tell you everything that you must do 
 to deliver Prince Roger out of the enchanted castle, and I 
 will go with you as far as I can upon your journey." So 
 she prepared a bed for Bradamante and another for her- 
 self, whereon they both slept soundly till the following 
 sunrise. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AT sunrise the two noble ladies set out upon their jour- 
 ney, which they were forced to perform on foot, for 
 the traitor Pinabel had made off with Bradamante's charger. 
 But even if they had had a horse, he would have been more 
 a hindrance than a help to them, for the path was dark and 
 difficult, and led them into a thickly wooded ravine shut in 
 by almost impassable precipices, so that they had to spend 
 the whole day in scrambling down the face of the cliffs, and 
 crossing the rocky beds of foaming torrents. But Melissa 
 relieved the troubles of the journey by wise and pleasant 
 discourse, and especially she told her companion how she 
 was to set about the deliverance of her lover. 
 
 " Everything," she said, " which Pinabel told you about 
 the enchanter is true to the letter ; for the castle walls are 
 really of solid steel, and its position is so strong that even 
 though you were as powerful as Charlemagne and King 
 Agramant put together, and had both their, armies at your 
 orders, you could never take it by assault.' The winged 
 monster, too, upon which the magician rid6s, is swifter in 
 its flight than an eagle; and besides all this, the bright 
 
THE ADVENTURES OF BRADAMANTE. 67 
 
 shield is so cunningly enchanted that eveiy one who beholds 
 it is struck helpless and swooning to the ground. But 
 though force will not help you,! will tell you how you may 
 defeat your enemy by spells that are stronger than his own. 
 
 " There is a magic ring, which, if you wear it on j^our 
 finger, will keep you unharmed amid all enchantments, 
 while if you put it into your mouth you will immediately 
 become invisible. >. This precious ring once belonged to the 
 beautiful Princess Angelica, the beloved of Count Roland ; 
 but while she was yet in her Indian kingdom it was stolen 
 from her by the rascally thief Brunello, who took it with him 
 into Africa and sold it for a great price to King Agramant. 
 And Agramant is now sending the thief to deliver Prince 
 Roger by its aid; for he values the Courteous Prince above 
 all the other knights in his array. But Roger must owe his 
 deliverance to you alone, and not to such a scoundrel as 
 Brunello ; and this is how you must manage it. 
 
 " To-night I will leave you at a little inn on the shore of 
 the Bay of Biscay, where you must wait patiently for two 
 days. On the third day Brunello will come to the place ; 
 and you will easily recognize him, for he is a hideous dwarf, 
 less .than five feet high, with a skin as brown as walnut- 
 juice, and a crop of frizzled black hair on his mis-shapen 
 head ; his eyes are swollen and bleared, his nose flat and 
 crooked, and his eyebrows so thick and shaggy that you 
 would think his beard had grown there by mistake. Now 
 you must ask him to be your guide, and tell him that you 
 are burning with eagerness to fight against the enchanter; 
 but say nothing of Prince Roger, or he will certainly 
 give you the slip. And when you come in sight of the 
 castle, turn suddenly upon him and cut off his head with 
 your sword; and don't pity or spare him, for if he had 
 
58 .STWAMACaLiTIFTH READBRIVaA 3KT 
 
 revived half his deserts he would: have swung upon tibie 
 gallows long ago. In this way you will get possession of 
 th^ rmagic ring, arid jwill te . proof against all the enchantt 
 ments of the magician ; but if you try any other means of 
 attacking him you will certainly fail, for withouti- the ^ ring 
 nobody can. withstand the power of his spellswy>[ Iliv^ >iopai: 
 
 Bradamante thanked j thei kiaid enchantress lor iieiriiirir 
 structions, which she promised to remember and follow* 
 faithfully; and immediately afterwards, they found them-» 
 selives apon' i the i seashore, arid: close : to the little inn at 
 i^Mcii Melissa wais / to -part frorii her companion. ^There 
 everything happened as she had foretold : Bradamante waited 
 for two days without seeing any stranger approach the place, 
 but ahe bought herself a fime black Spanish jennet which 
 th^ ttandlord happened to have, for sale in his stables, and 
 amused herself by trying his pacie. and/ tilting at:tk<e ring:iii> 
 the yard. ,,, .. ::[ ,,;.:v ■,>■- '. '-r..--, ■•:■; 
 
 i(,Qa the third morning, the; notorious thief Brunello came 
 tp/<)hQriinn.' and called for breakfast ; and Bradamante knew 
 him at once from Melissa's description, and thought, " This 
 must . certainly ,be my scoundrel, for the world could not 
 hbldi ; two ;such riionsters : a^ A time." He was dressed in 
 the tight leather jerkiri ^nd breeches of a courier, ( which 
 showed all the hideous deformities of his limbs at their 
 worst, his wicked-looking face was so disgustingly ugly 
 that you could hardly believe him to be a huriian being; 
 and his bony hands played restlessly about, as if they itched 
 to steal whatever his bleared eyes rested upon. 
 
 Bradamante saw with joy that on one of his fingers he 
 wore the magic ring, which was a broad hoop of solid gold, 
 with a turquoise as big and as blue as a hedge sparrow's 
 egg in the center ; and she lost no time in coming to speech 
 
THE ADVENTURES^lOF: BRADAMANTE. 59 
 
 witM him, and asking him if he could show her to the castle 
 of steel. " For," she said^.Hl havie heard much of the crimes : i 
 of the robber who dwells there, and. how he afflicts all the 
 land by carrying off noble knights and beautiful ladies to his aid 
 fortress ; and I have vowed not to put off the helmet froi^ir 
 my head nor unbuckle the sword from my side .tijl I haYfeusd 
 come to ■ an jencounter with hiiii, and tried to , ridf itYm Worjd. , j n 
 of such a plague. But the people here dare not show me ^xjj 
 the way to the castle, and so great is their terror that they' = ii 
 pretend not to know where it lies ; so that, if you know 
 these mountains and will guide me on my way, you will do 
 a great service to me and all the world." 
 
 Now to Brunello this proposal seemed a rare piece of 
 luck ; for he thought, " If only this big fellow sets to 
 whacking the enchanter, I shall find it all the easier to slip 
 into the castle and do my errand." So he put on a hideous 
 grin, which was his way of smiling pleasantly, and answered : 
 " True it is. Sir Knight, that I know every mountain and 
 valley of the^ Pyrenees as well as a farmer knows his own 
 fields and hedges ; and as I have a little spare time on my 
 hands, I will gladly show you the way to the enchanter's 
 castle." But he said nothing about the magic ring, and you 
 may be sure that Bradamante was very careful not to let a 
 word drop about Prince Roger. 
 
 Brunello was still busy over his breakfast, and the greedy 
 little scamp gobbled down half a dozen mutton chops and 
 three plates' of eggs and bacon before he Iwas c^dy tQistar;t;[[T 
 but at last he got into his saddle, and led the way towards 
 the mountains. Bradamante followed just behind him, ando^^ 
 took care not to come too close ; for, she thought, "If 1:iq[ 
 do ri*t keep my distance, those curining hands, of his. \y:ill he^c^?, 
 stealing the horse from under me." And in this she showed ■ 
 
60 
 
 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 her sense, for nothing was safe that came within the reach of 
 Brunello's fingers; and, in fact, he was the very master thief 
 to whom the light-fingered fellow in Grimms' stories bound 
 himself apprentice. 
 
 They rode a long way over the windy passes, and from 
 height to height of the great chain of the Pyrenees, till they 
 mounted to the topmost ridge, from which they could see 
 the Bay of Biscay heaving with the great Atlantic swell on 
 their right, and the blue Mediterranean glittering in the 
 
 sunlight to their left. , 
 
 Thence they, followed 
 
 a rugged track which led them down the 
 
 southern side of the mountain range, and brought them at 
 
 length to the desolate valley in the midst of which rose the 
 
 steep mass of rock crowned with its enchanted castle of 
 
 shining steel. 
 
ADVENTURES OF BRADAMANTE. 61 
 
 Then Bradamante thought it was high time to get posses- 
 sion of the magic ring ; so she leaped upon Brunello as a 
 cat leaps on a mouse, and before he had time to think of 
 what was happening to him, she, had dragged him from his 
 saddle and tied his hands tight behind his back with a piece 
 of whipcord. But the generous damsel would not draw her 
 sword, as Melissa had bidden her, against an unarmed man ; 
 and even though she knew the hideous little dwarf to be 
 the most thorough-paced scoundrel unhung, still she took 
 shame to slay him when she saw him bound and helpless at 
 her feet. In this only did she disobey the instructions of 
 Melissa, and I am happy to say that her generosity brought 
 her no harm, though the world would certainly have been 
 grateful to her for making an end of so pestilent ^ a rascal. 
 However, she dared not leave him at liberty, or he would 
 certainly have revenged himself for the assault _ by working 
 the ruin of her enterprise ; so she bound him securely to a 
 great tree that grew near by the side of the path, and there 
 left him to shriek himself hoarse with abuse of her. But 
 first she took the precious ring which he wore and put it 
 upon her own finger, and with it went on confidently towards 
 the castle. 
 
 The four sides of the crag went sheer down from top to 
 bottom ; but in one of them the enchanter had cut a path- 
 way so narrow that only onB person could ride along it at a 
 time, and so steep that it needed a strong and sure-footed 
 ho-^se to clamber up it. With great difficulty Bradamante 
 goc her jennet ^ to make the ascent ; and she no sooner came 
 to the level platform at the top than she seized the horn that 
 hung by the castle gate, and blew a blast which made the 
 bright walls quiver and ring with, its echo. Her challenge 
 •' pes'ti-lent; evil ; harmful. ^ jen'net, a small Spanish horse. 
 
62 .rjT>lAlAA (FIFTH >^HEAI>ERi >; 
 
 was answered from within the castle, and immediately after- 
 wards Bradamante saw het en^mj shoo t^iu-pi into the air anft 
 wheel in great circles above her head., jciJOiii a no fc(|j;t>I jxio 
 The winged monster upon whicb lip i rode •■^aS/^call^ 
 Hippogrif, and was tlie only beast of its kind that was ever 
 seen 4 for itsf head and nedk ewerej:thoseiPl;«tl griffiOif ;^iid ^q 
 were its fore legs and feet, which were furnished with great 
 claws three inches long and as hard as the cui^ved instriir, 
 ment at the back of your knife for pulling a stone out( of:^ 
 horse's lQ6ti'-'ButL;ia" its hind: le^ lanid/ iii litsYbjbdyi itfiwa's 
 like a horse ; only frorii the shoulders grew! a pair : of 
 enormous wings, with feathers shaped like an iea^le'^^}; M^ 
 radiant with all the seven colors of the rainbcj^xYmrrrl on 'iod 
 i J The robber himself ; was! armed from head' toif oot M shin;' 
 ing steel, and carried a larice in his right hand, while the 
 wonderful shield was encased in a cover of purplle silk and 
 strapped to his left arm ; but in his left hand he (held an 
 opeii booky from which he read oUt spells and inQantations,'-* 
 while he guided the flight of ( th^lMippOgfif ;^imj^y(;by the 
 pressure of his knees. i >;=ni vk. .Ij >:.,ivt ^ :• ■ 
 
 r;r:And now Bradamante became aware of ;tb6 ep^)aprdinary 
 fact that this enchanter never really came near thi^ ;knights 
 with whom he fought ; but the spells tvhlch he kept reading 
 from his book made them believe that he iwaSjiliishing at 
 them through the air anddealing them sound kn^oeks with 
 hi^ lance, while really he , was soaring w^U put tpf, reach above 
 their heads and laughing in his sleeve at' the trouble he took 
 for nothing. This time, however, hie had' little reason to 
 laugh * for with the magic iing upon her finger Bradamante 
 saw through all his tricks, ;^tidimet]th^m; by, sup^rioar.cunf , 
 
 fy^nv griffin, A fabled monster, h'alf ^^U and half lion; ■ ■ ,7 :■ . iiff 
 •V^'in-oan-ta'tiona, iojstmk^ioi words for pj-odii^i;ig^^hftK^§^nts. ' 
 
ADVENTURES OF BRADAMANTE. 63 
 
 ning. She did not choose that he should find out too soon 
 that she possessed a talisman ^ against his spells, so she thrust 
 away at the empty air with her lance as though she saw an 
 enemy before her, and kept raising and lowering her shield 
 as if parrying the blows which he seemed to deal her. 
 
 For more than an "hour they kept up this game of sham 
 -fighting, and both of them thought it capital fun, though 
 the magician little dreamed where the point ^f the joke 
 really lay. But at kst he began to think that his fooling 
 had gone far enough, and that it was time to get to busi- 
 ness ; so he wheeled right up in front of Bradamante, and 
 ripping off the silken cover of his shield flashed its brilliant 
 surface in her eyes. Of course the noble damsel was not 
 a^bit dazzled at th^ sight, but she was not so simple as to 
 show her game to the enemy till she had got him well 
 within her grasp ; so she tumbled off her horse as if she had 
 been shot, and lay motionless and to all appearance senseless 
 on the^groundJo'^'^^s aJii:oiiii dniiiiirg axii Lis biic ,9l+ai5o edi 
 ^ Then with a laugh of triumph'the enchanter put back'^the 
 shield into its case, which he slung across his saddlebow, and 
 bringing the Hippogrif to the earth with a swoop he leaped 
 ^rts back and unwound an iron bhaiflt from 'his waist; for 
 Whenever he went out to fight he carried this chain in readi- 
 ■^ss to bind the knights whom the sight of his shield laid 
 sWooning at his feet. Giasping its links in both hands he 
 Berit over tftie prostrate maiden ; but this was just the oppor- 
 tunity for which Bradamante had been waiting, and spring- 
 ing up she seized the astonished magician in her arms, ja^d 
 threw him down without a struggle on the ground, v' ^'; I 
 ^^^Hfefe sh^ bound him firmly with his owh ehain, and un- 
 fetced-'hii^-hdltneir-tdf slay Mtn ;' btiiti what > wis IheriJBurprise 
 
64 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 when the helmet fell off and displayed no savage ruffian, as 
 she expected, but the wrinkled face and white hair of a 
 decrepit^ old man, who looked nearly eighty years old! 
 Thereat Bradamante put back her sword into its sheath and 
 gazed in speechless wonder at her captive, who cried, ^^ ith 
 tears in his eyes, " Slay me, slay me. Sir Knight, I entreat 
 you ; for you have broken my power, and life has become 
 hateful to me." But the generous damsel answered : " Nay, 
 for I have never slain a boy nor an old man, and I never will 
 be guilty of so vile a deed. But neither will I release you 
 from your chains till you have demolished this enchanted 
 castle and set at liberty all the knights and ladies whom you 
 hold in shameful captivity." 
 
 At this the old man uttered a cry of anguish and ex- 
 claimed: "Noble Sir Knight, have pity on me, and ask of 
 me any other service than this. In all else I am ready to 
 obey you ; and willingly will I set free all the ladies in 
 the castle, and all the gallant knights save one alone. But 
 suffer me to keep my castle and to guard from danger the 
 Courteous Prince Roger, for love of whom I have committed 
 all this fault. For I am the enchanter Atlas, who took him 
 as an orphan babe from his dead mother's breast, after she 
 had followed the King his father to the grave. All through 
 his boyhood I tended him as if he were my own son, and 
 when he grew to man's estate and approved liimself the 
 bravest knight in Africa, my heart rejoiced in his prowess 
 and renown. But, alas ! the stars have lately foretold to me 
 that he must die by treachery in a Christian land ; and when 
 I knew that I immediately built this castle, into which I 
 entrapped him for his safety; and all the other knights 
 and ladies I brought hither that he might spend his life 
 * de-crep'it, feeble fromiige. 
 
ADVENTURES OF BRADAMANTE. 65 
 
 ^ ^ /^ . . 
 
 joyously in worthy company. Suffer me, therefore, generous 
 Sir Knight, to keeo- him under my protection; or else kill 
 me without delay, for I would rather die than see him fall 
 into the calamities that await him." 
 
 But Bradamante answered him scornfully: " Methinks 
 you must be ill able to foretell the destinies of others who 
 have proved so poor a prophet of your own. Know that 
 high and glorious fortunes await the Prince Roger whom 
 you love, and you play the part of a bad friend to him in 
 keeping him secluded from the field of battle and fame. 
 Wherefore I command you to destroy the walls of this 
 castle, with the rock on which it stands ; for till you have 
 done this I will not release you from your captivity." 
 
 Poor Atlas was not at all convinced by her assurances, 
 but he saw that he was in her power and could not resist 
 her will ; so with a heavy heart he promised to do as she 
 commanded him. Then she loosed the chain from his arms, 
 but kept it still fastened round his body, and held the end 
 of it in her hand, for fear he should attempt to give her the 
 slip ; and Atlas went to the gate of the castle and lifted up 
 a great slab of marble, under which a large hole about the 
 size of an oven was disclosed in the foundation of hard rock. 
 From this hole he took out a long roll of parchment, covered 
 with written spells and all manner of cabalistic ^ signs and 
 figures, which he tore into a thousand pieces and scattered 
 to the four winds. 
 
 A second and yet a third he destroyed in the same way ; 
 but still the castle of steel remained unshaken, and Brada- 
 mante would have thought he was trying to play her a trick 
 if the ring had not told her th^it these parchment scrolls 
 really contained the spells by which the spirits of the air 
 . 1 cab-a-lis'tic, mystical ; occult. 
 
66 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 had been constrained to build and maintain the fortress. 
 But there was still a spirit imprisoned in the hole, and till 
 he was released the castle would remain as strong and im- 
 pregnable as ever. So when Atlas had torn up the three 
 parchments and scattered abroad their fragments, he 
 stooped down again over the hole and drew up a half- 
 gallon stone bottle sealed at the mouth with yellow sealing- 
 wax, on which was stamped the impression of Virgil's 
 magic signet-ring. 
 
 With a deep sigh the poor old man broke the seal and 
 drew out the cork from beneath it, when a thick column of 
 white vapor issued from the opening and took the form of a 
 beautiful youth with wings sprouting from his heels and the 
 winged cap of Mercury on his head, who flew up into the air 
 and was lost to sight on the neighboring mountains. Im- 
 mediately the enchanted castle and the rock on which it 
 stood were dissolved into a dense cloud of blue smoke ; and 
 when the smoke cleared away, Bradamante found that the 
 old magician too had disappeared, and she was left standing 
 in the middle of the valley with the knights and ladies whom 
 she had delivered, Roger among the others. Imagine if you 
 can the joy with which these noble lovers greeted each 
 other, and how hour after hour passed away like a few short 
 moments and left them still deep in conversation. 
 
 Translated and Adapted. 
 
THE NOSE AND THE EYES. 67 
 
 XI. THE NOSE AND THE EYES. 
 
 By William Cowper. 
 
 BETWEEN Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose ; 
 The spectacles set them, unhappily, wrong ; 
 The point in dispute was, as all the world knows, 
 To which the said spectacles ought to belong. 
 
 So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause, 
 With a great deal of skill and a wig full of learning, 
 
 While chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws, 
 So famed for his talent in nicely discerning. 
 
 '' In behalf of the Nose, it will quickly appear, 
 
 And your lordship," he said, '^ will undoubtedly find, 
 
 That the Nose has the spectacles always in wear. 
 Which amounts to possession, time out of mind." 
 
 Then, holding the spectacles up to the court, 
 
 " Your lordship observes they are made with a straddle 
 
 As wide as the ridge of the Nose is ; in short. 
 Designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle. 
 
 " Again, would your lordship a moment suppose 
 ('T is a case that has happened, and may be again) 
 
 That the visage or countenance had not a Nose, 
 
 Pray, who would, or who could, wear spectacles then? 
 
 " On the whole it appears, and my argument shows, 
 With a reasoning the court will never condemn, 
 
 That the spectacles, plainly, were made for the Nose, 
 And the Nose was, as plainly, intended for them." 
 
 ? 
 
68 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Then, shifting his side (as lawyers know how), 
 He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes : 
 
 But what were his arguments, few people know, 
 For the court did not think them equally wise. 
 
 So his lordship decreed, with a grave, solemn tone,' 
 Decisive and clear, without one if or but, 
 
 That whenever, the Nose put his spectacles on, 
 
 By daylight or candle-light, — Eyes should be shut. 
 
 XII. THE KING^OF THE GOLDEN RIVER; 
 
 or 
 
 THE BLACK BROTHERS. 
 
 By John Ruskin. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 IN a secluded and mountainous part of Styria ^ there was, 
 in old time, a valley of the most surprising and lux- 
 uriant ^ fgj^ilSi^'Qflt was surrounded on all sides by steep 
 and rocl^^ mountains, rising into peaks, which were alway 
 covered with snow, and from w^eh a number of ton 
 descended in constant cataracti^ One of these fell west- 
 ward over the face of a crag so high that when the sun had 
 set to everything else, and all below was darkness, his beams 
 still shone full upon this waterfall, so that it looked like a 
 shower of gold. It was, therefore, called by the people of 
 
 1 Styr'i-a, a grand duchy belonging to the Austria-Hungarian Empire, 
 located between Austria and Hungary. It is a mountainous country, 
 traversed by the Alps, and is rich in both farm products and minerals. 
 
 * lux-ul-i-ant, abundant. 
 
 i 
 
 iteep xj 
 ivays ^ 
 'ents y' 
 
THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 69 
 
 the neighborhood the Golden River. It was strange that 
 none of these streams fell into the valley itself. Thby all 
 descended on the other I side of the mountgjyi^ and wound 
 away through broad plains and by popuJi>iis cities. But the 
 clouds were drawn so constantly to the snowy hills that in 
 time of drp^^^d heat^^whpn all the country round was 
 burnt up, there was still rain in the little^ valley ; and its , 
 crops were so heavy, and its hay so higjp^nd its apples so 
 red, and its grapes so blue, and it^^ine so rich, and its 
 honey so sweet, that it was a marve JEo every one who beheld 
 it, and was commonly called the Treasure Valley. 
 
 The whole of this little valley belonged to three brothers 
 called Schwg^tz, Hans, and Gluck. Schwartz and Hans, the 
 . two elder^jrothers, were very ugly men, with overhanging 
 eyebrows and small dull eyes, which were always half shut, 
 so. that you couldn't see into tliem^ and always fancied that 
 they were very far into 'you. They lived by farming the 
 Treasure Valley, and very good farmers they were. 
 
 They killed everything that did not pay for its eating. 
 They shot the blackbirds because they pecked the fruit, 
 and killed the hedgehogs lest they should suck the cows : 
 they poisoned the crickets for eatingjbhe crumbs in the - 
 kitchen, and smothered the cicadaV which used to sing all 
 summer in the lime trees. They worked their servants 
 without any wages till they would not work any more, and 
 then quarreled with them, and turned them out of doors 
 without paying them/ It would h^ve been very odd if with 
 such a farm and sucC a systemof farniing they hadn't got 
 very rich; and very rich they did get. They generally Gon^^^ 
 ^jtA^trived to keep their own corn by them until it was very dear, 
 aad then -sell it for twice its value ; jbhey had heaps of gold 
 
 >u<^i^>-y. 
 
^^ 
 
 70 A FIFTH READER. ^ 
 
 lying about on their floors, yet it was never known that rfey 
 had given, so much as a penny or a crust in charity ;'nhey 
 never went to mass ; grumbled perpetually at paying tithes ; T 
 and were, .in a wwdTof so cruel and grinding a temper as to 
 receive from all those with whom they had any dealings the 
 nickname of the " Black Brothers." o 
 
 The youngest brather, Gluck, was as completely opposed, Ml 
 in both appearance and character, to his seniors as could pos- 
 sibly be imagined or desired. He was not above twelve 
 years old, fair, blue-eyed, and kind in temper to every living 
 thing. He did not, of course, agree particulaj^well with 
 his brothers ; or, rather, they did not agree with him. He 
 was usually appointed to the honorable office of turnspit, \ 
 — when there was anything to roast, which was not often ; 
 for, to do the brothers justice, they were hardly less spatrii^g 
 upon themselves than u'ponother people. At other times he 
 used to clean the shoes, floors, and sometimes the plates, — 
 occaglpnally.iigetting what was left upon them by way of 
 encouragement, and a wholesome quantity of dry blows by- 
 way of education. 
 
 Things went oif in this manner for a long time. At last 
 came a very wet summer, and everything went wrong in the 
 country around. The hay had hardly been got in when the 
 haystacks were floated bodily down to the sea by an inunda- 
 tion ; ^ the vines were cut to pieces by the hail ; the corn 
 was all killed by a black blight ; onlyin the Treasure Valley, 
 as usual, all was safe. As it had rain when there was rain 
 nowhere else, so it had sun when there was sun nowhere 
 else. Everybody came to buy corn at the farm, and went 
 away pouring maledictions on the Black Brothers. They 
 asked what they liked and got it, except from the poor 
 ^ in-un-da'tion, flood. 
 
^l 
 
 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 71 
 
 people, who could only beg, and several of whom were 
 starved at their very door without the slightest regard or 
 notice. 
 
 It was drawing towards winter, and very cold weather, 
 when one day the two elder brothers had gone out, with their 
 usual warning to little Gluck, who was left to mind the 
 roast, that he was to let nobody in and give nothing out. 
 Gluck sat down quite close to the fire, for it was raining very 
 hard, and the kitchen walls were by no means dry or com- 
 fortable-looking. He turned and turned, and the roast got 
 nice and brown. " What a pity," thought Gluck, " my 
 brothers never ask anybody to dinner ! I 'm sure when 
 they 've got such a nice piece of mutton as this, and nobody 
 else has got so much as a dry piece of bread, it would do 
 their hearts good to have somebody to eat it with them." 
 
 Just as he spoke there came a double knock at the house 
 do^,^et heavy and dull, as though the knocker had been 
 tied up, — more like a puff than a knock. 
 
 " It must be the wind," said Gluck ; " nobody else would 
 venture to knock double knocks at our door." 
 OWo^ it was n't the wind ; there it came again very hard, 
 and what was part^ularly astounding,^ the knocker seemed 
 to be in a hurry, and not to be in the least afraid of tlie_can- 
 equences,_jGrluck went to the window, opened it, and puf^ 
 his head out to see who it was.. 
 
 It was the most extraordinary ^ looking gentleman he had 
 
 ever seen in his life^^ HeTiad a very large nose, slightly 
 
 brass-colored ; his cheeks were very round and very red, and 
 
 might have warrante d a supposition ^ that he had been blow- 
 .^MHi/vv. — — 
 
 ^ as-tound'ing, very surprising. 
 
 '^ ex-traor^di-na-ry, unusual ; strange. 
 
 ^ sup-po-si'tion, guess. 
 
72 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 ing a refractory ^ fire fot the last eight^and-forty hours ; his 
 eyes twinkled merrily through long silky eyelashes, his mus- 
 taches curled twice round like a corkscrew on each side of 
 his mouth, and his hair, of a curious mixed pepper-and-salt 
 color, descended far over his shoulders. He was about four 
 feet six in heig'h^^j.^id wore a conical pointed cap of nearly 
 
 the same altitude, decorated with a black feather some 
 three feet high. H is dou blet^ was^^DmJgjj^d behind into 
 something reseifflSlmg a violeBL exaggeration ^ of what is 
 
 now termed a " swallojs*' mil, Hbut was much obscuredby 
 the swelling folds oi an enOTmimsblack, glossy-looking 
 cloak, which must have been veiy miich too long in calm 
 weather, as the wind, whistling round the old house, carried 
 it clear out from the wearer's shoulders to about four times 
 his own length. 
 
 Gluck was so perfectly paralyzed * by the singular appear- 
 ance of his visitor that he remained fixed without uttering • 
 a word, until thaoWgentleman, having performed aWtner; Q 
 and a more ^/^ frei^ge ti^ conc^itQ ^- on the knocker, turned 
 round to look after his fly-away cloak. In so doing he 
 caught sight of Gluck's little yellow head jammed in the 
 window, with its mouth and eyes very wide open indeed. 
 
 " Hello I " said the little gentleman, " that 's not the way 
 to answer the door: I 'm wet, let "gJ^;" 
 
 To do the little gentleman jutsft^ he was wet. His 
 feather hung down between his legs like a beaten puppy's 
 tail, .dripping like an umbrella; and from the euds of his 
 
 1 re-frac'to-ry, difficult to manage: 
 
 2 doublet, a coat. 
 
 « ex-ag-ger-a'tion, enlargement ; making more. 
 
 * par'a lyzed, made weak or helpless. 
 
 * con-cer'tb, a sort of tune. 
 
THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 73 
 
 mustaches the water was running into his waistcoat 
 pockets, and out again like a mill stream. 
 
 " I beg pardon, sir ! " said Gluck. " Pm very sorry, but I 
 really can't." 
 
 " Can't what ? " said the old gentleman. 
 
 " I can't let you in, sir, — I can't indeed ; my brothers 
 would beat me to death, sir, if I thought of such a thing. 
 What do you want, sir ? " 
 
 " Want ? " sa^^he old gentleman, petulantly.^ " I want 
 fire and sh^er ; and there 's your great fire there blazing, 
 crackling, and dancing on the walls, with nobody to feel it. 
 Let me in, I say ; I only want to warm mysslf." 
 
 Gluck had had his head, by this time, so long out of the 
 window, that he began to feel that it was really unpleas- 
 antly cold, and when he turned and saw the beautiful fire 
 rustling and roaring and throwing long bright tongues by^ 
 the chimney, as if it were licking its chops at the_BaS^j^^^ 
 smell of the leg of mutton, his heart melted within him that 
 it should be burning away for nothing. " He does look 
 very wet," said little Gluck ; " I '11 just let him in for a 
 quarter of an hour." Round he went .to the door and 
 opened it; and as the little gentleman walked in, there 
 came a gust of ^ind through the house that made the old 
 chimneys tS^rT 
 
 " That 's a good boy," said the little gentleman. " Never 
 mind your brothers. - I'll talk to them." 
 _ "Pray^ sir, don't do any ^uch thing," said Gluck. "I 
 can't let you stay till they come ; they 'd be the death of 
 me." 
 
 " Dear me," said the old gentleman, " I 'm very sorry to 
 hear that. How long may I stay ? " 
 
 ^ pet'u-Iant-ly, crossly. ' 
 
74 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 *' Only till the mutton 's done, sir," replied Gluck, " and 
 it 's very brown." 
 
 The old gentleman walked into the kitchen, and sat him- 
 self down on the hob,^ with the top of his cap acS^^rfl'oclated 
 up the chimney, for it was a great deal too high for the 
 roof^^L-- 
 
 " You '11 soon dry there, sir," said Gluck, and sat down 
 again to turn the mutton. But the old gentleman did not 
 dry there, but went on drip, drip, dripping among the cin- 
 ders, and the fire fizzed, and sputtered, and began to look 
 very black and uncomfortable ; never was such a cloak ; 
 every fold in it ran like a gutter. 
 
 " I beg pardon, sir," said Gluck, at length, after watch- 
 ing the water spreading in long quicksilver-like streams 
 over the floor for a quarter of an hour ; " may n't I take 
 your cloak?" 
 
 " No, thank you," said the old gentleman. 
 
 " Your cap, sir ? " 
 
 " I am all right, thank you," said the old gentleman, 
 rather gruffly. 
 
 *' But — sir — I 'm very sorry," said Gluck, hesitatingly, 
 "but — really, sir — you 're — putting the fire out." 
 
 " It '11 take longer to do the mutton, then," replied his 
 visitor, dryly. 
 
 Gluck was very much puzzled by the behavior of Jiis 
 guest, it was such a strange mixture of coolness and humil- 
 ity. He turned away at the string meditatively ^ for another 
 five minutes. 
 
 " That mutton looks very nice," said the old gentleman. 
 " Can't you give me a little bit?" 
 
 1 hob, a shelf by the side of the fire on which things were put to 
 keep them warm. ^ med'i-ta-tive-ly, thoughtfully. 
 
THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 76 
 
 " Impossible, sir," said Gluck. 
 
 " I 'm very hungry," continued the old gentleman. " I Ve 
 had nothing to eat yesterday nor to-day. They surely 
 'tJ^ftrfd'^^t^'HKiss a bit from the knuckle ! " 
 
 He spoke in so very melancholy a"tOne that it quite 
 melted Gluck's heart. " They promised me one slice 
 to-day, sir," said he ; "I can give you that, but not a bit 
 more." 
 
 '' That 's a good boy," said the old gentleman again. 
 
 Then Gluck warmed a plate and sharpened a knife. '' I 
 do n't care if I do get beaten for it," thought he. Just as he 
 had cut a large slice out of the mutton there came a tre- 
 mendous rap at the door. The old gentleman jumped off 
 the hob, as if it had suddenly become inconveniently warm. 
 Gluck fitted the slice into the mutton again, with desperate 
 efforts at exactitude,^ and ran to open the door. 
 
 " What did you keep us waiting in the rain for ? " said 
 Schwartz, as he walked in, throwing his umbrella in Gluck's 
 face. "Ay! what for indeed, you little vagabond?" said 
 Hans, administering an educational blow on the ear as he 
 followed his brother into the kitchen. 
 
 " Bless my soul ! " said Schwartz, when he opened the 
 door. 
 
 " Amen ! " said the little gentleman, who had taken his cap 
 off, and was standing in the middle of the kitchen, bowing 
 with the utmost possible velocity .2 
 
 " Who 's that ? " said Schwartz, catching up a rolling-pin, 
 and turning to Gluck- with a fierce frown. 
 
 " I do n't know, indeed, brother," said Gluck, in great 
 terror. 
 
 " How did he get in ? " roared Schwartz. 
 
 ^ eac-act'i-tude, exactness; correctness. * ve-loc'i-ty, swiftness. 
 
76 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 " My dear brother,'* said Gluck, deprecatingly,^ " he was 
 so very wet ! " 
 
 The rolling-pin was descending on Gluck's head ; but, at 
 the instant, the old gentleman interposed 2 his conical cap, 
 on which it crashed with a shock that shook the water out 
 of it all over the room. What was very odd, the rolling- 
 pin no sooner touched the cap than it flew out of Schwartz's 
 hand, spinning like a straw in a high wind, and fell into the 
 corner at the farther end of the room. 
 
 " Who are you, sir ? " demanded Schwartz, turning upon 
 him. 
 
 " What 's your business ? " snarled Hans. 
 
 " I 'm a poor old man, sir," the little gentleman began 
 very modestly, " and I saw your fire through the window, 
 and begged shelter for a quarter of an hour." 
 
 " Have the goodness to walk out again, then," said 
 Schwartz. " We 've quite enough water in our kitchen, 
 without making it a drying-house." 
 
 " It is a cold day to turn an old man out in, sir ; look at 
 my gray hairs ! " They hung down to his shoulders, as I 
 told you before. 
 
 " Ay ! " said Hans, " there are enough of them to keep 
 you warm. Walk ! " 
 
 " I 'm very, very hungry, sir ; could n't you spare me a 
 bit of bread before I go ? " 
 
 " Bread, indeed ! " said Schwartz. " Do you suppose 
 wo 've nothing to do with our bread but to give it to such 
 red-nosed fellows as you ? " 
 
 " Why do n't you sell your feather ? " said Hans, sneer- 
 ingly. " Out with you I " 
 
 ^ depre-ca-ting-ly, in a pleading way. 
 • • • 2 m-ter-posedVpatbetweeu-. 
 
THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 77 
 
 " A little bit," said the old gentleman. 
 
 " Be ofP!" said Schwartz. 
 
 " Pray, gentlemen ! " 
 
 " Off and be hanged ! " cried Hans, seizing him by the 
 collar. But he had no sooner touched the old gentleman's 
 collar than away he went after the rolling-pin, spinning 
 round and round till he fell in the corner on top of it. 
 Then Schwartz was very angry, and ran at the old gentle- 
 man to turn him out ; but he also had hardly touched him, 
 when away he went after Hans and the rolling-pin, and hit 
 his head against the wall as he tumbled into the corner. 
 And so there they lay, all three. 
 
 Then the old gentleman spun himself round with velocity 
 in the opposite direction, continued to spin until his long 
 cloak was all wound neatly about him, clapped his cap on 
 his head, very much on one side (for it could not stand 
 upright without going through the ceiling), gave an addi- 
 tional twist to his corkscrew mustaches, and replied with 
 perfect coolness : " Gentlemen, I wish you a very good 
 morning. At twelve o'clock to-night I '11 call again ; after 
 such a refusal of hospitality as I have just experienced, 
 you will not be surprised if that visit is the last I ever 
 pay you/' 
 
 " If I ever catch you here again," muttered Schwartz, 
 coming half frightened out of the corner — but before be 
 could finish his sentence the old gentleman had shut the 
 house door behind him with a great bang ; and there drove 
 past the window at the same instant a wreath of ragged 
 cloud that whirled and rolled away down the valley in all 
 manner of shapes, turning over and over in the air, and 
 melting away at last in a gush of rain. 
 
 " A very pretty business, indeed, Mr. Gluck ! " said 
 
78 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Schwartz. " Dish the mutton, sir ! If ever I catch you 
 at such a trick again — bless me, why, the mutton 's 
 been cut ! " 
 
 "You promised me one slice, brother, you know," said 
 Gluck. 
 
 " Oh ! and you were cutting it hot, I suppose, and going 
 to catch all the gravy. It '11 be long before I promise you 
 such a thing again. Leave the room, sir, and have the 
 kindness to wait in the coal cellar till I call you ! " 
 
 Gluck left the room melancholy enough. The brothers 
 ate as much as they could, locked the rest in the cupboard, 
 and proceeded to get very drunk after dinner. 
 
 Such a night as it was I Howling wind and rushing 
 rain without intermission ! The brothers had just sense 
 enough left to put up all the shutters and double-bar 
 the door before they went to bed. They usually slept 
 in the same room. As the clock struck twelve they 
 were both awakened by a tremendous crash. Their door 
 broke open with a violence that shook the house from 
 top to bottom. 
 
 " What 's that ? " cried Schwartz, stai*ting up in his bed. 
 
 " Only I," said the little gentleman. 
 
 The two brothers sat up on their bolsters and stared into 
 the darkness. The room was full of water, and by the 
 misty moonbeam which found its way through a hole 
 in the shutter they could see in the midst of it an immense 
 foam globe, spinning round and bobbing up and down like 
 a cork, on which, as on a most luxurious cushion, reclined 
 the little old gentleman, cap and all. There was plenty of 
 room for it now, for the roof was off. 
 
 "Sorry to incommode^ you," said their visitor, iron- 
 1 in-com-mode', to cause inconvenience. 
 
THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 
 
 79 
 
 ically.^ " I 'm afraid your beds are dampish ; perhaps you 
 had better go to your brother's room ; I 've left the ceiling 
 on there." 
 
 They required no second admonition,^ but rushed into 
 Gluck's room, wet through, and in an agony of terror. 
 
 " You '11 find my card on the kitchen table," the old 
 gentleman called after them. " Remember, the last visit ! " 
 
 "Pray Heaven it may!" said Schwartz, shuddering. 
 And the foam globe disappeared. 
 
 Dawn came at last, and the two brothers looked out of 
 Gluck's little window in the morning. The Treasure Valley 
 was one mass of ruin and desolation. The inundation had 
 swept away trees, crops, and cattle, and left in their stead a 
 waste of red sand and gray mud. The two brothers crept 
 shivering and horror-struck into the kitchen. The water 
 had gutted the whole first floor ; corn, money, almost every 
 movable thing had been swept away, and there was left 
 only a small white card on the kitchen table. On it, in 
 large, breezy, long-legged letters, were engraved the words ; 
 
 ^ i-ron'ic-al-ly, so as to make fun of, by saying one thing and 
 meaning another. 
 
 2 ad-mo-ni'tion, adviac. 
 
80 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 SOUTHWEST WIND, Esquire, was as good as his 
 word. After the momentous ^ visit above related he 
 entered the Treasure Valley no more ; and what was worse, 
 he had so much influence with his relations, the West 
 Winds in general, and used it so effectually ,2 that they all 
 adopted a similar line of conduct. So no rain fell in the 
 valley from one year's end to another. Though everything 
 remained green and flourishing in the plains below, the 
 inheritance of the three brothers was a desert. What had 
 once been the richest soil in the kingdom, became a shifting 
 heap of red. sand ; and the brothers, unable longer to con- 
 tend with the adverse skies, abandoned their valueless 
 patrimony 3 in despair, to seek some means of gaining a 
 livelihood among the cities and people of the plains. All 
 their money was gone, and they had nothing left but some 
 curious old-fashioned pieces of gold plate, the last remnants 
 of their ill-gotten wealth. 
 
 " Suppose we turn goldsmiths ? " said Schwartz to Hans, 
 as they entered the large city. " It is a good knave's trade ; 
 we can put a great deal of copper into the gold without any 
 one's finding it out." 
 
 The thought was agreed to be a very good one ; they 
 hired a furnace, and turned goldsmiths. But two slight cir- 
 cumstances affected their trade : the first, that people did 
 not approve of the coppered gold ; the second, that the two 
 elder brothers, whenever they sold anything, used to leave 
 little Gluck to mind the furnace, and go and drink out the 
 
 1 mo-men'tous, very important. 
 
 2 ef-fect'u-al-ly, with effect ; well. 
 
 * pat'ri-mo-ny, an inherited estate. 
 
THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 81 
 
 money in the ale-house next door. So they melted all their 
 gold without making money enough to buy more, and were 
 at last reduced to one large drinking-mug which an uncle of 
 his had given to little Gluck, and which he was fond of and 
 would not have parted with for the world, though he never 
 drank anything out of it but milk and water. The mug 
 was a very old mug to look at. The 
 handle was formed of two wreaths 
 of flowing golden hair, so finely spun 
 that it looked more like silk than 
 metal, and these wreaths descended 
 into, and mixed with, a beard of 
 whiskers of the same exquisite w^ork- 
 manship, which surrounded and 
 decorated a very fierce little face of 
 the reddest gold imaginable, right in 
 the front of the mug, with a pair of eyes in it which seemed 
 to command its whole circumference.^ It was impossible 
 to drink out of the mug without being subjected to an in- 
 tense gaze out of the side of these eyes ; and Schwartz 
 positively averred ^ that once, after emptying it, full of 
 Rhenish, seventeen times, he had seen them wink ! When 
 it came to the mug's turn to be made into spoons it half 
 broke poor little Gluck's heart, but the brothers only 
 laughed at him, tossed the mug into the melting pot, and 
 staggered out to the alehouse, leaving him, as usual, to pour 
 the gold into bars when it was ready. 
 
 When they were gone, Gluck took a farewell look at his 
 old friend in the melting pot. The flowing hair was all 
 gone ; nothing remained but the red nose and the sparkling 
 
 ^ cir-cum'fer-ence, the outside ; that which surrounds. 
 ' a-verred', said. 
 7 — 5r 
 
82 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 eyes, which looked more malicious ^ than ever. " Andr no 
 wonder," thought Gluck, " after being treated in that way." 
 He sauntered disconsolately to the window and sat himself 
 down, to catch the fresh evening air and escape the hot 
 breath of the furnace. Now tliis window commanded a 
 direct" view of the range of mountains which, as I told you 
 before, overhung the Treasure Valley, and more especially 
 of the peak from which fell the Golden River. It was just 
 at the close of the day, and when Gluck sat down at the. win- 
 dow he saw the rocks of the mountain tops all crimson and 
 purple with the sunset, and there were bright tongues of 
 fiery cloud burning and quivering about them ; and the 
 river, brighter than all, fell in a waving column of pure 
 gold from precipice to precipice, with the double arch of a 
 broad purple rainbow stretched across it, flushing and fading 
 alternately ^ in the wreaths of spray. 
 
 "Ah ! " said Gluck, aloud, after he had looked at it for a 
 while, " if that river were really all gold, what a nice thing 
 it would be ! " 
 
 " No, it would n't, Gluck," said a clear, metallic voice 
 close at his ear. 
 
 " Bless me ! what 's that ? " exclaimed Gluck, jumping up. 
 There was nobody there. He looked round the room and 
 under the table and a great many times behind him, but 
 there was certainly nobody there, and he sat down again at 
 the window. This time he did n't speak, but he could n't 
 help thinking again that it would be very convenient if the 
 river were really all gold. 
 
 " Not at all, my boy," said the voice, louder than before. 
 
 "Bless me!" said Gluck again, "what is that?" He 
 looked again into all the corners and cupboards, and then 
 
 1 ma-li'cious, wicked ; wanting to injure. ^ al-ter'nate-ly, in turn. 
 
THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 83 
 
 began turning round and round as fast as he could in the 
 middle of the room, thinking that there was somebody be- 
 hind him, when the same voice struck again on his ear. It 
 was singing now, very merrily, " Lala-lira-la ; " no words, 
 only a soft, running, effervescent^ melody, something like 
 that of a kettle on the boil. Gluck looked out of the win- 
 dow. No, it was certainly in the house. Upstairs and 
 downstairs. No, it was certainly in that very room, coming 
 in quicker time and clearer notes every moment. " Lala- 
 lira-la." All at once it struck Gluck that it sounded nearer 
 the furnace. He ran to the opening, and looked in ; yes, he 
 saw right, — it seemed to be coming, not only out of the fur- 
 nace but out of the pot. He uncovered it and ran back in 
 a great fright, for the pot was certainly singing ! He stood 
 in the farthest corner of the room with his hands up and his 
 mouth open for a minute or two, when the singing stopped 
 and the voice became clear and pronunciative.^ 
 
 " Hollo ! " said the voice. 
 
