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FIFTY FAMOUS STORIES
RETOLD
BY
JAMES BALDWIN
AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY
NEW YORK CINCINNATI CHICAGO
COPYRIGHT, 1896, BY
AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY.
CONTENTS.
King Alfred and the Cakes
King Alfred and the Beggar
King Canute on the Seashore
The Sons of William the Conqueror
The White Ship
King John and the Abbot
A Story of Robin Hood
Bruce and the Spider
The Black Douglas
Three Men of Gotham
Other Wise Men of Gotham
The Miller of the Dee
Sir Philip Sidney
The Ungrateful Soldier
Sir Humphrey Gilbert
Sir Walter Raleigh
Pocahontas
George Washington and his Hatchet
Grace Darling
The Story of William Tell
Arnold Winkelried
The Bell of Atri
How Napoleon crossed the Alps
The Story of Cincinnatus
The Story of Regulus
Cornelia's Jewels
Androclus and the Lion
Horatius at the Bridge
Julius Cæsar
The Sword of Damocles
Damon and Pythias
A Laconic Answer
The Ungrateful Guest
Alexander and Bucephalus
Diogenes the Wise Man
The Brave Three Hundred
Socrates and his House
The King and his Hawk
Doctor Goldsmith
The Kingdoms
The Barmecide Feast
The Endless Tale
The Blind Men and the Elephant
Maximilian and the Goose Boy
The Inchcape Rock
Whittington and his Cat
Casabianca
Antonio Canova
Picciola
Mignon
CONCERNING THESE STORIES.
There are numerous time-honored stories which have become so
incorporated into the literature and thought of our race that a
knowledge of them is an indispensable part of one's education. These
stories are of several different classes. To one class belong the
popular fairy tales which have delighted untold generations of
children, and will continue to delight them to the end of time. To
another class belong the limited number of fables that have come down
to us through many channels from hoar antiquity. To a third belong the
charming stories of olden times that are derived from the literatures
of ancient peoples, such as the Greeks and the Hebrews. A fourth class
includes the half-legendary tales of a distinctly later origin, which
have for their subjects certain romantic episodes in the lives of
well-known heroes and famous men, or in the history of a people.
It is to this last class that most of the fifty stories contained in
the present volume belong. As a matter of course, some of these
stories are better known, and therefore more _famous_, than others.
Some have a slight historical value; some are useful as giving point
to certain great moral truths; others are products solely of the
fancy, and are intended only to amuse. Some are derived from very
ancient sources, and are current in the literature of many lands; some
have come to us through the ballads and folk tales of the English
people; a few are of quite recent origin; nearly all are the subjects
of frequent allusions in poetry and prose and in the conversation of
educated people. Care has been taken to exclude everything that is not
strictly within the limits of probability; hence there is here no
trespassing upon the domain of the fairy tale, the fable, or the myth.
That children naturally take a deep interest in such stories, no
person can deny; that the reading of them will not only give pleasure,
but will help to lay the foundation for broader literary studies, can
scarcely be doubted. It is believed, therefore, that the present
collection will be found to possess an educative value which will
commend it as a supplementary reader in the middle primary grades at
school. It is also hoped that the book will prove so attractive that
it will be in demand out of school as well as in.
Acknowledgments are due to Mrs. Charles A. Lane, by whom eight or ten
of the stories were suggested.
FIFTY FAMOUS STORIES RETOLD.
KING ALFRED AND THE CAKES.
[Illustration:]
Many years ago there lived in Eng-land a wise and good king whose name
was Al-fred. No other man ever did so much for his country as he; and
people now, all over the world, speak of him as Alfred the Great.
In those days a king did not have a very easy life. There was war
almost all the time, and no one else could lead his army into battle
so well as he. And so, between ruling and fighting, he had a busy time
of it indeed.
A fierce, rude people, called the Danes, had come from over the sea,
and were fighting the Eng-lish. There were so many of them, and they
were so bold and strong, that for a long time they gained every
battle. If they kept on, they would soon be the masters of the whole
country.
At last, after a great battle, the English army was broken up and
scat-tered. Every man had to save himself in the best way he could.
King Alfred fled alone, in great haste, through the woods and swamps.
Late in the day the king came to the hut of a wood-cut-ter. He was
very tired and hungry, and he begged the wood-cut-ter's wife to give
him something to eat and a place to sleep in her hut.
The wom-an was baking some cakes upon the hearth, and she looked with
pity upon the poor, ragged fellow who seemed so hungry. She had no
thought that he was the king.
"Yes," she said, "I will give you some supper if you will watch these
cakes. I want to go out and milk the cow; and you must see that they
do not burn while I am gone."
King Alfred was very willing to watch the cakes, but he had far
greater things to think about. How was he going to get his army
to-geth-er again? And how was he going to drive the fierce Danes out
of the land? He forgot his hunger; he forgot the cakes; he forgot that
he was in the woodcutter's hut. His mind was busy making plans for
to-mor-row.
In a little while the wom-an came back. The cakes were smoking on the
hearth. They were burned to a crisp. Ah, how angry she was!
"You lazy fellow!" she cried. "See what you have done! You want
some-thing to eat, but you do not want to work!"