 Gluck made no answer. 
 
 " Hollo, Gluck, my boy ! " said the pot again. 
 
 Gluck summoned all his energies, walked straight up to 
 the crucible,^ drew it out of the furnace, and looked in. 
 The gold was all melted, and its surface was as smooth and 
 polished as a river ; but instead of reflecting little Gluck's 
 head as he looked in, he saw meeting his glance from be- 
 neath the gold the red nose and sharp eyes of his old friend 
 of the mug, a thousand times redder and sharper than ever 
 he had seen them in his life. 
 
 " Come, Gluck, my boy," said the voice out of the pot 
 again, " I 'm all right ; pour me out ! " 
 
 ^ ef-fer-ves'cent, bubbling. 2 pro-nun'ci-a-tive, distinct. 
 
 * cru'ci-bie, melting pot. 
 
84 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 But Gluck was too much astonished to do anything of 
 the kind. 
 
 " Pour me out, I say ! " said the voice, rather gruffly. 
 
 Still Gluck could n't move. 
 
 " Will you pour me out ? " said the voice, passionately. 
 " I 'm too hot." 
 
 By a violent effort, Gluck recovered the use of his limbs, 
 took hold of the crucible and sloped it, so as to pour out the 
 gold. But instead of a liquid stream there came out first 
 a pair of little yellow legs, then some coat-tails, then a pair 
 of arms stuck akimbo,^ and finally the well-known head of 
 his friend the mug ; all which articles, uniting as they rolled 
 out, stood up energetically on the floor in the shape of a 
 little golden dwarf about a foot and a half high. 
 
 " That 's rigiit ! " said the dwarf, stretching out first his 
 legs and th^n his arms, and then shaking his head up and 
 down, and as far round as it would go, for five minutes with- 
 out stopping ; apparently with the view of ascertaining ^ if 
 he were quite correctly put together, while Gluck stood con- 
 templating 3 him in speechless amazement. He was dressed 
 in a slashed doublet of spun gold, so fine in its texture that 
 the prismatic * colors gleamed over it as if on a surface of 
 mother-of-pearl; and over this brilliaht doublet his hair 
 and beard fell full half-way to the ground in waving curls 
 so exquisitely delicate that Gluck could hardly tell where 
 they ended ; they seemed to melt into air. The features of 
 the face, however, .were by no means finished with the same 
 delicacy ; they were rather coarse, slightly inclining to cop- 
 
 ^ arms a-kim'bo, with hands on the hips. 
 2 as-cer-tain'ing, finding out. 
 
 * con'tem-pla-ting, considering ; looking at. 
 
 * pris-matlc, made by a prism ; like the rainbow. 
 
THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 85 
 
 pery in complexion, and indicative, in expression, of a very 
 pertinacious ^ and intractable ^ disposition in their small pro- 
 prietor. When the dwarf had finished his self-examination, 
 he fixed his small sharp eyes full on Gluck, and stared at 
 him deliberately ^ for a minute or two. 
 
 " No, it would n't, Gluck, my boy," said the little man. 
 
 This was certainly rather an abrupt and unconnected 
 mode of commencing conversation. It might indeed be sup- 
 posed to refer to the course of Gluck's thoughts, which had 
 first produced the dwarf's observation out of the pot ; but 
 whatever it referred to, Gluck had no inclination to dispute 
 the dictum.* 
 
 " Would n't it, sir ? " said Gluck, very mildly and submis- 
 sively indeed. 
 
 " No," said the dwarf, conclusively ; ^ " no, it would n't." 
 And with that the dwarf pulled his cap hard over his eyes, 
 and took two turns, of three feet long, up and down the 
 room, lifting his legs very high and setting them down very 
 hard. This pause gave time for Gluck to collect his thoughts 
 a little, and seeing no great reason to view his diminutive 
 visitor with dread, and feeling his curiosity overcome his 
 great amazement, he ventured on a question of peculiar 
 delicacy. 
 
 " Pray, sir," said Gluck, rather hesitatingly, " were you 
 my mug ? " 
 
 On which the little man turned sharp round, walked 
 straight up to Gluck, and drew himself up to his full height. 
 '' I," said the little man, " am the King of the Golden River." 
 
 ^ per-ti-na'cious(shus), persistent. 
 
 2 in-tract'a-ble, hard to manage. 
 
 2 de-lib'er-ate-ly, thoughtfully ; slowly. 
 
 * dic'tum, word ; what had been said. 
 
 fi con-clu'sive-ly, as if it ended the matter. 
 
86 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Whereupon he turned about again and took two more 
 turns, some six feet long, in order to allow time for the 
 consternation 1 which this announcement produced in his 
 auditor to evaporate .^ After which he again walked up to 
 Gluck and stood still, as if expecting some comment on his 
 communication. 
 
 Gluck determined to say something, at all events. " I 
 hope your Majesty is very well ! " said Gluck. 
 
 " Listen ! " said the little man, without deigning to reply 
 to this polite inquiry. " I am the King of what you mortals 
 call the Golden River. The shape you saw me in was 
 owing to the malice of a stronger king, from whose enchant- 
 ments you have this instant freed me. What I have seen of 
 you, and your conduct to your wicked brothers, renders me 
 willing to serve you ; therefore, attend to what I tell you ! 
 Whoever shall climb to the top of the mountain from which 
 you see the Golden River issue, and shall cast into the 
 stream at its source three drops of holy water, for him, and 
 for him only, the river shall turn to gold. But no one, 
 failing in his first, can succeed in a second attempt ; and if 
 any one shall cast unholy water into the river, it will over- 
 whelm him, and he will become a black stone." 
 
 So saying, the King of the Golden River turned away 
 and deliberately walked into the hottest flame of the fur- 
 nace. His figure became red, white, transparent, dazzling, — 
 a blaze of intense light, — rose, trembled, and disappeared. 
 The King of the Golden River had evaporated. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried poor Gluck, running to look up the chimney 
 after him. " Oh, dear, dear, dear me ! My mug ! my mug ! 
 my mug ! " 
 
 1 con-ster-na'tion, terror; ,friglit. 
 
 2 e-vap'o-rate, literally, to disappear in vapor; to pass away. 
 
THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 
 
 87 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 
 
 ,T 
 
 ^HE King of 
 the Golden 
 'fiXJk^ River had hard- 
 ly made the ex- 
 j W ^ traordinary exit ^ 
 [iM related in the last 
 chapter, before 
 Schwartz and Hans 
 imi H \ came roaring into 
 ■ J "-^ "" the house, very sav- 
 agely drunk. The disco v- 
 jU'ery of the total loss of their last piece 
 of plate had the effect of sobering them 
 just enough to enable them to stand over 
 Gluck beating him very steadily for half an hour ; at the 
 expiration 2 of which period they dropped into a couple of 
 chairs and requested to know what he had to say for him- 
 ^ ex'it, going out 2 ex-pi-ra'tion, end. 
 
88 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 self. Gluck told them his story, of which, of course, they 
 did not believe a word. They beat him again till their arms 
 were tired, and then staggered to bed. In the morning, 
 however, the steadiness with which he adhered ^ to his story 
 obtained for him some degree of credence ; ^ the immediate 
 consequence of which was that the two brothers, after 
 wrangling a long time on the knotty question which of 
 them should try his fortune first, drew their swords and 
 began fighting. The noise of the fray alarmed the neigh- 
 bors, who, finding that they could not pacify the com- 
 batants, sent for the constable. 
 
 Hans, on hearing this, contrived to escape, and hid him- 
 self ; but Schwartz was taken before the magistrate, fined for 
 breaking the peace, and, having drunk out his last penny 
 the evening before, was thrown into prison till he should 
 pay. 
 
 When Hans heard this he was much delighted, and 
 determined to set out immediately for the Golden River. 
 How to get the holy water was the question. He went to 
 the priest, but the priest could not give holy water to so 
 abandoned a creature. So Hans went to vespers in the 
 evening for the first time in his life, and, under pretense 
 of crossing himself, stole a cupful and returned home in 
 triumph. 
 
 Next morning he got up before the sun rose, put the holy 
 water into a strong flask, and two bottles of wine and some 
 meat in a basket, slung them over his back, took his alpine 
 staff 3 in his hand, and set off for the mountains. 
 
 On his way out of town he had to pass the prison, and 
 as he looked in at the windows, whom should he see but 
 
 ^ ad-hercd', stuck to. ^ ore'denoe, belief. 
 
 8 alpine steifF, a stout stick or cane such as is used in cjimbing the Alps. 
 
THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 89 
 
 Schwartz himself peeping out of the bars and looking very 
 disconsolate ! 
 
 "Good morning, brother," said Hans. "Have you any 
 message for the King of the Golden River ? " 
 
 Schwartz gnashed his teeth with rage, and shook the bars 
 with all his strength; but Hans only laughed at him, 
 and, advising him to make himself comfortable till he came 
 back again, shouldered his basket, shook the bottle of holy 
 water in Schwartz's face till it frothed again, and marched 
 off in the highest spirits in the world. 
 
 It was, indeed, a morning that might have made any one 
 happy, even with no Golden River to seek for. Level lines 
 of dewy mist lay stretched along the valley, out of which 
 rose the massy mountains, — their lower cliffs in pale gray 
 shadow hardly distinguishable from the floating vapor, 
 but gradually ascending till they caught the sunlight, 
 which ran in sharp touches of ruddy color along the an 
 gular crags, and pierced, in long level rays, through their 
 fringes of spear-like pine. Far above shot up red splintered 
 masses of castellated^ rocks, jagged and shivered into 
 myriads ^ of fantastic forms, with here and there a streak of 
 sunlit snow traced down their chasms like a line of forked 
 lightning; and far beyond and far above all these, fainter 
 than the morning cloud, but purer and changeless, slept, in 
 the blue sky, the utmost peaks of the eternal snow. 
 
 The Golden River, which sprang from one of the lower 
 and snowless elevations, was now nearly in shadow ; all but 
 the uppermost jets of spray, which rose like slow smoke 
 above the undulating ^ line of the cataract, and floated away 
 in feeble wreaths upon the morning wind. 
 
 * cas'tel-Ia-ted, like a castle. ^ myr'i-ads, many thousands. 
 
 ^ un'du-lat-ing, waving. 
 
90 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 On this object, and on this alone, Hans's eyes and thoughts 
 were fixed ; forgetting the distance he had to traverse, he 
 set off at an imprudent rate of walking, which greatly 
 exhausted him before he had scaled the first range of 
 the green and low hills. He was, moreover, surprised on 
 surmounting them to find that a large glacier,^ of whose 
 existence, notwithstanding his previous knowledge of the 
 mountains, he had been absolutely ignorant, lay between 
 him and the source of the Golden River. He entered 
 on it with the boldness of a practiced mountaineer; yet 
 he thought he had never traversed so strange or so danger- 
 ous a glacier in his life. 
 
 The ice was excessively ^ slippery, and out of all its 
 chasms came wild sounds of gushing water; not monoto- 
 nous^ or low, but changeful and loud, rising occasionally 
 into drifting passages of wild melody, then breaking off 
 into short, melancholy tones, or sudden shrieks, resembling 
 those of human voices in distress or pain. The ice was 
 broken into thousands of confused shapes, but none, Hans 
 thought, like the ordinaiy forms of splintered ice. There 
 seemed a curious expression about their outlines, — a per- 
 petual * resemblance to living features, distorted and scorn- 
 ful. Myriads of deceitful shadows and lurid ^ lights played 
 
 1 gla'cier, a river of floating. ice. Glaciers are found at the foot of 
 mountains so high that the snow never melts from their tops. The 
 great masses of snow push down bodies of ice to the foot of the moun- 
 tains and out into the valleys. These move very slowly, and carry 
 along 'With them great quantities of earth and rocks. They are most 
 beautiful to behold. The greatest glaciers are found in the Al,ps 
 Mountains, in Europe, and, in North America, among the Rocky Moun- 
 tains in Ala.ska and British Columbia. 
 
 ^ ex-cess'ive-ly, very. '^ lu'rid, ghastly pale. 
 
 8 mo-not'o-nou8, on the same note ; tedious. 
 
 * per-pet'u-al, never ending. 
 
THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 91 
 
 and floated about the pale blue pinnacles,^ dazzling and 
 confusing the sight of the traveler ; while his ear grew dull 
 and- his head dizzy with the constant .gush and roar of the 
 concealed waters. 
 
 These painful circumstances increased upon him as he 
 advanced; the ice crashed and yawned into fresh chasms 
 at his feet, tottering spires nodded around him and fell 
 thundering across his path ; and though he had repeatedly 
 faced these dangers on the most terrific glaciers and in the 
 wildest weather, it was with a new and oppressive feeling 
 of panic terror that he leaped the last chasm, and flung 
 himself, exhausted and shuddering, on the firm turf of the 
 mountain. 
 
 He had been compelled to abandon his basket of food, 
 which became a perilous incumbrance ^ on the glacier, and 
 had now no means of refreshing himself but by breaking 
 off and eatmg some of the pieces of ice. This, however, 
 relieved his thirst ; an hour's repose recruited ^ his hardy 
 frame, and with the indomitable ^ spirit of avarice he 
 resumed his laborious journey. - 
 
 His way lay straight up a ridge of bare rocks, without a 
 blade of grass to relieve the foot or a projecting angle to 
 afford an inch of shade from the south sun. It was past 
 noon, and the rays beat intensely upon the steep path, 
 while the whole atmosphere was motionless and penetrated 
 with heat. Intense heat was soon added to the bodily 
 fatigue with which Hans was now afflicted; glance after 
 glance he cast on the flask of water which hung at his belt. 
 " Three drops are enough," at last thought he ; "I may, at 
 least, cool my lips with it." 
 
 * pin'na-cles, heights. ^ re-cruit'ed, refreshed. 
 
 2 in-cum'brance, hindrance. * in-dom'i-ta-ble, unconquerable. 
 
92 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 He opened the flask and was raising it to his lips, when his 
 eye fell on an object on the rock beside him. He thought it 
 moved. It was a small dog, apparently in the last agony of 
 death from thirst. Its tongue was out, its jaws dry, its 
 limbs extended lifelessly, and a swarm of black ants were 
 crawling about its lips and throat. Its eye moved to the 
 bottle which Hans held in his hand. He raised it, drank, 
 spurned ^ the animal with his foot, and passed on. And he 
 did not know how it was^ but he thought that a strange 
 shadow had suddenly come across the blue sky. 
 
 The path became steeper and more rugged every moment ; 
 and the high hill air, instead of refreshing him, seemed to 
 throw his blood into a fever. The noise of the hill cata- 
 racts sounded like mockery in his ear; they were all distant, 
 and his thirst increased every moment. Another hour 
 passed, and again he looked down to the flask at his side ; it 
 was half empty, but there was much more than three drops 
 in it. He stopped to open it, and again, as he did so, some- 
 thing moved in the path before him. It was a fair child 
 stretched nearly lifeless on the rock, its breast heaving with 
 thirst, its eyes closed, and its lips parched and burning. 
 Hans eyed it deliberately, drank, and passed on. And a 
 dark gray cloud came over the sun, and long, snake-like 
 shadows crept up along the mountain sides. Hans struggled 
 on. The sun was sinking, but its descent seemed to bring 
 no coolness ; the leaden weight of the dead air pressed upon 
 his brow and heart, but the goal was near. He saw the cat- 
 aract of the Golden River springing from the hillside, scarcely 
 five hundred feet above him. He paused for ^ moment to 
 breathe, and sprang on to complete his task. 
 
 At this instant a faint cry fell on his ear. He turned and 
 1 spurned, pushed aside. 
 
THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 93 
 
 saw a gray-haired old man extended on the rocks. His eyes 
 were sunk, his features deadly pale and gathered into an ex- 
 pression of despair. " Water ! " He stretched his arms to 
 Hans and cried feebly, " Water ! I am dying ! " 
 
 " I have none," replied Hans ; " thou hast had thy share 
 of life." He strode over the prostrate body and darted on. 
 And a flash of blue lightning rose out of the east shaped like 
 a sword. It shook thrice over the whole heaven, and left it 
 dark with one heavy, impenetrable ^ shade. The sun was 
 setting; it plunged toward the horizon like a red-hot 
 ball. 
 
 The roar of the Golden River rose on Hans's ear. He 
 stood at the brink of the chasm through which it ran. Its 
 waves were filled with the red glory of the sunset ; they 
 shook the crests like tongues of fire, and flashes of bloody 
 light gleamed along their foam. Their sound came mightier 
 and mightier on his senses ; his brain grew giddy with the 
 prolonged thunder. Shuddering, he drew the flask from his 
 girdle and hurled it into the center of the torrent. As he 
 did so an icy chill shot through his limbs ; he staggered, 
 shrieked, and fell. The waters closed over his cry, and 
 the moaning of the river rose wildly into the night as it 
 gushed over 
 
 THE BLACK STONE, 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 "pOOR little Gluck waited very anxiously, alone in the 
 -■- house, for Hans's return. Finding he did not come 
 back he was terribly frightened, and went and told Schwartz 
 in the prison all that had happened. Then Schwartz was 
 
 * im-pen'e-tra-ble, that cannot be pierced. 
 
94 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 very much pleased, and said that Hans must have certainly 
 been turned into a black stone ; he should have all the gold 
 to himself. But Gluck was very sorry and cried all night. 
 When he got up in the morning there was no bread in the 
 house nor any money ; so Gluck went and hired himself to 
 another goldsmith, and he worked so hard, and so neatly, 
 and so long every day that he soon got money enough 
 together to pay his brother's fine, and he went and gave it 
 all to Schwartz, and Schwartz got out of prison. Then 
 Schwartz was quite pleased, and said that he should have 
 some of the gold of the river. But Gluck only begged he 
 would go and see what had become of Hans. 
 
 Now when Schwartz heard that Hans had stolen the holy 
 water, he thought to himself that such a proceeding might 
 not be considered altogether correct by the King of the 
 Golden River, and determined to manage matters better. 
 So he took some more of Gluck's money, and he went to a 
 bad priest, who gave him some holy water very readily for 
 it. Then Schwartz was sure it was all quite right. So 
 Schwartz got up early in the morning, before the sun rose, 
 and took some bread and wine in a basket, and put his holy 
 water in a flask, and set off for the mountains. Like his 
 brother, he was much surprised at the sight of the glacier, 
 and had great difficulty in crossing it, even after leaving his 
 basket behind him. The day was cloudless, but not bright ; 
 there was a heavy purple haze hanging over the sky, and 
 the hills looked lowering and gloomy. And as Schwartz 
 climbed the steep rock path the thirst came upon him, as it 
 had upon his brother, until he lifted his flask to his lips to 
 drink. Then he saw the fair child lying near him on the 
 rocks, and it cried to him and moaned for water. " Water, 
 indeed ! " said Schwartz ; " I have n't enough for myself," 
 
THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 95 
 
 and passed on. And as he went he thought the sunbeams 
 became dim, and he saw a low bank of black cloud rising 
 out of the west ; and when he had climbed for another hour 
 the thirst overcame him again, and he would have drunk. 
 Then he saw the old man lying before him on the path, 
 and heard him cry out for water. " Water, indeed ! " said 
 Schwartz ; " I have n't half enough for myself," and on he 
 went. 
 
 Then again the light seemed to fade before his eyes, and 
 he looked up, and behold, a mist of the color of blood had 
 come over the sun, and the bank of the black cloud had 
 risen very high, and its edges were tossing and tumbling 
 like the waves of an angry sea ; and they cast long shadows, 
 which flickered over Schwartz's path. 
 
 Then Schwartz climbed for another hour, and again his 
 thirst returned ; and as he lifted his flask to his lips he 
 thought he saw his brother Hans lying exhausted on the 
 path before him ; and as he gazed the figure stretched its 
 arms to him and cried for water. " Ha, ha ! " laughed 
 Schwartz ; " are you there ? Eemember the prison bars, my 
 boy. Water, indeed! do you suppose I carried it all the 
 way up here for you V* And he strode over the figure ; yet, 
 as he passed, he thought he saw a strange expression of 
 mockery about its lips. And when he had gone a few 
 yards farther he looked back, but the figure was not there. 
 
 And a sudden horror came over Schwartz, he knew not 
 why ; but the thirst for gold prevailed over his fear, and he 
 rushed on. And the bank of black cloud rose to the zenith, 
 and out of it came bursts of spiry lightning, and waves of 
 darkness seemed to heave and float between their flashes, 
 over the whole heavens. And the sky where the sun was 
 setting was all level, and like a lake of blood ; and a strong 
 
96 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 wind came out of that sky, tearing its crimson clouds into 
 fragments and scattering them far into the darkness. And 
 when Schwartz stood by the brink of the Golden River, its 
 waves were black like thunder clouds, but their foam was 
 like fire ; and the roar of the waters below and the thunder 
 above met as he cast the flask into the stream. And as he 
 did so the lightning glared in his eyes, and the earth gave 
 way beneath him, and the waters closed over his cry. And 
 the moaning of the river rose wildly into the night as it 
 gushed over the 
 
 TWO BLACK STONES. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 WHEN Gluck found that Schwartz did not come back, 
 he was very sorry, and he did not know what to do. 
 He had no money, and was obliged to go and hire himself 
 again to the goldsmith, who worked him very hard and gave 
 him very little money. So after a month or two Gluck 
 grew tired, and made up his mind to go and try his fortune 
 witli the Golden River. " The little king looked very 
 kind," thought he. " I do n't think he will turn me into a 
 black stone." So he went to the priest, and the priest gave 
 him some holy water as soon as he asked for it. Then 
 Gluck put some bread into his basket, and the bottle of 
 water, and set off very early for the mountains. 
 
 If the glacier had occasioned a great deal of fatigue to his 
 brothers, it was twenty times worse for him, who was neither 
 so strong nor so practiced on the mountains. He had sev- 
 eral very bad falls, lost his basket and bread, and was very 
 much frightened at the strange noises under the ice. He' 
 lay a long time to rest on the grass after he had got over, 
 
THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 97 
 
 and began to climb the hill just in the hottest part of the 
 day. When he had climbed for an hour he got dreadfully 
 thirsty, and was going to drink like his brothers, when he 
 saw an old man coming down the path above him, looking 
 very feeble and leaning on a staff. 
 
 "My son," said the old man, "I am faint with thirst; 
 give me some of that water ! " Then Gluck looked at liim, 
 and when he saw that he was pale and weary, he gave him 
 the water. " Only, pray, do n't drink it all," said Gluck. 
 But the old man drank a great deal, and gave him back 
 the bottle two thirds empty. Then he bade him good speed, 
 and Gluck went on again m^errily. And the path became 
 easier to his feet, and two or three blades of grass appeared 
 upon it, and some grasshoppers began singing on the bank 
 beside it; and Gluck thought he had never heard such 
 merry singing. 
 
 Then he went on for another hour, and the thirst increased 
 on him so that he thought he should be forced to drink. 
 But as he raised the flask he saw a little child lying pant- 
 ing by the roadside, and it cried out piteously for water. 
 Then Gluck struggled with himself, and determined to bear 
 the thirst a little longer; and he put the bottle to the child's 
 lips, and it drank all but a few drops. Then it smiled on 
 him, and got up and ran down the hill ; and Gluck looked 
 after it till it became as small as a little star, and then 
 turned and began climbing again. And then there were 
 all kinds of sweet flowers growing on the rocks, — bright 
 green moss, with pale pink starry flowers, and soft belled 
 gentians more blue than the sky at its deepest, and pure 
 white transparent lilies. And crimson and purple butterflies 
 darted hither and thither, and the sky sent down such pure 
 light that Gluck had never felt so happy in his life. 
 
98 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Yet, when he had climbed for another hour, his thirst 
 became intolerable ^ again ; and when he looked at his bot- 
 tle, he saw that there were only five or six drops left in it, 
 and he could not venture to drink. And as he was hanging 
 the flask to his belt again he saw a little dog lying on the 
 rocks, gasping for breath, — just as Hans had seen it on the 
 day of his ascent. And Gluck stopped and looked at it, 
 and then at the Golden River, not five hundred yards above 
 him ; and he thought of the dwarf's words, " that no one 
 could succeed except in his first attempt," and he tried to 
 pass the dog, but it whined piteously, and Gluck stopped 
 again. " Poor beastie," said Gluck, " it '11 be dead when I 
 come down again, if I do n't help it now." Then he looked 
 closer and closer at it, and its eye turned on him so mourn- 
 fully that he could not stand it. " Confound the King, and 
 his gold too ! " said Gluck ; and he opened the flask and 
 poured all the water into the dog's mouth. 
 
 The dog sprang up and stood on his hind legs. Its tail 
 disappeared, its ears became long, longer, silky, golden ; its 
 nose became very red, its eyes became very twinkling ; in 
 three seconds the dog was gone, and before Gluck stood his 
 old acquaintance, the King of the Golden River. 
 
 " Thank you," said the monarch ; " but don't be frightened, 
 it 's all right, " — for Gluck showed manifest ^ symptoms of 
 consternation at this unlooked-for reply to his last observa- 
 tion. " Why did n't you come before," continued the dwarf, 
 " instead of sending me those rascally brothers of yours, for 
 me to have the trouble of turning into stones ? Very hard 
 stones they make, too." 
 
 " Oh, dear me I " said Gluck, " have you really been so 
 cruel?" 
 
 ^ in-tol'er-a-ble, not to be endured. " manl-feat, plainly apparent. 
 
THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 99 
 
 " Cruel ! " said the dwarf. " They poured unholy water 
 into my stream: do you suppose I'm going to allow 
 that?" 
 
 " Why," said Gluck, " I am sure, sir, — your Majesty, I 
 mean, — they got the water out of the church font." 
 
 "Very probably," replied the dwarf; "but," and his 
 countenance grew stern as he spoke, " the water which has 
 been refused to the weary and the dying is unholy, though 
 it had been blessed by every saint in heaven ; and the water 
 which is found in the vessel of mercy is holy, though it had 
 been defiled with corpses." 
 
 So saying, the dwarf stooped and plucked a lily that grew 
 at his feet. On its white leaves there hung three drops of 
 clear dew. And the dwarf shook them into the flask which 
 Gluck held in his hand. " Cast these into the river," he 
 said, " and descend on the other side of the mountains into 
 the Treasure Valley. And so good speed ! " 
 
 As he spoke, the figure of the dwarf became indistinct. 
 The playing colors of his robe formed themselves into a 
 prismatic mist of dewy light ; he stood for an instant veiled 
 with them as with the belt of a broad rainbow. The colors 
 grew faint, the mist rose into the air, — the monarch had 
 evaporated. 
 
 And Gluck climbed to the brink of the Golden River, 
 and its waves were as clear as crystal and as brilliant as the 
 sun. And when he cast the three drops of dew into 
 the stream, there opened, where they fell, a small circular 
 whirlpool, into which the waters descended with a musical 
 noise. 
 
 Gluck stood watching it for some time, very much disap- 
 pointed because the river not only was not turned into gold, 
 but its waters seemed much diminished in quantity. Yet he 
 
100 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 obeyed his friend the dwarf, and descended the other side 
 of the mountains towards the Treasure Valley ; and as he 
 went he thought he heard the noise of water working its 
 way under the ground. And when he came in sight of 
 the Treasure Valley, behold, a river like the Golden River 
 was springing from a new cleft of the rocks above it, and 
 was flowing in innumerable streams among the dry heaps of 
 red sand. 
 
 And as Gluck gazed, fresh grass sprang beside the new 
 streams, and creeping plants grew and climbed among the 
 moistening soil. Young flowers opened suddenly along the 
 river sides, as stars leap out when twilight is deepening, and 
 thickets of myrtle and tendrils of vine cast lengthening 
 shadows over the valley as they grew. And thus the 
 Treasure Valley became a garden again, and the inherit- 
 ance which had been lost by cruelty was regained by love. 
 
 And Gluck went and dwelt in the valley, and the poor 
 were never driven from his door : so that his barns became 
 full of com and his house of treasure. And for him the 
 river had, according to the dwarf's promise, become a River 
 of Gold. 
 
 And to this day the inhabitants of the valley point out 
 the place where the three drops of holy dew were cast 
 into the stream, and trace the course of the Golden River 
 under the ground until it emerges in the Treasure Valley. 
 And at the top of the cataract of the Golden River are still 
 to be seen Two Black Stones, round which the waters 
 howl mournfully every day at sunset ; and these stones are 
 still called by the people of the valley, 
 
 THE BLACK BROTHERS. 
 
» > 1 ' ' > 
 
 THE OLD OAKEN BUqUET. ; 
 
 101 
 
 XIII. THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 
 
 By Samuel Woodworth. 
 
 HOW dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood, 
 When fond recollection presents them to view! 
 The orchard, the meadow, the 
 deep-tangled wildwood, 
 And every loved spot that ""^ 
 my infancy knew ; — 
 The widespreading pond, and 
 the- mill which stood by it; 
 The bridge, and the rock 
 where the cataract fell ; 
 The cot of my father, the dairy- 
 house nigh it, 
 And e'en the rude bucket which hung in the well! 
 The old oaken bucket. 
 The iron-bound bucket. 
 The moss-covered bucket, which hung in the well. 
 
 That moss-covered vessel I hail 
 as a treasure ; 
 For often at noon, when re- 
 turned from the field, 
 I found it the source of an 
 exquisite pleasure, 
 The purest and sweetest that 
 Nature can yield. 
 How ardent I seized it, with 
 hands that were glowing, 
 '>^.^,i";^/-y^^///.7^ And quick to the white-peb- 
 bled bottom it fell? 
 
n o o c • 
 A «• » • 
 
 lOS 
 
 ^ FIFTH READER. 
 
 Irhen soon, with the ejnblem of truth overflowing, 
 And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well; — 
 
 The old oaken bucket, 
 
 The iron-bound bucket. 
 The moss-covered bucket, arose from the well ! 
 
 How sweet from the green 
 mossy brim to receive it. 
 As, poised on the curb, it 
 inclined to my lips ! 
 Not a full blushing goblet could 
 tempt me to leave it, 
 Though filled with the nectar 
 that Jupiter sips. 
 And now, far removed from the 
 loved situation. 
 The tear of regret will in- 
 trusively swell. 
 As fancy reverts to my father's plantation. 
 
 And sighs for the bucket which hangs in the well; — 
 The old oaken bucket, 
 The iron-bound bucket. 
 The moss-covered bucket, which hangs in the well ! 
 
SILKWORMS. 
 
 103 
 
 XIV. SILKWORMS. 
 
 By John Henry Gray. 
 
 I 
 
 N endeavoring to give 
 some account of the 
 manufacture of silk, the 
 most important branch of 
 Chinese industry, the first 
 point to be noticed is the 
 mode in which the silk- 
 worms are reared. Those 
 who are engaged in this 
 work select a certain num- 
 ber of male and female 
 cocoons.^ They have no 
 difficulty in distinguishing 
 the sex, as the cocoon which 
 contains the male is strong, 
 very pointed at each end, and smaller than that which 
 contains the female, which is thick, round, and soft. 
 
 At the end of a period of fifteen or twenty days the moths 
 come out of the cocoons. They free themselves by first 
 ejecting a fluid which dissolves a portion of the cocoon. All 
 moths the wings of which are expanded at the time of their 
 birth are regarded as useful, whereas those having crumpled 
 wings, no eyebrows, and which are without down, are con- 
 sidered useless, and are at once destroyed. 
 
 1 co-coon', the oblong case in which the silkworm passes its chrysalis 
 period. It is nriade of threads of silk spun by the worm just before 
 leaving its larval state. 
 
 COCOON, 
 
 MOTH, AND 
 
 SILKWORM 
 
104 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 After a day the females, each having been placed on a 
 sheet of coarse paper, begin to lay their eggs. In the silk 
 districts of the north, owing, I suppose, to the severe cli- 
 mates, pieces of cloth are used instead of paper. The num- 
 ber of eggs which each moth lays is generally five hundred, 
 and the period required for her to perform so great a labor 
 is, I believe, about seventy-four hours. The females often 
 die almost as soon as they have laid their^ eggs, and the 
 males do not long survive them. 
 
 The egg of the silkworm, which is of a whitish or pale ash 
 color, is not larger than a grain of mustarS? seed. When 
 eighteen days old, the eggs are carefully washed with spring 
 water. The sheet of coarse paper or the piece of cloth on 
 which they were laid, and to which they adhere, is very 
 gently drawn through spring water contained in a wooden 
 or earthen bowl. During the autumnal months the eggs 
 are carefully kept in a cool chamber, the sheets of paper 
 or pieces of cloth being suspended back to back from 
 bamboo rods placed in a horizontal position. 
 
 In the tenth month of the Chinese year, which corresponds 
 with our December, the sheets are rolled up, and then depos- 
 ited in a room which is well swept and free from all noxious ^ 
 influences. On the third day of the twelfth month the eggs 
 are again washed, and are exposed to the air to dry. 
 
 In the spring of the year, the eggs being now ready to 
 bring forth, the sheets are placed on mats, and each mat 
 placed on a bamboo shelf in a well-swept and well-warmed 
 chamber containing a series of shelves arranged along the 
 wall. The shelves are almost invariably made of bamboo, 
 the wood of which emits no fragrance, aromatic ^ wood being 
 especially avoided as unsuitable for the purpose. 
 
 ^ noz'ious (shus), harmful. '^ ar-o-mafic, fragrant. 
 
SILKWORMS. 105 
 
 At the time of their biith the worms are black, and so 
 small as scarcely to exceed a hair in breadth. Owing to 
 their diminutive ^ size, those in charge of them cut the leaves 
 of the mulberry tree, on which they are fed, into very small 
 pieces. This is done with very sharp knives, so that the 
 leaves may not be bruised, and consequently retain as much 
 sap as possible. 
 
 When the worms are quite young, they are fed not less 
 than forty-eight times in twenty-four hours. In course of 
 time their meals are reduced to thirty in twenty-four hours ; 
 and when they have attained to their full growth, they get 
 only three or four in the day. Occasionally, — that is, once 
 or twice during the first month, — the worms are fed with 
 mulberry leaves well mixed with the flour of green, peas, 
 that of black beans, and that of rice. This mixture is sup- 
 posed to be cooling and cleansing to the worms and to tend 
 to the production of strong and glossy silk. 
 
 Like all other creatures these insects have their seasons of 
 rest, and to these seasons the Chinese give distinguishing 
 names. The first sleep, which takes place on the fourth or 
 fifth day after birth, is termed the " hair sleep," and lasts 
 but one day. The second sleep takes place on the eighth or 
 ninth day, and the third on the fourteenth day ; the fourth 
 and last sleep takes place on or about the twenty-second day, 
 and is styled, in consequence of its long duration, the " great 
 sleep." On the near approach of each period, the worm loses 
 its appetite. It erects the upper part of its body and sleeps 
 in this position. 
 
 During each period of sleep it casts its skin, continuing in 
 a state of repose until the new skin is fully matured. It 
 relieves itself of the old skin by wriggling out at that 
 ^ di-min'u-tive, very small. 
 
106 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 part of it which covers the head, and which is broken. 
 Sometimes the worm dies in consequence of its inability to 
 free the end of its body from the old skin. The skin being 
 shed, the worm grows very quickly in size and strength. 
 
 Between the successive periods of rest, there are generally 
 intervals of three or four days, during which these little 
 creatures eat most voraciously. During the four or five 
 days which immediately precede the " great sleep " they 
 have a greater appetite for food than they have hitherto 
 manifested. When they have reached tthe age of thirty-two 
 days they are full grown, each being aboiit two inches in 
 length, and almost as thick as a man's little finger. 
 
 When the worms are gradually increasing in size they are 
 separated, periodically, intcNseveraL lots, so as to give them 
 more room. Now that it is fulL<^rown, the worm, which be- 
 fore was a whitish hue, assumes a tint resembling that of 
 amber. At this period they cease to partake of food, and 
 begin to spin the silk from their mouths on the frames or 
 shelves on which they have been placed. 
 
 In spinning, they move the head first to one side and then 
 to the other, and continue the operation until the whole 
 body is enveloped in a cocoon. The time which a worm 
 requires to accomplish this labor is, I believe, from three to 
 five days ; and as soon as it has inclosed itself in the cocoon, 
 it falls into a state of coma,^ casts its skin, and eventually ^ 
 becomes a chiysalis. 
 
 The attendants then place the bamboo shelves on which 
 the cocoons lie near a slow fire of charcoal or wood, in order 
 that the chrysalids ^ may be destroyed by its heat ; otherwise 
 
 * co'ma, unconsciousness, like sleep. 
 
 2 e-vent'u-al-ly, in the end ; finally. 
 
 5 chrys'a-lids, the insects in the cocoons. 
 
SILKWORMS. 107 
 
 these would, in three weeks more, break from their prison 
 and appear in tlie imago form, — the last perfected state of 
 insect life. 
 
 The chrysalids having been destroyed, the cocoons are re- 
 moved from the frames and placed in baskets. Women and 
 girls, carefully selected for the task, now unwind the co- 
 coons, — a process which they make easy by placing them 
 in boiling water. These workers must be deft of hand, and 
 expert in the business, fully capable of making the threads 
 of equal size, and of producing them bright, clear, and 
 glossy. 
 
 When the cocoons are put into boiling water, the outer 
 layer, which is called the silk rind or shell, is first unwound. 
 Another set of women or girls, %ho are equally expert, is 
 then engaged to unwind the , inner layers of the cocoon, 
 called the silk pulp or flesht In the course of a day one 
 woman can unwind four^taels ^ of silk in weight. The most 
 expert workers cannot, I believe, turn off more than five or 
 six taels' weight. 
 
 Industrious workers, who are masters of the business, will 
 finish one season, or silk harvest, in the course of eighteen 
 or nineteen days. Ordinary or second-rate workers will re- 
 quire twenty-four or twenty-five days to get through the 
 same amount of work. 
 
 From long, white, and shining cocoons, a small and 
 good thread of silk is obtained ; from those which are large 
 and dull in texture, a coarse thread is produced. This 
 coarse thread is used in making the stuffs with which 
 dresses are lined. The chrysalids are eaten by the workers, 
 and are regarded as food of an excellent kind. 
 
 ^ tael (tale), about one and a third ounces. 
 
108 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 XV. THE GLOVE AND THE LIONS. 
 
 By James Henry Leigh Hunt. 
 
 KING FRANCIS was a hearty king, and loved a royal 
 sport, 
 And one day, as his lions fought, sat looking on the court ; 
 The nobles filled the benches, with the ladies in their 
 
 pride. 
 And Jmongst them sat the Count de Lorge with one for 
 
 whom he sighed: 
 And truly 'twas a gallant thing to see that crowning 
 
 show, — 
 Valor and love, and a king above, and the royal beasts 
 
 below. 
 
 Ramped and roared the lions, with horrid laughing jaws: 
 They bit, they glared, gave blows like beams, a wind 
 
 went with their paws ; 
 With wallowing might and stifled roar they rolled on 
 
 one another, 
 Till all the pit, with sand and mane, was in a thunderous 
 
 smother ; 
 The bloody foam above the bars came whisking through 
 
 the air : 
 Said Francis then, " Faith, gentlemen, we 're better here 
 
 than there ! " 
 
 De Lorge's love o'erheard the king, — a beauteous, lively 
 
 dame, 
 With smiling lips and sharp, bright eyes, which always 
 
 seemed the same: 
 
TERRIFIC SCENE AT THE NATURAL BRIDGE. 109 
 
 She thought, " The Count, my lover, is brave as brave 
 
 can be, — 
 He surely would do wondrous things to show his love of me. 
 King, ladies, lovers, all look on; the occasion is divine; 
 I '11 drop my glove to prove his love ; great glory will 
 
 be mine." 
 
 She dropped her glove to prove his love, then looked at 
 
 him and smiled; 
 He bowed, and in a moment leaped among the lions wild : 
 The leap was quick, return was quick, he has regained 
 
 his place, 
 Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the 
 
 lady's face. 
 " In faith," cried Francis, " rightly done ! " and he rose 
 
 from where he sat; 
 "No love," quoth he, "but vanity, sets love a task like 
 
 that." 
 
 XVI. TERRIFIC SCENE AT THE NATURAL BRIDGE. 
 
 By ElIHU BURRITT.I 
 
 THERE are three or four lads standing in the channel 
 below, looking up with awe to that vast arch of 
 unhewn rocks which the Almighty bridged over those 
 everlasting hutments " when the morning stars sang to- 
 
 1 Elihu Burritt, 1811-1879, was known as the Learned Black- 
 smith. When a boy he learned the blacksmith's trade, but he always 
 desired above all things to be a scholar ; so he used to take books to his 
 smithy, and place them where he could read as he blew his bellows. 
 So hard did he study that in spite of his discouragements he became 
 a great scholar, learned to read and speak a number of languages, and 
 wrote profound books. 
 
A FIFTH READER. 
 
 
 Mm^- 
 
 ^ >"*^^^ .,; 
 
 ''^''•ims^- 
 
 '.^1 
 
 w 
 
 I. -.A 
 
 '^;S 
 
 1 
 
 /■ 
 
 \M 
 
 V gether." 
 • The little 
 piece of sky 
 spanning 
 those measureless 
 piers is full of 
 stars, although it 
 is mid -day. 
 It is almost five hun- 
 dred^ feet from where 
 they stand, up those 
 perpendicular bulwarks 
 of limestone, to the key 
 rock of that vast arch, 
 which appears to them only the size of a man's hand. The 
 silence of death is rendered more impressive by the little 
 
 1 The height of the Natural Bridge is given by the Century Dictionary 
 as 216 feet. 
 
 MATUBAL BRIDGE, VIRGINIA. 
 
TERRIFIC SCENE AT THE NATURAL BRIDGE. Ill 
 
 stream that falls from rock to rock down the channel. The 
 sun is darkened, and the boys have unconsciously un- 
 covered their heads, as if standing in the presence chamber 
 of the Majesty of the whole earth. 
 
 At last this feeling begins to wear away ; they begin to 
 look around them; they find that others have been there 
 before them. They see the names of hundreds cut in the 
 limestone hutments. A new feeling comes over the young 
 hearts, and their knives are in their hands in an instant. 
 "What man has done, man can do," is their watchword, 
 while they draw themselves up and carve their names a foot 
 above those of a hundred full-grown men who have been 
 there before them. 
 
 They are all satisfied with tliis feat of physical exertion 
 except one, whose example illustrates perfectly the forgotten 
 truth that there is no royal road to intellectual eminence. 
 This ambitious youth sees a name just above his reach, 
 a name that will be green in the memory of the world 
 when those of Alexander, Csesar, and Bonaparte shall rot 
 Ml oblivion. It was the name of Washington. Before he 
 marched with Braddock to that fatal field he had been 
 there, and left his name a foot above all his predecessors'. 
 
 It was a glorious thought of the boy to write his name 
 side by side with that of the Father of his Country. He 
 grasps his knife with a firmer hand, and, clinging to a little 
 jutting crag, he cuts a niche into the limestone about a foot 
 above where he stands ; he then reaches up and cuts another 
 for his hands. 'T is a dangerous adventure ; but as he puts 
 his feet and hands in those niches and draws himself up 
 carefully to his full length, he finds himself a foot above 
 every name chronicled^ i.i that mighty wall. 
 * chron'i-cled, recorded. 
 
112 A FIFTH READER 
 
 While his companions are regarding him with concern 
 and admiration, he cuts his name in rude capitals, large and 
 deep, into that flinty album. His knife is still in his hand, 
 and strength in his sinews, and new-created aspiration in his 
 heart. Again he cuts another niche, and again he carves 
 his name in larger capitals. 
 
 This is not enough. Heedless of the entreaties of his 
 companions, he cuts and climbs again. The gradations ^ 
 of his ascending scale grow wider apart. He measures his 
 length at every gain he cuts. The voices of his friends wax 
 weaker and weaker, till their words are finally lost on 
 his ear. 
 
 He now for the first time casts a look beneath him. Had 
 the glance lasted a moment, that moment would have been 
 his last. He clings with a convulsive ^ shudder to his little 
 niche in the rock. 
 
 An awful abyss awaits his almost certain fall. He is 
 faint with severe exertion, and trembling from the sudden 
 view of the dreadful destruction to which he is exposed. 
 His knife is worn half-way to the haft. He can hear the 
 voices, but not the words, of his terror-stricken companions 
 below. 
 
 What a moment ! What a meager chance to escape 
 destruction ! There is no retracing his steps. It is impos- 
 sible to put his hands into the same niche with his feet and 
 retain his slender hold a moment. His companions instantly 
 perceive this new and fearful dilemma,^ and await his fall 
 with emotions that "freeze their young blood." 
 