I have been told that she even struck the king with a stick; but I can
hardly be-lieve that she was so ill-na-tured.
The king must have laughed to himself at the thought of being scolded
in this way; and he was so hungry that he did not mind the woman's
angry words half so much as the loss of the cakes.
I do not know whether he had any-thing to eat that night, or whether
he had to go to bed without his supper. But it was not many days
until he had gath-ered his men to-geth-er again, and had beaten the
Danes in a great battle.
KING ALFRED AND THE BEGGAR.
At one time the Danes drove King Alfred from his kingdom, and he had
to lie hidden for a long time on a little is-land in a river.
One day, all who were on the is-land, except the king and queen and
one servant, went out to fish. It was a very lonely place, and no one
could get to it except by a boat. About noon a ragged beggar came to
the king's door, and asked for food.
The king called the servant, and asked, "How much food have we in the
house?"
"My lord," said the servant, "we have only one loaf and a little
wine."
Then the king gave thanks to God, and said, "Give half of the loaf and
half of the wine to this poor man."
The servant did as he was bidden. The beggar thanked the king for his
kindness, and went on his way.
In the after-noon the men who had gone out to fish came back. They had
three boats full of fish, and they said, "We have caught more fish
to-day than in all the other days that we have been on this island."
The king was glad, and he and his people were more hopeful than they
had ever been before.
When night came, the king lay awake for a long time, and thought about
the things that had happened that day. At last he fancied that he saw
a great light like the sun; and in the midst of the light there stood
an old man with black hair, holding an open book in his hand.
It may all have been a dream, and yet to the king it seemed very real
indeed. He looked and wondered, but was not afraid.
"Who are you?" he asked of the old man.
"Alfred, my son, be brave," said the man; "for I am the one to whom
you gave this day the half of all the food that you had. Be strong and
joyful of heart, and listen to what I say. Rise up early in the
morning and blow your horn three times, so loudly that the Danes may
hear it. By nine o'clock, five hundred men will be around you ready to
be led into battle. Go forth bravely, and within seven days your
en-e-mies shall be beaten, and you shall go back to your kingdom to
reign in peace."
Then the light went out, and the man was seen no more.
In the morning the king arose early, and crossed over to the mainland.
Then he blew his horn three times very loudly; and when his friends
heard it they were glad, but the Danes were filled with fear.
At nine o'clock, five hundred of his bravest soldiers stood around him
ready for battle. He spoke, and told them what he had seen and heard
in his dream; and when he had fin-ished, they all cheered loudly, and
said that they would follow him and fight for him so long as they had
strength.
So they went out bravely to battle; and they beat the Danes, and drove
them back into their own place. And King Alfred ruled wisely and well
over all his people for the rest of his days.
KING CANUTE ON THE SEASHORE.
A hundred years or more after the time of Alfred the Great there was a
king of England named Ca-nuté. King Canute was a Dane; but the Danes
were not so fierce and cruel then as they had been when they were at
war with King Alfred.
The great men and of-fi-cers who were around King Canute were always
praising him.
"You are the greatest man that ever lived," one would say.
Then an-oth-er would say, "O king! there can never be an-oth-er man so
mighty as you."
And another would say, "Great Canute, there is nothing in the world
that dares to dis-o-bey you."
The king was a man of sense, and he grew very tired of hearing such
foolish speeches.
One day he was by the sea-shore, and his of-fi-cers were with him.
They were praising him, as they were in the habit of doing. He thought
that now he would teach them a lesson, and so he bade them set his
chair on the beach close by the edge of the water.
"Am I the greatest man in the world?" he asked.
"O king!" they cried, "there is no one so mighty as you."
"Do all things obey me?" he asked.
"There is nothing that dares to dis-o-bey you, O king!" they said.
"The world bows before you, and gives you honor."
"Will the sea obey me?" he asked; and he looked down at the little
waves which were lapping the sand at his feet.
The foolish officers were puzzled, but they did not dare to say "No."
"Command it, O king! and it will obey," said one.
"Sea," cried Canute, "I command you to come no farther! Waves, stop
your rolling, and do not dare to touch my feet!"
But the tide came in, just as it always did. The water rose higher and
higher. It came up around the king's chair, and wet not only his feet,
but also his robe. His officers stood about him, alarmed, and
won-der-ing whether he was not mad.
Then Canute took off his crown, and threw it down upon the sand.
"I shall never wear it again," he said. "And do you, my men, learn a
lesson from what you have seen. There is only one King who is
all-powerful; and it is he who rules the sea, and holds the ocean in
the hollow of his hand. It is he whom you ought to praise and serve
above all others."
THE SONS OF WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR.
There was once a great king of England who was called Wil-liam the
Con-quer-or, and he had three sons.
[Illustration: "Sea, I command you to come no farther!"]
One day King Wil-liam seemed to be thinking of something that made him
feel very sad; and the wise men who were about him asked him what
was the matter.
"I am thinking," he said, "of what my sons may do after I am dead.
For, unless they are wise and strong, they cannot keep the kingdom
which I have won for them. Indeed, I am at a loss to know which one of
the three ought to be the king when I am gone."