 He is too high, too faint, to ask for his father and mother, 
 his brothers and sisters, to come and witness or avert his 
 
 1 gra-da'tionB, steps. ^ con-vul'sive, like a spasm. 
 
 8 di-lem'ma, difficulty ; doubtful choice. 
 
TERRIFIC SCENE AT THE NATURAL BRIDGE. 113 
 
 destruction. But one of his companions anticipates his 
 desire. Swift as the wind he bounds down the channel, 
 and the situation of the fated boy is told on his father's 
 hearthstone. 
 
 Minutes of almost eternal length roll on, and there are 
 hundreds standing in that rocky channel, and hundreds 
 on the bridge above, all holding their breath and awaiting 
 the fearful catastrophe. The poor boy hears the hum of 
 new and numerous voices both above and below. He 
 can just distinguish the tones of his father, who is shout- 
 ing, with all the energy of despair, "William! William! 
 do n't look down ! Your mother, and Henry, and Harriet 
 are all here praying for you ! Keep your eye toward 
 the top I " 
 
 The boy did n't look down. His eye is fixed like a flint 
 toward heaven, and his young heart on Him who reigns 
 there. He grasps again his knife. He cuts another niche, 
 and another foot is added to the hundreds that remove him 
 from the reach of human help from below. 
 
 How carefully he uses his wasting blade ! How anxiously 
 he selects the softest places in that vast pier! How he 
 avoids every flinty grain ! how he economizes ^ his physical 
 powers, resting a moment at each gain he cuts ! How every 
 motion is watched from below! There stand his father, 
 mother, brother, and sister, on the very spot where, if he 
 falls, he will not fall alone. 
 
 The sun is now half-way down the west. The lad has 
 made fifty additional niches in that mighty wall, and now 
 finds himself directly under the middle of that vast arch of 
 rocks, earth, and trees. He must cut his way in a new 
 direction to get from under this overhanging mountain 
 q - * e-con'o-mi zes, saves. 
 
114 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 The inspiration of hope is dying in his bosom ; its vital 
 heat is fed by the increasing shouts of hundreds perched 
 upon cliffs and trees, and others who stand with ropes in 
 their hands on the bridge above, or with ladders below. 
 Fifty gains more must be cut before the longest rope can 
 reach him. His wasting blade strikes again into the lime- 
 stone. The boy is emerging painfully, foot by foot, from 
 under that lofty arch. Spliced ropes are ready in the hands 
 of those who are leaning over the outer edge of the bridge. 
 
 Two minutes more and all will be over. The blade is 
 worn to the last half-inch. The boy's head reels ; his eyes 
 are starting from their sockets ; his last hope is dying in 
 his heart ; his life must hang on the next gash he cuts. 
 That niche is his last. At the last faint gash he makes, 
 his knife, his faithful knife, drops from his little nerveless 
 hand, and, ringing along the precipice, falls at his mother's 
 feet. 
 
 An involuntary ^ groan of despair runs like a death knell 
 through the channel below, and all is still as the grave. 
 At the height of nearly three hundred feet the devoted boy 
 lifts his hopeless heart, and closes his eyes to commend 
 his soul to God. 'T is but a moment — there ! one foot 
 swings off ! he is reeling — trembling — toppling — over 
 intx) eternity ! 
 
 Hark ! a shout falls on his ear from above. The man 
 who is lying with half his length over the bridge has 
 caught a glimpse of the boy's head and shoulders. Quick 
 as thought the noosed rope is within reach of the sinking 
 youth. No one breathes. 
 
 With a faint, convulsive effort, the swooning boy drops 
 his arms into the noose. Darkness comes over him, and 
 * in-vol'un-ta-ry, unintentional. 
 
AN INCIDENT OF THE CRIMEAN WAR. 115 
 
 with the words " God " and " Mother " whispered on his 
 lips, just loud enough to be heard in heaven, the tightening 
 rope lifts him out of this last shallow niche. 
 
 Not a lip moves while he is dangling over that fearful 
 abyss ; but when a sturdy Virginian reaches down and 
 draws up the lad, and holds him up in his arms before the 
 tearful, breathless multitude, such shouting — such weeping 
 and leaping for joy — never greeted the ear of a human 
 being so recovered from the yawning gulf of eternity. 
 
 XVII. AN INCIDENT OF THE CRIMEAN WAR. 
 
 ABOUT the middle of this century there was a terrible 
 war between Russia, on one side, and England with 
 her allies, on the other. It was known as the Crimean War. 
 During a great battle at a place called Balaklava, a com- 
 pany of British soldiers known as the Light Brigade per- 
 formed a deed of bravery almost equal to that of the 
 Spartans at Thermopylae. Through somebody's mistake 
 they received an order to charge upon a portion of the 
 Russian army vastly larger than their own company, and 
 protected by great batteries of artillery. 
 
 Although it seemed a rash and hopeless undertaking, 
 they had received the order and felt that they must obey. 
 With a battery in front and one on each side, they made a 
 charge and routed the enemy ; but it was a dear-bought 
 victory. Out of six hundred and seventy horsemen, only 
 one hundred and ninety-eight returned alive. It was 
 about this charge that the poet Tennyson wrote the follow- 
 ing poem. 
 
116 A FIFTH READER 
 
 XVIII. CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE. 
 
 By Alfred Tennyson. 
 
 HALF a league, half a league, 
 Half a league onward, 
 All in the valley of death 
 
 Rode the six hundred. 
 " Forward, the Light Brigade ! 
 Charge for the guns ! " he said : 
 Into the valley of Death 
 Rode the six hundred. 
 
 " Forward, the Light Brigade ! " 
 Was there a man dismayed? 
 Not though the soldiers knew 
 
 Some one had blundered: 
 Theirs not to make reply, 
 Theirs not to reason why, 
 Theirs but to do and die; 
 Into the valley of Death 
 
 Rode the six hundred. 
 
 Cannon to right of them, 
 Cannon to left of them, 
 Cannon in front of them, 
 
 Volleyed and thundered ; 
 Stormed at with shot and shell. 
 Boldly they rode, and well; 
 Into the jaws of Death, 
 Into the mouth of Hell, 
 
 Rode the six hundred. 
 
CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE. 117 
 
 Flashed all their sabers bare, 
 Flashed as they turned in air, 
 Sab'ring the gunners there, 
 Charging an army, while 
 
 All the world wondered : 
 Plunged in the batteiy -smoke. 
 Right through the line they broke j 
 
 Cossack and Russian 
 Reeled from the saber-stroke. 
 
 Shattered and sundered. 
 Then they rode back, but not — 
 
 Not the six hundred. 
 
 Cannon to right of them. 
 Cannon to left of them, 
 Cannon behind them 
 
 Volleyed and thundered ; 
 Stormed at with shot and shell. 
 While horse and hero fell, 
 They that had fought so well 
 Came through the jaws of Death 
 Back from the mouth of Hell, 
 All that was left of them — 
 
 Left of six hundred. 
 
 When can their glory fade? 
 Oh, the wild charge they made ! 
 
 All the world wondered. 
 Honor the charge they made I 
 Honor the Light Brigade, — 
 
 Noble six hundred ! 
 
118 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 XIX. AMERICA. 
 
 By Samuel Francis Smith. 
 
 MY country, 't is of thee, 
 Sweet land of liberty, 
 Of thee I sing; 
 Land where my fathers died, 
 Land of the Pilgrims' pride, 
 From every mountain-side 
 Let freedom ring. 
 
 My native country, thee. 
 Land of the noble free, 
 
 Thy name I love ; 
 I love thy rocks and rills, 
 Thy woods and templed hills; 
 My heart with rapture thrills 
 
 Like that above. 
 
 Let music swell the breeze, 
 And ring from all the trees, 
 
 Sweet Freedom's song; 
 Let mortal tongues awake. 
 Let all that breathe partake. 
 Let rocks their silence break. 
 
 The sound prolong. 
 
 Our fathers' God, to Thee, 
 Author of liberty. 
 
 To Thee we sing ; 
 Long may our land be bright 
 With Freedom's holy light; 
 Protect us by Thy Might, 
 
 Great God, our King. 
 
AMERICA. 
 
 119 
 
 « ^^ Hit « /ll _, 
 
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 * * * * 'J 
 
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 Copyright, 1895, by Silver, Burdett & Company. 
 
 . SAMUEL FRANCIS SMITH, AUTHOR OF "AMERICA.' 
 
 From a Photograph of Dr. Smith taken 
 in the Editorial Rooms of Siher, Burdett 
 & Compantj, April 15th, 1895, a few 
 months before his death. 
 
120 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 XX. GENERAL JOSEPH WARREN'S ADDRESS. 
 
 By John Pierpont. 
 
 STAND r the ground 's your own, my braves ! 
 Will ye give it up to slaves? 
 Will ye look for greener graves? 
 
 Hope ye mercy still ? 
 What 's the mercy despots feel ? 
 Hear it in that battle peal I 
 Read it on yon bristling steel! 
 Ask it, ye who will ! 
 
 Fear ye foes who kill for hire ? 
 Will ye to your homes retire? 
 Look behind you! they're afire! 
 
 And before you, see 
 Who have done it ! From the vale 
 On they come ! — and will ye quail ? 
 Leaden rain and iron hail 
 
 Let their welcome be ! 
 
 In the God of battles trust! 
 Die we may, and die we must ; 
 But, oh, where can dust to dust 
 
 Be consigned so well 
 As where heaven its dews shall shed 
 On the martyred patriot's bed? 
 And the rocks shall raise their head, 
 
 Of his deeds to tell 
 
OUR BODY. 121 
 
 XXI. LOVE OF COUNTRY. 
 
 By Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 BREATHES there the man with soul so dead 
 Who never to himself hath said, 
 
 " This is my own, my native land ! " 
 Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, 
 As home his footsteps he hath turned 
 
 From wandering on a foreign strand? 
 
 If such there breathe, go, mark him well I 
 For him no minstrel raptures swell; 
 High though his titles, proud his name, 
 Boundless his wealth as wish can claim, — 
 Despite those titles, power, and pelf, 
 The wretch,. concenter'd all in self, 
 Living, shall forfeit fair renown. 
 And, doubly djdng, shall go down 
 To the vile dust from whence he sprung, 
 Unwept, unhonored, and unsung. 
 
 XXII. OUR BODY. 
 By Helen Hunt Jackson. 
 
 ARE we not each of us born into the world provided with 
 one body, and only one, which must last us as long 
 as we live in this world ? Is it not by means of this body 
 that we feel, learn, and accomplish everything ? Is it not 
 a most wonderful and beautiful set of instruments? Can 
 
122 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 we ever replace any of them? Can we ever have any of 
 them made as good as new after it has been seriously out 
 of order ? 
 
 It would not be easy to count up all the things which 
 human beings can do by help of these wonderful bodies in 
 which we live. Think for a moment of all the things you 
 do in any one day, — all the breathing, eating, drinking, and 
 running ; all the thinking, speaking, feeling, learning, you 
 can do in one day. Now if any one of the instruments is 
 seriously out of order, you cannot do one of these things so 
 well as you know how to do it. 
 
 When any one of the instruments is seriously out of order 
 there is always a pain. If the pain is severe you cannot 
 think of anything else while it lasts ; all your other instru- 
 ments are of no use to you, just because of the pain in that 
 one which is out of order. 
 
 If the pain and the disordered condition last a long while, 
 the instrument is so injured that it is never as strong again 
 as it was in the beginning. All the doctors in the world 
 cannot make it so. 
 
 Then you begin to be what people call an invalid, — that is, 
 a person who has not the full use of some one part of his 
 body ; who is never exactly comfortable himself, and who is 
 likely to make everybody about him more or less uncom- 
 fortable. 
 
 I do not know anything in this world half so strange as 
 the way in which people neglect their bodies, — their one set 
 of instruments that they can never replace, and can do very 
 little towards mending. 
 
 When it is too late, when the instruments are hopelessly 
 out of order, then they do not neglect them any longer; 
 then they run about frantically, trying to find some one to 
 
OUR BODY. 123 
 
 help them. And this is one of the saddest sights in the 
 world, — a man or a woman running from one climate to 
 another climate, and from one doctor to another doctor, 
 trying to cure or patch up a body that is grievously out 
 of order. 
 
 Now, perhaps you will say that this is a dismal and need- 
 less sermon to preach to young people ; for have they not 
 their fathers and mothers to take care of them ? Very true ; 
 but fathers and mothers cannot always be with their chil- 
 dren, fathers and mothers cannot always make their children 
 remember and obey their directions. 
 
 More than all, it is very hard to make children realize that 
 it is of any great importance that they should keep all the 
 laws of health. I know when I was a little girl, when peo- 
 ple said to me, " You must not do thus and thus, for if you 
 do you will take cold," I used to think, " Who cares for a little 
 cold? Supposing I do catch one ! " 
 
 And when I was shut up in the house for several days 
 with a bad sore throat, and suffered great pain, I never 
 blamed myself. I thought that sore throats must come now 
 and then, and that I must take my turn. 
 
 But now I have learned that if no laws of health were 
 ever broken we need never have a day's illness, might grow 
 old free from suffering, and at last gradually fall asleep 
 instead of dying terrible deaths from disease. 
 
 I am all the while wishing that I had known this when I 
 was young. If I had known it, I will tell you what I 
 would have done. I would have just tried the experiment 
 of never doing a single thing which could by any possibility 
 put any one of the instruments of my body out of order. 
 
 I wish I could see some girl or boy try it yet : never to 
 sit "up late at night ; never to have close, bad air in the 
 
184 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 room ; never to sit with wet feet ; never to go out in the cold 
 weather without being properly wrapped up ; never to go 
 out of a hot room into the cold out-door air without putting 
 on some extra wrap ; never to eat or drink an unwholesome 
 thing ; never to let a day pass without at least two hours 
 of exercise in the open air ; never to read a word by twi- 
 light or in the cars ; never to let the sun be shut out of the 
 rooms. 
 
 This is a pretty long list of nevers, but " never " is the 
 only word that wins. After you have once made up your 
 mind " never " to do a certain thing, that is the end of it if 
 you are a sensible person. 
 
 But if you only say, "This is a bad habit: I will be a 
 little on my guard, and not do it too often," you Avill find 
 temptation knocking at your door twenty times a day, and 
 you will have to be fighting the same old battles over again 
 as long as you live. 
 
 But when you have laid down to yourself the rules that 
 you mean to keep, — the things you will always do and the 
 things you will " never " do, — your life at once arranges 
 itself into beautiful order. 
 
 Do not think it would be a sort of slavery to give up so 
 much for the sake of keeping your body in order ! It is the 
 only real freedom, though at first it does not seem so much 
 like freedom as the other way. 
 
 I think the difference between a person who has kept all the 
 laws of health, and thereby has a good, strong, sound body 
 that can do whatever he wants to do, and a person who has 
 let his body get all out of order, so that he has to lie in bed 
 half his time and suffer, is quite as great a difference as there 
 is between a creature with wings and a creature without 
 wings. Do n't you ? 
 
THE SONG OF STEAM. 125 
 
 XXIII. THE SONG OF STEAM. 
 
 By George Washington Cutter. 
 
 HARNESS me down with your iron bands ; 
 Be sure of your curb and rein ; 
 For I scorn the power of your puny hands, 
 
 As the tempest scorns a chain. 
 How I laughed as I lay concealed from sight 
 
 For many a countless hour, 
 At the childish boast of human might, 
 And the pride of human power! 
 
 When I saw an army upon the land, 
 
 A navy upon the seas. 
 Creeping along, a snail-like band, 
 
 Or waiting the wayward breeze-, 
 When I marked the peasant faintly reel 
 
 With the toil which he daily bore, 
 As he feebly turned the tardy wheel, 
 
 Or tugged at the weary oar; 
 
 When I measured the panting courser's speed. 
 
 The flight of the courier dove. 
 As they bore the law a king decreed, 
 
 Or the lines of impatient love, — 
 I could not but think how the world would feel, 
 
 As these were outstripped afar, 
 When I should be bound to the rushing keel. 
 
 Or chained to the flying car. 
 
 Ha, ha ! they found me out at last ; 
 They invited me forth at length ; 
 
126 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 And I rushed to my throne with a thunder-blast, 
 And laughed in my iron strength. 
 
 Oh, then ye saw a wondrous change 
 On the earth and the ocean wide, 
 
 Where now my fiery armies range, 
 Nor wait for wind and tide. 
 
 Hurrah ! hurrah ! the waters o'er 
 
 The mountain's steep decline; 
 Time — space — have yielded to my power; 
 
 The world — the world is mine ! 
 The rivers the sun hath earliest blest, 
 
 Or those where his beams decline; 
 The giant streams of the queenly West, 
 
 And the Orient floods divine. 
 
 The ocean pales where'er I sweep — 
 
 I in my strength rejoice ; 
 And the monsters of the briny deep 
 
 Cower, trembling, at my voice. 
 I carry the wealth and the lord of earth. 
 
 The thoughts of his god-like mind; 
 The wind lags after my going forth. 
 
 The lightning is left behind. 
 
 In the darksome depths of the fathomless mine 
 
 My tireless arm doth play, 
 W^here the rocks never saw the sun decline. 
 
 Or the dawn of the glorious day. 
 I bring earth's glittering jewels up 
 
 PVom the hidden caves below, 
 And I make the fountain's granite cup 
 
 With a crystal gush o'erflow. 
 
THE SONG OF STEAM. . 
 
 127 
 
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128 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 I blow the bellows, I forge the steel, 
 
 In all the shops of trade; 
 I hammer the ore, and turn the wheel, 
 
 Where my arms of strength are made; 
 I manage the furnace, the mill, the mint; 
 
 I carry, I spin, I weave; 
 And all my doings I put into print 
 
 On every Saturday eve. 
 
 I 've no muscle to weaiy, no breast to decay. 
 
 No bones to be ''laid on the shelf," 
 And soon I intend you may "go and play," 
 
 While I manage this world myself. 
 But harness me down with your iron bands. 
 
 Be sure of your curb and rein ; 
 For I scorn the power of your puny hands, 
 
 As the tempest scorns a chain! 
 
 XXIV. THE DISCONTENTED PENDULUM. 
 
 By Jane Taylor. 
 
 AN old clock that had stood for fifty years in a farmer's 
 kitchen, without giving its owner any cause of com- 
 plaint, early one summer morning, before the farmer was 
 stirring, suddenly stopped. 
 
 At this the dial plate changed countenance with alarm. 
 The hands made a vain effort to continue their course. 
 The wheels stood still with surprise. The weights hung 
 speechless. 
 
 At last the dial determined to find out where the trouble 
 
THE DISCONTENTED PENDULUM. 129 
 
 lay : hands, wheels, and weights, with one voice, said they 
 were innocent. 
 
 Soon a faint tick was heard below from the pendulum, 
 who thus spoke : " I confess that I am the sole cause of this 
 stoppage; and I am willing to tell you why I have acted 
 thus. The truth is, that I am tired of ticking." 
 
 " Lazy wire ! " exclaimed the dial plate, holding up its 
 hands. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " replied the pendulum, " it is vastly easy for 
 you. Mistress Dial, who have always, as everybody knows, 
 set yourself above me, — it is vastly easy for you to accuse 
 other people of laziness ! What have you done all the days 
 of your life but stare people in the face, and amuse your- 
 self with all that goes on in the kitchen ? How would you 
 like to be shut up -for life in this dark closet, wagging 
 backwards and forwards year after year, as I do?" 
 
 " As to that," said the dial, " is there not a window in 
 your house, on purpose for you to look through?" 
 
 "For all that," answered the pendulum, "it is very "dark 
 here ; and although there is a window, I dare not stop 
 even for an instant to look out. Besides, I am really tired 
 of my way of life ; and if you wish, I '11 tell you how I 
 became so." 
 
 "Go on," said the dial. 
 
 "Well, I happened this morning to be calculating how 
 many times I should have to . tick in the course of merely 
 the next twenty-four hours. Perhaps some of you above 
 there can give me the exact sum." 
 
 The minute-hand, being quick at figures, at once answered, 
 " Eighty-six thousand four hundred times." 
 
 " Exactly so," replied the pendulum. " Now I appeal to 
 
 you all, if the very thought of this was not enough to tire 
 3 0— r)R 
 
180 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 one out. But when I began to multiply the strokes of one 
 day by those of months and years, it is really no wonder if 
 I felt utterly discouraged ; so this morning, thinks I to my- 
 self, I '11 stop." 
 
 The dial could scarcely keep a straight face during this 
 speech ; but, resuming its gravity,^ thus replied : " Dear 
 Ml". Pendulum, I am really astonished that such a useful, 
 industrious person as yourself should have acted so hastily. 
 It is true you have done a great deal of work in your time, 
 and so have we all, and we are likely to do a great deal 
 more. Now, although it may fatigue us to think of this 
 work, the question is whether it will fatigue us to do it. 
 Would you now favor me with about half-a-dozen strokes to 
 illustrate my argument ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said the pendulum, — and ticked six times 
 at its usual rate. 
 
 "Now," went on the dial, "may I ask if that exertion 
 was at all fatiguing or disagreeable to you ? " 
 
 ." Not in the least," replied the pendulum ; " it is not of 
 six strokes that I complain, nor of sixty, but of millions ! " 
 
 " Very good," said the dial ; " but remember that though 
 you may think of a million strokes in an instant, you are re- 
 quired to execute but one ; and that, however often you may 
 hereafter have to swing, a moment will always be given you 
 to swing in." 
 
 " That idea staggers ^ me, I confess," said the pen- 
 dulum. 
 
 " Then I hope," observed the dial plate, " that we shall all 
 immediately return to our duty ; for the servants will lie in 
 bed as long as we stand idling thus." 
 
 * grav'i-ty, soberness ; seriousness. 
 
 * stag'gers, causes to doubt ; overcomes. 
 
THE FIRST SHIP OF PETER THE GREAT. 131 
 
 Thereupon the weights, which never had been accused of 
 light conduct, used all their influence in urging him to pro- 
 ceed. Well, the pendulum was obliging enough to begin 
 swinging, and, to its credit, ticked as loud as ever. Then 
 the wheels began to turn, and the hands to move, while a 
 red beam of the rising san that streamed through the kitchen 
 window shone full upon the dial plate, till it brightened up 
 as if nothing had been the matter. 
 
 When the farmer came down to breakfast that morning, 
 and looked at the clock, he declared that his watch had 
 gained half an hour in the night. 
 
 Adapted. 
 
 XXV. THE FIRST SHIP OF PETER THE GREAT.* 
 
 By Eugene Schuyler. 
 
 PETER THE GREAT, of Russia, while a youth, had 
 heard somewhere, that in foreign countries people had 
 an instrument by which distance could be measured without 
 moving from the spot. 
 
 When Prince Jacob Dolgoruki was about to start on his 
 mission to France, and came to take leave, Peter told him 
 of this wonderful instrument, and begged him to procure 
 him one while abroad. Dolgoruki told him that he himself 
 had once had one, which was given him as as a present, 
 but it had been stolen, and that he would certainly not 
 forget to bring one home. 
 
 1 Peter the Great was the first great ruler of Russia. He was a 
 fierce tyrant, but very wise, and it is to his efforts that Russia owes her 
 civilization ; for, before his time, she was only a half civilized country. 
 
132 
 
 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 On DolgoruKi's return in May, 1688, the first question 
 of Peter was whether he had fulfilled his promise ; and 
 great was the excitement as the box was opened and a 
 parcel, containing an astrolabe ^ and a sextant,^ was eagerly 
 unwrapped. But, alas ! when they were brought out, no 
 
 one knew the use 
 of them. Dolgoruki 
 scratched his head, 
 and said that he had 
 brought the instru- 
 ments, as directed ; 
 but it had never oc- 
 curred to him to ask 
 how they were used. 
 In vain Peter sought 
 some one who knew 
 how to use the sex- 
 tant. At last his new 
 doctor told him that 
 in the German suburb 
 he knew of a man 
 well - skilled in me- 
 chanics, Franz Tim- 
 
 V 
 
 mermann, a Dutch 
 merchant, who had 
 settled in Moscow, and who had a certain amount of edu- 
 cation. Timmermann was brought next day. He looked 
 at the instrument, and, after a long inspection, finally said 
 that he could show how it was used. 
 
 Immediately he measured the distance to a neighboring 
 
 ^ as'tro-labe, an instrument for showing the positions of the stars. 
 2 Bez'tant, an instrument for measuring angular distances. 
 
 PETER THE GREAT. 
 
THE FIRST SHIP OF PETER THE GREAT. 133 
 
 house. A man was at once sent to pace it, and found the 
 measurement correct. Peter was delighted, and asked to be 
 instructed in the use of the new instrument. Timmermann 
 said : " With pleasure ; but you must first learn arithmetic 
 and geometry." Peter at once began studying arithmetic. 
 He did not even know how to subtract or divide. 
 
 He now set to work with a will, and spent his leisure 
 time, both day and night, over his copy books. Geometry 
 
 A SEXTANT. 
 
 led to geography and fortification. The old globe of his 
 schoolroom was sent for repairs, and he had, besides, the 
 one in metal presented to his father, which is still shown in 
 the treasury at Moscow. 
 
 From this time Timmermann became one of Peter's 
 constant companions, for he was a man from whom some- 
 thing new could always be learned. A few weeks later, 
 
134 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 in June, 1688, as Peter was wandering about one of his 
 country estates, he pointed to an old building in the flax 
 yard, and asked one of his attendants what it was. 
 
 " A storehouse," replied the man, " where all the rubbish 
 was put that was left after the death of Ivan Romanoff, 
 who used to live here." 
 
 With the natural curiosity of a boy, Peter had the doors 
 opened, went in, and looked about. There in one corner, 
 turned bottom upward, lay a boat, yet not in any way like 
 those flat-bottomed, square-sterned boats which he had seen 
 on the river Moskwa. 
 
 " What is that ? " he asked. 
 
 " That is an English boat," said Timmermann. 
 
 " What is it good for ? Ws it better than our boats ? " 
 asked Peter. 
 
 " If you had sails to it, it would go not only with the 
 wind, but against the wind," replied Timmermann. 
 
 " How against the wind ? Can that be possible ? " 
 
 Peter wished to try it at once. But, after Timmermann 
 had looked at the boat on all sides, it was found to be too 
 rotten for use; it would need to be repaired and tarred, 
 and, besides that, a mast and sails would have to be made. 
 Timmermann thought at last that he could find a man 
 capable of doing this, and sent for a certain Carsten Brandt, 
 who had been brought from Holland about 1660 by the 
 Czar Alexis, for the j)urpose of constructing vessels on 
 the Caspian Sea. ^ 
 
 The old man looked over the boat, calked it, pul^ei^ the 
 mast, arranged the sail, and then launched it on the river. 
 
 There, before Peter's eyes, he began to sail up and down 
 the river, turning now to the right and then to the left. 
 Peter's excitement was intense. He called out to him to 
 
THE FIRST SHIP OF PETER THE GREAT. 135 
 
 stop, jumped in, and himself began to manage the boat 
 under Brandt's directions. 
 
 It was hard for the boat to turn, for the river was narrow, 
 and the water shallow. Peter eagerly asked where a broader 
 piece of water could be found, and was told of a small 
 lake near by. The boat was di-agged overland to the lake. 
 It went better, but still not to his satisfaction. 
 
 At last Peter found that about fifty miles away there 
 was a large lake, where he would have plenty of room to 
 sail. It was not so easy, however, for Peter to get there. 
 It was not customary for the Czars or members of their 
 family to make journeys without some recognized object, 
 and what should a boy of this age do so far away, alone ? 
 
 An idea struck Peter. It was then June, and there was 
 a great festival at the Troitsa Monastery. He asked his 
 mother's permission to go to Troitsa to attend the festival, 
 and as soon as the religious ser^dce was over, he drove as 
 fast as he could to the lake. But he soon learned that there 
 was no boat there, and he knew that it was too far to bring 
 the little English boat. Anxiously he asked Brandt whether 
 it were not possible to build some boats there. 
 
 "Yes, sire," said Brandt, "but we shall require many 
 things." 
 
 " Ah, well ! that is of no consequence," said Peter. " We 
 can have anything." 
 
 And he hastened back to Moscow with his head full of 
 visions of shipbuilding. He scarcely knew how to manage 
 it, because to engage in such a work at the lake would 
 require his living there for some time, and he knew that it 
 would be hard to bring his mother to consent to this. 
 
 At last he extorted this consent. He hastened off, to- 
 gether with Carsten Brandt and a shipbuilder named Kort, 
 
136 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 an old comrade whom Brandt had succeeded in finding at 
 Moscow. Timmermann, probably, also accompanied him. 
 
 Fast as Peter and his comrades worked together, — for he 
 had remained with them in the woods, — there was so much 
 to do in the preparation of timber, in the construction of 
 huts to live in, and in the building of a dock from which to 
 launch the boats, that it came time for Peter to return long 
 before any boat was ready, and there was no sign that any 
 could be completed before winter set in. 
 
 Peter's mother had grown anxious about her son. He 
 had been away nearly a month, and political affairs were 
 taking a serious turn. Much to his regret, therefore, Peter 
 went back to Moscow to celebrate his mother's name's-day,i 
 on September 6, leaving his faithful Dutchmen strict in- 
 junctions to do their utmost to have the boats ready by the 
 following spring. 
 
 The place chosen by Peter for his shipbuilding was on 
 the east side of the lake. The only evidence still remaining 
 of Peter's visit are the site of a church there, dedicated to 
 the Virgin of the Ships,^ and the decaying remains of some 
 piles under the water which apparently formed the founda- 
 tion of the wharf or the landing place. 
 
 The boat which Peter discovered on his estate is thought 
 by many to have been constructed in Russia by Dutch 
 carpenters in 1688, during the reign of the Czar Alexis. 
 By others, it is supposed to be a boat sent by Queen Eliza- 
 beth to the Czar Ivan the Terrible. 
 
 Ever since Peter's time it has borne the name of the 
 " Grandsire of the Russian Fleet," and is preserved with the 
 greatest care in a small brick building near the Cathedral of 
 
 1 Name's-day, feast day of the saint whose name one bears. 
 
 '^ Virgin of the Ships, a title given in Russia to the Virgin Mary. 
 
THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS. 137 
 
 Saints Peter and Paul, within the fortress of St. Petersburg. 
 In 1870, on the celebration of the two hundredth anniver- 
 sary of Peter's birth, it was one of the chief objects in the 
 great parade at St. Petersburg; and again, in 1872, it 
 was conveyed with much pomp and solemnity to Moscow, 
 where, for a time, it formed a part of a great exhibition in 
 that city. 
 
 XXVI. THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS. 
 
 By William Cullen Bryant. 
 
 THE melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year. 
 Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows 
 brown and sear. 
 Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie 
 
 dead; 
 They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread ; 
 The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the 
 
 jay, 
 
 And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the 
 gloomy day. 
 
 Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately 
 
 sprang and stood 
 In brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood ? 
 Alas ! they all are in their graves, the gentle race of flowers 
 Are lying in their lowly beds with the fair and good of 
 
 ours. 
 The rain is falling where they lie, but the cold November 
 
 i-ain 
 Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again. 
 
138 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 The windflower and the violet, they perished long ago, 
 And the brier rose and the orchis died amid the summer 
 
 glow ; 
 But on the hills the goldenrod, and the aster in the wood. 
 And the yellow sunflower by the brook, in autumn beauty 
 
 stood. 
 Till fell the frost from the clear, cold heaven, as falls the 
 
 plague on men. 
 And the brightness of their smile was gone from upland, 
 
 glade, and glen. 
 
 And now when comes the calm, mild day, as still such days 
 
 will come. 
 To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter 
 
 home ; -* 
 
 When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the 
 
 trees are still. 
 And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill. 
 The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance 
 
 late he bore, 
 And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no 
 
 more. 
 
 And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died. 
 The fair, meek blossom that grew up, and perished by my 
 
 side. 
 In the cold, moist earth we laid her, when the forest cast 
 
 the leaf, 
 And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief : 
 Yet not unmeet was it that one like that young friend of 
 
 ours. 
 So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers. 
 
GOING A-MAYING. 139 
 
 XXVII. qOING A-MAYINQ. 
 
 By Robert Herrick. 
 
 GET up^ get up^ for shame) the blooming Morn 
 Upon her wings presents the god unshorn. 
 See how Aurora ^ throws her fair 
 Fresh-quilted colors through the air; 
 Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see 
 The dew-bespangled herb and tree. 
 
 Each flower has wept, and bow'd toward the east, 
 
 Above an hour since, yet you not drest, 
 Nay : not so much as out of bed ; 
 When all the birds have matins '-^ said, 
 And sung their thankful hymns ; 't is sin, 
 Nay, profanation to keep in. 
 
 When as a thousand virgins on this day 
 
 Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May. 
 
 Rise, and put on j^our foliage, and be seen 
 To come forth, like the springtime, fresh and green, 
 And sweet as Flora.^ Take no care 
 For jewels for your gowne or hair ; 
 Fear not, the leaves will strew 
 Gems in abundance upon you ; 
 Besides, the childhood of the day has kept. 
 Against you come, some orient* pearls unwept. 
 Come, and receive them while the light 
 Hangs on the dew-locks of tlie night; 
 
 ^ Au-ro'ra, goddess of the morning. s Flo'ra, goddess of the flowers. 
 2 mat'ins, morning prayers. 4 o'ri-ent, eastern. 
 
140 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 And Titan ^ on the eastern hill 
 Retires himself, or else stands still 
 
 Till you come forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying ; 
 
 Few beads are best, when once we go a-Maying. 
 
 Come, my Corinna, come ; and, coming, mark 
 
 How each field turnip a street, each street a park 
 
 Made green, and trimm'd with trees ; see how 
 Devotion gives each house a bough, 
 Or branch; each porch, each door, ere this, 
 An ark, a tabernacle is. 
 
 Made up of whitethorn neatly interwove ; 
 
 As if here were those cooler shades of love. 
 
 And sin no more, as we have done, by staying; 
 
 But, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying. 
 
 XXVIII. AN ORDER FOR A PICTURE. 
 
 By Alice Gary. 
 
 OH, good painter, tell me true, 
 Has your hand the cunning to draw 
 Shapes of things that you never saw? 
 Aye ? Well, here is an order for you. 
 
 Woods and cornfields a little brown, — 
 
 The picture must not be over bright, — 
 ' Yet all in the- golden and gracious light 
 Of a cloud when the summer sun is down. 
 Alway and alway, night and morn. 
 Woods upon woods, with fields of corn 
 
 ^ Ti'tau, one of an ancient race of giants who were supposed to have 
 inhabited and controlled the earth before men. 
 
AN ORDER FOR A PICTURE. 141 
 
 Lying between them, not quite §eaj^ 
 And not in the full, thick, leafy bloom. 
 When the wind can hardly find breathing room 
 
 Under their tassels, — cattle near. 
 Biting shorter the short green grass. 
 And a hedge of sumach and sassafras. 
 With bluebirds twittering all around, — 
 (Ah, good painter, you can't paint sound I). 
 
 These and the little house where I was born, 
 Low and little and black and old. 
 With children, many as it can hold, 
 All at the windows, open wide, — 
 Heads and shoulders clear outside, 
 
 And fair young faces all ablush ; 
 Perhaps you may have seen, some day, ' 
 Roses crowding the self-same way. 
 
 Out of a wilding, way-side, bush. 
 
 Listen closer. When you have done 
 
 With woods and cornfields' and grazing herds, 
 A lady, the loveliest ever the sun 
 Looked do^vn upon, you must paint for me ; 
 Oh, if I only could make you see 
 
 The clear blue eyes, the tender smile. 
 The sovereign sweetness, the gentle grace, 
 The woman's soul and the angel's face 
 
 That are beaming on me all the while! 
 
 I need not speak these foolish words : 
 Yet one word tells you all I would say, — 
 She is my mother: you will agree 
 That all the rest may be thrown away. 
 
143 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Two little urchins at her knee 
 You must paint, sir, one like me, — 
 
 The other with a clearer brow, 
 And the light of his adventurous eyes- 
 Flashing with boldest enterprise : 
 At ten years old he went to sea, — 
 
 God knoweth if he be living now, — 
 He sailed in the good ship " Commodore," 
 Nobody ever crossed her track 
 To bring us news, and she never came back. 
 
 Ah, it is twenty long years and more. 
 
 Since that old ship went out of the bay 
 With my great-hearted brother on her deck: 
 I watched him till he shrank to a speck. 
 
 And his face was toward me all the way. 
 Bright his hair was, a golden brown. 
 
 The time we stood at our mother's knee; 
 That beauteous head, if it did go down. 
 
 Carried sunshine into the sea ! 
 
 Out in the fields one summer night 
 
 We were together, half afraid 
 
 Of the corn-leaves' rustling, and of the shade 
 Of the high hills, stretching so still and far, 
 Loitering till after the low little light 
 
 Of the candle shone through the open door, 
 And, over the haystack's pointed top, 
 All of a tremble, and ready to drop 
 
 The first half-hour, the great yellow star, 
 That we, with staring, ignorant eyes. 
 
 Had often and often watched to see 
 
AN ORDER FOR A PICTURE. 143 
 
 Propped and held in its place in the skies 
 
 By the fork of a tall mulberry tree, 
 
 Which close in the edge of our flax field grew, — 
 Dead at the top, — just one branch full 
 Of leaves, notched round, and lined with wool, 
 
 From which it tenderly shook the dew 
 Over our heads when we came to play 
 In its handbreath of shadow day by day. 
 
 Afraid to go home, sir ; for one of us bore 
 A nest full of speckled and thin-shelled eggs, — 
 The other, a bird, held fast by the legs, 
 Not so big as a straw of wheat: 
 The berries we gave her she would n't eat, 
 But cried and cried, till we held her bill. 
 So slim and shining, to keep her still. 
 
 At last we stood at our mother's knee, 
 
 Do you think, sir, if you try, 
 
 You can paint the look of a lie ? 
 
 If you can, pray have the grace 
 
 To put it solely in the face 
 Of the urchin that is likest me ; 
 
 I thirik 't was solely mine, indeed : 
 But that 's no matter, — paint it so ; 
 
 The eyes of our mother (take good heed) — 
 Looking not on the nestful of eggs. 
 Nor the fluttering bird, held so fast by the legs. 
 But straight through our faces down to our lies, 
 And oh, with such injured, reproachful surprise ! 
 I felt my heart bleed where that glance went, as though 
 A sharp blade struck through it. You, sir, know, 
 
144 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 That you on the canvas are to repeat 
 
 Things that are fairest, things most sweet, — 
 
 Woods and cornfields and mulberry tree, — 
 
 The mother,— the lads, with their bird, at her knee: 
 
 But, oh, that look of reproachful woe ! 
 High as the heavens your name I '11 shout, 
 If you paint me the picture, and leave that out. 
 
 XXIX. OUR NORTHERN FOREFATHERS. 
 
 IN the northern part of Europe the scenery is wild and 
 rugged; there are mountains steeo and rocky, high, 
 sharp cliffs, and deep valleys. Violent storms break over 
 the land : in summer, of rain and wind, with thunder and 
 lightning; in winter, of snow and sleet. 
 
 Especially is the sea-coast grand and fierce and impressive. 
 Inlets of the sea, called fjords (pronounced fyords), have 
 broken through the rocky shores and extend far inland. 
 When the fierce storms rage over the sea, mighty waves 
 rush into these fjords and break with terrible force against 
 the steep cliffs. The winters are long and hard ; ice and 
 snow cover all the country and fierce cold wraps the land. 
 
 What is harder still to bear, it is dark nearly all winter. 
 One long night extends from autumn to spring ; the sun 
 just peeps above the horizon for a little wliile at mid-day, 
 and then sinks back again. But the summers are one long 
 day; the sun seems to move from east to west, dipping 
 below the western sky, and then to gWile along its edge 
 to the north and back again to the east. 
 
OUR NORTHERN FOREFATHERS. 145 
 
 All this is in the extreme north ; but farther south, in Nor- 
 way and Sweden, in the winters the nights are very long 
 and the days are very, very short ; and in the summers the 
 days are very long, and there is almost no night. In such a 
 country only a very strong and hardy race of men could 
 live, and such have always been those who have lived there. 
 
 Many, many yeafs ago, in this northern land lived a peo- 
 ple known as Norsemen, or Northmen ; they are the ances- 
 tors of most-Tsf us. The men were tall and finely formed, 
 with long yellow hair and flowing red beards. They were 
 strong, brave, fierce, and warlike ; they loved the raging 
 tempests and the snowbound mountains ; they loved to fight, 
 and to venture out upon the stormy seas in their little awk- 
 ward boats. Indeed, so daring were they that they sailed 
 away across the ocean, and were the first Europeans to see 
 the American continent. 
 
 -Like.vthe people of Greece, they had gods and goddesses 
 whom they worshiped, who presided over the powers of na- 
 ture. There were gods of the sky and of the sea, of thunder 
 and lightning, of spring and summer, and of all the wonders 
 of nature which their rugged land produced. 
 
 Many tales of the great deeds of these gods were told, aU 
 of wliich stood for the things they saw in nature, — such as 
 the coming of spring, the breaking down of the mountains of 
 ice, the raging of the sea, and the fierce crash of the thunder. 
 
 Some of these people lived away north in the ice-bound 
 island of Iceland, and there, during the long winter nights, 
 their poets wrote out these stories of the gods in books 
 called Eddas ; and thus they have been saved, so that we, 
 possibly the descendants of those old sea kings, may know 
 what kind of people our forefathers were, what they thought, 
 what they did, and what gods they worshiped. 
 
 11— 5r 
 
146 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 XXX. THE BEGINNING OF WORLDS. 
 
 AS told in the Eddas, there was in the beginning a great 
 unknown spirit, the All Father. The worlds did not 
 exist, but instead was a great abyss called Ginnungagap ; 
 north of this, in time, arose the world of mist, called Niflheim, 
 — a world of eternal winter, and darkness, and fog. Away 
 to the south arose a world of fire, called Muspellheim, which 
 glowed with terrible heat, while above it were fiery clouds. 
 
 From Niflheim, the land of cold, flowed great rivers into 
 the abyss. As these came to the edges, they froze and hung 
 over in vast masses of ice. Against this ice mass the great 
 heat of Muspellheim shot its beams ; this caused an ice mist 
 to arise, which finally settled down and down, until Gin- 
 nungagap was filled with white frost, or rime. 
 
 In the course of ages this grew into a great • frost giant, 
 Ymir. That Ymir might have something to eat, the All 
 Father made a cow, Audhumla, upon whose milk the giant 
 fed ; she licked the icy stones upon which there was salt ; 
 when lo, one day, as the ice melted away beneath her tongue, 
 a being like a man sprang forth, tall and straight and shapely, 
 and his name was Buri. 
 
 In time he had a son named Borr. Borr had three sons, 
 named Odin (or Odhin), Vile, and Ve ; these were the first of 
 the gods* The frost giant, Ymir, had many children, who 
 were all frost giants, and all evil like their father. Soon 
 war arose between the good gods and the wicked giants, 
 in which Ymir was. killed, and all his children but one, 
 who escaped with his wife. 
 
 . ] 
 
THE BEGINNING OF WORLDS. 
 
 147 
 
 Enoraved from a h'^ttd Verman Painting, 
 
148 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 This escape was very unfortunate for the gods, for in time 
 many more giants, descendants of these two, grew up to be 
 the enemies of the gods and to do evil in the world. 
 
 Out of the body of the giant Ymir, the gods made our 
 world, with its mountains and seas and fruitful fields, all 
 covered with the beautiful dome, the sky. In the sky they 
 set the golden stars, which were sparks taken from the land 
 of Muspellheim ; two larger sparks they took, and of them 
 made the sun and moon. These they put in golden chariots 
 with swift horses, and with charioteers to drive them through 
 the sky, — the sun by day, and the moon by night. 
 
 So the earth was made, but it had no one to till its fields 
 or woi^ its mines. Then the gods made dwarfs from the 
 mold of the earth, and set them to work the metals — iron, 
 gold, and copper — in dark caverns underground ; and they 
 made beautiful elves to flit among the clouds in the air. 
 
 One day as Odin and his two brothers were walking by 
 the sea they saw two beautiful trees, an ash and an elm, 
 growing side by side ; of the ash they made a man, and of 
 the elm a woman. Ask and Embla were the names of the 
 first man and the first woman. These were the parents of 
 all human beings. 
 
 In time there came to be nine worlds. One of them was 
 called Asgard, where the gods lived ; one was called Jbtun- 
 heim, the home of the giants ; and one was called Midgard, 
 which is the earth where man lives. 
 
 From Asgard, the home of the gods, to Midgard, the home 
 of men, a beautiful bridge was built, called Bifrost, upon 
 which the gods could come down to visit the earth. This 
 bridge was curiously made of many colors, and men called 
 it the Rainbow. Finally all the worlds were made and 
 peopled. 
 
ODIN. 149 
 
 XXXI. THE GODS. 
 
 THERE were twelve gods who lived in Asgard, most of 
 whom were Odin's children. The chief ones of these 
 gods were Odin, the father, who was god of heaven and of 
 wisdom ; Thor, the thunderer, who was god of the lightning 
 and of tempests ; Baldur, the god of light ; and Frey, the 
 god of summer and of the sun. 
 
 The names of many of our days come from these gods. 
 Tuesday is Tiwe's day, after the god Tiw, or Tyr. Wednes- 
 day is Woden's day, Woden being one name for Odin. 
 Thursday is Thor's day, and Friday is Frey's day. 
 
 There was another being living in Asgard, who was born 
 not of the gods but of the giants. In some way he became 
 the friend of Odin, and was admitted to his home ; but the 
 day when he came was a sad day for the gods, for he was 
 not good like them, but wicked like the giants, and caused 
 great suffering and evil to the gods. His name was Loki. 
 Because he found no one in Asgard to love evil like him- 
 self, he went to Giant-land to live, and married the wicked 
 giantess Angurboda. 
 
 XXXII. ODIN. 
 
 ODIN was the highest and holiest of all the gods, the 
 god of heaven and of wisdom and of victoiy, the 
 friend of all heroes. Men thought of him as tall, dignified, 
 strong, with dark, curling hair and beard, dressed in a suit 
 of gray, wearing a wide, blue cloak flecked with white, as the 
 blue sky is flecked with fleecy clouds. 
 
150 
 
 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Engraved from a noted Cicrman Paintiixj. 
 
ODIN. 151 
 
 Odin sat upon a lofty throne, wearing on his arm his 
 precious ring, Draupnir, from which dropped fruitfulness 
 upon the earth. On his shoulders sat two ravens, named 
 Memory and Thought ; they wandered over the world eveiy 
 morning, and came back at night and whispered in his eai's all 
 that they had seen and heard. At his feet crouched two 
 wolves, which he always fed with his own hand. 
 
 Odin had in Asgard three palaces. One was called 
 Gladsheim, where the gods sat in council ; one, Valaskjalf, 
 where was Odin's throne, Hlidskjalf, made of precious met- 
 als, with a footstool of pure gold. The other abode of Odin 
 was called Valhalla. 
 
 This w^as the home to which Odin welcomed all brave 
 heroes who had fallen fighting in battle, for he was the god 
 of courage, and loved these heroes. Odin had in his service 
 many beautiful maidens, called Valkyrs ; and whenever a 
 battle was waged among men, he sent these maidens down to 
 take the warriors who died upon the field bravely fighting, 
 and bring them to Valhalla ; there they were to live 
 forever. 
 
 Odin was the god of wisdom, and bestowed this great gift 
 upon men who were willing to seek. it. He was the patron 
 of culture and of heroes. Odin himself did not attain his 
 wisdom without effort and suffering. 
 
 The wife of Odin, and the queen of the gods, was 
 Frigga, who was also the supreme goddess of love. Frigga 
 was a distinct deity from Freya, with whom she is often 
 confounded. 
 
 There was in the world a great tree, the tree of life. It 
 extended from earth to heaven; its pleasant shade shel- 
 tered gods and men ; all living things could feed upon its 
 branches. Serpents gnawed at its roots ; goats gnawed at its 
 
152 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 bark ; and birds ate its leaves ; but it could not be killed. 
 The name of this tree was Ygdrasil (ig'dra-sil). It had 
 three great roots extending down to three wells, or springs. 
 One of these wells was below Jotunheim, the world of 
 giants, and was called Mimir's well because it was guarded 
 by an ancient giant named Mimir, or Memory. 
 
 He was not wicked like the other giants, but was very wise 
 and good. This well which he guarded was the fountain of 
 wisdom. Whoever drank of its waters was made wise. 
 Mimir himself remembered all the things that had ever 
 happened, and knew their causes ; he knew more even than 
 the gods, for the giants were older than the gods. 
 
 Odin, the father of the gods, wanted wisdom; and so 
 greatly did he desire it, that he was willing to make any 
 sacrifice to get it; so he went to Mimir, down under the 
 land of the giants, and said to the old giant : " Give me a 
 drink of the clear water from your well." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Mimir, " this water is never given to any 
 except for a great price ; you must be willing to give up the 
 most precious thing you possess before you can drink from 
 Mimir's fountain." 
 
 But this did not disturb Odin; he must drink from the 
 fountain of wisdom at whatever cost, so he said ; *' I will 
 give you whatever you ask." 
 
 Mimir looked at him, admiring his courage, and at length 
 said : " If you would drink, you must leave with me one 
 of your eyes." 
 
 The price was great ; but Odin quickly paid it, drank his 
 draught of wisdom, and went away to Asgard, having but 
 one eye, but the wisdom which he so much desired ; and 
 since that time many men have been willing to give all they 
 possessed for wisdom. 
 
THOR. 153 
 
 XXXIII. THOR. 
 
 THOR was the god of thunder. He was the strongest 
 warrior among the gods, and the enemy of the giants, 
 against whom he defended Asgard. He lived in a wonder- 
 ful palace called Zilskinir, or Lightning. It was the largest 
 palace in Asgard; it had five hundred and forty halls, 
 immense in size, and many great doors. 
 
 Thor rode in a chariot drawn by two goats, from whose 
 hoofs and teeth flashed sparks of fire. Upon his head he 
 wore a crown of stars. He had three very precious things. 
 The first was his mighty hammer, with which he fought the 
 frost giants. The second was his belt of strength ; when he 
 girded himself with this, his divine strength was doubled. 
 The third was his iron gauntlet; with this he grasped his 
 hammer when he wanted to fight the giants, for the hammer 
 was usually red hot, so that he could not grasp it with his 
 naked hand. 
 
 Thor had a beautiful wife called Sif. He loved her very 
 dearly, and admired her beauty. Especially did he admire 
 her long golden hair, which hung in graceful ringlets dowQ 
 her back. 
 
 One day when Thor was absent from home, Loki, the evil 
 one, happened to pass by the place where Sif was sleeping, 
 her beautiful hair spread out upon the couch. The spirit of 
 mischief seized Loki, and, out of spite, he softly crept in and 
 cut off all of Sif s golden locks. 
 
 When Sif awakened, she was overwhelmed with grief 
 and hid herself, so that Thor might not see her without her 
 hair. / 
 
 / 
 
 -f. 
 
154 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 When Thor came home he called for Sif, but she did not 
 answer ; then he searched the palace until he found her. 
 When he saw what had been done to her, he was filled with 
 rage, and at once suspected that the wicked Loki had done 
 the mischief, and hastened out to find him. Terrible in his 
 anger, with long strides he hurried to Asgard. 
 
 When Loki heard Thor coming, he was dreadfully fright- 
 ened, and tried to escape by changing himself into a salmon 
 and leaping into the water ; but Thor saw him, and changed 
 himself to a sea gull, and seized the fish in his beak. Then 
 both were changed back to their natural shapes, and Thor 
 had the wicked Loki in his hand. 
 
 He was about to kill him in his rage ; but Loki begged for 
 his life, and said that if it were spared he would secure from 
 the dwarfs another head of hair more beautiful than the 
 former, and that he would also bring Thor a better hammer 
 than his old Mjollnir (myeVnir), which Thor had- lost. 
 
 On this promise he released the culprit, and Loki hastened 
 away to the dark caverns underground where dwelt the 
 dwarfs. Here he found them working at their forges, sur- 
 rounded by heaps of precious metals and beautiful gems. 
 He asked a dwarf named Davalin to make not only hair for 
 Sif, but also a present for Odin and for Frey, who were 
 angry with him. 
 
 The dwarf consented, and quickly made of pure gold the 
 hair for Sif ; he also made for Odin a wonderful spear which 
 should never miss its aim ; and for Frey, a ship which 
 could sail in air as well as in water, and was so elastic 
 that although it was large enough to hold the gods and 
 all their steeds, it could be folded up and put in one's 
 pocket. — 
 
 When Loki saw the wonderful things that the dwarf had 
 
TiHOR. 
 
 165 
 
 After noted German Painting. 
 
 THOR. 
 
 " Thor rode in a chariot drawn hi/ two goats, from whose hoofs and teeth 
 flashed sparks ofjire. . . . He had three very precious things : the Jfrst was 
 his mighty hammer . . . ; the second, his belt of strength . . . ; the third, his 
 iron gauntlet." {Page 153.) 
 
166 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 made, he declared that Davalin was the most clever of all 
 smiths ; but Brock, another dwarf, hearing what Loki said, 
 declared that his brother Sindri could make three things 
 better than those which Davalin had made. 
 
 Loki immediately challenged him to do it, wagering his 
 head against Brock's that he could not. Sindri at once 
 went to work. He threw some gold into the fire and went 
 out, leaving Brock to blow the bellows. Loki, who wanted 
 him to fail, changed himself to a gadfly and stung Brock's 
 hand. 
 
 Although it hurt him cruelly. Brock did not let go ; and 
 when Sindri returned he drew out of the fire an enormous 
 wild boar with golden bristles, which could travel through 
 the sky with wonderful speed, lighting the whole world as 
 it passed. 
 
 Then Sindri threw some more gold into the fire, and left 
 Brock to blow the bellows. This time the gadfly stung 
 him on the cheek, where the hurt was greater than before ; 
 but still Brock did not let go, and when Sindri returned he 
 drew out of the flames a magic riQg from which eight other 
 rings dropped. 
 
 Then he cast into the fire a lump of iron, and again left 
 Brock to blow the bellows. This time Loki, fearing he 
 would lose his wager, stung Brock upon the eye. Brock 
 quickly raised his hand and struck off the gadfly. When 
 Sindri returned he drew out from the fire a wonderful 
 hammer, but the handle was a little too short. This was 
 because Brock had dropped the bellows an instant to brush 
 away the fly. , 
 
 Then Loki and Brock went up to Asgard to present their 
 gifts to the gods, and to let them decide who had done the 
 better work, Davalin or Sindri. 
 
THOR. 157 
 
 Loki gave the spear to Odin, the ship to Frey, and the 
 golden hair to Thor, who placed it upon the head of Sif, 
 where at once it grew, and all declared that it was more 
 beautiful than that which she had lost. 
 
 Then Loki brought out the gifts that Brock had made. 
 The boar with golden bristles he gave to Frey, the god of 
 the sun, that he might ride upon it through the sky and 
 thus light the world. 
 
 The ring Draupnir, he gave to Thor. Thor gave it to 
 Odin, who ever after wore it on his arm, and from it other 
 rings laden with fruitfulness dropped upon the ea>th. 
 
 The hammer Thor kept himself, that he might use it in 
 his battles with the giants. The dwarfs, by magic, had 
 given it such power that wherever Thor hurled it, it came 
 back of its own accord to his hand. It was so wonderful 
 that all the gods declared that Sindri's work was better than 
 that of Davalin. 
 
 Brock then demanded Loki's head, which he had wagered. 
 The gods all said this was right; but Loki, frightened, ran 
 away. Thor, however, caught him and brought him back. 
 Loki then said to Brock, " You may have my head, but you 
 must not touch my neck, for that was not in the wager.'* 
 
 So Brock was cheated out of his wager ; but that he might 
 punish Loki, he borrowed his brother Sindri's awl, and sewed 
 Loki's lips together, for Loki talked too much. Then Brock 
 went back to his place among the dwarfs. The gods all 
 laughed at Loki with his mouth sewed up ; but after a time 
 he managed to cut the thread, and soon was talking as much 
 as ever. 
 
 The following description of Thor is taken from the 
 poet Longfellow's " The Saga of King Olaf " : — 
 
158 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 I am the God Thor, 
 I am the War God, 
 I am the Thunderer: 
 Here in my Northland, 
 My fastness and fortress, 
 Reign I forever. 
 
 Here amid icebergs 
 Rule I the nations. 
 This is my hammer, 
 MjoUnir the mighty; 
 Giants and sorcerers 
 Cannot withstand it: 
 
 These are the gauntlets 
 Wherewith I wield it, 
 And hurl it afar off; 
 This is my girdle; 
 W^henever I brace it, 
 Strength is redoubled. 
 
 The light thou beholdest 
 Stream through the heavens, 
 In flashes of crimson, 
 Is but my red beard 
 Blown by the night wind. 
 Affrighting the nations. 
 
 Jove is my brother; 
 Mine eyes are the lightning; 
 The wheels of my chariot 
 Roll in the thunder; 
 The blows of my hammer 
 Ring in the earthquake. 
 
LOKI AND HIS CHILDREN. 169 
 
 XXXIV. LOKI AND HIS CHILDREN. 
 
 LOKI lived in Giant-land many years, rejoicing in evil 
 deeds. There were born to him three children, — 
 wicked Hela (called Smoky-locks), ugly Jormungand with 
 the body of a serpent, and fierce Fenris in the shape of a 
 wolf. 
 
 These children grew very strong to do evil, because they 
 were always busy in evil ways, even in their play. At last 
 Odin, the good and wise, looked down from Asgard and 
 saw their wicked strength. " This must not be," he said, 
 with a grave face. " Loki's children will fill the world with 
 evil if I do not stay them." 
 
 So Odin hastened to Giant-land. He looked upon wicked 
 Hela, and banished her to the under world , of darkness. 
 The ugly serpent he threw into the sea, where its huge body 
 encircled the earth, lashing the water into angry foam. But 
 because fierce Fenris was so strong, Odin spared him. 
 " Perhaps he may become strong to do good, if he lives 
 with the gods," Odin said. So he took Fenris to Asgard. '■ 
 
 How strange to hear in Asgard's streets the footfall of a 
 wolf ! Her walls had echoed the stories of brave deeds and 
 songs of heroes, but never before a wolf's howl. Would the 
 strange newcomer learn to be like the gods ? Would he 
 forget evil, and use his strength for good ? 
 
 When Odin returned with Fenris to Asgard, he looked 
 among the hero-gods for one who should care for the wolf- 
 demon. They saw his question in his face. Brave Tyr 
 sprang to answer it. " Father Odin," he cried, " I delight in 
 strength; and I care not if my task is hard or dull. Let 
 me care for this fierce fellow." 
 
160 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 So Fenris became Tyr's charge. He fed him with sheep 
 and oxen, and took him with him upon his journeys. But 
 Fenris did not learn the ways of the gods. His face grew 
 more savage and cruel ; his great muscles were like iron, and 
 his teeth stronger than tried steel. 
 
 One night as Odin sat with the hero-gods at supper, he 
 heard huge Fenris gnash his teeth, impatient to be fed. 
 The Allwise looked upon the beast, and his grand face 
 became sad. When the supper was ended, he called a 
 council of the gods. 
 
 " Sons," he said, " I have looked upon Fenris's face and 
 seen his evil strength ; I can see no love in his fierce eyes. 
 No thought of good has tempered his fierce voice ; no feel- 
 ing of gentleness has been born in his cruel heart. But 
 daily his wicked strength becomes greater. We must bind 
 him, or he will destroy us." Gravely the heroes listened. 
 They were wise and strong. They had overcome giants and 
 leveled mountains. Was evil Fenris more than these ? 
 
 " Come with me," said Thor the mighty, breathing joy- 
 fully as he thought of the work before him. " I will forge a 
 chain that will hold the brute fast." 
 
 The gods followed Thor to his anvil, and watched all night 
 as he dealt mighty blows upon the molten iron, sending the 
 sparks like shooting stars into the darkness of the night. 
 When morning came the strong chain was finished. Who 
 could defy its massive links? Now would the gods be safe 
 from the fangs' of the wolf. '' Come, Fenris," called Thor, 
 " you are strong as the giant. Let us see you break this 
 chain, which I can hardly carry." Fenris was willing 
 enough. They bound him fast with the heavy fetters ; but 
 when all was done, he stretched his huge limbs and snapped 
 the massive iron as if it were a silken thread. 
 
LOKI AND HIS CHILDREN. 161 
 
 The gods spoke no word as the wolf walked away. 
 Gravely they turned again to the smithy. Again Thor 
 toiled all night, dealing heavy blows and strong upon the 
 tempered steel. When morning came, another chain lay 
 finished on the floor, ten times stronger than the first. 
 Can Fenris escape from this also ? 
 
 Yes, as the spider's web jields itself to the touch of a 
 child, the strong links gave way before the mighty muscles 
 of the wolf. Sad and silent, the hero-gods turned away 
 from the scene. With a wicked leer Fenris looked after 
 them ; then his voice rose in a howl of fiendish malice and 
 delight. 
 
 That night a dark cloud hung over the fair city of As- 
 gard. The hero-gods sat at their council table, and talked 
 of the evil strength that was in their midst. All faces Avere 
 sad and stern ; all speeches were solemn and slow. 
 
 " Great indeed is the power of evil," said Father Odin, 
 "but good is greater. Shall a beast conquer the gods?" 
 And all tlie courage and might of the gods arose within 
 them as they answered, " Never ! " 
 
 They watched through the night in silence. When morn- 
 ing came Odin said, " Sons, we will call to our aid the cun- 
 ning dwarfs ; they shall help us to bind our enemy. Tyr 
 shall tell them of our need, and win their best skill in our 
 behalf." 
 
 Tyr needed no second bidding. Like an arrow from the 
 bow he sped, away from the lofty city of Asgard to 
 the dark one where the dwarfs dwelt. There, hidden in 
 the earth, they wrought with their tiny hands in gold and 
 silver and precious stones. They knew the secrets of the 
 hills, and could shape cunning and beautiful treasures in 
 their skill. 
 
 12— 5 R 
 
162 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 They heard Tyr's message, and gladly lent their skill to 
 the help of Father Odin. Three nights they wrought in 
 the darkness, and then they brought to Tyr a delicate chain 
 that might have been spun from cobweb. 
 
 " Here is thy chain, O Tyr," they said. " Fierce Fenris 
 cannot escape its bands." 
 
 Tjrr hastened to Asgard with his treasure. Again the 
 heroes met and called Fenris to test his strength. "We 
 cannot break this chain," they said to him ; " will you try 
 your strength again ? " 
 
 The brute saw the delicate strands, and feared. Yet he 
 would not seem to be afraid. 
 
 " If one of you will place his hand in my mouth, that 
 there may be fair play, I will let you bind me," he said. 
 
 The heroes looked in one another's faces. Who would 
 do what the wolf asked ? 
 
 Brave Tyr stepped forward, and placed his arm in the 
 wolf's mouth. The tiny chain was bound about Fenris. 
 He rose to stretch himself and shake off the threads ; but 
 they tightened and strengthened about him. With a roar 
 he gnashed his great teeth together. He was bound fast. 
 But Tyr stood before the hero-gods without his brave right 
 arm. 
 
 Then a mighty shout was heard in Asgard. Again and 
 again they sang, " Glory be to Tyr forever ! For he has 
 given his brave right arm to save the gods from evil." 
 The shout was echoed from the mountains, and it rang 
 through the caves of the dwarfs. "The chain of the 
 dwarfs is mighty," they said; "but mightier is the bi-ave 
 heart of Tyr." 
 
 <^ 
 
IDUN'S APPLES. 163 
 
 XXXV. IDUN'S APPLES. 
 
 THE gods never grew old, but were always young and 
 strong and fair. The secret of their youth was in 
 Idun's Apples, which this goddess kept very carefully ia a 
 jar. Every morning the gods ate some of the apples, and so 
 lost all traces of age. Hence they valued these apples very 
 highly indeed. 
 
 Once, through Loki's mischief, they came near losing the 
 precious fruit. Three of the gods, Odin, Loki, and Hoenir, 
 were one day traveling together ; their journey was long, and 
 at length they were becoming hungry, when they reached a 
 peaceful valley where herds of cattle were grazing. 
 
 So they killed an ox for supper, and put the flesh in a 
 great pot to boil ; but boil it as long as they would, they 
 could not cook it. Every time they took up the lid to try 
 the meat, they found it as raw as when they first put it in. 
 Astonished at this, they stood wondering what to do, when 
 they heard a voice calling to them from overhead ; looking 
 up, they saw a great eagle in a tree. The eagle said, " If 
 you will promise to give me all the meat I need for supper, 
 your ox shall speedily be cooked." They promised, and 
 soon the flesh was all well cooked. 
 
 The eagle then flew down to get his share, and seized 
 hungrily a leg and two shoulders of the ox. Loki was so 
 enraged at the eagle's greed that he picked up a pole and 
 began to beat the bird upon the back, when a strange thing 
 happened. The pole having ^ruck the eagle's back would 
 not come away from it, nor could Loki let go his hold. 
 
 Then the eagle flew away, dragging poor Loki after him 
 
164 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 over rocks and woods and mountains, until he was half 
 dead. Then Loki knew that it was not an eagle at all, but 
 a wicked giant named Thiassi, who had dressed himself as 
 an eagle that he might capture Loki. 
 
 The wily god, caught by a trick like some of his own, 
 screamed and howled and begged the giant to let him go. 
 Thiassi said that he would never let him go unless he 
 promised to bring Idun's Apples to him. Loki readily 
 promised, — it was always easy for him to promise, — and, 
 glad to be free, he hurried back toward Asgard. 
 
 It was no easy task to get the apples, for I dun guarded 
 them with great care, and would never willingly give them 
 up; so Loki planned to get them by a trick. 
 
 He told I dun that, in a forest not far from her palace, he 
 had found some apples growing even better than hers, and 
 persuaded her to take her jar of apples and go with him to 
 the forest, to compare her fruit with that which he htid 
 found. 
 
 No sooner had Idun reached the forest outside the walls, 
 than the giant Thiassi, clad in liis eagle's feathers, swooped 
 down upon her and carried her off, with her apples, to his 
 abode. 
 
 The gods not having these precious apples to eat soon 
 began to lose their youth, and to look old and wrinkled and 
 gray. They were in sore distress ; so they gathered in their 
 judgment hall, and asked one another who had last seen 
 Idun. 
 
 When they learned that she had last been seen going out 
 of Asgard with Loki, they knew that he had caused them 
 all this evil. So Loki was seized and brought into tlieir 
 midst ; then they threatened him with a terrible death unless 
 he brought back Idun and her apples. 
 
BALDUR. 165 
 
 Loki, greatly frightened, promised to do as he was bid, if 
 Freya, the goddess of fruitf uhiess, would lend him her falcon 
 dress. Putting this on, he flew away to Jotunheim. There 
 he found Idun, who was very unhappy in her captivity, and 
 who gladly consented to go back with him. 
 
 Just then they saw Thiassi, who had been out fishing, 
 coming home. Loki at once changed Idun to a nut, seized 
 her in his claws, and flew away as fast as he could toward 
 Asgard. Thiassi saw him going, and, quickly putting on his 
 eagle dress, hurried after him. 
 
 The gods, who were looking anxiously over the walls of 
 Asgard, saw a falcon flying toward them with an eagle in 
 pursuit, almost overtaking him. Recognizing the falcon as 
 Loki, and the eagle as Thiassi, they placed firewood on the 
 walls, and as soon as Loki had glided over, lighted the fires. 
 Thiassi was flying so fast that he could not stop, but flew 
 straight into the fire. His wings were burned, and he fell 
 down in the midst of Asgard, where the gods soon put an 
 end to the wicked giant. 
 
 Idun was eagerly welcomed home, and the gods, having 
 again their precious apples to eat, soon lost all traces of age 
 and became once more young and strong and beautiful. 
 
 XXXVI. BALDUR. 
 
 13 ALDUR was the god of light. He was the fairest and 
 ■*-^ best beloved of all the gods. His face was always 
 beaming with kindness and love. Wherever he went among 
 gods or men, all felt his presence and began to feel more 
 kindly toward one another and to love truth, which is to 
 
166 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 life what light is to the world. All beings loved him but 
 Loki. Loki hated him for his very goodness. 
 
 Baldur's palace, built of the azure of the sky and the clear 
 crystal of the water, was the home of peace and purity; 
 nothing evil or unclean could enter it. Here he lived with 
 his lovely wife Nanna in perfect happiness. 
 
 But one day the gods noticed that Baldur's face was sad ; 
 they had never seen it so before, and wondered what was 
 the cause. When asked, he told them that he was troubled 
 by his dreams, and feared that his life was in danger. 
 Whereupon Frigga, his mother, traveled through the world, 
 and made everything which she saw swear that it would 
 not injure Baldur. 
 
 She visited fire, water, iron, and all the metals, diseases, 
 birds, beasts, and poisons, and they all gladly swore that 
 they would not hurt Baldur. 
 
 The gods believed that these oaths made Baldur safe, 
 and they rejoiced again ; they even invented a game to con- 
 vince Baldur that he could not be hurt. They persuaded 
 him to stand up in their midst while they threw at him all 
 their weapons and every hurtful thing, but none of them 
 injured him. 
 
 They amused themselves in this way for many days. 
 Wicked Loki was very angi*y when he heard that all things 
 had sworn not to injure Baldur; so he dressed himself up as 
 an old woman, and went to visit Frigga, Baldur's mother. 
 
 He talked with her about the wonderful game the gods 
 were playing, and pretended to be surprised that Baldur was 
 not hurt ; but Frigga told him about the promise that all 
 things had made. " What! have all things promised not to 
 injure Baldur?" asked the old woman. "Yes," said Frigga, 
 ** all but one little plant which grows beyond Valhalla, and 
 
BALDUR. 
 
 167 
 
 
 After noted German Painting. 
 
 BALDUR. 
 
 " Baldur was the yod of light. He was the fairest and best beloved of all the 
 gods." {Page 165.) 
 
168 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 is called the mistletoe, which is so little that I did not think 
 it worth while to ask it." 
 
 This was what Loki wanted to hear. He took his leave 
 of Frigga, removed his old woman's dress, and hurried to 
 the spot beyond Valhalla where the mistletoe grew. 
 
 He broke off a twig, and by magic made a spear of it. 
 This he took with him to Asgard, where he found the gods 
 throwing their weapons at Baldur. 
 
 Now Hodur, one of the gods, was blind. When Loki 
 went to him and asked him why he threw nothing at 
 Baldur, "Because I am blind," he answered, "and can- 
 not take aim." — " But," said Loki, " you ought to throw 
 something, too, in honor to Baldur." Hodur replied, " I 
 have nothing to throw." Loki then put into his hand his 
 mistletoe spear, aimed it for him, and told him to hurl it. 
 
 Hodur, not suspecting any evil, did as he was told. 
 The spear flew from his hand, struck the beautiful Baldur, 
 pierced him through, and he fell dead. 
 
 Great indeed was the grief of the gods. Their best 
 beloved Baldur had fallen. Never had such sorrow fallen 
 upon Asgard. For the fii'st time, w^eeping and mourning 
 were heard in the home of the gods. 
 
 After they had recovered from the first shock of grief, 
 they tenderly took up Baldur's body and bore it to the sea- 
 shore, where they placed it on his own ship. His wife 
 Nanna was so grieved by his death that her heart was 
 broken, and she died too. They laid her beside her hus- 
 band on the ship ; this they burned while Tl^or blessed it 
 with his hammer. Thus Baldur, best of all the gods, was 
 lost to Asgard. 
 
 After the funeral, Odin sent a messenger to Hela, the 
 giantess who ruled in the regions of the dead, and asked 
 
BALDUR. 169 
 
 her to release Baldur, that he might come back to Asgard. 
 Hela said she would do so if every living thing would weep 
 for him ; but if a single creature refused to weep, he could 
 not go. The gods then sent messengers to all the world, 
 asking every creature to weep for Baldur. 
 
 All consented but one old hag, who declared that only 
 with dry tears would she weep Baldur's death. But this 
 was enough ; Baldur could not be released. The messenger 
 who had begged this old hag to weep, as he was turning 
 away, saw a wicked gleam in her eye, and knew then 
 that it was Loki, who had taken this form that Baldur 
 might not live again. This the messenger reported to 
 the gods. 
 
 Then were all the dwellers in Asgard filled with fury, 
 and they vowed that Loki should be punished. This time 
 Loki was more terribly frightened than ever' before. He 
 changed his form many times, and used all his cunning to 
 escape the gods ; but it was of no avail. 
 
 Thor took him and brought him into the judgment 
 circle ; he was quickly condemned, and as a punishment 
 for his many wicked deeds, especially for having caused the 
 death of Baldur, he was bound in a cavern underground 
 upon sharp pointed rocks so that he could not move himself 
 at all. 
 
 A dreadful time came to the gods long after Baldur's 
 death ; they had war with the frost giants, and were de- 
 feated, many of them were killed, and Asgard became 
 gloomy and desolate. This is called the twilight of the 
 gods. But a better time is coming ; the giants shall be 
 overthrown, Baldur shall come back, leading his blind 
 brother Hodur, and all shall be peace and light and 
 happiness. 
 
170 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 XXXVII. DEATH OF BALDUR. 
 
 By Matthew Arnold. 
 
 MATTHEW ARNOLD, the great English poet, has 
 written a beautiful poem on the death of Baldur, 
 from which the following verses are taken: 
 
 So on the floor lay Baldur dead; and round 
 
 Lay thickly strewn swords, axes, darts, and spears, 
 
 Which all the Gods in sport had idly thrown 
 
 At Baldur, whom no weapon pierced or clove ; ^ ' 
 
 But in his breast stood fixt the fatal bough 
 
 Of mistletoe, which Loki the Accuser gave 
 
 To Hodur, and unwitting ^ Hodur threw — 
 
 'Gainst that alone had Baldur's life no charm. 
 
 And aU the Gods and all the Heroes came, 
 And stood round Baldur on the bloody floor. 
 Weeping and wailing ; and Valhalla rang 
 Up to its golden roof with sobs and cries ; . 
 And on the tables stood the untasted meats, 
 And in the horns ^ and gold-rimm'd sculls the wine. 
 And now would night have fall'n, and found them yet 
 Wailing ; but otherwise was Odin's will. 
 And thus the Father of the ages spaki : — 
 
 "Enough of tears, ye Gods, enough of wail! 
 Not to lament in was Valhalla made. 
 
 ' clove, cut in two. 
 
 2 un-wit'ting, not knowing ; unthinking. 
 
 * horns, drinking cups made of the horns of animals. 
 
DEATH OF BALDUR. 171 
 
 If any here might weep for Baldur's death, 
 I most might weep, his father; such a son 
 I lose to-day, so bright, so loved a God. 
 But he has met that doom, which long ago 
 The Nornies,^ Avlien his mother bare him, spun, 
 And fate set seal, that so his end must be. 
 Baldur has met his death, and ye survive ■— 
 Weep him an hour, but what can grief avail? 
 For ye yourselves, ye Gods, shall meet your doom. 
 All ye who hear me, and inhabit Heaven, 
 And I too, Odin too, the Lord of all. 
 
 " But ours we shall not meet, when tliat day comes, 
 
 With women's tears, and weak complaining cries — 
 
 Why should we meet another's portion so? ' 
 
 Rather it fits you, having wept your hour, 
 
 With cold dry eyes, and hearts composed ^ and stern, 
 
 To live, as erst,^ your daily life in Heaven. 
 
 By me shall vengeance on the murderer Loki, 
 
 The foe, the accuser, whom, though Gods, we hate, 
 
 Be strictly cared for, in the appointed day. 
 
 Meanwhile to-morrow when the morning dawns, 
 
 Bring wood to the seashore to Baldur's ship, 
 
 And on the deck build high a funeral pile. 
 
 And on the top lay Baldur's corpse, and put 
 
 Fire to the wood, and send him out to sea 
 
 To burn; for that is what the dead desire." 
 
 1 Nor'nies, Fates; beings who determined and predicted what was 
 to happen. In Norse myths, as in those of Greece, the Fates were 
 described as spinning the thread of life for other beings. 
 
 2 com-posed', quieted. 8 grst, formerly. 
 
172 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 So spake the King of Gods, and straightway rose. 
 And mounted his horse Sleipnir, whom he rode; 
 And from the hall of Heaven he rode away 
 To Lidskialf, and sate upon his throne, 
 The mount, from whence his eye surveys the world. 
 And far from Heaven he turn'd his shining orbs^ 
 To look on Midgard, and the earth, and men. 
 And on the conjuring ^ Lapps he bent his gaze, 
 Whom antler'd reindeer pull over the snow; 
 And on the Finns, the gentlest of mankind, 
 Fair men, who live in holes under the ground; 
 Nor did he look once more to Ida's plain, 
 Nor towards Valhalla and the sorrowing Gods; 
 For well he knew the Gods would heed his word, 
 And cease to mourn, and think of Baldur's pyre.^ 
 
 The Gods held talk together, group'd in knots, 
 Round Baldur's corpse, which they had hither borne ; 
 
 And straight the Father of the ages said: — 
 ''Ye Gods, these terms may keep another day. 
 But now, put on your arms, and mount your steeds, 
 And in procession all come near, and weep 
 Baldur ; for that is what the dead desire. 
 When ye enough have wept, then build a pile 
 Of the heap'd wood, and burn his corpse with lire 
 Out of our sight; that we may turn from grief, 
 And lead, as erst, our daily life in Heaven." 
 
 ^ orbs, round bodies, here used for the eyes. 
 2 con'jur-ing, using magic. 
 
 * pyre, a funeral pile. The ancients used to burn the bodies of 
 their dead upon such piles, instead of burying them. 
 
DEATH OF BALDUR. 178 
 
 He spoke, and the Gods arm'd ; and Odin donn'd ^ 
 His dazzling corselet ^ and his helm^ of gold, 
 And led the way on Sleipnir ; and the rest 
 Follow'd, in tears, their father and their king. 
 And thrice in arms, round the dead they rode. 
 Weeping; the sands were wetted, and their arms. 
 With their thick-falling tears — so good a friend 
 They mourn'd that day, so bright, so loved a God. 
 And Odin came and laid his kingly hands 
 On Baldur's breast, and thus began the wail : — 
 
 " Farewell, O Baldur, bright and loved, my son ! 
 In that great day, the twilight of the Gods, 
 When Muspel's children shall beleaguer'^ Heaven, 
 Then we shall miss thy counsel and thy arm." 
 
 Thou camest near the next, O warrior Thor ! 
 Shouldering thy hammer, in thy chariot drawn. 
 Swaying ^ the long-hair'd goats with silver'd rein ; 
 And over Baldur's corpse these words didst say : — 
 
 " Brother, thou dwellest in the darksome land, 
 And talkest with the feeble tribes of ghosts, 
 Now, and I know not how they prize thee there — 
 But here, I know, thou wilt be miss'd and mourn'd. 
 For haughty ' spirits and high wraths are rife 
 Among the Gods and Heroes here in Heaven, 
 As among those whose joy and work is war; 
 And daily strifes arise, and angry words. 
 But from thy lips, O Baldur, night or day, 
 
 ' donn'd, pjit on. 
 
 2 corse'let, armor to protect the body. 
 
 3 helm, helmet; armor for the head. 
 * be-lea'guer, besiege. 
 
 '' sway'iug, guiding ; controlling. 
 
174 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Heard no one ever an injurious word 
 
 To God or Hero, but thou keptest back 
 
 The othere, laboring to compose their brawls. 
 
 Be ye then kind, as Baldur too was kind I 
 
 For we lose him, who smoothed all strife in Heaven." 
 
 But now the sun had pass'd the height of Heaven, 
 And soon had all that day been spent in wail; 
 But then the Father of the ages said : — 
 
 "Ye Gods, there well may be too much of wail! 
 Bring now the gather'd wood to Baldur's ship; 
 Heap on the deck the logs, and build the pyre." 
 
 But when the Gods and Heroes heard, they brought 
 The wood to Baldur's ship, and built a pile, 
 Full the deck's breadth, arid lofty ; then the corpse 
 Of Baldur on the highest top they laid, 
 With Nanna on his right, aiid on his left 
 Hodur, his brother whom his own hand slew. 
 
 And they set jars of wine and oil to lean 
 Against the bodies, and stuck torches near, 
 Splinters of pine- wood, soak'd with turpentine ; 
 And brought his arms, and gold, and all his stuff, 
 And slew the dogs who at his table fed. 
 And his horse, Baldur's horse, whom most he loved, 
 And threw them on the pyre, and Odin threw 
 A last choice gift thereon, his golden ring. 
 The mast they fixed, and hoisted up the sails, 
 Then they put fire to the wood; and Thor 
 Set his stout shoulder hard against the stem 
 To push the shij) through the thick sand ; — sparks flew 
 From the deep trench she plowed, so strong a God 
 
DEATH OF BALDUR. 175 
 
 Furrow'd it; and the water gurgled in. 
 
 And the ship floated on the waves, and rock'd. 
 
 But in the hills a strong east wind arose, 
 And came down moaning to the sea ; first squalls 
 Ran black o'er the sea's face, then steady rush'd 
 The breeze, and fiU'd the sails, and blew the fire. 
 And, wreathed in smoke, the ship stood out to sea. 
 Soon with a roaring rose the mighty fire. 
 And the pile crackled; and between the logs 
 Sharp quivering tongues of flame shot out, and leapt, 
 Curling and darting, higher, until they lick'd 
 The summit of the pile, the dead, the mast. 
 And ate the shriveling sails ; but still the ship 
 Drove on, ablaze above her hull with fire. 
 And the Gods stood upon the beach, and gazed; 
 And while they gazed, the sun went lurid down 
 Into the smoke-wrapt sea, and night came on. 
 
 Then the wind fell, with night, and there was calm; 
 But through the dark they watch'd the burning ship 
 Still carried o'er the distant waters on. 
 Farther and farther, like an eye of fire. 
 And long, in the far dark, blazed Baldur's pile ; 
 But fainter, as the stars rose high, it flared ; 
 The bodies were consumed, ash choked the pile. 
 And as, in a decaying winter-fire, 
 A charr'd log, falling, makes a shower of sparks — 
 So with a shower of sparks the pile fell in. 
 Reddening 1|he sea around; and all was dark. 
 
 But the Gods went by starlight up the shore 
 To Asgard, and sate down in Odin's liall 
 
176 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 At table, and the funeral feast began. 
 
 All night they ate the boar Serimner's flesh, 
 
 And from their horns, with silver rimm'd, drank mead, 
 
 Silent, and waited for the sacred morn. 
 
 XXXVIII. THE SKELETON IN ARMOR.* 
 
 By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 
 
 " QPEAK ! speak I thou fearful guest I 
 
 *--^ Who, with thy hollow breast 
 Still in rude armor drest, : 
 
 Comest to daunt me! * "•' ' 
 
 Wrapt not in Eastern balms, ., "' ' 
 
 But with thy fleshless palms 
 Stretched, as if asking alms. 
 
 Why dost thou haunt me ? '* 
 
 Then, from those cavernous ^ eyes 
 Pale flashes seemed to rise. 
 As when the Northern skies 
 Gleam in December; 
 
 1 This poem refers to the supposed visit of people from Norway to 
 this country long before the voyage of Columbus. An old round tower 
 was found standing at Newport, which was not such as any modern vis- 
 itors would have built, and many think that this was erected by these 
 early Norse visitors. Some laborers, digging at Fall River, Massachu- 
 setts, came upon the skeleton of a warrior in a strange armor, buried in 
 a sitting posture. Those who saw this skeleton thought that he was one 
 of these same Norse wanderers. The poet has used these discoveries 
 as the basis for his poem, in which he weaves a story of the buried 
 Norseman. 
 
 ^ cav'ern-ou8, hollow. 
 
THE SKELETON IN ARMOR. 177 
 
 And, like the water's flow 
 Under December's snow, 
 Came a dull voice of w£ia 
 
 From the heart's chamber. 
 
 "I was a Vi king ^ old! 
 My deeds, though manifold s. 
 No SkaldJ in song has told, 
 
 No Saga,^ taught thee ! 
 Take heed, that in thy verse 
 Thou dost the tale rehearse^. 
 Else dread a dead man's curse ; 
 
 For this I sought thee. 
 
 "Far in the Northern Land, 
 By the wild Baltic's strand, 
 I, with my childish hand. 
 
 Tamed the gerfalcon ; ^ 
 And, with my skates fast-bojinxi. 
 Skimmed the halWrozfin Sound, 
 That the poor wh impe ring hound 
 Trembled to walk on. 
 
 "Oft to his frozen lair 
 Tracked I the grisly bear, 
 While from my path the haj:e 
 Fled like a shadow ; 
 
 * Vi'king, a Norse sea-rover or pirate. These Vikings were doubtless 
 remarkable sailors, bold and courageous, and all dwellers of the coast-land 
 in Northern Europe dreaded them. 
 
 2 Skald, a bard or poet of the ancient Northmen. These bards 
 used to sing especially the tales of war and the adventures of heroes. 
 Such bards were found among all ancient peoples. 
 
 8 Sa'ga, a Norse tale or tradition. 
 
 4 ger'fal-con (jer'faw-k'n), a bird trained to hunt other birds. 
 
 l.", — 5r 
 
178 
 
 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Oft through the forest dark 
 Followed the we rewolf 's * bark, 
 Until the soaring, lark 
 
 Sang from the meadow. 
 
 " But when I older grew, 
 Joining a corsaix's crew, 
 • O'er the dark sea I flew 
 
 With the marauders .^ 
 Wild was the life we led; 
 Many the souls that sg ed. 
 Many the hearts that bled, 
 
 By our s tern orders. 
 
 " Many a wassail-bout ^ 
 Wore the long Winter out; 
 Often our midnight shout 
 Set the cocks crowing, 
 
 1 were'wolf, a person transformed into a ^Tolf. Belief in were- 
 wolves was formerly common. 2 ma-raud'ers, robbers. 
 '* was'sail-bout, a carousal, or driukiug time. 
 
THE SKELETON IN ARMOR. 179 
 
 As we the Berserk's^ tale 
 Measured in cups of_a]£^ 
 Draining the oaken pail, 
 Filled to o'erfloydttg? — 
 
 " Once as I told in glgfi^ 
 Tales of the stormy sea, 
 Soft eyes did gazo-on me, 
 
 Burning yet t ender ; 
 And as the white stars shine 
 On the dark Norway pine. 
 On that dark heart of mine 
 
 Fell their soft splendor. 
 
 "I wooed the blue-eyed maid^ 
 Yi elding , yet half afraid, 
 And in the forest's shade 
 
 Our v ows we plightei 
 Under its loosenetl vest. 
 Fluttered her little breast. 
 Like birds within their nest 
 
 By the liaiiik frighted. 
 
 "Bright in her father's hall 
 Shields gl eamed upon the wall, 
 Loud sang the minstrels all, 
 
 Ch^Liiting his glory; 
 When of old Hildebrand 
 I asked his daughter's hand, 
 Mttfc^^ did -the minstrels stand 
 
 To hear my story. 
 
 ^ Ber''serk, a half-crazed, brave warrior among the Norsemen. 
 
180 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 "While the brown ale he quaffed, 
 Loud then the champion laughed, 
 And as the wind-gusts waft 
 
 The sea-foam brightly, 
 So the loud laugh of scorn, 
 Out of those lips unshorn. 
 From the deep drinking horn 
 
 Blew the foam lightly. 
 
 "She was a Prince's child, 
 
 I but a Viking wild. 
 
 And though she blushed and smiled, 
 
 1 was discarded! 
 Should not the dove so white 
 Follow the sea mew's flight, 
 Why did they leave that night 
 
 Her nest unguarded? 
 
 " Scarce had I put to sea, 
 Bearing the maid with me, — 
 Fairest of all was she 
 
 Among the Norsemen ! — 
 When on the white sea strand. 
 Waving his armed hand. 
 Saw we old Hildebrand, 
 
 With twenty horsemen. 
 
 "Then launched they to the blast, 
 Bent like a reed each mast. 
 Yet we were gaining fast 
 
 When the wind failed us; 
 
THE SKELETON IN ARMOR. 181 
 
 And with a sudden flaw 
 Came round the gusty Skaw,^ 
 So that our foe we saw 
 Laugh as he hailed us. 
 
 "And as to catch the gale 
 
 Round veered the flapping sail, 
 
 ' Death ! ' was the helmsman's hail, 
 
 ' Death without quarter ! ' 
 Mid-ships with iron keel 
 Struck we her ribs of steel; 
 Down her black hulk did reel 
 
 Through the black water! 
 
 "As with his wings aslant, 
 Sails the fierce cormorant,^ 
 Seeking some rocky haunt. 
 
 With his prey laden, — 
 So toward the open main, 
 Beating to sea again. 
 Through the wild hurricane, 
 
 Bore I the maiden. 
 
 " Three weeks we westward bore, 
 And when the storm was o'er. 
 Cloud-like we saw the shore 
 
 Stretching to leeward ; 
 There for my lady's bower 
 Built I the lofty tower, 
 Which, to this very hour, 
 
 Stands looking seaward'. 
 
 i Ska-w, a promontory. 
 
 2 cor 'mo-rant, a gluttonous sea-bird. 
 
182 
 
 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 ^v^ 
 
 T-t:^ 
 
 ^•^ 
 
 "Tliere liveld we many ye^rs; 
 Time dried the maiden's tears; 
 She had forgot her fears, 
 She was a mother \ 
 
 OLD STONE T0WP:R, NEWPORT. 
 
 Death closed her niilil blue eyes. 
 Under that tower she lies ; 
 Ne'er shall the sun arise 
 On such another ! 
 
THE WHITE CZAR. 183 
 
 "Still grew my b osom then, 
 Still as a stagnant fenj 
 Hateful to me were men, 
 
 The sunlight hateful ! 
 In the vast forest here, 
 Clad in my w arlike gear^. 
 Fell I upon my spear, 
 
 Oh, death was g rateful ! 
 
 "Thuv-se^med with many seal's , 
 Bursting these prison bars. 
 Up to its native stars 
 
 My soul ascended ! 
 There from the flowing bowl 
 Deep drinks the warrior's soul, - 
 Skoal !^ to the Northland! skoal!'' 
 
 Thus the tale ended. 
 
 XXXIX. THE WHITE CZAR.^ 
 
 By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 
 
 DOST thou see on the rampart's height 
 That wreath of mist, in the light 
 Of the midnight moon? Oh, hist! 
 It is not a wreath of mist; 
 It is the Czar, the White Czar, 
 Batyushka!^ Gosudar!* 
 
 ^ skoal, hail ! an exclamation of good wishes. 
 
 2 The White Czar Avas Peter the Great, the first great emperor of 
 Russia. 
 
 * Bat-yuah'ka, Father dear ; a favorite name of llie Russians for 
 their emperor. 
 
 ^ Gos'u-dar, Sovereign ; a title applied to the Czar. 
 
184 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 He has heard, among the dead, 
 The artillery roll o'erhead; 
 The drums and the tramp of feet 
 Of his soldiery in the street; 
 He is awake ! the White Czar, 
 Batynshka ! Gosudar ! 
 
 He has heard in the grave the cries 
 Of his people : " Awake ! arise I " 
 He has rent the gold brocade 
 Whereof his shroud was made; 
 He is risen ! the White Czar, 
 Batyushka ! Gosudar ! 
 
 From the Volga and the Don 
 He has led his armies on. 
 Over river and morass. 
 Over desert and mountain pass ; 
 The Czar, the Orthodox Czar, 
 Batyushka ! Gosudar ! 
 
 He looks from the mountain chain 
 Toward the seas that cleave in twain 
 The continents; his hand 
 Points southward o'er the land 
 • Of Roumili ! ^ O Czar, 
 
 Batyushka ! Gosudar ! 
 
 And the words break from his lips: 
 *'I am the builder of ships, 
 And my ships shall sail these. s^a^ 
 To the PiUars of Hercules ! 2 
 
 ' Rou-mi'li (Ru-me'le), Roumelia. 
 
 2 Pillara of Hercules, the Rocks of Gibraltar, so called because 
 Hercules is said to have torn them apart, thus making the strait. 
 
THE OLD CLOCK ON THE STAIRS. 185 
 
 I say it; the White Czar, 
 Batyushka ! Gosudar ! 
 
 "The Bosphorus shall be free; 
 It shall make room for me ; 
 And the gates of its water-streets 
 Be unbarred before my fleets. 
 I say it ; the White Czar, 
 Batyushka ! Gosudar ! 
 
 "And the Christian shall no more 
 Be crushed as heretofore, 
 Beneath thine iron rule, 
 
 Sultan of Istamboul ! ^ 
 
 1 say it ; the White Czar, 
 
 Batyushka ! Gosudar ! " 
 
 XL. THE OLD CLOCK ON THE STAIRS. 
 
 By IIexry Wadsworth Loxgfellow. 
 
 SOMEWHAT back from the village street 
 Stands the old-fashioned country seat. 
 Across its a ntique portico 
 Tall poplar trees their shadows throw; 
 And from its station in the hall 
 An ancient timepiece says to all, — • 
 " Forever — never ! 
 Never — forever! " 
 
 ^ Is-tam-bour, the Turkish name for Constantinople. 
 
186 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Half-way up the stairs it stands, 
 And points and b eckons with its hands 
 From its case of mas§ix£ oak, 
 Like a monk, who, under his cloak, 
 Crosses himself, and sighs, alas ! 
 With sorrowful voice to all who pass, — 
 " Forever — never I 
 Never — forever ! " 
 
 By day its voice is low and light; 
 But in the silent dead of night, 
 Distino t as a passing footstep's fall, 
 It echoes along the vacant hall. 
 Along the ceiling, along the floor. 
 And seems to say at each chamber door, — 
 " Forever — never ! 
 Never — forever ! " 
 
 Through days of sorrow and of mirth. 
 Through days of death and days of birth, 
 Through every swift vi cissitude 
 Of changeful time, unchanged it has stood, 
 And as if, like God, it all things saw. 
 It calmly repeats these words of awe, — 
 " Forever — never ! 
 Never — forever ! " 
 
 r 
 
 In that mansion used to be 
 Free-hearted Hospitality^; 
 II is great fires up the chimney roared, 
 The stranger feasted at liis board; 
 
THE OLD CLOCK ON THE STAIRS. 
 
 187 
 
 M. GOODHAK. 
 
 THE OLD CLOCK ON THE STAIRS. 
 
188 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 But, like the skeleton at the feast, 
 That warning timepiece never c eased , — 
 " Forever — never ! 
 Never — forever!" 
 
 There groups of merry children played; 
 There youths and maidens, dreaming, strayed ; 
 O precious hours ! O golden prime, 
 And affluence of love and time ! 
 Even as a miser counts his gold. 
 These houi'^ the ancient timepiece told, — 
 " Forever — never ! 
 Never — forever ! " 
 
 From that chamber, clothed in white. 
 The bride came forth on her wedding night; 
 There in that silent room below. 
 The dead lay in its s hroud of snow; 
 And in the hush that followed the prayer 
 Was heard the old clock on the stair, — 
 " Forever — never ! 
 Never — forever ! " 
 
 All are scattered now and fled: 
 Some are married, some are dead; 
 And when I ask, with throbs of pain, 
 "Ah! when shall they alfmeet again?" 
 As in the days long since gone by, 
 That ancient timepiece makes reply, — 
 ** Forever — never ! 
 Never — forever ! " 
 
THE NORSEMEN. 189 
 
 Never here, forever there, 
 
 Where all parting, pain, and care, 
 
 And death, and time shall disappear, — 
 
 Forever there, but never here ! 
 
 The h orolog e ^ of Eternity 
 
 Sayeth this i ncessantly, ^ — 
 
 " Forever — never I 
 Never — forever I " 
 
 XLI. THE NORSEMEN.' 
 
 By John Greenleaf Whittier. 
 
 GIFT from the cold and silent Past I 
 A relic to the present cast, 
 Left on the ever-changing strand 
 Of shifting and unstable sand. 
 Which wastes beneath the steady chime 
 And beating of the waves of Time! 
 Who from its bed of primal rock 
 First wrenched thy dark, unshapely block? 
 Whose hand, of curious skill untaught. 
 Thy rude and savage outline wrought? 
 
 The waters of my native stream 
 
 Are glancing in the sun's warm beam: 
 
 ^ hor'o-loge, a timepiece. 
 
 ' in-ces'sant-ly, ceaselessly. 
 
 8 Nearly one hundred years ago a fragment of a rough statue of 
 gray stone was found on the bank of the Merrimac River. Many sup- 
 posed that it, like the Skeleton in Armor and the Round Tower at 
 Newport, was left by the early Norse visitors to this country. The 
 poet Whittier has made this statue the basis of his poem. 
 
190 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 From sail-urged keel and flashing oar 
 The circles widen to it« shore ; 
 And cultured field and peopled town 
 Slope to its willowed margin down. 
 Yet, while this morning breeze is bringing 
 The home-life sound of school-bells ringing. 
 And rolling wheel, and rapid jar 
 Of the fire-winged and steedless car. 
 And voices from the wayside near 
 Come quick and blended on my ear, 
 A spell is in this old gray stone, — 
 My thoughts are with the Past alone I 
 
 NORSE VESSELS. 
 
 A change ! — The steepled town no more 
 Stretches along the sail-thronged shore; 
 Like palace-domes in sunset's cloud, 
 Fade sun-gilt spire and mansion proud: 
 Spectrally rising where they stood, 
 I see the old, primeval wood: 
 Dark, shadow-like, on either hand 
 I see its solemn waste expand: 
 
THE NORSEMEN. 191 
 
 It climbs the green and cultured hill, 
 It arches o'er the valley's rill; 
 And leans from cliff and crag to throw- 
 Its wild arms o'er the streams below. 
 Unchanged, alone, the same bright river 
 Flows on, as it will flow forever ! 
 I listen, and I hear the low 
 Soft ripple where its waters go ; 
 I hear behind the panther's cry, 
 The wild-bird's scream goes thrilling by, 
 And shyly on the river's brink 
 The deer is stooping dow^n to drink. 
 
 But hark ! — from w^ood and rock flung back, 
 What sound comes up the Merrimac? 
 What sea-worn barks are those which throw 
 The light spray from each rushing prow ? 
 Have they not in the North Sea's blast 
 Bowed to the waves the straining mast? 
 Their frozen sails the low, pale sun 
 Of Thule's ^ night has shone upon ; 
 Flapped by the sea-wind's gusty sweep 
 Round icy drift, and headland steep. 
 Wild Jutland's ^ wives and Lochlin's daughters 
 Have watched them fading o'er the waters, 
 Lessening through driving mist and spray. 
 Like white-winged sea-birds on their way ! 
 
 1 Thu'le, the supposed northernmost point of the British Isles, which 
 formerly was often spoken of as the end of the world. 
 
 2 Jutland, a peninsula of Denmark. Denmark, Norway, and Sweden 
 are really the same land, and the people living there on the two penin- 
 .sulas are very closely related. 
 
192 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Onward they glide, — and now I view 
 Their iron-armed and stalwart crew ; 
 Joy glistens in each wild blue eye, 
 Turned to green earth and summer sky; 
 Each broad, seamed breast has cast aside 
 Its cumbering vest of shaggy hide; 
 Bared to the sun and soft warm air, 
 Streams back the Norsemen's yellow hair. 
 I see the gleam of ax and spear. 
 The sound of smitten shields I hear, 
 Keeping a harsh and fitting time 
 To Saga's chant, and Runic ^ rhyme ; 
 Such lays as Zetland's Skald has sung, 
 His gray and naked isles among; 
 Or muttered low at midnight hour 
 Round Odin's mossy stone of power. 
 The wolf beneath the Arctic moon 
 Has answered to that startling rune; 
 The Gael 2 has heard its stormy swell. 
 The light Frank ^ knows its summons well; 
 lona's * ■ sable-stoled ^ Culdee ^ 
 Has heard it sounding o'er the sea, 
 And swept, vvith hoary beard and hair. 
 His altar's foot in trembling prayer ! 
 
 ^ Ru'nic, belonging to runes. Runes were the characters in which 
 the Norse wrote their poems, and the word is also used for the poems 
 themselves. 
 
 2 Gael (gale), the early inhabitants of the Scottish Highlands. 
 
 * Frank, an early tribe of western Europe, from which the French 
 have derived their name. 
 
 * I-o'na, an island near the coast of Scotland. 
 ; ^ sable-stoled, black-robed. 
 
 * Cul-dee', an ancient priest of Scotland. 
 
THE NORSEMEN. 
 
 193 
 
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 V 
 
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194 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 'T is past, — the Vildering vision dies 
 In darkness on my dreaming eyes ! 
 The forest vanishes in air, — 
 Hill-slope and vale lie starkly bare : 
 I hear the common tread of men, 
 And hum of work-day life again : 
 The mystic relic seems alone 
 A broken mass of common stone ; 
 And if it be the chiseled limb 
 Of Berserker or idol grim, — 
 A fragment of Valhalla's Thor, 
 The stormy Viking's god of war, 
 Or Praga of the Runic lay, 
 Or love-awakening Siona, 
 I know not, — for no graven line, 
 Nor Druid mark, nor Runic sign. 
 Is left me here, by which to trace 
 Its name, or origin, or place. 
 Yet, for this vision of the Past, 
 This glance upon its darkness cast. 
 My spirit bows in gratitude 
 Before the Giver of all good, 
 Who fashioned so the human mind, 
 That, from the waste of Time behind, 
 A simple stone, or mound of earth. 
 Can summon the departed forth; 
 Quicken the Past to life again, 
 The Present lose in what hath been, 
 And in their primal freshness show 
 The buried forms of long ago. 
 As if a portion of that Thought 
 By which the Eternal will is wrought. 
 
CHARLES KINGSLEY. 
 
 195 
 
 Whose impulse fills anew with breath 
 The frozen solitude of Death, 
 To mortal minds were sometimes lent, 
 To mortal musings sometimes sent, 
 To whisper — even when it seems 
 But Memory's fantasy of dreams — 
 Through the mind's waste of woe and sin, 
 Of an immortal origin! 
 
 XLII. CHARLES KINGSLEY. 
 
 CHARLES KINGS- 
 LEY was an 
 English clergyman and 
 college professor. Be- 
 sides books for older 
 people, he wrote several 
 for boys and girls, and 
 very interesting they 
 are. He loved- nature, 
 and used to tramp over 
 the fields, observing the 
 plants and the rocks, 
 and thinking about the 
 wonderful works of the 
 Creator in making this 
 beautiful world. His 
 books for children are 
 mostly written about charles kingsley. 
 
 what he saw in the fields and woods. The selection here 
 
196 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 given is taken from a volume entitled " Madam How and 
 Lady Why," all of which is well worth reading. Charles 
 Kingsley was born in Holme, Devonshire, 1819, and died 
 at Eversley, Hampshire, in 1875. 
 
 XLIII. THE CORAL REEF. 
 
 By Charles Kingsley. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 NOW you want to know what I meant when I talked of 
 a bit of lime going out to sea and forming part of a 
 coral island, and then of a limestone rock, and then of a 
 marble statue. Very good. Then look at this stone. 
 
 What a curious stone ! Did it come from any place near 
 here ? 
 
 No. It came from near Dudley, in Staffordshire, where 
 the soils are worlds and worlds older than they are here, 
 though they were made in the same way as these and all 
 other soils. But you are not listening to- me. 
 
 Why, the stone is full of shells and bits of coral ; and 
 what are these wonderful things coiled and tangled together 
 like the snakes in Medusa's hair in the picture ? Are they 
 snakes ? 
 
 If they are, then they must be snakes who have all one 
 head ; for see, they are joined together at their larger ends ; 
 and snakes which are branched, too, which no snake ever was. 
 
 Yes, I suppose they are snakes. And they grow out of 
 a flower, too ; and it has a stalk, jointed, too, as plants some- 
 times are ; and as fishes' backbones are, too. Is it a petrified 
 plant or flower ? 
 
THE CORAL REEF. 
 
 197 
 
 No ; though I do not deny that it looks like one. The 
 creature most akin to it which you ever saw is a starfish. 
 
 What! one of the red starfishes that one finds on the 
 beach? Its arms are not branched. 
 
 No. But there are starfishes with branched arms still in 
 the sea. You know that pretty book (and learned book, too), 
 
 BRAIN CORAL. 
 
 Forbes' " British Starfishes " ? You like to look it through 
 for the sake of the vignettes,^ — the mermaid and her child 
 playing in the sea. 
 
 Oh, yes, and the king bogie, who is piping while the sand- 
 stars dance ; and the other, who is trying to pull out the 
 starfish which the oyster has caught. 
 
 Yes. But do you recollect the drawing of the Medusa's 
 head, with its curling arms, branched again and again 
 without end ? Here it is. No, you shall not look at the 
 vignettes now. First, look at this one, — the feather-star, 
 
 1 vi-gnette' (vin-yef), a decorative design. 
 
198 ^ A FIFTH READER. 
 
 with arms almost like fern fronds. And in foreign seas 
 there are many other branched starfish besides. 
 
 But they have no stalks ? 
 
 Do not be too sure of that. This very feather-star, soon 
 after it is born, grows a tiny stalk, by which it holds on 
 to corallines ^ and seaweeds ; and it is not till afterwards 
 that it breaks loose from the stalk, and swims away freely 
 into the wide water. In foreign seas there are several 
 starfish still that grow On stalks all their lives, as this fossil 
 one did. 
 
 How strange that a live animal should grow on a stalk, 
 like a flower ! 
 
 Not quite like a flower. A flower has roots, by which it 
 feeds in the soil. These things grow more like seaweeds, 
 which have no roots, but only hold on to the rock by the 
 foot of the stalk, as a ship holds on by her anchor. But 
 ,as for its being strange that live animals should grow on 
 stalks, if it be strange it is common enough, like many 
 far stranger things. For under the water are millions on 
 millions of creatures, spreading for miles on miles, building 
 up at last great reefs of rocks, and whole islands, which 
 all grow rooted first to the rock, like seaweeds ; and what 
 is more, they grow, most of them, from one common root, 
 branching again and again, and every branchlet bearing 
 hundreds of living creatures, so that, the whole creature is 
 at once one creature and many creatures. Do you not 
 understand me? 
 
 No. 
 
 Then fancy to yourself a bush like that hawthorn bush, 
 with numberless blossoms, and every blossom on that bush a 
 separate living thing, with its own mouth, and arms, and 
 ^ cor'al-line, a small coral-like animal. 
 
THE CORAL REEF. 
 
 199 
 
 stomach, budding and growing fresh live branches and fresh 
 live flowers as fast as the old ones die ; then you will see 
 better what I mean. 
 
 How wonderful ! 
 
 Yes ; but not more wonderful than your finger, for it, too, 
 is made of numberless living things. 
 
 My finger made of living things ? 
 
 What else can it be? When 
 you cut your finger, does not the 
 place heal? 
 
 Of course. 
 
 And what is healing but 
 growing again ? And how 
 could the atoms of your fingers 
 grow, and make fresh skin, if 
 they were not each of them 
 alive? There,. I will not guz- 
 zle, you with too much at once ; 
 you will know more about all 
 that some day. Only remem- 
 ber now, that there is nothing 
 wonderful in the world outside you 
 but has its co unterpart of some- 
 thing just as wonderful, and per- 
 haps more wonderful, inside you. Man is the microc^ 
 the little world, — said the phil osophers of old ; and philos- 
 ophers nowadays are beginning to see that their old guess 
 is actual fact, and true. 
 
 But what are these curious sea-creatures called, which are 
 animals, yet grow like plants ? 
 
 They have more names than I can, tell you, or you remem- 
 ber. Those which helped to make this bit of stone are 
 
 CORAL STALK AXD BRANCHES. 
 
200 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 called coral insects; but they are not really insects, and 
 are no more like insects than you are. Coral polyp s is the 
 best name for them, because they have arms around their 
 mouths something like a cuttiefisb which the ancients called 
 polypus. But the animal which you have seen likes t to 
 most of them is a sea anemone ^ 
 
 Look now at this piece of fresh coral, — for coral it is, 
 though not like the coral which your sister wears in her 
 necklace. You see it is full of pipes ; in each of those pipes 
 has lived what we will call, for the time being, a tiny sea 
 anemone, joined on to his brothers by some sort of flesh and 
 skin ; and all of them together have built up, out of the 
 lime in the sea water, this common house, or rather town, 
 of lime. 
 
 But is it not strange and wonderful ? 
 
 Of course it is ; but so is everything when you begin to 
 look into it ; and if I were to go on and tell you what sort 
 of young ones these coral polyps have, and what becomes 
 of them, you would hear such wonders that you would be 
 ready to suspect that I was inventing nonsense or talking 
 in my dreams. But all that belongs to Madam How's 
 deepest book of all, which is called the '' Book of Kind," 
 a book which children cannot understand, and in which the 
 very wisest men are able to spell out a few words only. 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 "NT OW we will go back to our story, and talk about how 
 -^ ^ it was made, and how the stalked starfish, which 
 you mistook for a flower, ever got into the stone. 
 . Then do you think me silly for thinking that a fossil star- 
 fish was a flower ? 
 
THE CORAL REEF. 
 
 201 
 
 I should be silly if I did. There is no silliness in not 
 knowing what you cannot know. You can only guess about 
 things which you have never seen before, by comparing 
 them with old things which you have seen before ; and you 
 have seen flowers, and snakes, and fishes' backbones, and 
 made a very fair guess from them. After all, some of these 
 stalked starfish 
 are so like flow- 
 ers, lilies espe- 
 cially, that they 
 are called Encri- 
 nites; and the 
 whole family is 
 called Crinoids, 
 or lily-like crea- 
 tures, from the 
 Greek word kri- 
 non^ a lily : and 
 as for coral and 
 corallines, learn- 
 ed men, in spite 
 of all their care 
 and shrewdness, 
 made mistake 
 after mistake 
 about them, 
 which they had 
 to correct again and again, till now, I trust, they have got 
 at something very like the truth. No, I shall only call you 
 silly if you do what some little boys are apt to do, — call 
 other boys, and, still worse, servants, or poor people, silly 
 for not knowing what they cannot know. 
 
 FAN CORAL. 
 
202 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 But are not poor people very silly about animals and 
 plants ? The boys at the village school say that slowworms 
 are poisonous ; is not that silly ? 
 
 Not at all. They know that adders bite, and so they 
 think that slowworms bite too. They are wrong, and they 
 must be told that they are wrong, and scolded if they kill 
 a slowworm. But silly, they are not. 
 
 But is it not silly to think that swallows sleep all winter 
 at the bottom of the pond ? 
 
 I do not think so. The boys cannot know where the 
 swallows go ; and if you told them — what is true — that 
 the swallows find their way every autumn through France, 
 through Spain, over the Straits of Gibraltar, into Morocco, 
 and some, I believe, over the great desert of the Zahara into 
 Negroland : and if you told them — what is true also — 
 that the young swallows actually find their way into Africa 
 without having been along the road before (because the old 
 swallows go south a week or two first, and leave the young 
 ones to guess out the way for themselves) -^ if you told 
 them that, then they would have a right to say, " I)o you 
 expect us to believe that? " That is much more wonderful 
 than that the swallows should sleep in the pond. 
 
 But is it?' ^ 
 
 Yes ; to them. They know that bats, and dormice, and 
 other things sleep all winter : so why should not swallows 
 sleep ? They see the swallows about the water, and often 
 almost dipping into it. They know that fishes live under 
 water, and that many insects — like May flies and caddis flies 
 and water beetles — live sometimes in the water, sometimes 
 in the open air; and they cannot know — you do not know 
 — what it is which prevents a bird living under water. So 
 their guess is really a fair one ; no more silly than that of 
 
THE CORAL REEF. 203 
 
 the savages, who when they first saw the white men's ships, 
 with their huge sails, fancied they were enormous sea birds ; 
 and when they heard the cannons fire, said that the ships 
 spoke in thunder and lightning. Their guess was wrong, 
 but not silly ; for it was the best guess they could make. 
 
 But I do know of one old woman who was silly. She 
 was a boy's nurse, and she gave the boy a tiling which she 
 said was one of the snakes that Saint Hilda turned into 
 stone, and told him that they found plenty of them at 
 Whitby, where she was born, all coiled up ; but what was 
 very odd, their heads ' had always been broken off. And 
 when he took it to his father, he told him it was only a fossil 
 shell, — an Ammonite. And he went back, and laughed at 
 his nurse, and teased her till she was quite angry. 
 
 Then he was very lucky that she did not box his ears, for 
 that is what he deserved. I dare say that, though his nui-se 
 had never heard of Ammonites, she was a wise old dame 
 enough, and knew a hundred things which he did not know, 
 and which were far more important than Ammonites, even 
 to him. - 
 
 How? 
 
 Because if she had not known how to nurse him well, he 
 would, perhaps, have never grown up alive and strong. 
 And if she had not known how to make him obey and speak 
 the truth, l^e might have grown up a naughty boy. 
 
 But was she not silly ? 
 • No. She only believed what the Whitby folk, I under- 
 stand^ have some of them believed for many hundred years. 
 And no one can be blamed for thinking as his forefathers 
 did, unless he has cause to know better. 
 
 Surely she might have known better. 
 
 How? What reason could she have to believe that the 
 
204 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Ammonite was a shell ? It is not the least like cockles, or 
 whelks, or any shell she ever saw. 
 
 What reason either could she have to guess that Whitby 
 cliff had once been coral mud at the bottom of the sea? 
 No more reason, my dear child, than you have to guess that 
 this stone had been coral mud likewise, if I did not teach 
 you so, — or, rather, try to make you teach yourself so. 
 
 No. I say it again. If you wish to learn, I will only 
 teach you on condition that you do not laugh at, or despise, 
 those good and honest and able people who do not know or 
 care about these things, because they have other things to 
 think of, like old John out there plowing. He would not 
 believe you — he would hardly believe me — if we told him 
 that this stone had once been a swarm of living things, of 
 exquisite shapes and glorious colors. And yet he can plow 
 and sow, and reap and mow, and fell and strip, and hedge 
 and ditch, and give his neighbors sound advice, and take the 
 measure of a man's worth from ten minutes' talk, and say 
 his prayers, and keep his temper, and pay his debts, — which 
 last three things are more than a good many folks can do 
 who fancy themselves a whole world wiser than John in 
 the smock frock. 
 
 Oh, but I want to hear about the exquisite shapes and 
 glorious colors ! 
 
 Of course you do, little man. A few fine epithets take 
 your fancy far more than a little common sense and common 
 humility ; but in that you are no worse than some of your 
 elders. So now for the exquisite shapes and glorious colors. 
 I have never seen them, though I trust to see them ere I 
 die. So what they are like I can only tell from what I have 
 learnt from Mr. Darwin, and Mr. Wallace, and Mr. Jukes, 
 and Mr. Gosse, and last, but not least, from one whose soul 
 
THE CORAL REEF. 205 
 
 was as beautiful as his face, Lucas Barrett, — too soon lost 
 to science, — who was drowned in exploring such a coral 
 reef as this stone was once. 
 
 Then there are such things alive now ? 
 
 Yes, and no. The descendants of most of them live on, 
 altered by time, which alters all things ; and from the 
 beauty of the children we can guess the beauty of their 
 ancestors ; just as from the coral reefs which exist now we 
 can guess how the coral reefs of old were made. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 AND what is a coral reef like ? 
 You have seen the room in the British Museum full 
 of corals, madrepores, brain stones, corallines, and sea ferns ? 
 
 Oh, yes. 
 
 Then fancy all those alive. Not as they are now, white 
 stone, but covered in jelly ; and out of every pore a little 
 polyp, like a flower, peeping out. Fancy them of every 
 gaudy color you choose. No bed of flowers, they say, can 
 be more brilliant than the corals, as you look down on them 
 through the clear sea. Fancy, again, growing among them, 
 and crawling over them, strange sea anemones, shells, star- 
 fish, sea slugs, and sea cucumbers with feathery gills, crabs, 
 and shrimps, and hundreds of other animals, all as strange in 
 shape, and as brilliant in color. You may let your fancy run 
 wild. Nothing so odd, nothing so gay, ever entered into 
 your dreams, or a poet's, as you may find alive at the bot- 
 tom of the sea, in the live flower gardens of the sea fairies. 
 
 There will be shoals of fish, too, playing in and out, as 
 strange and gaudy as the rest, — parrot fish who browse on 
 the live coral with their beak-like teeth, as cattle browse on 
 
206 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 grass ; and at the bottom, it may be, larger and uglier fish, 
 who eat the crabs and shellfish, shells and all, grinding 
 them up as a dog grinds a bone, and so turning shells and 
 corals into fine, soft mud such as this stone is partly 
 made of. 
 
 But what happens to all the delicate little corals if a storm 
 comes on ? 
 
 What indeed ? Madame How has made them so well and 
 wisely, that, like brave and good men, the more trouble they 
 suffer the stronger they grow.' Day and night, week after 
 week, the trade wind blows upon them, hurling the waves 
 against them in furious surf, knocking off great lumps of 
 coral, grinding them to powder, throwing them over the 
 reef into the shallow water inside. But the heavier the surf 
 beats upon them, the stronger the polyps outside grow, re- 
 pairing their broken houses, and building up fresh coral on 
 the dead coral below, because it is in the fresh sea-water 
 that beats upon the surf that they find most lime with 
 which to build. And as they build they form a barrier 
 against the surf, inside of which, in water still as glass, the 
 weaker and more delicate things can grow in safety, just as 
 these very Encrinites may have grown, rooted in the lime 
 mud, and waving their slender arms at the bottom of the 
 lagoon. Such mighty builders are these little coral polyps 
 that all the works of men are small compared Avith theirs. 
 One single reef, for instance, which is entirely made by 
 them, stretches along the northeast coast of Australia for 
 nearly a thousand miles. Of this you must read some day 
 in Mr. Jukes' " Voyage of H. M. S. Fly." Every island 
 throughout a great part of the Pacific is fringed round each 
 with its coral reef, and there are hundreds of islands of 
 strange shapes, and of atolls, as they are called, or ring 
 
THE CORAL REEF. 207 
 
 islands, wliich are composed entirely of coral and of nothing 
 else. 
 
 A ring island ? How can an island be made in the shape 
 of a ring ? 
 
 Ah ! it was a long time before men found out that riddle. 
 Mr. Darwin was the fii-st to guess the answer, as he has 
 guessed many an answer besides. These islands are each a 
 ring, or nearly a ring, of "coral, with smooth, sballow water 
 
 AN ATOLL, OR RING ISLAND. 
 
 inside : but their outsides run down, like a mountain wall, 
 sheer into seas hundreds of fathoms deep. People used 
 to believe, and reasonably enough, that the coral polyps 
 began to build up the islands from the very bottom of the ■ 
 deep sea. But that would not account for the top of them 
 being of the shape of a ring ; and in time it was found that 
 the corals would not build except in shallow water, twenty 
 or thirty fathoms deep at most, and men were at their 
 wits' end to find out the riddle. 
 
 Then said Mr. Darwin, " Suppose one of those beautiful 
 South Sea Islands, like Thati, the Queen of Isles, with its 
 ring of coral reef all round its shore, began sinking slowly 
 under the sea. The land, as it sunk, would be gone for 
 good and all ; but the coral reef round it would not, 
 
208 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 because the coral polyps would build up and up continually 
 upon the skeletons of their dead parents, to get to the sur- 
 face of the water, and would keep close to the top outside, 
 however much the land simk inside ; and when the island 
 had sunk completely beneath the sea, what would be left ? 
 What must be left but a ring of coral reef, around the spot 
 where the last mountain peak of the island sank beneath 
 the sea?" And so Mr. Darwin explained the shapes of 
 hundreds of coral islands in the Pacific, and proved, too, 
 some strange things besides. He proved (and other men, 
 like Mr. Wallace, whose excellent book on the East India 
 Islands you must read some day, have proved in other 
 ways) that there was a great continent, joined perhaps to 
 Australia and to New Guinea, in the Pacific Ocean, where 
 are now nothing but deep sea and coral reefs which mark 
 the mountain ranges of that sunken world. 
 
 But how does the coral ever rise above the surface of the 
 water and turn into hard stone ? 
 
 Of course the coral polyps cannot build above the high-tide 
 mark ; but the surf which beats upon them piles up their 
 broken fragments just as a seabeach is piled up, and ham- 
 mers them together with that water hammer which is heavier 
 and stronger than any you have ever seen in a smith's forge. 
 And then, as is the fashion of lime, the whole mass sets 
 and becomes hard, as you may see mortar set ; and so you 
 have a low island a few feet above the sea. The sea birds 
 come to it, and rest and build ; and seeds are floated thither 
 from far lands ; and among them almost always the cocoa- 
 nut, which loves to grow by the seashore, and groves of 
 cocoa palms grow up on the lonely island. 
 
 Then, perhaps, trees and bushes are drifted thither before 
 the trade wind ; and entangled in their roots are the seeds 
 
THE CORAL REEF. 209 
 
 of other plants, and eggs or cocoons of insects ; and so a 
 few flowers and a few butterflies and beetles set up for 
 themselves upon the new island. And then a bird or two, 
 caught in a storm and blown away to sea, finds shelter in 
 the cocoa grove ; and so a little new world is set up, in 
 which, you must remember always that, there are no four- 
 footed beasts, nor snakes, nor lizards, nor frogs, nor any 
 animals that cannot cross the sea. And on some of those 
 islands they may live (indeed there is reason to believe 
 they have lived) so long, that some of them have changed 
 their forms according to the laws of Madam How, who 
 sooner or later fits each thing exactly for the place in 
 which it is meant to live, till upon some of them you 
 may find such strange and unique creatures as the famous 
 cocoanut crab, which learned men call Birgus latro. 
 
 A great crab he is, who walks a foot high above the 
 ground, upon the tips of his toes. And because he has 
 often nothing to eat but cocoanuts, or at least they are the 
 best things he can find, cocoanuts he has learned to eat, and 
 after a fashion it would puzzle you to imitate. Some say 
 that he climbs up the stems of the cocoanut trees, and pulls 
 the fruit down for himself ; but that, it seems, he does not 
 usually do. What he does is this: when he finds a fallen 
 cocoanut, he begins tearing away the husk and fiber with 
 his strong claws ; and he knows perfectly well which end 
 to tear it from, namely, from the end where the three eye- 
 holes are, which you call the monkey's face, out of one of 
 which, you know, the young cocoanut tree would burst 
 forth. And when he has got to the eyeholes, he hammers 
 through one of them with the point of his heavy claw. So 
 far, so good; but how is he to get the meat out? He can- 
 not put his claw in. He has no proboscis like a butterfly, 
 
 15 — oR 
 
210 
 
 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 to insert and suck with. He is as badly off as the fox was 
 when the stork offered him a feast in a long-necked jar. 
 
 What then do you think he does? He turns himself 
 roimd, puts in a pair of his hind pincers, which are very 
 
 GREAT- BARR\EfL QO^IAL REEF OF AUSTRALIA. 
 
 slender, and with .them scoops the meat out of the cocoa- 
 .huV, and so put^ his dinner into his mouth Avith his hind- 
 feet. And even the cocoam*^husk he does not waste; for 
 he lives in deep burrows, which he makes like a rabbit ; and 
 being a luxurious crab, and liking to sleep soft in spite of 
 his hard shell, he lines them with a quantity of cocoanut 
 fiber^ picked out clean and fine, just as if he were going 
 to make cocoanut matting of it. And being also a clean 
 crab, as I hope you are a clean little boy, he goes down to 
 
THE CORAL REEF. 211 
 
 the sea every night to have his bath and moisten his gills, 
 and so lives happy all his days, and gets so fat in his old 
 age that he carries about his body nearly a quart of oil. 
 
 That is the history of the cocoanut crab. And if any 
 one tells me that that crab acts only on what is called 
 " instinct," and does not think and reason, just as you and 
 I think and reason, though of course not in words as you 
 and I do, then I shall be inclined to say that that person 
 does not think nor reason either. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THEX were there many coral reefs in Britain in old times? 
 Yes, many and many, again and again ; some whole 
 ages older than this, a bit of which you see, and some again 
 whole ages newer. But look : then judge for yourself. Look 
 at this geological map. Wherever you see a bit of blue, 
 which is the mark for limestone, you may say, " There is 
 a bit of coral reef rising up to the surface." But because 
 I will not puzzle your little heads with too many things at 
 once, you shall look at one set of coral reefs which are far 
 newer than this bit of Dudley limestone, and which are the 
 largest, I suppose, that ever were in this country ; or, at 
 least, there is more of them left than of any others. 
 
 Look first at Ireland. You see that almost all the middle of 
 Ireland is colored blue. It is one great sheet of coral reef 
 and coral mud, which is now called the carboniferous lime- 
 stone. You see red and purple patches rising out of it, 
 like islands, — and islands I suppose they were, of hard and 
 ancient rock, standing up in the middle of the coral sea. 
 
 But look again, and you will see that along the west 
 coast of Ireland, except in very few places, like Galway 
 
212 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Bay, the blue limestone does not come down to the sea ; the 
 shore is colored purple and brown, and those colors mark 
 the ancient rocks and high mountains of Mayo and Galway 
 and Kerry, which stand as barriers to keep the raging surf 
 of the Atlantic from bursting inland and beating away, as 
 it surely would in course of time, the low flat limestone 
 plain of the middle of Ireland. But the same coral reefs 
 once stretched out far to the westward into the Atlantic 
 Ocean; and you may see the proof upon that map. 
 
 For in the western bays, in Clew Bay with its hundred 
 islands, and Galway Bay with its Isles of Arran, and beau- 
 tiful Kenmare, and beautiful Bantry, you see little blue 
 spots, which are low limestone islands standing in the sea, 
 overhung by mountains far aloft. You have often heard 
 those islands in Kenmare Bay talked of, and how some whom 
 you know go to fish round them by night for turbot and 
 conger; and when you hear them spoken of again, you 
 must recollect that they are the last fragment of a great 
 fringing coral reef, which will in a few thousand years 
 follow the fate of the rest and be eaten up by the waves. 
 
 Now look at England, and there you will see at least 
 patches of a great coral reef which was forming at the same 
 time as that Irish one, and on which perhaps some of your 
 schoolfellows have often stood. You have heard of St. Vin- 
 cent's Rocks at Bristol, and the marble cliffs, two hundred and 
 fifty feet in height, covered in part with rich wood and rare 
 flowers, and the Avon running through the narrow gorge, 
 and the stately ships sailing far below your feet from Bristol 
 to the Severn Sea. And you may see, for here they ai'e, 
 corals from St. Vincent's Rocks, cut and polished, showing 
 too, that they also, like the Dudley limestone, are made up 
 of corals and of coral mud. Now, whenever you see St 
 
THE CORAL REEF. 213 
 
 Vincent's Rocks, as I suspect you very soon will, recollect 
 where you are, and use your fancy to paint for yourself a 
 picture as strange as it is true. 
 
 Fancy that those rocks are what they once were, a coral 
 reef close to the surface of a shallow sea. Fancy that there 
 is no gorge of the Avon, no wide Severn Sea, — for those 
 were eaten out by water ages and ages afterwards. But 
 picture to yourself the coral sea reaching away to the north, 
 to the foot of the Welsh mountains ; and then fancy your- 
 self, if you will, in a canoe, paddling up through the coral 
 reefs, north and still north, up the valley down wliich the 
 Severn now flows, up through what is now Worcestershire, 
 then up through Staffordshire, then through Derbyshire, into 
 Yorkshire, and so on through Durham and Northumberland, 
 till you find yourself stopped by the Ettrick Hills in Scot- 
 land; while all to the westward of you, where is now the 
 greater part of England, was open sea. 
 
 You may say, if you know anything of the geography of 
 England, " Impossible ! That would be to paddle over the 
 tops of mountains ; over the top of the peak in Derbyshire, 
 over the top of High Craven and Whernside and Pen-y- 
 gent and Cross Fell, and to paddle too over the Cheviot 
 Hills, which part England and Scotland." I know it, my 
 child, I know it. But so it was once on a time. The liigh 
 limestone mountains which part Lancashire and Yorkshire 
 — the very chine and backbone of England — were once 
 coral reefs at the bottom of the sea. They are all made 
 up of the carboniferous limestone, so called, as your little 
 knowledge of Latin ought to tell you, because it carries 
 the coal ; because the coalfields usually lie upon it. It may 
 be impossible to your eyes, but remember always that 
 nothing is impossible with God. 
 
214 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 But you said that the coal was made from plants and 
 trees, and did plants and trees grow on this coral reef ? 
 
 That I cannot say. Trees may have grown on the dry 
 parts of the reef, as cocoanuts grow now in the Pacific. 
 But the coal was not laid down upon it till long afterwards, 
 when it had gone through many and strange changes. For 
 all through the chine of England, and in a part of Ireland 
 too, there lies upon the top of the limestone a hard, gritty 
 rock, in some places three thousand feet thick, which is com- 
 monly called " the mill-stone grit." Now to make that 
 three thousand feet of hard rock, what must have hap- 
 pened ? The sea bottom must have sunk, slowly, no doubt, 
 carrying the coral reefs down with it, three thousand feet at 
 least ; and meanwhile sand and mud, made from the wearing 
 away of the old lands in the North, must have settled down 
 upon it. I say from the North, for there are no fossils, as far 
 as I know, or sign of life, in these rocks of mill-stone grit ; 
 and therefore it is reasonable to suppose that they were 
 brought from a cold current at the Pole, — too cold to allow 
 sea beasts to live, — quite cold enough, certainly, to kill 
 the coral insects, who could only thrive in warm water, 
 comings from the South. 
 
 Then, to go on with my story, upon the top of these mill- 
 stone grits came sand, and mud, and peat, and trees, and 
 plants, washed out to sea, as far as we can guess, from the 
 mouths of vast rivers flowing from the West, — rivers as 
 vast as the Amazon, the Mississippi, or the Orinoco are now ; 
 and so, in long ages, upon the top of the limestone, and 
 upon the top of the mill-stone grit, were laid down those 
 beds of coal which you see burnt now in every fire. 
 
 But how did the coral reefs rise till they became cliffs at 
 Bristol and mountains in Yorkshire ? 
 
THE CORAL REEF. 
 
 216 
 
 COBAX FORMATIONS. 
 
216 , A FIFTH READER. 
 
 > 
 
 The earthquake steam, I suppose, raised them. One 
 earthquake, indeed, or a series of earthquakes, there was, 
 running along between Lancashire and Yorkshire, which 
 made the vast crack and upheaval in the rocks. The Craven 
 Fault, running, I believe, for more than a hundred miles, 
 and lifting the rocks in some places several hundred feet. 
 That earthquake helped to make the high hills which over- 
 hang Manchester and Preston, and all the manufacturing 
 county of Lancashire. That earthquake helped to make 
 the perpendicular cliff at Malham Cove, and many another 
 beautiful bit of scenery. And that and other earthquakes, 
 by heating the rocks from the fires below, may have helped 
 to change them from soft coral into hard crystalline marble, 
 as you see them now, just as volcanic heat has hardened and 
 purified the beautiful white marbles of Pentelicus and Faros 
 in Greece, and Carrara in Italy, from which statues are 
 carved unto this day. Or the same earthquakes may have 
 heated and hardened the limestones simply by grinding and 
 squeezing them ; or they may have been heated and hardened, 
 in the course of long ages, simply by the weight of the thou- 
 sands of feet of other rock which lay upon them. For 
 pressure, you must remember, produces heat. 
 
 When you strike flint and steel together, the pressure of 
 the blow not only makes bits of steel fly off, but makes 
 them fly off in red-hot sparks. When you hammer a piece 
 of iron with a hammer, you will soon find it quite warm. 
 When you squeeze the air together in your popgun, you 
 actually make the air inside warmer, till the pellet flies out, 
 and the air expands and cools again. Nay, I believe you 
 cannot hold up a stone on the palm of your hand without 
 that stone after a while warming your hand, because it 
 presses against you in trying to fall and you press against 
 
THE CORAL REEF. 217 
 
 it in trying to hold it up. And recollect, above all, the 
 great and beautiful example of that law which you were 
 lucky enough to see on the night of the 14th of November, 
 1867, how those falling stars, as I told you then, were 
 coming out of boundless space, colder than any ice on 
 earth, and yet, simply by pressing against the air above 
 our heads, they had their motion turned into heat, till they 
 burned themselves up into trains of fiery dust. So remem- 
 ber that whenever you have pressure, you have heat, and 
 that the pressure of the upper rocks upon the lower is 
 quite enough, some think, to account for older and lower 
 rocks being harder than the upper and newer ones. 
 
 But why should the lower rocks be older, and the upper 
 ones newer? You told me just now that the high moun- 
 tains in Wales were ages older than Windsor Forest, upon 
 which we stand ; but yet how much lower we are here than 
 if we were on a Welsh mountain. 
 
 Ah, my dear child, of course that puzzles you, and I am 
 afraid it must puzzle you until we have another talk ; or 
 rather it seems to me the best way to explain that puzzle 
 to you would be for you and me to go a journey into the 
 far West, and look into the matter ourselves ; and from here 
 to the far West we will go, either in fancy or on a real 
 railroad and steamboat, before we have another talk about 
 these things. 
 
 Now it is the time to stop. Is there anything more you 
 want to know? — for you look as if something was puzzling 
 you. 
 
 Were there any men in the world while all this was 
 going on? 
 
 I think not. We have no proof that there were not; 
 but also we have no proof that there were. The cave men, 
 
£18 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 of whom I told you, lived many ages after the coal was 
 covered up. You seem to be sorry that there were no men 
 in the world then. 
 
 Because it seems a pity that there was no one to see those 
 beautiful coral reefs and coal forests. 
 
 No one to see them, my child? Who told you that? 
 Who told you that there are not and never have been any 
 rational beings in this vast universe save certain weak, 
 ignorant, short-sighted creatures shaped like you and me ? 
 But even if it were so, and no created eye had ever beheld 
 those ancient wonders, and no created heart ever enjoyed 
 them, is there not One Uncreated who has seen them and 
 enjoyed them from the beginning? AVere not these crea- 
 tures each enjoying themselves after their kind ? And was 
 there not a Father in heaven who was enjoying their 
 enjoyment, and enjoying, too, their beauty, which He 
 had formed according to the ideas of His Eternal Mind? 
 Recollect what you were told on Trinity Sunday : that 
 this world was not made for man alone, but that man, and 
 this world, and the whole universe were made for God ; for 
 He created all things, and for His pleasure tliey are, and 
 were created. 
 
 ^mBOM^^L 
 
THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN. 219 
 
 XLIV. THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN. 
 
 By Robert Browning. 
 PART I. 
 
 HAMELIN TOWN 's in Brunswick, 
 By famous Hanover city; 
 The River Weser, deep and Avide, 
 Washes its wall on the southern side; 
 A pleasanter spot you never spied; 
 
 But, when begins my ditty, 
 Almost five hundred yeai-s ago. 
 To see the townsfolk suffer so 
 From vermin was a pity. 
 
 Rats! 
 
 They fought the dogs, and killed the cats. 
 
 And bit the babies in the cradles, 
 And ate the cheeses out of the vats. 
 
 And licked tlie soup from the cook's own ladles; 
 Split open the kegs of salted sprats, 
 Made nests inside men's Sunday hats. 
 And even spoiled the women's chats, 
 
 By drowning their speaking 
 
 With shrieking and squeaking 
 In fifty different sharps and flats. 
 
 At last the people in a body 
 
 To Ihe Town Hall came flocking: 
 " 'T is clear," cried they, " our Mayor 's a noddy ; 
 
 And as for our Corporation — shocking 
 
220 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 To think we buy gowns lined with ermine 
 For dolts that can't or won't determine 
 What's best to rid us of our vermin! 
 You hope, because you 're old and obese, 
 To find in the furry civic robes ease. 
 
 Rouse up, sirs! Give your brains a racking 
 To find the remedy we 're lacking, 
 Or, sure as fate, we '11 send you packing I " 
 At this the Mayor and Corporation 
 Quaked with a mighty consternation. 
 
 An hour they sate in council ; 
 
 At length the Mayor broke silence : 
 " For a guilder I 'd my ermine gown sell ; 
 
 I wish I were a mile hence! 
 It's easy to bid one rack one's brain — 
 I 'm sure my poor head aches again, 
 I 've scratched it so, and all in vain. 
 Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap ! " 
 Just as he said this, what should hap 
 At the chamber door but a gentle tap? 
 "Bless us," cried the Mayor, "what's that?" 
 (With the Corporation as he sat. 
 Looking little, though wondrous fat; 
 Nor brighter was his eye, nor moister 
 Than a too-long-opened oyster, 
 Sr.ve when at noon his paunch^ grew mutinous' 
 For a plate of turtle green and glutinous,) 
 " Only a scraping of shoes on the mat. 
 Anything like the sound of a rat 
 Makes my heart go pit-a-pat ! '' 
 
 * paunch, stomach. ^ mutinous, rebellious. 
 
THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN. 2S1 
 
 " Come in ! " the Mayor cried, looking bigger : 
 
 And in did come the strangest figure ! 
 
 His queer long coat from heel to head 
 
 Was half of yellow and half of red; 
 
 And he himself was tall and thin, 
 
 With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin, 
 
 And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin, 
 
 No tuft on cheek, nor beard on chin, 
 
 But lips where smiles went out and in — 
 
 There was no guessing his kith and kin I 
 
 And nobody could enough admire 
 
 The tall man and his quaint attire : 
 
 Quoth one : " It 's as my great grandsire, 
 
 Starting up at the trump of doom's tone, 
 
 Had walked this way from his painted tombstone." 
 
 He advanced to the council table, 
 
 And, " Please, your honors," said he, " I 'm able, 
 
 By means of a secret charm, to draw 
 All creatures living beneath the sun, 
 That creep, or swim, or fly, or run, 
 
 After me as you never saw I 
 And I chiefly use my charm 
 On creatures that do people harm, 
 The mole, the toad, and newt, and viper; 
 And people call me the Pied Piper." 
 (And here they noticed round his neck 
 
 A scarf of red and yellow stripe, 
 To match with his coat of the self same check; 
 
 And at the scarf's end hung a pipe ; 
 And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying 
 As if impatient to be playing 
 
222 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Upon this pipe, as low it dangled 
 Over his vesture so old fangled.) 
 "Yet," said he, "poor piper as I am, 
 In Tartary I freed the Chain,i 
 
 Last June, from his Imge swarm of gnats ; 
 I eased in Asia the Nizam '^^ 
 
 Of a monstrous brood of vampire bats: 
 And, as for what your brain bewildere. 
 
 If I can rid your town of rats, 
 Will you give me a thousand guilders ? " 
 " One ? fifty thousand ! " — was the exclamation 
 Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation. 
 
 Into the street the Piper stept, 
 
 Smiling first a little smile. 
 As if he knew what magic slept 
 
 In his quiet pipe the while ; 
 Then like a musical adept, 
 To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled. 
 And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled, 
 Like a candle flame where salt is sprinkled; 
 And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered, 
 You heard as if an army muttered ; 
 And the muttering grew into a grumbling ; 
 And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling, 
 And out of the houses the rats came tumbling. 
 Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats. 
 Brown rats, black rats, gray rats, tawny rats, 
 Grave old plodders, gay young friskers, 
 
 Fathera, mothers, uncles, cousins, 
 
 * Cham, chief ruler of the Tartars. 
 
 2 Ni-zam' (iie-zahm'), chief ruler of one of the provinces of India. 
 
THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN. ^23 
 
 Cuiiing tails and pricking whiskers, 
 
 Families by tens and dozens, 
 Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives — 
 Followed the Piper for their lives. 
 From street to street he piped advancing. 
 And step for step they followed, dancing. 
 Until they came to the River Weser, 
 
 Wherein all plunged and perished 
 Save one, who, stout as Julius Caisar, 
 
 Swam across and lived to carry 
 
 (As he the manuscript he cherished) 
 
 To Rat-land home his commentary, 
 Which was, "At the first shrill notes of the pipe, 
 I heard a sound as of scraping tripe. 
 And putting apples, wondrous ripe. 
 Into a cider-press's gripe: 
 And a moving away of pickle-tub-boards. 
 And a leaving ajar of conserve cupboards. 
 And a drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks. 
 And a breaking the hoops of butter-casks; 
 And it seemed as if a voice 
 
 (Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery. 
 Is breathed) called out, ' O rats, rejoice ! 
 
 The world is grown to one vast drysaltery! 
 To munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon,^ 
 Breakfast, dinner, supper, luncheon ! ' 
 Just as a bulky sugar puncheon. 
 All ready staved, like a great sun shone 
 Glorious, scarce an inch before me. 
 Just as methought it said. Come, bore me, — 
 — I found the Weser rolling o'er me." 
 ^ nun'cheon, a noon lunch. 
 
224 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 YOU should have heard the Hamelin people 
 Ringing the bells till they rock'd the steeple; 
 " Go," cried the Mayor, " and get long poles ! 
 Poke out the nests and block up the holes I 
 
 Consult with carpenters and builders, 
 And leave in our town not even a trace 
 Of the rats ! " — when suddenly up the face 
 Of the Piper perked in the market place, 
 
 With a " First, if you please, my thousand guilders I " 
 A thousand guilders? The Mayor looked blue; 
 So did the Corporation too. 
 For Council dinners made rare havoc 
 With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock; 
 And half the money would replenish 
 Their cellar's biggest butt^ with Rhenish.'^ 
 To pay this sum to a wandering fellow 
 With a gypsy coat of red and yellow I 
 " Besides," quoth the Mayor, with a knowing wink, 
 " Our business was done at the river's brink : 
 We saw with our eyes the vermin sink. 
 And what's dead can't come to life, I think. 
 So, friend, we 're not the folks to shrink 
 From the duty of giving you something to drink, 
 And a matter of money to put in your poke ; 
 But, as for guilders, what we spoke 
 Of them, as you very well know, was in joke. 
 Beside, our losses have made us thrifty ; 
 A thousand guilders I Come, take fifty ! " 
 
 * butt, a large cask. * Rhenish, a kind of wine. 
 
THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN. 225 
 
 The Piper's face fell, and he cried, 
 
 " No trifling ! I can't wait ; beside 
 
 I 've promised to visit by dinner time 
 
 Bagdad, and accept the prime 
 
 Of the head cook's pottage, all he 's rich in, 
 
 For having left, in the Caliph's ^ kitchen. 
 
 Of a nest of scorpions no survivor. 
 
 With him I proved no bargain-driver; 
 
 With you, do n't think I '11 bate a stiver I 
 
 And folks who put me in a passion 
 
 May find me pipe to another fashion." 
 
 " How ? " cried the Mayor, '' d' ye think I '11 brook 
 
 Being worse treated than a cook ? 
 
 Insulted by a lazy ribald 
 
 With idle pipe and vesture piebald? 
 
 You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst, 
 
 Blow your pipe there till you burst I " 
 
 Once more he stept into the street; 
 
 And to his lips again 
 
 Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane; 
 And ere he blew three notes (such sweet 
 
 Soft notes as j^et musician's cunning 
 
 Never gave the enraptured air) 
 There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling 
 Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling; 
 Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering, 
 Little hands clapping, and little tongues chattering, 
 And, like fowls in a farmyard when barley is scattering, 
 
 Out came the children running. 
 
 1 Caliph, ruler of the Mohammedans. 
 
 16— OR ^ ' 
 
226 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 All the little boys and girls, 
 
 With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls, 
 
 And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls. 
 
 Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after 
 
 The wonderful music with shouting and laughter. 
 
 The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood 
 
 As if they were changed into blocks of wood, — 
 
 Unable to move a step, or cry 
 
 To the children merrily skipping by, — 
 
 And could only follow with the eye 
 
 That joyous crowd at the Piper's back. 
 
 But how the Mayor was on the rack. 
 
 And the wretched Council's bosoms beat, 
 
 As the Piper turned from the High Street 
 
 To where the Weser rolled its waters 
 
 Right in the way of their sons and daughters I 
 
 However, he turned from south to west, 
 
 And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed, 
 
 And after him the children pressed ; 
 
 Great was the joy in every breast. 
 
 " He never can cross the mighty top I 
 
 He 's forced to let the piping drop, 
 
 And we shall see our children stop!" 
 When lo, as they reached the mountain's side, 
 A wondrous portal opened wide, 
 As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed ; 
 And the Piper advanced, and the children followed, 
 And when all were in to the very last, 
 The door in the mountain side shut fast. 
 
 Did I say all? No! one was lame. 
 And could not dance the whole of the way ; 
 
 And in after years, if you would blame 
 
THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN. 
 
 227 
 
 II. Kaulbach. 
 
 THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN. 
 
228 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 His sadness, he was used to say — 
 
 " It 's dull in our town since my playmates left ; 
 
 I can't forget that I 'm bereft 
 
 Of all the pleasant sights they see, 
 
 Which the Piper also promised me; 
 
 For he led us, he said, to a joyous land, 
 
 Joining the town and just at hand. 
 
 Where waters gushed and fruit trees grew, 
 
 And flowers put forth a fairer hue. 
 
 And everything was strange and new; 
 
 The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here . 
 
 And their dogs outran our fallow deer. 
 
 And honeybees had lost their stings ; 
 
 And horses were born with eagle's wings; 
 
 And just as I became assured 
 
 My lame foot would be speedily cured, 
 
 The music stopped, and I stood still. 
 
 And found myself outside the hill, 
 
 Left alone against my will, 
 
 To go now limping as before. 
 
 And never hear of that country more I " 
 
 Alas, alas for Hamelin ! 
 There came into many a burgher's pate 
 A text which says that Heaven's gate 
 Opes to the rich at as easy rate 
 
 As che needle's eye takes a camel in ! 
 The Mayor sent east, west, north, south, 
 . To offer the Piper by word of mouth, 
 
 Wherever it was men's lot to find him, 
 Silver and gold to his heart's content. 
 If he 'd only return the way he went. 
 
 And bring the children behind him. 
 
THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN. 229 
 
 But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavor, 
 And Piper and dancers were gone forever, 
 They made a decree that lawyers never 
 
 Should think their records dated duly 
 If, after the day of the month and year. 
 These words did not always appear, 
 "And so long after what happened here 
 
 On the twenty-second of July, 
 Thirteen hundred and seventy-six." 
 And the better in memory to fix 
 The place of the children's last retreat. 
 They called it the Pied Piper's Street — 
 Where any one playing on pipe or tabor 
 Was sure for the future to lose his labor. 
 Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern 
 
 To shock with mirth a street so solemn; 
 But opposite the place of the cavern 
 
 They wrote the story on a column, 
 And had the great church window painted 
 The same to make the world acquainted 
 How their children were stolen away; . 
 And there it stands to this very day. 
 In Transylvania there is a tribe 
 Of alien people that ascribe 
 The outlandish ways and dress 
 On which their neighbors lay such stress. 
 To their fathers and mothers having risen 
 Out of some subterraneous prison 
 Into which they were trepanned 
 Long time ago in a mighty band. 
 Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land ; 
 But how or why they don't understand. 
 
230 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 XLV. DANIEL DEFOE AND HIS BOOKS. 
 
 MANY years ago (1661-1731), in England, there lived 
 a man named Daniel Defoe, who wrote stories so 
 real that many people believed them to be true. Years be- 
 fore Defoe lived, there had occurred in the city of London a 
 terrible disease, known as the Plague, through which many 
 people lost their lives ; and so terrible was the fear of it 
 that every one who could, left the city. 
 
 Defoe wrote a book that pretended to be a journal written 
 by some one living in London during the Plague. It told 
 all about the disease, and the various terrible things that 
 happened, in such a way that people believed his account of 
 it to be a true record. 
 
 Defoe is sometimes called the first English novelist, be- 
 cause he was the first writer who wrote stories that are 
 really like the novels written to-day. He wrote one book, 
 of which everybody has heard, and which many of you boys 
 and girls have read. Those who have not read it, should 
 do so. This book is called " Robinson Crusoe." 
 ' A man named Alexander Selkirk was once put ashore 
 upon an island in the Pacific Ocean, at his own request, 
 and lived there alone for several years. Defoe is supposed 
 to have taken this man as the hero of his novel. 
 
 A poet, William Cowper, the same one who wrote " The 
 Nose and the Eyes," which you have already read in this 
 reader, wrote a poem about Alexander Selkirk, in which 
 the man is supposed to describe his own feelings upon find- 
 ing himself alone upon a desert island. It is given here, 
 and you can see if you think you would have such feelings 
 
VERSES. 231 
 
 as it describes if you were cast away as he was. Following 
 the poem, is an extract from " Robinson Crusoe." In the 
 first part of the story is given an account of the hero's 
 early life, and of the voyage and shipwreck. The extracts 
 here given tell how Crusoe was saved from the sea after 
 the shipwreck, how he made himself a home upon the island 
 and employed his time, of the coming of his man Friday, 
 and his final rescue by an English vessel. 
 
 XLVI. VERSES. 
 
 SUPPOSED TO 15E WRITTEN BY ALEXANDER SELKIRK DURING HIS SOLITARY 
 
 abode in the island of juan fernandez. 
 By AVilliam Cowper. 
 
 I AM monarch of all I survey, 
 My right there is none to dispute; 
 From the center all round to the sea, 
 I am lord of the fowl and the brute. 
 
 Solitude! where are the charms 
 That sages have seen in thy face ? 
 
 Better dwell in the midst of alarms 
 Than reign in this horrible place. 
 
 1 am out of humanity's reach, 
 
 I must finish my journey alone ; 
 Never hear the sweet music of speech — 
 
 I start at the sound of my own ! 
 The beasts that roam over the plain 
 
 My form witli indifference see ; 
 They are so unacquainted with man. 
 
 Their tameness is shocking to me. 
 
S32 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Society, friendship, and love. 
 
 Divinely bestow'd upon man, 
 Oh, had I the wings of a dove, 
 
 How soon would I taste you again ! 
 My sorrows I then might assuage 
 
 In the ways of religion and truth; 
 Might learn from the wisdom of age. 
 
 And be cheered by the sallies of youth. 
 
 Religion! what treasure untold 
 
 Resides in that heavenly word. 
 More precious than silver and gold, 
 
 Or all that this earth can afford ! 
 But the sound of the church-going bell 
 
 These valleys and rocks never heard ; 
 Never sighed at the sound of a knell, 
 
 Or smiled when a Sabbath appeared. 
 
 Ye winds, that have made me your sport, 
 
 Convey to this desolate shore 
 Some cordial endearing report 
 
 Of a land I shall visit no more ! 
 My friends, do they now and then send 
 
 A wish or a thought after me? 
 Oh, tell me I yet have a friend. 
 
 Though a friend I am never to see I 
 
 How fleet is a glance of the mind ! 
 
 Compared with the speed of its flight, 
 The tempest itself lags behind. 
 
 And the swift- winged arrows of light. 
 
ROBINSON CRUSOE. 233 
 
 When I think of my own native land, 
 
 In a moment I seem to be there ; 
 But alas ! recollection at hand 
 
 Soon hurries me back to despair. 
 
 But the sea fowl has gone to her nest, 
 
 The beast is laid down in his laic ; 
 Even here is a season of rest, 
 
 And I to my cabin repair. 
 There 's mercy in every place ; 
 
 And mercy — encouraging thought ! - 
 Gives even affliction a grace, 
 
 And reconciles man to his lot. 
 
 XLVII. ROBINSON CRUSOE. 
 
 By Daniel Defoe. 
 
 NOTHING can describe the confusion of thought which 
 I felt when I sunk into the water; for though I 
 swam very well, yet I could not deliver myself from the 
 waves so as to draw breath, till that wave having driven me, 
 or rather carried me, a vast way on towards the shore, and 
 having spent itself, went back, and left me upon the land, 
 almost dry, but half dead with the water I took in. I had 
 so much presence of mind, as well as breath, left, that, seeing 
 myself nearer the main land than I expected, I got upon my 
 feet, and endeavored to make on towards the land as fast as 
 I could before another wave should return and take me up 
 again ; but I soon found it was impossible to avoid it, for I 
 saw the sea coming after me as high as a great hill, and as 
 
234 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 furious as an enemy, which I had no means or strength to 
 contend with. My business was to hold my breath and raise 
 myself upon the water, if I could ; and so, by swimming, to 
 preserve my breathing and pilot myself towards the shore, 
 if possible ; my greatest concern now being, that the sea, as 
 it would cany me a great way towards the shore when it 
 came on, might not carry me back again with it when it 
 gave back towards the sea. 
 
 The wave that came upon me again, buried me at once 
 twenty or thirty feet deep in its own body, and I could feel 
 myself carried with a mighty force and swiftness towards 
 the shore a very great way; but I held my breath, and 
 assisted myself to swim still forward with all my might. I 
 was ready to burst with holding my breath, when as I felt 
 myself rising up, so to my immediate relief, I found my 
 head and hands shoot out above the surface of the water ; 
 and though it was not two seconds of time that I could keep 
 myself so, yet it relieved me greatly, gave me breath and 
 new courage. I was covered again with water a good while ; 
 but not so long but I held it out; and finding tlie water had 
 spent itself and began to return, I stroock forward against 
 the return of the waves, and felt ground again with my feet, 
 I stood still a few moments, to recover breath, and till the 
 water went from me, and then took to my heels and ran 
 with what strength I had farther towards the shore. But 
 neither would this deliver me from the fury of the sea, which 
 came pouring in after me again ; and twice more I was lifted 
 up by the waves and carried forwards as before, the shore 
 being veiy flat. 
 
 The last time of these two had well nigh l)een fatal to me; 
 for the sea having hurried me along, as l:)efore, landed me, or 
 rather daslied me, against a piece of a rock and that with such 
 
ROBINSON CRUSOE. 235 
 
 force, as it left me senseless, and indeed helpless, as to my own 
 deliverance ; for the blow taking my side and breath, beat 
 the breath, as it were, quite out of my body; and had it 
 returned again immediately, I must have been strangled in 
 the water ; but I recovered a little before the return of the 
 waves, and seeing I should be covered again with the water, 
 I resolved to hold fast by a piece of the rock, and so to hold 
 my breath, if possible, till the wave went back. Now, as 
 the waves were not so high as at first, being nearer land, I 
 held my hold till the wave abated, and then fetched another 
 run, which brought me so near the shore, that the next wave, 
 though it went over me, yet did not so swallow me up as 
 to carry me away ; and the next run I took, I got to the 
 main land ; where, to my great comfort I clambered up 
 the cliffs of the shore, and sat me down upon the grass, 
 free from danger, and quite out of the reach of the water. 
 
 I was now landed, and safe on shore, and began to look 
 up and thank God that my life was saved, in a case wherein 
 there was, some minutes before, scarce any room to hope. I 
 believe it impossible to express, to the life, what the ecsta- 
 sies 1 and transports ^ of the soul are when it is so saved, as 
 I may say, out of the very grave ; and I do not wonder 
 now at the custom, that when a malefactor, who has the hal- 
 ter about his neck, is tied up, and just going to be turned 
 off, and has a reprieve brought to him ; I say, I do not won- 
 der that they bring a surgeon with it, to let his blood that 
 very moment they tell him of it, that the surprise may not 
 drive the animal spirits from the heart, and overwhelm him. 
 
 "For sudden joys, like griefs, confound at first." 
 
 I walked about on the shore, lifting up my hands, and 
 my whole being, as I may say, wrapt up in a contem- 
 1 ec'sta-sies, great joys. 2 trans'ports, violent pleasures. 
 
236 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 plation of my deliverance; making a thousand gestures 
 and motions, which I cannot describe ; reflecting upon all 
 my comrades that were drowned, and that there should 
 not be one soul saved but myself; for, as for them, I 
 never saw them afterwards, or any sign of them except 
 three of their hats, one cap, and two shoes that were not 
 fellows. 
 
 I cast my eyes to the stranded vessel, when, the breach 
 and froth of the sea being so big, I could hardly see it, it 
 lay so far off ; and considered, Lord ! how was it possible I 
 could get on shore ? - 
 
 After I had solaced my mind with the comfortable part 
 of my condition, I began to look round me, to see what 
 kind of place I was in, and what was next to be done ; and 
 I soon found my comforts abate, and that, in a word, I had 
 a dreadful deliverance : for I was wet, and had no clothes 
 to shift me, nor anything either to eat or drink, to comfort 
 me; neither did I see any p£Ospect before me but that of 
 perishing with hunger, or being devoured by wild beasts ; and 
 thai .which was particularly afflicting to me was, that I had 
 'no Ifeapon, either to hunt and kill any creature for my sus- 
 tenaBce, or to defend myself against any other creature that 
 might desire to kill me for theirs. In a word, I had nothing 
 about me but a knife, a tobacco pipe, and a little tobacco in 
 a bo^. This was all my provision ; and this threw me into 
 terrible agpnies_of mind, that for a while I ran about like 
 a madman. Night coming upon me, I began, with a heavy 
 heart, to consider what would be my lot if there were any 
 ravenous beasts in that country, seeing at night they always 
 come abroad for their prey. 
 
 All the remedy that offered to my thoughts, at that time, 
 was to get up into a thick bushy tree, like a fir, but thorny, 
 
ROBINSON CRUSOE. 237 
 
 which grew near me, and where I resolved to sit all night, 
 and consider the next day what death I should die, for as 
 yet I saw no prospect of life. I walked about a fuilong 
 from the shore, to see if I could find any fresh water to 
 drink, which I did to my great joy ; and having drank, and 
 put a little tobacco in my mouth to prevent hunger, I went 
 to the tree, and, getting up into it, endeavorad to place 
 myself so as that if I should sleep I might not fall. And 
 having cut me a short stick, like a truncheon, for my 
 defense, I took up my lodging ; and having been excessively 
 fatigued, I fell fast asleep, and slept as comfortably as,. I 
 believe, few could have done in my condition. 
 
 When I waked it was broad day, the weather clear, and 
 the storm abated, so that the sea did not rage and swell as 
 before ; but that which surprised me most was, that the 
 ship was lifted off in the night from the sand where she 
 lay, by the swelling of the tide, and was driven up almost as 
 far as the rock which I first mentioned, where I had been 
 so bruised by the wave dashing me against it. This being 
 within about a mile from the shore where I was and the 
 ship, seeming to stand upright still, I wished myself on 
 board, that at least I might save some necessary things for 
 my use. 
 
 When I came down from my apartment in the tree, I 
 looked about me again, and the first thing I found was the 
 boat, which lay as the wind and sea had tossed her up upon 
 the land, about two miles on my right hand. I walked as 
 far as I could upon the shore to have got to her ; but found 
 a neck, or inlet, of water between me and the boat which 
 was about half a mile broad ; so I came back for the 
 present, being more intent upon getting at the ship, where 
 I hoped to find something for my present subsistence. 
 
238 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 A little after noon, I found the sea very calm, and the tide 
 ebl)ed so far out, that I could come within a quarter of a 
 mile of the ship. And here I found a fresh renewing of my 
 grief; for I saw evidently, that if we had kept on board, 
 we had been all safe : that is to, say, we had all got safe on 
 shore, and I had not been so miserable as to be left entirely 
 'destitute of all comfort and company, as I now was. This 
 forced tears to my eyes again ; but as there was little relief 
 in that, I resolved, if possible, to get to the ship; so I 
 pulled off my clothes, for the weather was hot to extremity, 
 and took the w^ater. But when I came to the ship, my 
 difficulty was still greater to know how to get on board ; for 
 as she lay aground, and high out of the water, there was 
 nothing within my reach to lay hold of. I swam around 
 her twice, and the second time I spied a small piece of rope, 
 which I wondered I did not see at first, hang down by the 
 forechains so low, as that with great difficulty I got hold of 
 it, and, by the help of that rope, got up into the forecastle of 
 the ship. Here I found that the ship was bulged, and had 
 a great deal of water in her hold ; but that she lay so on the 
 side of a bank of hard sand, or rather earth, that her stern 
 lay lifted up upon the bank, and her head low, almost to 
 the water. By this means all her quarter was free, and all 
 that was in that part was dry ; for you may be sure my first 
 work was to search and to see what was spoiled and what 
 was free. And, first, I found that all the ship's provisions 
 were dry and untouched by the water, and being very well 
 disposed to eat, I went to the bread-room, and filled my 
 pockets with biscuit, and ate it as I went about other 
 things, for I had no time to lose. Now T wanted nothing 
 but a boat, to furnish myself with many things which I 
 foresaw would be very necessary to mc. 
 
ROBINSON CRUSOE. 239 
 
 II. 
 
 IT was in vain to sit still and wish for what was not to be 
 had; and this extremity roused my application. Ws 
 had several spare yards, and two or three large spars of 
 wood, and a spare topmast or two in the ship : I resolved 
 to fall to work with these, and I flung as many of them over- 
 board as I could manage for their weight, tying every one 
 with a rope that they might not drive away. When this 
 was done, I went down the ship's side, and pulling them to 
 me, I tied four of them together at both ends as well as I 
 could, in the form of a raft, and laying two or three short 
 pieces of plank upon them crossways, I found I could walk 
 upon it very well, but that it was not able to bear any great 
 weight. So I went to work, and with the carpenter's saw 
 I cut a spare topmast into three lengths, and added them 
 to my raft, with a great deal of labor and pains. 
 
 My raft was now strong enough to bear any reasonable 
 weight. My next care was what to load it Avith, and how 
 to preserve what I laid upon it from the surf of the sea : 
 but I was not long considering this. I first laid all thef 
 plank or boards upon it that I could get, and having con- 
 sidered well what I most wanted, I first got three of the 
 seamen's chests, which I had broken open and emptied, and 
 lowered them down upon my raft ; the first of these I filled 
 with provisions, viz. ; bread, rice, three Dutch cheeses, five 
 pieces of dried goat's flesh (which we lived much upon), 
 and a little remainder of European corn, which had been 
 laid by for some fowls which we brought to sea with us, 
 but the fowls were killed. There had been some barley 
 and wheat together; but to my great disappointment, I 
 found afterwards that the rats had eaten and spoiled it all. 
 
240 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 As for liquors, I found several cases of bottles belonging to 
 our skipper,^ in which were some cordial waters; and, in 
 all, about five or six gallons of rack.^ These I stowed by 
 themselves, there being no need to put them into the chest, 
 nor any room for them. While I was doing this, I found, 
 the tide began to flow, though very calm ; and I had .the 
 mortification to see my coat, shirt, and waistcoat which I 
 had left on the shore, upon the sand, swim away. As for 
 breeches, which were only linen, and open-kneed, I swam 
 on board in them and my stockings.. However, this put me 
 upon rummaging for clothes, of which I found enough, but 
 took no njore than I wanted for present use, for I had other 
 things which my eye was more upon ; as, first, tools to 
 work with on shore. And it was after lohg searching 
 that I found out the carpenter's chest, which was indeed, a 
 very useful prize to me, and much more valuable than a 
 ship loading of gold would have been at that time. I got it 
 down to my raft, even whole as it was, without losing time 
 to look into it, for I knew in general what it contained. 
 
 My next care was for some ammunition and arms. There 
 were two very good fowling-pieces in the great cabin, and 
 two pistols. These I secured first, with some powderhorns 
 and a small bag of shot, and two old rusty swords. I knew 
 there were three barrels of powder in the ship, but knew not 
 where our gunner had stowed them ; but with much search 
 I found them, two of them dry and good, the third had 
 taken water. Those two I got to my raft, with the arms. 
 And now I thought myself pretty well freighted, and began 
 to think how I should get to shore with them, having neither 
 sail, oar, nor rudder; and the least capful of wind would 
 have overset all my navigation. 
 
 > sklp'per, captain of a vessel. 2 rack, an alcoholic liquor. 
 
ROBINSON CRUSOE. 
 
 241 
 
 to the shore ; 
 
 I had three encourage- 
 ments : first, a smooth, 
 calm sea; secondly, the 
 tide rising, and setting in 
 thirdly, what little wind 
 ^ . ' there was blew me towards the land. 
 
 And thus, having found two or three 
 broken oars belonging to the boat, and besides the tools 
 which were in the chest, I found two saws, an ax, and a 
 hammer, and with this cargo I put to sea. For a mile or 
 thereabouts, my raft went very well, only that I found it 
 drive a little distant from the place where I had landed be- 
 fore ; by which I perceived that there was some indraft of 
 
 17 — 5r 
 
242 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 the water, and consequently, I hoped to find some creek or 
 river there, which I might make use of as a port to get to 
 land with my cargo. 
 
 As I imagined, so it was. There appeared before me a lit- 
 ' tie opening of the land, and I found a strong current of the 
 tide set into it ; so I guided my raft, as well as I could, to 
 keep in the middle of the stream. 
 
 But here I had like to have suffered a second shipwreck ; 
 which, if I had, I think, verily, would have broken my heart; 
 for, knowing nothing of the coast, my raft ran aground at one 
 end of it upon a shoal, and not being aground at the other end, 
 it wanted but a little that all my cargo had slipped off towards 
 the end that was afloat, and so fallen into the water. I did 
 my utmost, by setting my back against the chests, to keep 
 them in their places, but could not thrust off the raft with 
 all my strength ; neither durst I stir from the posture I was 
 in ; but holding up the chests with all my might, I stood in 
 that manner near half an hour, in which time the rising of 
 the water brought me a little more upon a level ; and, a lit- 
 tle after, the water still rising, my raft floated again, and I 
 thrust her off with the oar I had into the channel, and then 
 driving up higher, I at length found myself in the mouth of 
 a little river, with land on both sides, and a strong current 
 or tide running up. I looked on both sides for a proper 
 place to get to shore, for I was not willing to be driven too 
 high up the river ; hoping, in time, to see some ship at sea, 
 and therefore resolved to place myself as near the coast as I 
 could. 
 
 At length I spied a little cove on the right shore of the 
 creek, to which, with great pain and difficulty, I guided my 
 raft, and at last got so near, that reaching ground with my 
 oar, I could thrust her directly in. But here I had like to 
 
ROBINSON CRUSOE. 243 
 
 have dipped all my cargo into the sea again, for that shore 
 lying pretty steep, — that is to say, sloping, — there was no 
 place to land, but where one end of my float, if it ran on 
 shore, would lie so high, and the other sink lower, as before, 
 that it would endanger my cargo again. All that I could 
 do, was to wait till the tide was at the highest, keeping the 
 raft with my oar like an anchor, to hold the side of it fast to 
 the shore, near a flat piece of ground, which I expected the 
 water would flow over ; and so it did. As soon as I found 
 water enough, for my raft drew about a foot of water, I 
 thrust her upon that flat piece of ground, and there fastened 
 or moored her, by sticking my two broken oars into the 
 ground, — one on one side near one end, and one on the 
 other side near the other end ; and thus I lay till the water 
 ebbed away, and left my raft and cargo safe on shore. 
 
 My next work was to view the country, and seek a proper 
 place for my habitation, and where to stow my goods, to 
 secure them from whatever might happen. Where I was, I 
 yet knew not ; whether on the continent or an island ; 
 whether inhabited or not inhabited ; whether in danger of 
 wild beasts or not. There was a hill not above a mile from 
 me, which rose up very steep and high, and which seemed to 
 overtop some other hills, which lay as in a ridge from it, 
 northward. I took out one of the fowling-pieces and one of 
 the pistols, and a horn of powder ; and thus armed, I trav- 
 eled for discovery up to the top of that hill, where, after I 
 had with great labor and difficulty got to the top, I saw my 
 fate, to my great affliction, viz. : that I was in an island 
 environed every way with the sea ; no land to be seen 
 except some rocks, which lay a great way off ; and two small 
 islands less than this, which lay about three le agu es to the 
 west. 
 
244 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 I found also that the island I was in was barren, and as I 
 saw good reason to believe, uninhabited except by wild 
 beasts, of whom, however, I saw none. Yet I saw abun- 
 dance of fowls, but knew not their kinds, neither, when I 
 killed them, could I tell what was fit for food, and what not. 
 At my coming back, I shot at a great bird, which I saw sit- 
 ting upon a tree, on the side of a great wood. I believe it 
 was the first gun that had been fired there since the creation 
 of the world. I had no sooner fired, but from all the parts 
 of the wood there arose an innumerable number of fowls of 
 many sorts, making a confused screaming and crying, 
 every one according to his usual note, but not one of them 
 of any kind that I knew. As for the creature I killed, I 
 took it to be a kind of a hawk, its color and beak resembling 
 it, but it had no talons or claws more than common. Its 
 flesh Avas carrion, and fit for nothing. 
 
 Contented with this discovery, I came back to my raft, and 
 fell to work to bring my cargo on shore, which took me up the 
 rest of that day ; what to do with myself at night I knew 
 not, nor indeed where to rest, for I was afraid to lie down on 
 the ground, not knowing but some wild beast might dexQur 
 me, though, as I afterwards found, there was really no need 
 for those fears. 
 
 However, as well as I could, I barricaded myself round 
 with the chests and boards that I had brought on shore, and 
 made a kind of hut for that night's lodging. As for food, T 
 yet saw not which way to supply myself, except that I had 
 seen two or three creatures, like hares, run out of the wood 
 where I shot the fowl. 
 
 ■^ 
 
ROBINSON CRUSOE. 345 
 
 III. 
 
 I NOW began to consider that I might yet get a great 
 many things out of the ship, which would be useful to 
 me, and particularly some of the rigging and sails, and such 
 other things as might come to land ; and I resolved to 
 make another voyage on board the vessel if possible. And 
 as I knew that the first storm that blew must necessarily 
 break her all in pieces, I resolved to set all things apart, 
 till I had got everything out of the ship that I could get. 
 Then I called a council — that is to say, in my thoughts — 
 whether I should take back the raft ; but this appeared 
 impracticable ; ^ so I resolved to go as before, when the 
 tide was down, and I did so, only that I stripped before I 
 went from my hut, having nothing on but a checkered 
 shirt, a pair of linen drawers, and a pair of pumps on my 
 feet. 
 
 I got on board the ship as before, and prepared a second 
 raft ; and having had experience of the first, I neither 
 made this so unwieldy, nor loaded it so hard ; but yet I 
 brought away several things very useful to me; as, first, 
 in the carpenter's stores, I found two or three bags full of 
 nails and spikes, a great screw-jack, a dozen or two of 
 hatchets, and, above all, that most useful thing called a 
 grindstone. All these I secured, together with several 
 things belonging to the gunner, particularly two or three 
 iron crows, and two barrels of musket bullets, seven mus- 
 kets, and another fowling-piece, with some small quantity 
 of powder more ; a large bag full of small shot, and a great 
 roll of sheet-lead ; but this last was so heavy I could not 
 hoist it up to get it over the ship's side. 
 
 ^ im-prac'ti-ca-ble, that could not be done. 
 
246 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Besides these things, I took all the men's clothes that I 
 could find, and a spare fore-topsail, .a hammock, and some 
 bedding ; and Avith this I loaded my second raft, and 
 brought them all safe on shore, to my very great comfort. 
 
 I was under some apprehension, ^ during my absence from 
 the land, that at least my provisions might be devoured on 
 shore : but when I came back, I found no sign of any visi- 
 tor ; only there sat a creature like a wild cat, upon one of 
 the chests, which, when I came towards it, ran away a little 
 distance, and then stood still. She sat very composed and 
 unconcerned, and looked full in my face, as if she had a 
 mind to be acquainted with me. I presented my gun to 
 her, but as she did not understand it, she was perfectly un- 
 concerned at it, nor did she offer to stir away ; upon which 
 I tossed her a bit of biscuit, though, by the way, I was not 
 very free of it, for my store was not great: however, I 
 spared her a bit, I say, and she went to it, smelled of it, 
 and ate it, and looked (as if pleased) for more ; but I 
 thanked her, and could spare no more : so she marched off. 
 
 Having got my second cargo on shore, — though I was 
 obliged to open the barrels of powder, and bring them by 
 parcels, for they were too heavy, being large casks, — I 
 went to work to make me a little tent, with the sail, and 
 some poles which I cut for that purpose : and into this tent 
 I brought everything that I knew would spoil either with 
 rain or sun ; and I piled all the empty chests and casks up 
 in a circle round the tent, to fortify it from any sudden 
 attempt, either from man or beast. 
 
 When I had done this, I blocked up the door of the tent 
 with some boards within, and an empty chest set up on end 
 without ; and spreading one of the beds upon the ground, 
 1 ap-pre-hen'sion, fear. 
 
ROBINSON CRUSOE. 247 
 
 laying my two pistols just at my head, and my gun at 
 length by me, I went to bed for the first time, and slept 
 very quietly all night, for I was very weary and heavy ; 
 for the night before I had slept little, and had labored very 
 hard all day, to fetch all those things from the ship, and to 
 get them on shore. 
 
 I had the biggest magazine ^ of all kinds now that ever was 
 laid up, I believe, for one man; but I was not satisfied 
 still, for while the ship sat upright in that posture, I thought 
 I ought to get everything out of her that I could : so every 
 day, at low tide, I went on board, and brought away some- 
 thing or other; but particularly the third time I went, I 
 brought away as much of the rigging as I could, as also all 
 the small ropes and rope twine I could get, with a piece of 
 spare canvas, which was to mend the sails upon occasion, 
 and the barrel of wet gunpowder. In a word, I brought 
 away all the sails first and last ; only that I was obliged to 
 cut them in pieces, and bring as much at a time as I could, 
 for they were no more useful to be sails, but as mere 
 canvas only. 
 
 But that which comforted me more still, was, that last 
 of all, after I had made five or six such voyages as these, 
 and thought I had nothing more to expect from the ship 
 that was worthy my meddling with ; — I say, after all this, 
 I found a great hogshead of bread, three large runlets of 
 rum, or spirits, and a box of sugar, and a barrel of fine 
 flour : this was surprising to me, because I had given over 
 expecting any more provisions, except what was spoiled by 
 the water. I soon emptied the hogshead of the bread, and 
 wrapped it up, parcel by parcel, in pieces of the sails which 
 I cut out ; and, in a word, I got all this safe on shore also. 
 1 mag-a-zine' (-zeen), a store-house. 
 
248 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 The next day I made another voyage, and now, having 
 plundered the ship of what was portable and fit to hand out, 
 I began with the cables ; cutting the great cable into pieces 
 such as I could move, I got two cables and a hawser on 
 shore, with all the iron work I could get ; and having cut 
 down the spritsail yard, and the mizzen yard, and every- 
 thing I could, to make a large raft, I loaded it with all 
 these heavy goods, and came away; but my good luck 
 began now to leave me ; for this raft was so unwieldy, and 
 so overladen, that after I was entered the little cove, where 
 I had landed the rest of my goods, not being able to guide 
 it so handily as I did the other, it overset, and threw me 
 and all my cargo into the water ; as for myself, it was no 
 great harm, for I was near the shore ; but as to my cargo, it 
 was a great part of it lost, especially the iron, which I ex- 
 pected would have been of great use to me. However, 
 when the tide was out, I got most of the pieces of cable 
 ashore, and some of the iron, though with infinite labor ; 
 for I had to dip for it into the water, a work which fatigued 
 me very much. After this, I went every day on board, and 
 brought away what I could get. 
 
 I had been now thirteen days on shore, and had been 
 eleven times on board the ship, in which time I had brought 
 away all that one pair of hands could well be supposed 
 capable to bring; though I believe verily, had the calm 
 weather held, I should have brought away the whole ship, 
 piece by piece ; but preparing the twelfth time to go on 
 board, I found the wind began to rise ; however, at low 
 water I went on board, and though I thought I had rum- 
 maged the cabin so effectually that nothing more could be 
 found, yet I discovered a locker with drawers in it, in one 
 of which T found two or three razoi-s and one pair of large 
 
ROBINSON CRUSOE. 249 
 
 scissors, with some ten or a dozen of good knives and forks : 
 in another I found about thirty-six pounds value in money, 
 — some European coin, some Brazil, some pieces of eight, 
 some gold and some silver. 
 
 I smiled to myself at the sight of this money : " O drug," 
 said I aloud, " what art thou good for ? Thou art not 
 worth to me, — no, not the taking off the ground : one of 
 those knives is worth all this heap: I have no manner of 
 use for thee ; even remain where thou art, and go to the 
 bottom, as a creature whose life is not worth saving." 
 However, upon second thoughts, I took it away : and wrap- 
 ping all in a piece of canvas, I began to think of making 
 another raft ; but while I was preparing this, I found the 
 sky overcast, and the wind began to rise, and in a quarter 
 of an hour it blew a fresli gale from the shore. It presently 
 occurred to me, that it was in vain to pretend to make a 
 raft with the wind off shore ; and that it was my business 
 to be gone before the tide of flood began, otherwise I might 
 not be able to reach the shore at all. Accordingly, I let 
 myself down into the water, and swam across the channel 
 which lay between the ship and the sands, and even that 
 with difficulty enough, partly with the weight of the things 
 I had about me, and partly from the roughness of the water ; 
 for the wind rose very hastily, and before it was quite high 
 water it blew a storm. 
 
 But I had got home to my little tent, where I lay, with 
 all my wealth about me, very secure. It blew very hard all 
 that night, and in the morning, when I looked out, behold, 
 no more ship was to be seen. I was a little surprised, but 
 recovered myself with this satisfactory reflection, that I had 
 lost no time, nor abated any diligence, to get everything 
 out of her that could be useful to me ; and that, indeed, 
 
250 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 there was little left in her that I was able to bring away, if 
 I had had more time. 
 
 I now gave over any more thoughts of the ship, or of any- 
 thing out of her, except what miglit drive on shore from her 
 wreck ; as, indeed, divers pieces of her afterwards did ; but 
 those things were of small use to me. 
 
 X IV. 
 
 MY thoughts were now wholly employed about secur- 
 ing myself against either savages, if any should 
 appear, or wild beasts, if any were in the island ; and I had 
 many thoughts of the method how to do this, and what kind 
 of dwelling to make, whether I should make me a cave in 
 the earth, or a tent upon the earth ; and, in short, I resolved 
 upon both, the manner and description of whi'ch it may not 
 be improper to give an account of. 
 
 I soon found the place I was in was not fit for my settle- 
 ment, because it was upon a low, moorish ground, near the 
 sea, and I believed it would not be wholesome, and more 
 particularly because there was no fresh water near it ; so I 
 resolved to find a more healthy and more convenient spot 
 of ground. 
 
 I consulted several things in my situation, which I found 
 would be proper for me : first, health and fresh water, I just 
 now mentioned ; secondly, shelter from the heat of the sun ; 
 thirdly, security from ravenous creatures, whether men or 
 beasts ; fourthly, a view to the sea, that if God sent any sliij) 
 in sight, I might not lose any advantage for my deliverance, 
 of which I was not willing to banish all my expectatibn yet. 
 
 In search of a place proper for this, I found a little plain 
 on the side of a rising hill, whose front towards this little, 
 
ROBINSON CRUSOE. 251 
 
 plain was steep as a house-side, so that nothing could come 
 down upon me from the top. On the side of the rock 
 there was a hollow place, worn a little way in, like the 
 entrance or door of a cave ; but there was not really any 
 cave, or way into the rock, at all. 
 
 On the flat of the green, just before this hollow place, I 
 resolved to pitch my tent. This plain was not above a hun- 
 dred yards broad, and about twice as long, and lay like a 
 green before my door ; and, at the end of it, descended irregu- 
 larly every way down into the low grounds by the sea-side. 
 It was on the nort}i-northwest side of the hill; so that it 
 was sheltered from the heat every day, till it came to 
 a west and by south sun, or thereabouts, which, in those 
 countries, is near the setting. 
 
 Before I set up my tent I drew a half-circle before the 
 hollow place, which took in about ten yards in its semi- 
 diameter, from the rock, and twenty yards in its diameter, 
 from its beginning and ending. In this half -circle I pitched 
 two rows of strong stakes, driving them into the ground till 
 they stood very firm like piles, the biggest end being out of 
 the ground about five feet and a half, and sharpened on the 
 top. The two rows did not stand above six inches from 
 one another. 
 
 Then I took the pieces of cable which I had cut in the 
 ship, and laid them in rows, one upon another, within the 
 circle, between these rows of stakes, up to the top, placing 
 other stakes in the inside, leaning against them, about two 
 feet and a half high, like a spur to a post ; and this fence 
 was so strong, that neither man nor beast could get into it 
 or over it. This cost me a great deal of time and labor, 
 especially to cut the piles in the woods, bring them to the 
 place, and drive them into the earth. 
 
252 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 The entrance into this place I made to be, not by a door, 
 but by a short ladder to go up over the top ; which ladder, 
 when I was in, I lifted over after me ; and so I was com- 
 pletely fenced in and fortified, as I thought, from all the 
 world, and consequently slept secure in the night, which 
 otherwise I could not have done ; though, as it appeared 
 afterwards, there was no need of all this caution from the 
 enemies that I apprehended danger from. 
 
 Into this fence, or fortress, with infinite labor, I carried 
 all my riches, all my provisions, ammunition, and stores, of 
 which you have the account above ; and I made me a large 
 tent, which, to preserve me from the rains, that in one part 
 of the j^ear are very violent there, I made double, viz., one 
 smaller tent within, and one large tent above it; and 
 covered the uppermost with a large tarpaulin, which I had 
 saved among the sails. 
 
 And now I lay no more for a while in the bed which I 
 had brought on shore, but in a hammock, which was indeed 
 a very good one, and belonged to the mate of the ship. 
 
 Into this tent I brought all my provisions and everything 
 that would spoil by the wet ; and having thus inclosed all 
 my goods, I made up the entrance, which till now I had 
 left open, and so passed and repassed, as I said, by a short 
 ladder. 
 
 When I ha^ done this, I began to work my way into the 
 rock, and bringing all the earth and stones that I dug down 
 out through my tent, I laid them up within my fence, in the 
 nature of a terrace, so that it raised the ground within 
 about a foot and a half ; and thus I made a cave, just behind 
 my tent, which served me like a cellar to my house. 
 
ROBINSON CRUSOE. 253 
 
 V. 
 
 I WAS surprised one morning by seeing no less than five 
 canoes all on shore together on my side the island, and 
 the people who belonged to them all landed and out of my 
 sight. The r\umber of them broke all my measures ; for 
 seeing so many, and knowing that they always came four 
 or six, or sonietimes more, in a boat, I could not tell what 
 to think of it, or how to take my measures, to attack twenty 
 or thirty men single-handed ; so lay still in my castle, per- 
 plexed and discomforted. However, I put myself into the 
 same position for an attack that I had formerly provided, 
 and was just ready for action, if anything had presented. 
 Having waited a good while, listening to hear if they made 
 any noise, at length, being very impatient, I set my guns 
 at the foot of my ladder, and clambered up to the top of 
 the hill, by my two stages, as usual ; standing so, however, 
 that my head did not appear above the hill, so that they 
 could not perceive me by any means. Here I observed, by 
 the help of my perspective-glass, that they were no less 
 than thirty in number, that they had a fire kindled, and 
 that they had meat dressed. How they had cooked it, I 
 knew not, or what it was ; but they were all dancing in I 
 know not how many barbarous gestures and figures, their 
 own way, round the fire. 
 
 While I was thus looking on them I perceived, by my 
 perspective, two miserable wretches dragged from the boats, 
 where, it seems, they were laid by, and were now brought 
 out for the slaughter. I perceived one of them immedi- 
 ately fall, being knocked down, I suppose, with a club, 
 or Avooden sword, for that was their way ; and two or 
 three others were at work immediately cutting him open 
 
254 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 for their cookery, while the other victim was left standing 
 by himself, till they should be ready for him. In that very 
 moment, this poor wretch seeing himself a little at liberty, 
 and unbound, Nature inspired him with hopes of life, and 
 he started away from them, and ran with incredible swift> 
 ness along the sands, directly towards me ; I mean, towards 
 that part of the coast where my habitation was. I was 
 dreadfully frightened, I must acknowledge, when I per- 
 ceived him run my way, and especially when, as I thought, 
 I saw him pursued by the whole party. However, I kept 
 my station, and my spirits began to recover when I found 
 that there were not above three men that followed him ; 
 and still more was I encouraged, when I found that he out- 
 stripped them exceedingly in running, and gained ground 
 on them, so that, if he could but hold out for half an hour, 
 I saw easily he would fairlj^ get away from them all. 
 
 There was between them and my castle the creek, which 
 T mentioned often in the first part of my story, Avhere I 
 landed my cargoes out of the ship ; and this I saw plainly 
 he must necessarily swim over, or the poor wretch would be 
 taken there ; but when the savage escaping came thither, 
 he made nothing of it, though the tide was then up, but 
 plunging in, swam through in about thirty strokes, or 
 thereabouts, landed, and ran with exceeding strength and 
 swiftness. When the three persons came to the creek, I 
 found that two of them could swim, but the third could not, 
 and that standing on the other side he looked at the others, 
 but went no farther, and soon after went softly back again ; 
 which, as it happened, was very well for him in the main. I 
 observed that the two who swam were yet more than twice 
 as long swimming over the creek as the fellow was that fled 
 from them. It came very warmly upon my thoughts, and, 
 
ROBINSON CRUSOE. 255 
 
 indeed, irresistibly, that now was the time to get me a ser- 
 vant, and perhaps, a companion or assistant ; and that I 
 was called plainly by Providence to save this poor creature's 
 life. 
 
 I immediately ran down the ladders with all possible ex- 
 pedition, fetched my two guns, for they were both at the 
 foot of the ladders, as I observed before, and getting up 
 again with the same haste to the top of the hill, I crossed 
 towards the sea, and having a very short cut, and all down 
 hill, clapped myself in the way between the pursuers and the 
 pursued, hallooing aloud to him that fled, who, looking back, 
 was at first, perhaps, as much frightened at me as at them ; 
 but I beckoned with my hand to him to come back, and in 
 the mean time, I slowly advanced towards the two that fol- 
 lowed ; then rushing at once upon the foremost, I knocked 
 him down with the stock of my piece. I was loath to fire, 
 because I would not have the rest hear ; though at that dis- 
 tance it would not have been easily heard, and being out of 
 sight of the smoke, too, they would not have easily known 
 what to make of it. Having knocked this fellow down, the 
 other, who pursued with him, stopped as if he had been 
 frighted, and I advanced apace towards him ; but as I came 
 nearer I perceived presently he had a bow and arrow, and 
 was fitting it to shoot at me ; so I was then necessitated to 
 shoot at him first, which I did, and killed him at the first 
 shot. 
 
 The poor savage who fled, but had stopped, though he 
 saw both his enemies fallen and killed as he thought, yet 
 was so frighted with the fire and noise of my piece, that 
 he stood stock still, and neither came forward nor went 
 backward, though he seemed rather inclined still to fly than 
 to come on. I hallooed again to him, and made signs to 
 
256 
 
 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 come forward, which he easily understood, and came a little 
 way, then stopped again, and then a little farther, and 
 stopped again; and I could then perceive that he stood 
 trembling as if he had been taken prisoner 
 and had just been to be killed, as his two 
 enemies were. I beckoned to 
 him again to come 
 ^.„ _ to me, and gave him 
 v -- — — all the signs of en- 
 couragement that I 
 could think of; and he 
 came nearer and nearer, 
 kneeling down every ten 
 or twelve steps in token 
 of acknowledg- 
 ment for my 
 
 FRIDAY SWEARINO ALLEGIANCE TO ROBINSON CRUSOE. 
 
 saving his life. I smiled at him, and looked pleasantly, and 
 beckoned to him to come still nearer. At length he came 
 close to me, and then he kneeled down again, kissed the 
 ground, and laid his head upon the ground, and, taking me 
 by the foot, set my foot upon his liead ; this, it seems, was 
 
ROBINSON CRUSOE. 257 
 
 in token of swearing to be my slave forever. I took him up 
 and made much of him, and encouraged him all I could. 
 
 But there was more work to do yet; for I perceived the 
 savage whom I had knocked down was not killed, but 
 stunned with the blow, and began to come to himself ; so I 
 pointed to him, and showed him the savage, that he was not 
 dead. Upon this he spoke some words to me, and though 
 I could not understand them, yet I thought they were 
 pleasant to hear, for they were the first sound of a man's 
 voice that I had heard, my own excepted, for above twenty- 
 five years. But there was no time for such reflections now. 
 The savage who was knocked down recovered himself so far 
 as to sit upon the ground, and I perceived that my savage 
 began to be afraid ; but when I saw that, I presented my 
 other piece at the man, as if I would shoot him. Upon 
 this, my savage, for so I call him now, made a motion to 
 me to lend him my sword, which hung naked in a belt by 
 my side, which I did. He no sooner had it, but he runs 
 to his enemy, and at one blow, cut off his head so cleverly, 
 no executioner in Germany could have done it sooner or 
 better, which I thought very strange for one who, I had 
 reason to believe, never saw a sword in his life before 
 except their own wooden swords; however, it seems, as 
 I learned afterwards, they make their wooden swords so 
 iharp, so heavy, and the wood is so hard, that they will cut 
 off heads even with them, ay, and arms, and that at one blow, 
 too. When he had done this, he comes laughing to me in 
 sign of triumph, and brought me the sword again, and with 
 abundance of gestures which I did not understand, laid it 
 down, with the head of the savage that he had killed, just 
 before me. But that which astonished him most was to 
 know how I killed the other Indian so far off ; so pointing 
 
 IS— 5u 
 
258 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 to him, he made signs to me to let him go to him, and I 
 bade him go as well as I could. 
 
 When he came to him, he stood like one amazed, looking 
 at him, turning him first on one side, then on the other ; 
 looked at the wound the bullet had made, which it seems 
 was just in his breast, where it "had made a hole, and no 
 great quantity of blood had followed ; but he had bled in- 
 wardly, for he was quite dead. He took up his bow and 
 arrows, and came back ; so I turned to go away, and beck- 
 oned him to follow me, making signs to him that more 
 might come after them. Upon this he signed to me that 
 he should bury them with sand, that they -might not be 
 seen by the rest, if they^ollowed ; and so I made signs to 
 him again to do so. He fell to work, and in an instant he 
 had scraped a hole in the sand with his -hands, big enpugh 
 to bury the first in, and then dragged him into it, and cov- 
 ered him, and did so also by the other. I believe he had 
 bui'ied them both in a quarter of an hour. ^Then calling 
 him away, I carried him, not to my castle, but quite away 
 to my cave, on the farther part of the island ; so I did not 
 let my dream come to pass in that part, that he came into 
 my grove for shelter. Here I gave him bread and a bunch 
 of raisins to eat, and a draught of water, which I found he 
 was indeed in great distress for, from his running ; and 
 having refreshed him, I made signs for him to go and lie 
 down to sleep, showing him a place where I had laid some 
 rice straw, and a blanket upon it, which I used to sleep 
 u[)on myself sometimes ; so the poor creature lay down and 
 went to sleep. 
 
 He was a comely, handsome fellow, perfectly well made, 
 with straight strong limbs, not too large, tall, and well 
 shaped ; and, as I reckon, about twenty-six years of age. 
 
ROBINSON CRUSOE: 259 
 
 He had a very good countenance, not a fierce and surly 
 aspect, but seemed to have something very manly in his 
 face; and yet he had all the sweetness and softness of a 
 European in his countenance too, especially when he smiled. 
 His hair was long and black, not curled like wool, his fore- 
 head very high and large, and a great vivacity and spark- 
 ling sharpness in his eyes. The color of the skin was not 
 quite black, but very tawny ; and yet not an ugly, yellow, 
 nauseous tawny, as the Brazilians and Virginians, and other 
 natives of America are, but of a bright kind of a dun olive- 
 color, that had in it something very agreeable, though not 
 very easy to describe. His face was round and plump, his 
 nose small, not flat like the Negroes ; a very good mouth, 
 thin lips, and his fine teeth well set, and as white as ivory. 
 
 After he had slumbered, rather tlian slept, about half an 
 hour, he awoke again, and came out of the cave to me; for 
 I had been milking my goats, which I had in the inclosure 
 just by. When he espied me, he came running to me, laying 
 himself down again upon the ground, with all the possible 
 signs of a humble, thankful disposition, making a ,great 
 many antic gestures to show it. At last he lays his head . 
 flat upon the ground, close to my foot, and sets my other 
 foot upon his head, as he had done before ; and after this 
 made all the signs to me of subjection, servitude, and sub- 
 mission imaginable, to let me know how he would serve me 
 so long as he lived. I understood him in many things, and 
 let him know I was very well pleased with him. In a little 
 time I began to speak to him, and teach him to speak to 
 me ; and, first, I let him know his name should be Friday, 
 which was the day I saved his life. I called him so for the 
 memory of- the time. I likewise taught him to say Master ; 
 and then let him know that was to be my name. I likewise 
 
260 A FIFTH READER. , 
 
 taught him to say Yes and No, and to know the meaning of 
 them. I gave him some milk in an earthen pot, and let him 
 see me drink it before him, and sop my bread in it ; and 
 gave him a cake of bread to do the like, which he quickly 
 cooiplied with, and made signs that it was very good for 
 him. I then led him up to the top of the hill, to see if his 
 enemies were gone, and pulling out my glass, I looked, and 
 saw plainly the place where they had been, but no appear- 
 ance of them or their canoes; so that it was plain they 
 were gone, and had left their two comrades behind them, 
 without any search after them. 
 
 VI. 
 
 THE next day, after I came home to my hutcji with Fri- 
 day, I began to consider where I should lodge him; 
 and that I might do well for him and yet be perfectly easy 
 myself, I made a little tent for him in the vacant place be- 
 tween my two fortifications, in the inside of the last, and in 
 the outside of the first. As there was a door or entrance there 
 into my cave, I made a formal framed door-case, and a door 
 to it of boards, and set it up in the passage, a little within 
 the entrance, and causing the door to open in the inside, I 
 barred it up in the night, taking i'li my ladder, too ; so that 
 Friday could no way come at me in- the inside of my inner- 
 most wall without making so much noise in getting over 
 that it must needs awaken me ; for my first wall had now a 
 complete roof over it of long poles, covering all my tent, 
 and leaning up to the side of the hill, which was again 
 laid across with smaller sticks, instead of laths, and then 
 thatched over a great thickness with the rice straw, wliich 
 was strong like reeds ; and at the hole or place which was 
 
ROBINSON CRUSOE. 261 
 
 left to go in or out by the ladder, I had placed a kind of a 
 trapdoor, which, if it had. been attempted, on the outside, 
 would not have opened at all, but would have fallen down 
 and made a great noise. As to weapons, I took them all into 
 my side every night. But I needed none of all this precau- 
 tion, for never a man had a more faithful, loving, sincere 
 servant than Friday was to me ; without 'passions, sullen- 
 ness, or designs, perfectly obliged and engaged. His very 
 affections were tied to me, like those of a child to a father ; 
 and I dare say he would have sacrificed his life to save 
 mine, upon any occasion whatsoever. The many testimonies 
 he gave me of this put it out of doubt, and soon convinced 
 me that I needed to use no precautions for my safety on his 
 account. 
 
 After I had been two or three days returned to my castle, 
 I thought that in order to bring Friday off from his horrid 
 way of feeding, and from the relish bf a cannibal's stomach, 
 I ought to let him taste other flesh : so I took him out with 
 me one morning to the woods. I went, indeed, intending 
 to kill a kid out of my own flock, and bring it home and 
 dress it ; but as I was going I saw a she-goat lying down 
 in the shade, and two young kids sitting by her. I catched 
 hold of Friday. " Hold," said I ; " stand still ; " and made 
 signs to him not to stir. Immediately I presented my piece, 
 shot and killed one of t"he kids; The poor creature, who 
 had, at a distance, indeed, seen me kill the savage, his 
 enemy, but did not know nor could imagine how it was 
 done, was sensibly surprised, trembled, and shook, and 
 looked so amazed that I thought he would have sunk down. 
 He did not see the kid I shot at, or perceive I had killed it, 
 but ripped up his waistcoat, to feel whether he was not 
 
262 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 wounded, and, as I found presently, thought I was resolved 
 to kill him; for he came and kneeled down to me, and 
 embracing my knees, said a great many things I did not 
 understand, but I could easily see the meaning was to 
 pray me not to kill him. 
 
 I soon found a way to convince him that I would do him 
 no harm ; and taking him up by the hand, laughed at him, 
 and pointing to the kid which I had killed, beckoned to 
 him to run and fetch it, which he did: and while he was 
 wondering, and looking to see how the creature was killed, 
 I loaded my gun again. By and by, I saw a great fowl, 
 like a hawk, sitting upon a tree within shot ; so, to let 
 Friday understand a little what I would do, I called him to 
 me again, pointed at the fowl, which was indeed a parrot, 
 though I thought it had been a hawk, — I say, pointing to 
 the parrot, to let him see I would make it fall, I made him 
 understand that I would shoot and kill that bird. Accord- 
 ingly, I fired, and bade him look, and immediately he saw 
 the parrot fall. He stood like one frightened again, not- 
 withstanding all I said to him: and I found he was the 
 more amazed, because he did not see me put anything into 
 the gun, but thought that there must be some wonderful 
 fund of death and destruction in that thing, abl^ to kill 
 man, beast, bird, or anything near or far off ; and the aston- 
 ishment this created in him was such as could not wear off 
 for a long time, and I believe, if I would have let him, he 
 would have worshiped me and my gun. As for the gun 
 itself, he would not so much as touch it for several days 
 after ; but he would speak to it and talk to it, as if it had 
 answered him, when he was by himself, which, as I after- 
 wards learned of him, was to desire it not to kill him. 
 
 Well, after his astonishment was a little over at this, I 
 
V 
 
 ROBINSON CRUSOE. 263 
 
 pointed to him to run and fetch the bird I had shot, which 
 he did, but stayed some time ; for the parrot, not being 
 quite dead, had fluttered away a good distance from the 
 place where she fell. However, he found her, took her up, 
 and brought her to me, and as I had perceived his igno- 
 rance about the gun before, I took this advantage to charge 
 the gun again, and not to let him see me do it, that I 
 might be ready for any other mark that might present, but 
 nothing more offered at that time ; so I brought home the 
 kid, and the same evening I took the skin off, and cut it 
 out as well as I could, and having a pot for that purpose, 
 I boiled or stewed some of the flesh, and made some very 
 good broth. After I had begun to eat some, I gave some 
 to my man, who seemed very glad of it, and liked it very 
 well; but that which was strangest to him was to see me 
 eat salt with it. He made a sign to me that the salt was 
 not good to eat, and putting a little into his mouth, he 
 seemed to nauseate it, and would spit and sputter at it, 
 washing his mouth with fresh water after it. On the other 
 hand, I took some meat into my mouth without salt, and 
 pretended to spit and sputter for want of salt, as much as 
 he had done at the salt, but it would not do; he would 
 never care for salt with his meat or in his broth, at least 
 not for a great while, and then but a very little. 
 
 Having thus fed him with boiled meat and brotll, I was 
 resolved to feast him the next day by roasting a piece of 
 the kid. This I did by hanging it before the fire on a string, 
 as I had seen many people do in Englapd, setting two poles 
 up, one on each side of the fire, and one across on the top, 
 and tying the string to the cross stick, letting the meat turn 
 continually. This Friday admired very much; but when 
 he came to taste the flesh, he took so many ways to tell me 
 
264 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 how well he liked it, that I could not but understand him, 
 and at last he told me, as well as he could, he would never 
 eat man's flesh any more, which I was very glad to hear. 
 
 The next day I set him to work to beating some corn 
 out, and sifting it in the manner I used to do, as I ob- 
 served before ; and he soon understood how to do it as well 
 as I, especially after he had seen what the meaning of it 
 was, and that it was to make bread of ; for after that, I let 
 him see me make my bread, and bake it too, and in a little 
 time, Friday was able to do all the work for me, as well as 
 I could do it myself. 
 
 I was fast asleep in my hutch one morning, when my man 
 Friday came running in to me, and called aloud, " Master, 
 Master, they are come, they are come." I jumped up, and 
 regardless of danger, I went out as soon as I could get my 
 clothes on, through my little grove, which, by the way, was 
 by this time grown to be a very thick wood. I say, regard- 
 less of danger, I went out without my arms which was not 
 my custom to do ; but I was surprised, when, turning my 
 eyes to the sea, I presently saw a boat at about a league and 
 a half distance, standing in for the shore, with a shoulder-of- 
 mutton sail, as they call it, and the wind blowing pretty 
 fair to bring them in ; also I observed, presently, that they 
 did not come from the side which the shore lay on, but 
 from the southernmost end of the island. Upon this I 
 called Friday in, and bade him lie close, for these were not 
 the people we looked for, and that we might not know yet 
 whether they were friends or enemies. In the next place, I 
 went in to fetch my perspective-glass, to see what I could 
 make of them ; and having taken the ladder out, I climbed 
 up to the top of the hill, as I used to do when I was appre- 
 
ROBINSON CRUSOE. 
 
 265 
 
 hensive of anything, and to take my view the plainer, with- 
 out being discovered. I had scai-ce set my foot upon the 
 hill, when my eye plainly discovered a ship lying at an 
 anchor, at about two leagues and a half distance from me 
 south-southeast, but not above a league and a half from the 
 
 KESCUE OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 
 
 shore. By my observation, it appeared plainly to be an Eng- 
 lish ship, and the boat appeared to be an English long-boat. 
 
 When I took leave of this island, I carried on board, for 
 
266 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 relics, the great goat-skin cap I had made, my umbrella, 
 and my parrot; also I forgot not to take the money I 
 formerly mentioned, which had lain by me so long useless 
 that it had grown rusty or tarnished, and could hardly pass 
 for silver till it had been a little rubbed and handled, as 
 also the money I found in the wreck of the Spanish ship. 
 And thus I left the island, the I9th of December, as I 
 found by the ship's account, in the year 1686, after I had 
 been upon it eight-and-twenty years, two months, and nine- 
 teen days, being delivered from this second captivity the 
 same day of the month that I first made my escape in the 
 long-boat, from among the Moors of Sallee. In this vessel, 
 after a long voyage, I arrived in England the 11th of June, 
 in the year 1687, having been thirty-and-five years absent. 
 
 xLviii. harold:s song. 
 
 By Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 OH, listen, listen, ladies gay! 
 No haughty feat of arms I tell ; 
 Soft is the note, and sad the lay, 
 That mourns the lovely Rosabelle. 
 
 "Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant crew I 
 And, gentle ladye, deign to stay I 
 
 Rest thee in Castle Ravensheuch, i 
 
 Nor tempt the stormy firth to-day. 
 
 "The blackening wave is edged with white; 
 
 To inch and rock the sea mews fly: 
 The fishers have heard the Water Sprite, 
 
 Whose scream^ forebode that wreck is nigh. 
 
A FIFTH READEP. 267 
 
 "Last night the gifted Seer did view 
 A wet shroud swathed round ladye gay; 
 
 Then- stay thee, fair, in Ravensheuch : 
 Why cross the gloomy firth to-day ? " 
 
 " 'T is not because Lord Lindesay's heir 
 
 To-night at Roslin leads the ball, 
 But that my ladye-mother there 
 
 Sits lonely in her castle hall. 
 
 " 'T is not because the ring they ride. 
 And Lindesay at the ring rides well, 
 
 But that my sire the wine will chide 
 If 't is not filled by Rosabelle." 
 
 O'er Roslin all that dreary night 
 
 A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam 5 
 
 'Twas broader than the watch fire light. 
 And redder than the bright moonbeam. 
 
 It glared on Roslin's castled rock. 
 
 It ruddied all the copse wood glen; 
 'T was seen from Dreyden's groves of oak, 
 
 And seen from caverned Hawthornden. 
 
 Seemed all on fire that chapel proud 
 Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffined lie, 
 
 Each baron, for a sable shroud. 
 Sheathed in his iron panoply. 
 
 Seemed all on fire within, around, 
 
 Deep sacristry and altar's pale; 
 Shone every pillar fpliage-bound. 
 
 And glimmered all the dead men's maiL 
 
268 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Blazed battlement and pinnet high, 
 
 Blazed every rose-carved buttress fair — 
 
 So still they blaze when fate is nigh 
 The lordly line of high Saint Clair. 
 
 There are twenty of KoslinV barons bold 
 Lie buried within that proud chapelle; 
 
 Each one the holy vault doth hold — 
 But the sea holds lovely Rosabelle I 
 
 And each Saint Clair was buried there, 
 With candle, and with book and knell; 
 
 But the sea caves rung, and the wild winds sung 
 The dirge of lovely Rosabelle. 
 
 From '* The Lay of the Last Minstrel.*^ 
 
 XLIX. MAKING MAPLE SUGAR. 
 
 By Charles Dudley Warner. 
 
 I THINK there is no part of farming which the boy^ 
 enjoy more than the making of maple sugar. It is 
 better than blackberrying, and nearly as good as fishing ; 
 and one reason why he likes this work is, that somebody 
 else does the most of it. It is a sort of work in which he 
 can appear to be very active, and yet not do much. 
 
 In my day, maple sugar making used to be something 
 between picnicking and being shipwrecked on a fertile 
 island, where one should save from the wreck tubs, and 
 augers, and great kettles, and hen's eggs, and rye-and- 
 Indian bread, and begin at once to lead the sweetest life 
 
MAKING MAPLE SUGAR. 269 
 
 in the world. I am told that it is something different 
 nowadays, and that there is now more desire to save the 
 sap, and make good, pure sugar, and sell it for a large price, 
 than there used to be ; and that the whole fun and poetry 
 of the business^are pretty much gone. 
 
 As I remember the New England boy (and I am very 
 intimate with one) he used to be on the watch in tlie spring 
 for the sap to come. Perhaps he knew it by a feeling of 
 something starting in his own veins, — a sort of a spring 
 stir in his legs and arms, which tempted him to stand on his 
 head, or throw a handspring, if he could find a spot of ground 
 from which the snow had melted. 
 
 Perhaps the boy has been out digging into the maple trees 
 with his jackknife ; at any rate, he comes into the house in 
 a good state of excitement — as if he had heard a hen cackle 
 in the barn — with, "Sap 's runnin' ! " 
 
 Then indeed the stir and excitement begin. The sap 
 buckets, which have been stored in the garret over the 
 woodhouse, are brought down and set out on the south side 
 of the house, and scalded. The boy is everywhere present, 
 superintending everything, asking questions, and filled with 
 a desire to help on the excitement. 
 
 It is a great day when the sled is loaded with buckets, 
 and the procession starts for the woods. The sun shines 
 almost unobstructedly into the forest, for there are only 
 naked branches to bar it ; the snow is beginning to sink 
 down, leaving the young bushes spindling up ever}^- 
 where ; the snowbirds are twittering about, and the noise 
 of shouting, and the blows of the ax, echo far and 
 wide. 
 
 In the first place, the men go about and tap the trees, 
 drive in the spouts, and put the buckets under. The boy 
 
270 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 watches all this with the greatest interest. He wishes that, 
 sometimes, when a hole is bored in a tree, the sap would 
 spout out in a stream, as it does when a cider barrel is 
 tapped, but it never does : it only drops, — sometimes al- 
 most in a stream, but, on the whole, slowly, — and the boy 
 learns that the sweet things of the world do not come other- 
 wise than drop by drop. 
 
 "^hen the camp is to be cleared of snow. The shanty is 
 re-covered with boughs. In front of it two enormous logs 
 are rolled nearly together, and a fire is built between them. 
 Upright posts with crotches at the top are set, one at each 
 end, and a long pole is laid on them ; and on this are hung 
 the great caldron kettles. 
 
 The huge hogsheads are turned right side up and 
 cleaned out, to receive the sap that is gathered. And 
 now if there is a good "sap run," the establishment is 
 under full headway. 
 
 The great fire that is kindled in the sugar camp is not 
 allowed to go out, night or day, so long as the sugar season 
 lasts. Somebody is always cutting wood to feed it; some- 
 body is busy most of the time gathering in the sap ; some- 
 body is required to fill the kettles and see that the sap does 
 not boil over. 
 
 It is not the boy, however ; he is too busy with things in 
 general to be of any use in details. He has his own little 
 sap-yoke and small pails, with which he gathers the sweet 
 liquid. lie has a little boiling place of his own, with small 
 logs and a tiny kettle. 
 
 In the great kettles the boiling goes on slowly, and the 
 liquid, as it thickens, is dipped from one to the other, until 
 in the end kettle it is reduced to syrup, and is taken out to 
 cool and settle, until enough is made to " sugar off." To 
 
MAKING MAPLE SUGAR. 271 
 
 '* sugar off " is to boil the syrup till it is thick enough 
 to crystallize into sugar. This is the grand event, and is 
 only done once in two or three days. 
 
 Rut the boy's desire is to " sugar off " perpetually. He 
 boils his syrup down as rapidly as possible ; he is not par- 
 ticular about chips, scum, or ashes ; he is apt to burn his 
 sugar ; but if he can get enough to make a little wax on the 
 snow, or to scrape from the bottom of the kettle, with his 
 wooden paddle, he is happy. A great deal is wasted on his 
 hands and the outside of his face and his clothes, but he 
 does not care — he is nOt stingy. 
 
 To watch the operations of the big fire gives him constant 
 pleasure. Sometimes he is left to watch the boiling kettles. 
 He has a piece of pork tied on the end of a stick, which he 
 dips into the boiling mass, when it threatens to go over. 
 
 He is constantly tasting the sap to see if it is not al- 
 most syrup. He has a long round stick, whittled smooth 
 at the end, which he uses for this purpose, at the constant 
 risk of burning his tongue. 
 
 The smoke blows in his face ; he is grimy with ashes ; he 
 is altogether such a mass of dirt, stickiness, and sweetness 
 that his own mother would n't know him. He likes, w^ith 
 the hired man, to boil eggs in the hot syrup ; he likes to 
 roast potatoes in the ashes ; and he would live in the camp 
 day and night if he were permitted. 
 
 Some of the hired men sleep in the shanty and keep the 
 fire blazing all night. To sleep there with them, and awake in 
 the night and hear the wind in the trees, and see the sparks 
 fly up in the sky, is a perfect realizatioa of. all the adven- 
 tures he has ever read. He tells the other boy, afterward, 
 that he heard something in the night that sounded very 
 much like a bear. The hired man says that he was very 
 
272 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 much scared by the hooting of an owl. The great occa- 
 sions for the boy, though, are the times of the *' sugaring 
 off." Sometimes this used to be done in the evening and 
 it was made the excuse for a frolic in the camp. The 
 neighbors were invited, and sometimes even the pretty 
 girls from the village, who filled all the woods with their 
 sweet voices and merry laughter and little affectations of 
 fright. 
 
 At these sugar parties, every one was expected to eat as 
 much sugar as possible ; and those who are practiced in it 
 can eat a great deal. It is a peculiarit}^ about eating warm 
 maple sugar, that, though you eat so much of it one day 
 jas to be sick and loathe the thought of it, you will want it 
 the next day more than ever. 
 
 At the " sugaring off '' they used to pour the hot sugar 
 upon the snow, where it congealed into a sort of wax, with- 
 out crystallizing ; which, I do suppose, is the most delicious 
 substance that was ever invented ; but it takes a great while 
 to eat it. If one should close his teeth firmly on a ball of 
 it, he would be unable to open his mouth until it was 
 dissolved. The sensation, while it is melting, is very pleas- 
 ant, 'but one cannot talk. 
 
 The boy used to make a big lump of this sugar wax and 
 give it to the dog, who seized it with great avidity and 
 closed his jaws on it, as dogs will do on anything. It Avas 
 funny, the next moment, to see the expression of surprise on 
 the dog's face, when he found he could not open his jaws. 
 He shook his head ; he sat down in despair ; he ran 
 round in a circle ; he dashed into the woods and back again. 
 He did everything except climb a tree and howl. It would 
 have been such a relief to him if lie could have hoAvled, but 
 tliat was the one thing he could not do. 
 
ESCAPE FROM A PANTHER. 
 
 273 
 
 L. ESCAPE FROM A PANTHER, 
 
 By James Fenimore Cooper. 
 
 James Fenimore Cooper 
 (1789-1851) was the first 
 American novelist to gain 
 celebrity for his writings out- 
 side of our own country. His 
 strongest stories are those 
 of Indian life and of the 
 sea. The " Leatherstocking 
 Tales " rank among his best, 
 although his Indian charac- 
 ters generally are endowed 
 with too many noble traits 
 for strict fidelity to the 
 truth. " The Pioneers," from 
 which the following extract 
 is taken, is one of this 
 series. The other Leather- 
 stocking Tales are " The 
 Last of the Mohicans," " The 
 Prairie," "The Pathfinder," 
 
 and " The Deerslayer." " The Spy," a Revolutionary story, was perhaps 
 Cooper's most successful novel, although " The Pilot " and others of his 
 sea-stories gained an almost equal popularity. Cooper's monument at 
 Cooperstown, N. Y., is a tall shaft surmounted by a figure of Leather- 
 stocking. 
 
 ELIZABETH TEMPLE and Louisa had gained the 
 summit of the mountain, where they left the high- 
 way, and pursued their course under the shade of the stately 
 trees that crowned the eminence. The day was becoming 
 warm ; and the giils plunged more deeply into the forest, 
 
 19 — 5r 
 
 JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 
 
S74 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 as they found its invigorating coolness agreeably contrasted 
 to the excessive heat they had experienced in their ascent. 
 The convei-sation, as if by mutual consent, was entirely 
 changed to the little incidents and scenes of their walk ; 
 and every tall pine, and every shrub and flower, called forth 
 some simple expression of admiration. 
 
 In this manner they proceeded along the margin of the 
 precipice, catching occasional glimpses of the placid Otsego, 
 or pausing to listen to the rattling of wheels and the sounds 
 of hammers that rose from the valley to mingle the signs 
 of men with the scenes of nature, when Elizabeth suddenly 
 started, and exclaimed : " Listen I there are the cries of a 
 child on this mountain. Can some little one be strayed from 
 its parents ? It may be a wanderer, starving on the hill.'* 
 
 Urged by this consideration, the females pursued the low, 
 mournful sounds that proceeded from the forest, with quick 
 
 and impatient steps. More than 
 once the ardent Elizabeth was 
 on the point of announcing 
 that she saw the sufferer, when 
 Louisa caught her by the arm, 
 and, pointing behind them, 
 cried, " Look at the dog ! " 
 j^ — The advanced age of Brave 
 
 had long before deprived him 
 of his activity ; and when his companions had stopped to 
 view the scenery or to add to their bouquets, the mastiff 
 would lay his huge frame on the ground, and await their 
 movements with his eyes closed and a listlessness in his 
 air that ill accorded with the character of a protector. 
 
 But when, aroused by this cry from Louisa, Miss Temple 
 turned, she saw the dog with his eyes keenly set on some 
 
ESCAPE FROM A PANTHER. 275 
 
 distant object, his head bent near the ground, and his hair 
 actually rising on his bod}^, either through fright or anger. 
 It was most probably the latter ; for he was growling in a 
 low key, and occasionally showing his teeth in a manner 
 that would have terrified his mistress had she not so well 
 known his good qualities. 
 
 " Brave ! " she said, '' be quiet. Brave ! what do you 
 see, fellow ? " At the sounds of her voice, the rage of the 
 mastiff, instead of being at all diminished, was very sensibly 
 increased. He stalked in front of the ladies, and seated 
 himself at the feet of his mistress, growling louder than 
 before, and occasionally giving vent to his ire by a short, 
 surly barking. 
 
 " What does he see ? " said Elizabeth ; " there must be 
 some animal in sight." Hearing no answer from her com- 
 panion. Miss Temple turned her head, and beheld Louisa, 
 standing with her face whitened to the color of death, and 
 her finger pointing upward, with a sort of flickering, con- 
 vulsed motion. 
 
 The quick eye of Elizabeth glanced in the direction in- 
 dicated by that of her friend, where she saw the fierce front 
 and glaring eyes of a female panther, fixed on them 
 in horrid malignity and threatening instant destruction. 
 " Let us fly ! " exclaimed Elizabeth, grasping the arm of 
 Louisa, whose form yielded like melting snow. 
 
 There was not a single feeling in the temperament of 
 Elizabeth Temple that could prompt her to leave a com- 
 panion in such an extremity; and she fell on her knees 
 by the side of the inanimate Louisa, tearing from the per- 
 son of her friend, with an instinctive readiness, such parts of 
 her dress as might obstruct her respiration, and encouraging 
 their only safeguard, the dog, at the same time, by the sounds 
 
276 
 
 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 of her voice. "Courage, Bmve! " she cried, — her own tones 
 beginning to tremble, — " courage, courage, good Brave I " 
 A quarter-grown cub, that had hitherto been unseen, 
 now appeared dropping from the branches of a sapling, that 
 grew under the shade of a beech which held its dam. This 
 ignorant but vicious creature approached near the dog, imi- 
 tating the actions and sounds of its parent, but exhibiting 
 a strange mixture of the playful- 
 ness of a kitten with the ferocity ^^\ 
 of its race. Standing on its ' '^ 
 
 hind legs, it would rend the 
 bark of a tree with its foro /, 
 
 ATTACKED BY A PANTHER. 
 
 paws, and play all the antics of a cat for a moment ; and 
 then, by lashing itself with its tail, growling, and scratch- 
 ing the earth, it would attempt the manifestations of anger 
 that rendered its parent so terrific. 
 
 All this time Brave stood firm and undaunted, his short 
 tail erect, his body drawn backward on its haunches, and his 
 eyes following the movements of both dam and cub. At 
 
ESCAPE FROM A PANTHER. 277 
 
 every gambol played by the latter, it approached nigher to 
 the dog, the growling of the three becoming more horrid 
 at each moment, until the younger beast, overleaping its 
 intended bound, fell directly before the mastiff. 
 
 There was a moment of fearful cries and struggles ; but 
 they ended almost as soon as commenced, by the cub appear- 
 ing in the air, hurled from the jaws of Brave with a violence 
 that sent it against a tree so forcibly as to render it com- 
 pletely senseless. Elizabeth witnessed the short struggle, 
 and her blood was warming with the triumph of the dog, 
 when she saw the form of the old panther in the air, spring- 
 ing twenty feet from the branch of the beech to the back of 
 the mastiff. No words of ours can describe the fury of the 
 conflict that followed. It was a confused struggle on the 
 dried leaves, accompanied by loud and terrible cries, barks, 
 and growls. Miss Temple continued on her knees, bending 
 over the form of Louisa, her eyes fixed on the animals 
 with an interest so horrid, and yet so intense, that she 
 almost forgot her own stake in the result. 
 
 So rapid and vigorous were the bounds of the inhabitant 
 of. the forest . that its active frame seemed constantly in 
 the air, while the dog nobly faced his foe at each successive 
 leap. When the panther lighted on the shoulders of the 
 mastiff, which was its constant aim, old Brave, though torn 
 with her talons, and stained with his own blood, that 
 already flowed from a dozen wounds, would shake off his 
 furious foe like a feather, and, rearing on his hind legs, 
 rush to the fray again, with his jaws distended and a 
 dauntless eye: But age and his pampered life greatly dis- 
 qualified the noble mastiff for such a struggle. In every- 
 thing but courage he was only the vestige of what he had 
 once been. A higher bound than ever raised the furious 
 
S78 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 beast far beyond the reach of the dog, — who was making 
 a desperate but fruitless dash at her, — from which she 
 alighted, in a favorable position, on the back of the dog. For 
 a moment only could the panther remain there ; the great 
 strength of the dog returned with a convulsive effort. 
 
 But Elizabeth saw, as Brave fastened his teeth in the side 
 of his enemy, that the collar of brass around his neck was 
 the color of blood, and, directly, that his frame was sinking 
 to the earth, where it soon lay, prostrate and helpless. 
 Several mighty efforts of the wild cat to extricate herself 
 from the jaws of the dog followed, but they were fruitless 
 until the mastiff turned on his back, his lips collapsed, and 
 his teeth loosened; when the short convulsions and stillness 
 that succeeded announced the death of poor Brave. 
 
 Elizabeth now lay wholly at the mercy of the beast. 
 The eyes of the monster and the kneeling maiden met for 
 an instant when the former stooped to examine her fallen 
 foe ; next, to scent her luckless cub. From the latter 
 examination it turned, however, with its eyes apparently 
 emitting flashes of fire, its tail lashing its sides furiously, 
 and its claws projecting for inches beyond its broad feet. 
 
 The moment seemed now to have arrived for the fatal 
 termination ; and the beautiful figure of Elizabeth was bow- 
 ing meekly to the stroke, when a rustling from behind 
 seemed rather to mock the organs than to meet her ears. 
 " Hist ! hist ! " said a low voice ; " stoop lower, gal ; your 
 bonnet hides the creature's head." 
 
 It was rather the yielding of nature than a compliance 
 with this unexpected order that caused the head of our 
 heroine to sink on her bosom ; when she heard the report of 
 the rifle, the whizzing of the bullet, and the enraged cries of 
 the beast, who was rolling on the earth, biting its own flesh, 
 
THE ROMANCE OF THE SWAN'S NEST. 
 
 279 
 
 and tearing the twigs and branches within its reach. At 
 the next instant the form of the Leather-stocking rushed 
 by her, and he called aloud : " Come in, Hector, you old 
 fool ; 't is a hard-lived animal, and may jump ag'in." 
 
 Natty most fearlessly maintained his position in front 
 of the maidens, notwithstanding the violent bounds and 
 threatening aspect of the wounded panther, which gave 
 several indications of returning strength and ferocity, until 
 his rifle was again loaded, when he stepped up to the en- 
 raged animal, and, placing the muzzle close to its head, 
 every spark of life was extinguished by the discharge. 
 
 From " The Pioneers.''^ 
 
 • LI. THE ROMANCE OF THE SWAN'S NEST. 
 
 By Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 
 
 ITTLE Ellie sits alone 
 'Mid the beeches of a meadow, 
 By a stream-side on the grass, 
 And the trees are showering down 
 Doubles of their leaves in shadow, 
 On her shining hair and face. 
 
S80 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 She has thrown her bonnet by, 
 And her feet she has been dipping, 
 In the shallow water's flow; 
 Now she holds them nakedly 
 
 In her hands, all sleek and dripping 
 While she rocketh to and fro. 
 
 Little Ellie sits alone. 
 
 And the smile she softly uses 
 Fills the silence like a speech. 
 While she thinks what shall be done, 
 And the sweetest pleasure chooses 
 For her future within reach. 
 
 Little Ellie, in her smile, 
 
 Chooses, " I will have a lover 
 Riding on a steed of steeds; 
 He shall love me without guile. 
 And to him I will discover 
 
 The swan's nest among the reeds. 
 
 "And the steed shall be red-roan, 
 And the lover shall be noble, 
 
 With an eye that takes the breath; 
 And the lute he plays upon 
 Shall strike ladies into trouble, 
 
 And his sword strike men to death. 
 
 "And the steed it shall be shod 
 All in silver, housed in azure ; 
 
 And the mane shall swim the wind; 
 And the hoofs along the sod 
 
 Shall flasii onward, and keep measure, 
 Till the shepherds look behind. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF THE SWAN'S NEST. 281 
 
 "But my lover will not prize 
 All the glory that he rides in, 
 When he gazes in my face. 
 He will say, 'O Love, thine eyes 
 Build the shrine my soul abides in, 
 And I kneel here for thy grace ! ' 
 
 '' Then, ay, then he shall kneel low, 
 With the red-roan steed anear him. 
 Which shall seem to understand. 
 Till I answer, 'Rise and go.' 
 
 For the world must love and fear him 
 Whom I gift with heart and hand. 
 
 "Then he will arise so pale, 
 
 I shall feel my own lips tremble 
 With a ' yes ' I must not say : 
 Nathless maiden-brave, ' Farewell,' 
 I will utter and dissemble ; — 
 'Light to-morrow with to-day!' 
 
 " Then he '11 ride among the hills 
 To the wide world past the river, 
 There to put away all wrong, 
 To make straight distorted wills. 
 And to empty the broad quiver 
 Which the wicked bear along. 
 
 "Three times shall a young foot-page 
 
 Swim the stream, and climb the mountain, 
 And kneel down beside my feet: 
 *Lo! my master sends this gage. 
 Lady, for thy pity's counting. 
 
 What wilt thou exchange for it?' 
 
282 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 "And the first time I will send 
 A white rosebud for a guerdon, 
 And the second time, a glove; 
 But the third time \ may bend 
 
 From my pride, and answer, — ' Pardon, 
 If he comes to take my love.' 
 
 "Then the young foot-page will run; 
 Then my lover will ride faster, 
 Till he kneeleth at my knee: 
 *I am a duke's eldest son, 
 
 Thousand serfs do call me master, 
 But, O Love, I love but thee!* 
 
 "He will kiss me on the mouth 
 Then, and lead me as a lover 
 
 Through the crowds that praise his deeds. 
 And, when soul-tied by one troth, 
 Unto him I will discover 
 
 That swan's nest among the reeds." 
 
 Little Ellie with her smile 
 Not yet ended, rose up gayly, 
 
 Tied the bonnet, donned the shoe. 
 And went homeward, round a mile. 
 Just to see, as she did daily, 
 
 What more eggs were with the two. 
 
 Pushing through the elm-tree copse. 
 Winding up the stream, light-hearted, 
 Where the osier pathway leads. 
 Past the boughs slie stoops and stops. 
 Lo^ the wild swan had deserted, 
 And a rat had gnawed the reeds! 
 
THE STORY OF JOSEPH. 283 
 
 Ellie went home sad and slow. 
 If she found the lover ever, 
 
 With his red-roan steed of steeds, 
 Sooth I know not; but I know 
 
 She could never show him — never, 
 That swan's nest among the reeds. 
 
 LII. THE STORY OF JOSEPH. 
 
 Genesis, Chapters xxxvii-xlv. 
 
 AND Jacob dwelt in the land wherein his father was 
 a stranger, in the land of Canaan. These are the 
 generations of Jacob. Joseph, being seventeen years old, 
 was feeding the flock with his brethren ; and the lad was 
 with the sons of Bilhah, and with the sons of Zilpah, his 
 father's wives ; and Joseph brought unto his father their 
 evil report. Now Israel loved Joseph more than all his 
 children, because he was the son of his old age : and he 
 made him a coat of many colors. And when his brethren 
 saw that their father loved him more than all his brethren, 
 -they hated him, and could not speak peaceably unto him. 
 
 And Joseph dreamed a dream, and he told it his breth- 
 ren : and they hated him yet the more. And he said unto 
 them. Hear, I pray you, this dream which I have dreamed : 
 For, behold, we were binding sheaves in the field, and, lo, 
 my sheaf arose, and also stood upright ; and, behold, your 
 sheaves stood round about, and made obeisance to my 
 sheaf. And his brethren said to him, Shalt thou indeed 
 reign over us? or shalt thou indeed have dominion over 
 us? And they hated him yet the more for his dreams 
 and for his words. 
 
284 
 
 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 And he dreamed yet another dream, and told it his 
 brethren, and said, Behold, I have dreamed a dream more ; 
 and, behold, the sun and the moon and the eleven stars 
 made obeisance to me. And he told it to his father, and 
 to his brethren : and his father rebuked him, and said unto 
 him, What is this dream that thou hast dreamed ? Shall 
 
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 JOSEPH'S DREAMS. 
 
 I and thy mother and thy brethren indeed come to bow 
 down ourselves to thee to the earth ? And his brethren 
 envied him ; but his father observed the saying. 
 
 And his brethren weiit to feed their father's flock in 
 Shechem. And Israel said unto Joseph, Do not thy breth- 
 ren feed the flock in Shechem ? Come, and I will send thee 
 unto them. And he said to him. Here am I. And he said 
 
THE STORY OF JOSEPH. 285 
 
 to him, Go, I pray thee, see whether it be well with thy 
 brethren, anql well with the flocks; and bring me word 
 again. So he sent him out of the vale of Hebron, and he 
 came to Shechem. " 
 
 And a certain man found him, and, behold, he was wan- 
 dering in the field : and the man asked him, saying. What 
 seekest thou ? And he said, I seek my brethren : tell me, 
 I pray thee, where they feed their flocks. And the man 
 said, They are departed hence; for I heard them say, Let 
 us go to Dothan. And Joseph went after his brethren, and 
 found them in Dothan. And when they saw him afar off, 
 even before he came near unto them, they conspired against 
 him to slay him. And they said one to another. Behold, 
 this di'eamer cometh. Come now therefore, and let us slay 
 him, and cast him into some pit, and we will say. Some 
 evil beast hath devoured him : and we shall see what will 
 become of his dreams. And Reuben heard it, and he de- 
 livered him out of their hands ; and said, Let us not kill 
 him. And Reuben said unto them, Shed no blood, but 
 cast him into this pit that is in the wilderness, and lay no 
 hand upon him ; that he might rid him out of their hands, 
 to deliver him to his father again* 
 
 And it came to pass, when Joseph was come unto his 
 brethren, that they stripped Joseph out of his coat, his coat of 
 many colors that was on him ; and they took him, and cast 
 him into a pit : and the pit was empty, there was no water 
 in it. And they sat down to eat bread :, and they lifted up 
 their eyea and looked, and, behold, a company of Ishmael- 
 ites came from Gilead, with their camels bearing spicery 
 and baljn and myrrji,, going to carry it down to Egypt. 
 And Judah said unto his brethren, What profit is it if we 
 slay our brother, and conceal his blood? Come, and let us 
 
286 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 sell him to the Ishmaelites, and let not our hand be upon 
 him ; for he is our brother and our flesh. And his brethren 
 were extent. Then there passed by Midianites merchant- 
 men ; and they drew and lifted up Joseph out of the pit, 
 and sold Joseph to the Ishmaelites for twenty pieces of 
 silver : and they brought Joseph into Egypt. 
 
 And Reuben returned unto the pit; and, behold, Joseph 
 was not in the pit ; and he rent his clothes. 
 
 And he returned unto his brethren, and said, The child 
 is not ; and T, whither shall I go ? And they took Joseph's 
 coat, and killed a kid of the goats, and dipped the coat in 
 the blood ; and they sent the coat of many colors, and they 
 brought it to their father, and said, This have we found : 
 know now whether it be thy son's coat or no. And he 
 knew it, and said, It is my son's coat ; an evil beast hath 
 devoured him , Joseph is without doubt rent in pieces. 
 And Jacob rent his clothes, and put sackcloth upon his 
 loins, and mourned for his son many days. And all his 
 sons and all his daughters rose up to comfort him ; but he 
 refused to be comforted ; and he said. For I will go down 
 into the grave unto my son mourning. Thus his father 
 wept for him. And the Midianites' sold him into Egypt 
 unto Potiphar, an officer of Pharaoh's, and captain of the 
 guard. And Joseph was brought down to Egypt, and 
 Potiphar, an officer of Pharaoh, captain of the guard, an 
 Egyptian, bought him of the hands of the Ishmaelites, 
 which had brought him down thither. And the Lord was 
 with Joseph, and he was a prosperous man ; and he was in 
 the house of his master the Egyptian. And his master 
 saw that the Lord was with him, and that the Lord made 
 all that he did to prosper in his hand. And Joseph found 
 grace in his sight, and he served him : and he made him 
 
'The story of Joseph. 287 
 
 overseer over his house, and all that he had he put into his 
 hand. And it came to pass from the time that he made 
 him overseer in his house, and over all that he had, that 
 the Lord blessed the Egyptian's house for Joseph's sake ; 
 and the blessing of the Lord was upon all that he had in 
 the house, and in the field. And he left all that he had in , 
 Joseph's hand ; and he knew not aught he had, save the 
 bread which he did eat. And Joseph was a goodly person, 
 and well favored. 
 
 And Joseph's master took him, and put him into the 
 prison, a place where the king's prisoners were bound: 
 and he was there in the prison. 
 
 A 
 
 And it came to, pass at the end of two full years, that 
 
 Pharaoh dreamed : and, behold, he stood by the river. And, 
 behold, there came up out of the river seven well-favored 
 kine and fat-fleshed ; and they fed in a meadow. And, be- 
 hold, seven other kine came up after them out of the river, 
 ill-favored and lean-fleshed, and stood by the other kine 
 upon the brink of the river. And the ill-favored and lean- 
 fleshed kine did eat up the seven well-favored and fat kine. 
 So Pharaoh awoke. And he slept and dreamed the second 
 time: and, behold, seven ears of corn came up upon one 
 stalk, rank and good. And, behold, seven thin ears and 
 blasted with the east wind sprung up after them. And the 
 seven thin ears devoured the seven rank and full ears. And 
 Pharaoh awoke, and, behold, it was a dream. And it came 
 to pass in the morning that his spirit was troubled ; and he 
 sent and called for all the magicians of Egypt, and all the 
 wise men thereof: and Pharaoh told them his dream; but 
 there was none that could injerprgt them unto Pharaoh. 
 
S88 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Then spake the chief butler unto Pharaoh, saying, I do 
 remember my faults this day : Pharaoh was wroth with his 
 servants, and pilt me in ward in the captain of the guard's 
 house, both me and the chief baker : and we dreamed a dream 
 in one night, I and he : we dreamed each man according to 
 the interpretation of his dream. And there was there with 
 us a young man, a Hebrew, servant to the captain of the 
 guard; and we told him, and he interpreted to us our 
 dreams ; to each man according to his dream he did interpret. 
 And it came to pass, as he interpreted to us, so it was ; me 
 he restored unto mine office, and him he hanged. 
 
 Then Pharaoh sent and called Joseph, and they brought 
 him hastily out of the dungeon : and he shaved himself, and 
 changed his raiment, and came in unto Pharaoh. And 
 Pharaoh said unto Joseph, I have dreamed a dream, and 
 there is none that can interpret it : and I have heard say of 
 thee, that thou canst understand a dream to interpret it. 
 And Joseph answered Pharaoh, saying. It is not in me : God 
 shall give Pharaoh an answer of peace. And Pharaoh said 
 unto Joseph, In my dream, behold, I stood upon the bank of 
 the river: .and, behold, there came up out of the river seven 
 kine, fat-fleshed and well-favored; and they fed in a 
 meadow ; and, behold, seven other kine came up after them, 
 poor and very ill-favored and lean-fleshed, such as I never 
 saw in all the land of Egypt for badness ; and the lean and 
 the ill-favored kine did eat up the first seven fat kine ; and 
 when they had eaten them up, it could not be known that 
 they had eaten them ; but they were still ill-favored, as at 
 the beginning. So I awoke. And I saw in my dream, and, 
 behold, seven ears came up in one stalk, full and good : and, 
 behold, seven ears, withered, thin and blasted with the east 
 wind, sprung up after them : and the thin ears devoured the 
 
THE STORY OF JOSEPH. 
 
 289 
 
 seven good ears : and I told this unto the magicians ; but 
 there was none that could declare it to me. ' 
 
 And Joseph said unto Pharaoh, The dream of Pharaoh is 
 one : God hath shewed Pharaoh what he (is about to do. 
 The seven good kine are seven years ; and the seven good 
 ears are seven years : the di'eam is one, and the seven thin 
 
 Kapha tL. 
 
 JOSEPH INTERPRETING PHARAOH S DREAM. 
 
 and ill-favored kine that came up after them are seven 
 years; and the seven empty ears blasted with the east wind 
 shall be seven years of famine. This is the thing which I 
 have spoken unto Pharaoh: What God is about to do he 
 sheweth unto Pharaoh. Behold, there come seven years of 
 great plenty throughout all the land of Egypt : and there 
 
 20— 5 k 
 
290 ' A FIFTH READER. 
 
 shall arise after them seven years of famine; and all the 
 plenty shall be forgotten in the land of Egypt; and the 
 famine shall consume the land ; and the plenty shall not be 
 known in the land by reason of that famine following ; for 
 it shall be very grievous. And for that the dre^-m was 
 doubled unto Pharaoh twice; it is because the thing is 
 established by God, and God will shortly bring it to pass. 
 Now therefore let Pharaoh look out a man discreet and wise, 
 and set him over the land of Egypt. Let Pharaoh do this, 
 and let him appoint officers over the land and tak^ up the 
 fifth part of the land of Egypt in the seven plenteous years. 
 And let them gather all the food of those good years that 
 come, and lay up corn under the hand of Pharaoh, and let 
 them keep food in the cities. And that food shall be for 
 store to the land against the seven years of famine, which 
 shall be in the land of Egypt; that the land perish not 
 through famine. 
 
 And the thing was good in the eyes of Pharaoh, and in the 
 eyes of all his servants. And Pharaoh said unto his ser- 
 vants. Can we find such a one as this is, a man in whom the 
 spirit of God is ? And Pharaoh said unto Joseph, Forasmuch 
 as God hath shewed thee all this, there is none so discreet 
 and wise as thou art: Thou shalt be over my house, and 
 according unto thy word shall all my people be ruled : only 
 in the throne will I be greater than thou. And Pharaoh 
 said unto Joseph, See, I have set thee over all the land of 
 Egypt. And Pharaoh took off his ring from his hand, and 
 put it upon Joseph's hand^ and arrayed him in vestures of 
 fine linen, and put a gold chain about his neck ; and he 
 made him to ride in the second chariot which he had, and 
 they cried before him, Bow the knee : and he made him 
 ruler over all the land of Egypt. And Pharaoh said unto 
 
THE STORY OF JOSEPH. 291 
 
 Joseph, I am Pharaoh, and without thee shall no man lift up 
 his hand or foot in all the land of Egypt. And Pharaoh 
 called Joseph's name Zaphnath-paaneah ; and he gave him to 
 wife Asenath the daughter of Poti-pherah priest of On. 
 
 And Joseph was thirty years old when he stood before 
 Pharaoh king of Egypt. And Joseph went out from the 
 presence of Pharaoh, and went throughout all the land of 
 Egypt. And in the seven plenteous years the earth brought 
 forth by handfuls. And he gathered up all the food of the 
 seven years, which were in the land of Egypt, and laid up 
 the food in the cities : the food of the field, which was 
 round about every city, laid he up in the same. And 
 Joseph gathered corn as the sand of the sea, very much, 
 until he left numbering ; for it was without number. And 
 unto Joseph were born two sons, before the years of famine 
 came. And Joseph called the name of the firstborn 
 Manasseh : For God, said he, hath made me forget all my 
 toil, and all my father's house. And the name of the second 
 called he Ephraim : For God hath caused me to be fruitful 
 in the land of my affliction. 
 
 And the seven years of plenteousness that was in the land 
 of Egypt were ended. And the seven years of dearth began 
 to come, according as Joseph had said : and the dearth was 
 in all lands ; but in all the land of Egypt there was bread. 
 And when all the land of Egypt was famished, the people 
 cried to Pharaoh for bread : and Pharaoh said unto all the 
 Egyptians, Go imto Joseph; what he saith to you, do. 
 And the famine was over all the face of the earth: and 
 Joseph opened all the storehouses, and sold unto the Egyp- 
 tians; and the famine waxed sore in the land of Egypt. 
 And all countries came into Egypt to Joseph for to buy 
 corn ; because that the famine was so sore in all lands. 
 
292 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 Mow when Jacob saw that there was corn in Egypt, Jacob 
 said unto his sons, Why do ye look one upon another? And 
 he said, Behold I have heard that there is corn in Egypt; 
 get you down thither, and buy for us froin thence ; that we 
 may live, and not die. 
 
 And Joseph's ten brethren went down to buy corn in 
 Egypt. But Benjamin, Joseph's, brother, Jacob sent not 
 with his brethren; for he said. Lest peradventure mischief 
 befall him. And the sons of Israel came to buy corn among 
 those that came : for the famine was in the land of Canaan. 
 And Joseph was the governor over the land, and he it was 
 that sold to all the people of the land : and Joseph's brethren 
 came, and bowed down themselves before him with their 
 faces to the earth. And Joseph saw his brethren, and he 
 knew them, but made himself strange unto them, and spake 
 roughly unto them ; and he said unto them, Whence come 
 ye ? And they said, From the land of Canaan to buy food. 
 And Joseph knew his brethren, but they knew not him. 
 And Joseph remembered the dreams which he dreamed of 
 them, and said unto them. Ye are spies ; to see the naked- 
 ness of the land ye are come. . And they said unto him, 
 Nay, my lord, but to buy food are thy servants come. 
 We are twelve brethren, the sons of one man in the 
 land of Canaan; and behold, the youngest is this day with 
 our father, and one is not. And Joseph said unto them. 
 That is it that I spake unto .you saying. Ye are spies: 
 Hereby ye shall be proved : By the life of Pharaoh ye shall 
 not go forth hence, except your youngest brother come 
 hither. Send one of you, and let him fetch your brother, 
 and ye shall be kept in prison, that your words may be 
 proved, whether there be any truth in you ; or elso by tlie 
 life of Pharaoh surely ye are spies. And he put them 
 
THE STORY OF JOSEPH. 293 
 
 all together into ward three days. And Joseph said unto 
 them the third day, This do, and live, for I fear God: If 
 ve be true men, let one of your brethren be bound in the 
 house of your prison : go ye, carry ccvn for the famine of 
 your houses, but bring yyour youngest brother unto me; so 
 shall your words be verified, and ye shall not die. And they ^ 
 did so. 
 
 And they said one to another, We are verily guilty con- 
 cerning our brother, in that we saw the anguish of his soul 
 when he besought us, and we would not hear ; therefore is 
 this distress come upon us. And Reuben answered them, 
 saying. Spake I not unto you, saying. Do not sin against 
 the child ; and ye would not hear ? therefore, behold, also 
 his blood is required. And they knew not that Joseph 
 understood them; for he spake unto them by an interpreter. 
 And he turned himself about from them, and wept; and 
 returned to them again, and commuued with them, and took 
 from them Simeon, and bound him before their eyes. 
 
 Then Joseph commanded to fill their sacks with corn, and 
 to restore every man's money into his sack, and to give them 
 provision for the way : and thus did he unto them. And 
 they laded their asses with the corn and departed thence. 
 And as one of them opened his sack to give his ass prov- 
 ender in the inn, he espied his money ; for behold it was 
 in his sack's mouth. And he said unto his brethren, My 
 money is restored ; and, lo, it is even in my sack : and their 
 heart failed them, and they were afraid, saying one to 
 another. What is this that God hath done unto us ? 
 
 And they came unto Jacob their father unto the land 
 of Canaan, and told him all that befell unto them. And 
 it came to pass as they emptied their sacks that, behold, 
 every man's bundle of money was in his sack : and when 
 
294 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 both they and their father saw the bundles of money, 
 they were afraid. And Jacob their father said unto them, 
 Me have ye bereaved of my children : Joseph is not, and 
 Simeon is not, and ye will take Benjamin away : all these 
 things are against me. And Reuben spake unto his father, 
 saying. Slay my two sons, if I bring him not to thee : deliver 
 him into my hand, and I will bring him to thee again. And 
 he said. My son shall not go down with you ; for his brother 
 is dead, and he is left alone : if mischief befall him by the 
 way in the which ye go, then shall ye bring down my gray 
 hairs with sorrow to the grave. 
 
 And the famine was sore in the land. And it came to 
 pass, when they had eaten up the corn which they had 
 brought out of Egypt, their father said unto them, Go again, 
 buy us a little food. And Judah spake unto him, saying. 
 The man did solemnly protest unto us, saying, Ye shall not 
 -see my face, except your brother be with you. If thou wilt 
 send our brother with us, we will go down and buy thee 
 food : but if thou wilt not send him, we will not go down : 
 for the man said unto us. Ye shall not see my face, except 
 your brother be with you. And Israel said, Wherefore dealt 
 ye so ill with me, as to tell the man whether ye had yet a 
 brother ? And they said. The man asked us straitly of our 
 state, and of our kindred, saying, Is your father yet alive ? 
 have ye another brother ? and we told him according to the 
 tenor of these words : Could we certainly know that he 
 would say, Bring your brother down? And Judah said unto 
 Israel his father. Send the lad with me, and we will arise 
 and go ; that we may live, and not die, both we, and thou, 
 and also our little ones. I will be surety for him ; of my 
 hand shalt thou require him : if I bring him not unto thee, 
 and set him before thee, then let me bear the blame for ever : 
 
THE STORY OF JOSEPH. 295 
 
 for except we had lingered, surely now we had returned this 
 second time. And their father Israel said unto them, If it 
 must be so now, do this ; take of the best fruits in the land 
 in your vessels, and carry down the man a present, a little 
 balm, and 9, little honey, spices and myrrh, nuts and almonds : 
 ^and take double money in your hand ; and the money that 
 was brought again in the mouth of your sacks, carry it again 
 in your hand ; peradventure it was an oversight. Take also 
 your brother, and arise, go again unto the man : and God 
 Almighty give you mercy before the man, that he may send 
 away your other brother and Benjamin. If I be bereaved 
 of my children, I am bereaved. 
 
 And the men took that present, and they took double 
 money in their hand, and Benjamin ; and rose up, and went 
 down to Egypt, and stood before Joseph. And when Joseph 
 saw Benjamin with them, he said to the ruler of his house. 
 Bring these men home, and slay, and make ready ; for these 
 men shall dine with me at noon. And the man did as 
 Joseph bade ; and the man brought the men into Joseph's 
 house. And the men were afraid, because they were brought 
 into Joseph's house ; and they said. Because of the money 
 that was returned in our sacks at the first time are we 
 brought in ; that he may seek occasion against us, and fall 
 upon us, and take us for bondmen, and our asses. And they 
 came near to the ste\<^ard af Joseph's house, and they com- 
 muned with him at the door of the house, and said, O sir, 
 we came indeed down at the first time to buy food: and it 
 came to pass, Avhen we came to the inn, that we opened our 
 sacks, and, behold, every man's money was in the mouth of 
 his sack, our money in full weight ; and we have brought it 
 again in our hand. And other money have w^e brought down 
 in our hands to buy food : we cannot tell who put our money 
 
296 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 in our sacks. And he said, Peace be to you, fear not : your 
 God, and the God of your fatlier, hath given you treasure in 
 your sacks ; I had your money. And he brought Simeon 
 out unto them. And the man brought the men into Joseph's 
 house, and gave them water, and they washed their feet ; and 
 he gave their asses provender. And they made ready the 
 present against Joseph came at noon : for they heard that 
 they should eat bread there. 
 
 And when Joseph came home, they brought him the pres- 
 ent which was in their hand into the house, and bowed 
 themselves to him to the earth. And he asked them of their 
 welfare, and said, Is your father well, the old man of whom 
 ye spake ? Is he yet alive ? And they answered. Thy servant 
 our father is in good health, he is yet alive. And they 
 bowed down their heads, and made obeisance. And he 
 lifted up his eyes, and saw his brother Benjamin, his mother's 
 son, and said. Is this your younger brother, of whom ye 
 spake unto me ? And he said, God be gracious imto thee, 
 my son. And Joseph made haste ; for liis bowels did yearn 
 upon his brother, and he sought where to weep ; and he 
 entered into his chamber, and wept there. And he washed 
 his face, and went out, and refrained himself, and said. Set 
 on bread. And they set on for him by himself, and for 
 them by themselves, and for the Egyptians, which did eat 
 with him, by themselves : because the Egyptians might not 
 eat bread with the Hebrews ; for that is an abomination 
 unt© the Egyptians. And they sat before him, the firstborn 
 according to his birthright, and the youngest according to 
 his youth : and the men marveled one at another. And he 
 took and sent messes unto them from before him: but 
 Benjamin's mess was five times so much as any of theirs. 
 And they drank, and were merry with hiuL 
 
THE STORY OP JOSEPH. 297 
 
 And he commanded the steward of his house, saying, 
 Fill the men's sacks with food, as much as they can carry, 
 and put every man's money in his sack's mouth. And put 
 my cup, the silver cup, in the sack's mouth of the youngest, 
 and his corn money. And he did according to the word 
 that Joseph had spoken. As soon as the morning was 
 light, the men were sent away, they and their asses. And 
 when they were gone out of 'the city, and not yet far off, 
 Joseph said unto his steward, Up, follow after the men; 
 and when thou dost overtake them, say unto them. Where- 
 fore have ye rewarded evil for good? Is not this it in 
 which my lord drinketh, and whereby indeed he divineth ? 
 ye have done evil in so doing. 
 
 And he overtook them, and he spake unto them these 
 same words. And they said unto him, Wherefore saith my 
 lord these words? God forbid that thy servants should 
 do according to this thing: behold, the money, which was 
 found in our sacks' mouths, we brought again unto thee 
 out of the land of Canaan : how then should we steal out 
 of thy lord's house silver or gold? With whomsoever of 
 thy servants it be found, both let him die, and we also will 
 be my lord's bondmen. And he said. Now also let it be 
 according unto your words : he with whom it is found shall 
 be my servant; and ye shall be blameless. Then they 
 speedily took down every man his sack to the ground, and 
 opened every man his sack. And he searched, and began 
 at the eldest and left at the youngest: and the cup was 
 found in Benjamin's sack. Then they rent their clothes, 
 and laded every man his ass, and returned to the city. 
 
 And Judah and his brethren came to Joseph's house, for 
 he was yet there; and they fell before him on the ground. 
 And Joseph said unto them, What deed is this that ye 
 
298 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 have done ? wot ye not that such a man as I can certainly 
 divinfi.? And Judah said, What shall we say unto my 
 lord? what shall we speak? or how shall we clear our- 
 selves ? God hath found out the in^ig^iity of thy servants : 
 behold, we are my lord's servants, both we and he also 
 with whom the cup is found. And ho said, God forbid 
 that I should do so : but the man in whose hand the cup is 
 found, he shall be my servant*; and as for you, get you up 
 in peace unto your father. X 
 
 Then Judah came near unto him, and said, O my lord ! 
 let thy servant, I pray thee, speak a word in my lord's ears, 
 and let not thine anger burn against thy servant : for thou 
 art even as Pharaoh. My lord asked his servants, saying, 
 Have ye a father, or a brother? And we said unto my 
 lord. We have a father, an old man, and a child of his old 
 age, a little one ; and his brother is dead, and he alone is 
 left of his mother, and his father loveth him. And thou 
 saidst unto thy servants, Bring him down unto me, that I 
 may set mine eyes upon him. And we said unto my lord. 
 The lad cannot leave his father : for if he should leave his 
 father, his father would die. And tjiou saidst unto thy 
 servants. Except your youngest brother come down with 
 you, ye shall see my face no more. And it came to pass 
 when we came up unto thy servant my father, we told him 
 the words of my lord. And our father said. Go again, and 
 buy us a little food. And we said, We cannot go down : if 
 our youngest brother be with us, then will we go down: 
 for we may not see the man's face, except our youngest 
 brother be with us. And thy servant my father said unto 
 us, Ye know that my wife bare me two sons ; and the one 
 went out from me, and I said, Surely he is torn in pieces ; 
 and I saw him not since ; and if ye take this also from me, 
 
THE STORY OF JOSEPH. 299 
 
 and mischief befall him, ye shall bring down my gray hairs 
 with sorrow to the grave. Now therefore when I come to 
 thy servant my father, and the lad be not with us, seeing 
 that his life is bound up in the lad's life, it shall come to 
 pass, when he seeth that the lad is not with us, that he will 
 die: and thy servants bring down the gray hairs of thy 
 servant our father with sorrow to the grave. For thy ser- 
 vant became surety for the lad unto my father, saying. If 
 I bring him not unto thee, then I shall bear the blame to 
 my father for ever. Now therefore, I pray thee, let thy 
 servant abide instead of the lad a bondman to my lord; 
 and let the lad go up with his brethren. For how shall I 
 go up to my father, and the lad be not with me ? lest per- 
 adyenture I see the evil that shall come on my father. 
 
 Then Joseph could not rolrain himself before all them 
 that stood by him ; and he cried. Cause every man to go 
 out from me. And there stood no man with him, while 
 Joseph made himself known unto his brethren. And he 
 wept aloud : and the Egyptians and the house of Pharaoh 
 heard. And Joseph said unto his brethren, I am Joseph ; 
 doth my father yet live ? And his brethren could not 
 answer him ; for they were troubled at his presence. And 
 Joseph said unto his brethren, Come near to me, I pray you. 
 And they came near. And he said, I am Joseph your 
 brother, whom ye sold into Egypt. Now therefore be not 
 grieved, nor angry with yourselves, that ye sold me hither : 
 for God did send me before you to preserve life. For these 
 two years hath the famine been in the land : and yet there 
 are five years, in the which there shall neither be earing nor 
 harvest. And God sent me before you to preserve you a 
 posterity in the earth, and to save your lives by a great 
 deliverance. So now it was not you that sent me hither, 
 
300 A FIFTH READER. 
 
 but God : and he hath made me a father to Pharaoh, and 
 lord of all his house, and a ruler throughout all the land of 
 Egypt. Haste ye, and go up to my father, and say unto 
 him. Thus saith thy son Joseph, God hath made me lord of 
 all Egypt : come down unto me, tarry not : and thou shalt 
 dwell in the land of Goshen, and thou shalt be near unto 
 me, thou, and thy children, and thy children's children, and 
 thy flocks, and thy herds, and all that thou hast ; and there 
 will I nourish thee, for yet there are five years of famine ; 
 lest thou, and thy household, and all that thou hast, come 
 to poYerty. And, behold, your eyes see, and the eyes of my 
 brother Benjamin, that it is my mouth that speaketh unto 
 you. And ye shall tell my father of all my glory in Egypt, 
 and of all that ye have seen ; and ye shall haste and bring 
 down my father hither. And he fell upon Benjamin's neck, 
 and wept; and Benjamin wept upon his neck. Moreover 
 he kissed all his brethren, and wept upon them. 
 
 And they went up out of Egypt, and came into the land 
 of Canaan unto Jacob their father, and told him, saying, 
 Joseph is yet alive, and he is governor over all the land of 
 Egypt. And Jacob's heart fainted, for he believed them 
 not. And they told him all the words of Joseph, which he 
 had said unto them : and when he saw the wagons which 
 Joseph had sent to carry him, the spirit of Jacob their 
 father revived. And Israel said, It is enough ; Joseph my 
 son is yet alive : I will go and see him before I die. And 
 Joseph placed his father and his brethren, and gave them 
 a possession in the land of Egypt, in the best of the 
 land, in the land of Rameses, as Pharaoh had commanded. 
 And Joseph nourished his father, and his brethren, and 
 all his father's household, with bread, according to their 
 families. 
 
LEXICON. 
 
 Ab-bre'vi-a-ted, shortened ; reduced in 
 
 size. 
 Ac-cu'mu-la-ted, piled up. 
 Ad-hered', stuck to. 
 Ad-mo-ni'tion, advice. 
 Ad-verse', hostile ; opposed. 
 Al'a-bas-ter, a beautiful variety of 
 
 marble. 
 Al-ter'nate-ly, by turns. 
 A-nat'o-my, the structure of the body. 
 Ap-pre-hen'sion, fear. 
 Apse, a projection from the end of a 
 
 church. 
 Arms a-kim'bo, with hands on hips. 
 Ar-o-mat'ic, having a spicy odor. 
 As-cer-tain'ing, finding out. 
 As-sid'u-ous-ly, industriously ; without 
 
 stopping. 
 As-tound'ing, very surprising. 
 As'tro-labe, an instrument for showing 
 
 the positions of the stars. 
 At'ti-tude, position of the body. 
 A-verred', said. 
 Az'ure (azh'ur), blue. 
 
 Be-lea'guer, to besiege. 
 Bellum, Latin for war. , 
 Be-queathed', left by will. 
 Ber'serk, a half-crazed, brave warrior 
 
 among the Norsemen. 
 Butt, a large cask. 
 
 Cab-a-lis'tic, having a secret meaning. 
 Cai'tiflF, a mean, wicked person. 
 Ca'liph, ruler of the Mohammedans. 
 Car'bun-cle, a precious stone of a red 
 color- 
 
 (30 
 
 Car'nage, bloodshed. 
 
 Cas'tel-la-ted, like a castle. 
 
 Cat'a-racts, waterfalls. 
 
 Ca-tas'tro-phe, disaster. 
 
 Cav'em-ous, hollow. 
 
 Chron'i-cled, recorded. 
 
 Chrys'a-lids, the insects in cocoons. 
 
 Ci-ca'da, a locust. 
 
 Cir-cum'fer-ence, the outside ; distance 
 around. 
 
 Clove, cut in two. 
 
 Co-coon', the case in which some in- 
 sects pass the chrysalis period. 
 
 Col-lapsed', gave way utterly. 
 
 Co'ma, unconsciousness, like sleep. 
 
 Com-mu'ni-ca ting, making common ; 
 transferring to others. 
 
 Com'plai-sanee (kom'pla-zans), disposi- 
 tion to please. 
 
 Com-pli'ance, yielding. 
 
 Com-posed', quieted. 
 
 Con-cer'to, a kind of musical compo- 
 sition. 
 
 Con-clu'sisre-ly, as if it ended the 
 matter. 
 
 Con-cus'slon, blow. 
 
 Con-fla-gra'tion, great fire. 
 
 Con-gealed', froze or frozen. 
 
 Con'jur-ing, using magic. 
 
 Con-sid-er-a'tion, thought ; reason. 
 
 Con-ster-na'tion, great alarm. 
 
 Con'tem-pla-ting, considering ; look- 
 ing at. 
 
 Con'tu-me-ly, insult. 
 
 Con-vulsed', disturbed ; unsteady. 
 
 Con-vul'slon, spasm. 
 
 Con-vul'sive, like a spasm. 
 
 1) 
 
302 
 
 LEXICON. 
 
 Copse, a wood. 
 
 Cor'al-line (kOr'al-lIn), a small coral- 
 like animal. 
 Cor'mo-rant, a greedy sea bird. 
 Corselet, armor for the body. 
 Cre'dence, belief. 
 Cru'ci-ble, a melting-pot. 
 Crys'tal-liz-ing, forming crystals. 
 Cul-dee', ancient priest in Scotland. 
 
 De-crep'it, feeble from age. 
 De-flec'tions, changes ; turnings. 
 De-lib'er-ate-ly, thoughtfully. 
 Dep-re-ca'ting-ly, in a pleading manner. 
 De-rived% drawn from ; got out of. 
 Des'ti-nies, fates. 
 De-vised', worked out. 
 Dic'tum, word. 
 Di-lem'ma, difficulty; choice between 
 
 two. 
 Dim-i-nu'tion, growing less. 
 Di-min'u-tive, very small. 
 Dis-com'fort-ed, distressed. 
 Dis-sem'ble, to deceive. 
 Dis-tend'ed, wide apart. 
 Dis-tort'ed, twisted ; unjust. 
 Di-vest'ed, rid ; took off. 
 Di-vi'neth, f oretelleth ; prophesies. 
 Don, to put on. 
 Doublet, (dablet), coat. 
 Druid, priest of ancient Britain. 
 Du-ellum, duel ; a battle between two. 
 
 E-con o-mi-zes, saves. 
 
 Ec'sta-sy, intense feeling, usually 
 
 joyous. 
 Ef-fect'u-al-ly, with effect; well. 
 Ef-fer-ves'cent, bubbling. 
 E-jac'u-la-ted, cried out. 
 Ere-ments, the simple, essential parts. 
 Eml-nence, height. 
 Eml-nent, high. 
 E-mit'ting, sending out. 
 Erst, formerly. 
 
 E-vap'o-rate, to disappear in vapor. 
 E-ven'tu-al-ly, finally ; in the end. 
 Ex-actl-tude, exactness ; correctness. 
 
 Ex-ag-ger-a'tion (6gz-aj-jer-a'shun), en- 
 largement ; over-stating. 
 Ex-ceed'ing-ly, very. 
 Ex-cesslve-ly, very; overmuch. 
 Exit, going out. 
 Ex-pi-ra'tion, end. 
 Ex-tin'guished, put out. 
 Ex-traor'di-na-ry, unusual ; strange. 
 Ex-treml-ty, extreme peril. 
 Exlri-cate, to free. 
 
 Per'tile, rich ; productive. 
 Firth, an arm of the sea. 
 Fore-bode', to predict ; to threaten. 
 Fren'zy, madness. 
 Fronlier, border. 
 
 Gael (gale), one of the early inhabitants 
 of the Scottish Highlands. 
 
 Gen-er-alion, the average lifetime of 
 man. 
 
 Gerlal-con (jer'faw-k'n), a bird trained 
 to hunt other birds. 
 
 Gla'cier (gla'slier), a river of ice. 
 
 Gra-da'tion, steps. 
 
 Gravl-ty, soberness ; seriousness. 
 
 Grif'fln, a fabled monster, lialf lion, 
 half eagle. 
 
 Guer'don (gur'dun), reward; recom- 
 pense. 
 
 Guile (glle), deceit. 
 
 Hab-i-ta'tion, dwelling. 
 Ha-rangue', noisy speech. 
 Har'row-ing, distressing. 
 Haugh'ty, proud. 
 
 Helm, helmet ; armor for the head. 
 Hob, a slielf in a fireplace. 
 Hor'o-loge, a timepiece. 
 
 D-lu-mi-na'tion, lighting up for cele- 
 bration. 
 
 Im-meas'ur-a-ble, too large to be 
 measured. 
 
 Im-me'di-ate, at once; near. 
 
 Im-pen'e-tra-ble, that cannot be 
 pierced. 
 
LEXICON. 
 
 303 
 
 Im-prac'ti-ca-ble, that cannot be done ; 
 impossible. 
 
 Im-pru'dent, foolish; venturesome. 
 
 In-an'i-mate, lifeless ; still. 
 
 In-au'di-ble, that cannot be heard. 
 
 In-can-ta'tions, formulas of words for 
 producing enchantments. 
 
 In-ces'sant-ly, without ceasing. 
 
 In-com-mode', to put out ; to get in 
 the way. 
 
 In-cum'branee, hindrance. 
 
 In-dom'i-ta-ble, unconquerable. 
 
 In-ev'i-ta^bly, surely. 
 
 In-iq'ui-ty, wickedness. 
 
 In-scribed', written on, or in. 
 
 In-stinc'tive, natural. 
 
 In-ter-ne'cine, between related tribes 
 or people. 
 
 In-ter-posed', put between. 
 
 In-ter-pre-ta'tion, making plain. 
 
 In-torer-a-ble, more than can be en- 
 dured. 
 
 In-tract'a-ble, hard to manage. 
 
 In-un-da'tion, flood. 
 
 In-vig'or-a-ting, strengthening. 
 
 In-vol'un-ta-ry, not intentional. 
 
 I-ron'ic-al-ly, ridiculing by saying one 
 thing and meaning another. 
 
 Ir-re-press'i-ble, that cannot be con- 
 trolled. 
 
 Jen'net, a small kind of horse. 
 
 Kine, cattle. 
 
 Xx}ath, unwilling. 
 
 Ijoathe, to despise ; to view with dis- 
 gust. 
 Iju'rid, ghastly pale, 
 liux-u'ri-ant, abundant. 
 
 Mag-a-zine', a storehouse. 
 
 Mag'ni-tude, size. 
 
 Ma-li'cious (ma-lish'us), wicked ; tak- 
 ing pleasure in injuring others. 
 
 Ma-lig'ni-ty, hatefulness ; desire to in- 
 jure others. 
 
 Man'i-fest, plain ; self-evident. 
 
 Man'i-fest-ed, showed. 
 
 Ma-raud'ers, robbers. 
 
 Mat'ins, morning prayers. 
 
 Med'i-ta-tive-ly, thoughtfully. 
 
 Meran-chol-y, sad. 
 
 Mis'ere-ant, a wrong doer. 
 
 Mo-men'tous, very important. 
 
 Mo-not'o-nous, on the same note ; 
 tedious. 
 
 Mu'ti-nous, rebellious. 
 
 Myr'i-ads, many thousands. 
 
 Myr'mi-don§, fierce warriors. 
 
 Myrrh (mur), a fragrant, bitter gum. 
 
 '• ■ 
 
 Nath'less, nevertheless. 
 
 Nave, the main body of a church. 
 
 Nec'ro-man-cer, a magician. 
 
 Ni-zam' (ne zahm'), a chief ruler of 
 one of the provinces of India. 
 
 Nox'ious (nok'shus), harmful ; poison- 
 ous. 
 
 Nun'cheon, a noon lunch. 
 
 O-bei'sance (o-be'sans), a low bow. 
 Ob'e-lisk, a tapering monument. 
 Ob-strep'er-ous, troublesome; willful. 
 Orbs, spheres. 
 O'ri-ent, oriental ; eastern. 
 Or-ni-thoro-gy, the study of birds. 
 O'sier (o'zhur), a kind of willow. 
 
 Pacl-fy (pas'i-fi), to make peace be- 
 tween. 
 
 Pam'pered, over-fed ; treated to luxury. 
 
 Pan'o-ply, armor. 
 
 Par'a-lyzed, made weak and helpless. 
 
 Pat'ri-mo-ny, an inherited estate. 
 
 Pat'ron-i-zing, in the manner of a 
 superior. 
 
 Paunch, stomach ; belly. 
 
 Per-ad-ven'ture, perhaps ; perchance. 
 
 Per-pet'u-al, never ending. 
 
 Per-spec'tive-glass, spyglass ; telescope. 
 
 Per-ti-na'cious, persistent ; " sticking 
 to " an undertaking ; obstinate. 
 
 Per-ti-nac'i-ty, persistency; obstinacy. 
 
 Pes'ti-lent, evil ; liarmful. 
 
 Pet'u-lant-ly, crossly. 
 
304 
 
 LEXICON. 
 
 Pin'na-cles, high points or peaks. 
 
 Pin 'net, a pinnacle. 
 
 Plac'id (plas'id), quiet. 
 
 Por'tents, ominous signs. 
 
 Pos'ture, position ; attitude. 
 
 Pre-pos'ter-ous, absurd. 
 
 Pris-mat'ic, made by light passing 
 through a prism ; like a rainbow. 
 
 Pro-bos'cis, snout. 
 
 Pro-gen'i-tors, forefathers. - 
 
 Pro-ject'ing, sticking out, or over. 
 
 Pro-nun'ci-a-tive, distinct. 
 
 Pros'trate, lying flat. 
 
 Prov'en-der, dry food for animals. 
 
 Punc-tirios(-y6z), petty rules of con- 
 duct. 
 
 Pyre, a pile on which bodies of the dead 
 are burned. 
 
 Back, an alcoholic liquor. 
 Be-cruit'ed, refreshed ; strengthened, 
 Ke-doubt'a-ble, valiant ; terrible. 
 Re-frac'to-ry, hard to manage. 
 Re-mote', far away. 
 Re-spect'ive, own. 
 Res-pi-ra'tion, breathing. 
 Re-ten'tion, keeping. 
 Rhen'ish, of the Rhine ; a kind of wine. 
 Runes, the characters in which the 
 
 Norse wrote their poems. 
 Ru'nic, of runes. 
 
 Sa'ble-stoled, black-robed. 
 
 Sa'ga, a Norse tale or poem. 
 
 Sa-ga'cious, wise ; shrewd. 
 
 Sa'mite (sa'mit), a beautiful variety of 
 
 silk cloth. 
 Sconce, head. 
 
 Se-clu'ded, separated ; shut out. 
 Sen'si-bly, evidently, 
 Se'ries, row ; succession. 
 Sex'tant, an instrument for measuring 
 
 angular distances, 
 Sig-nif i-cant, having a meaning. 
 Skald, a bard of the ancient Norsemen, 
 Skaw, a promontory. 
 Skip'per, a sea captaiu. 
 Skoal, iiail ! 
 
 Spurned, pushed aside ; treated with 
 
 scorn. 
 Stan'chion, an upright support. 
 Stu-pen'dous, very great. 
 Sub-si'ded, grew quiet. 
 Suc-cess'ive, repeated. 
 Sup-po-si'tion, guess. 
 Swathed, wound around. 
 Sway'ing, guiding, controlling. 
 
 Tael (tale), a Chinese measure of 
 
 weight, being about one and one 
 
 third ounces. 
 Taris-man, a charm, 
 Tax'i-der-mists, those who stuff and 
 
 mount 2he skins of animals. 
 Trans-mit', send ; hand down. 
 Trans'ports, intense feelings of 
 
 pleasure. 
 Trav'erse, to pass through. 
 Tre-men'dous, very big; 3nough to 
 
 frigliten, 
 Tr6th, a pledge. 
 
 Un-daunt'ed, not frightened. 
 Un'du-la-ting, waving. 
 Un-ob-struct'ed-ly, without hindrance. 
 Un-wit'ting, unthinking ; uot knowing, 
 
 Val-halla, according to Norse mythol- 
 ogy, the place where good warriors 
 were supposed to go after death, 
 
 Vam'pire-bat, a blood-sucking bat of 
 Asia. 
 
 Vault, a hollow place ; a tomb. 
 
 Ve-loc'i-ty, swiftness. 
 
 Ven'er-a-ble, worthy of respect because 
 of age. 
 
 Ver'dict, decision. 
 
 Vi-bra'tion, shaking. 
 
 Vi'cious (vish'-us), ugly. 
 
 Vi-gnette'(vin-yet'), a decorative design. 
 
 Vi'king, a Norse sea-rover or pirate. 
 
 Vis'age, countenance ; looks. 
 
 Vi-va'cious, lively. 
 
 Was'sail-bout, a drinking carousal. 
 Were'wolf , a person transformed into 
 a wolf. 
 
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