"O king!" said the wise men, "if we only knew what things your sons
admire the most, we might then be able to tell what kind of men they
will be. Perhaps, by asking each one of them a few ques-tions, we can
find out which one of them will be best fitted to rule in your place."
"The plan is well worth trying, at least," said the king. "Have the
boys come before you, and then ask them what you please."
The wise men talked with one another for a little while, and then
agreed that the young princes should be brought in, one at a time, and
that the same ques-tions should be put to each.
The first who came into the room was Robert. He was a tall, willful
lad, and was nick-named Short Stocking.
"Fair sir," said one of the men, "answer me this question: If, instead
of being a boy, it had pleased God that you should be a bird, what
kind of a bird would you rather be?"
"A hawk," answered Robert. "I would rather be a hawk, for no other
bird reminds one so much of a bold and gallant knight."
The next who came was young William, his father's name-sake and pet.
His face was jolly and round, and because he had red hair he was
nicknamed Rufus, or the Red.
"Fair sir," said the wise man, "answer me this question: If, instead
of being a boy, it had pleased God that you should be a bird, what
kind of a bird would you rather be?"
"An eagle," answered William. "I would rather be an eagle, because it
is strong and brave. It is feared by all other birds, and is
there-fore the king of them all."
Lastly came the youngest brother, Henry, with quiet steps and a sober,
thought-ful look. He had been taught to read and write, and for that
reason he was nick-named Beau-clerc, or the Hand-some Schol-ar.
"Fair sir," said the wise man, "answer me this question: If, instead
of being a boy, it had pleased God that you should be a bird, what
kind of a bird would you rather be?"
"A star-ling," said Henry. "I would rather be a star-ling, because it
is good-mannered and kind and a joy to every one who sees it, and it
never tries to rob or abuse its neigh-bor."
Then the wise men talked with one another for a little while, and when
they had agreed among themselves, they spoke to the king.
"We find," said they, "that your eldest son, Robert, will be bold and
gallant. He will do some great deeds, and make a name for himself; but
in the end he will be over-come by his foes, and will die in prison.
"The second son, William, will be as brave and strong as the eagle;
but he will be feared and hated for his cruel deeds. He will lead a
wicked life, and will die a shameful death.
"The youngest son, Henry, will be wise and prudent and peaceful. He
will go to war only when he is forced to do so by his enemies. He will
be loved at home, and re-spect-ed abroad; and he will die in peace
after having gained great pos-ses-sions."
Years passed by, and the three boys had grown up to be men. King
William lay upon his death-bed, and again he thought of what would
become of his sons when he was gone. Then he re-mem-bered what the
wise men had told him; and so he de-clared that Robert should have the
lands which he held in France, that William should be the King of
England, and that Henry should have no land at all, but only a chest
of gold.
So it hap-pened in the end very much as the wise men had fore-told.
Robert, the Short Stocking, was bold and reckless, like the hawk which
he so much admired. He lost all the lands that his father had left
him, and was at last shut up in prison, where he was kept until he
died.
William Rufus was so over-bear-ing and cruel that he was feared and
hated by all his people. He led a wicked life, and was killed by one
of his own men while hunting in the forest.
And Henry, the Handsome Scholar, had not only the chest of gold for
his own, but he became by and by the King of England and the ruler of
all the lands that his father had had in France.
THE WHITE SHIP.
King Henry, the Handsome Scholar, had one son, named William, whom he
dearly loved. The young man was noble and brave, and every-body hoped
that he would some day be the King of England.
One summer Prince William went with his father across the sea to look
after their lands in France. They were wel-comed with joy by all
their people there, and the young prince was so gallant and kind, that
he won the love of all who saw him.
But at last the time came for them to go back to England. The king,
with his wise men and brave knights, set sail early in the day; but
Prince William with his younger friends waited a little while. They
had had so joyous a time in France that they were in no great haste to
tear them-selves away.
Then they went on board of the ship which was waiting to carry them
home. It was a beau-ti-ful ship with white sails and white masts, and
it had been fitted up on purpose for this voyage.
The sea was smooth, the winds were fair, and no one thought of danger.
On the ship, every-thing had been ar-ranged to make the trip a
pleasant one. There was music and dancing, and everybody was merry and
glad.
The sun had gone down before the white-winged vessel was fairly out of
the bay. But what of that? The moon was at its full, and it would give
light enough; and before the dawn of the morrow, the narrow sea would
be crossed. And so the prince, and the young people who were with him,
gave themselves up to mer-ri-ment and feasting and joy.
The ear-li-er hours of the night passed by; and then there was a cry
of alarm on deck. A moment after-ward there was a great crash. The
ship had struck upon a rock. The water rushed in. She was sinking. Ah,
where now were those who had lately been so heart-free and glad?
Every heart was full of fear. No one knew what to do. A small boat was
quickly launched, and the prince with a few of his bravest friends
leaped into it. They pushed off just as the ship was be-gin-ning to
settle beneath the waves. Would they be saved?
They had rowed hardly ten yards from the ship, when there was a cry
from among those that were left behind.
"Row back!" cried the prince. "It is my little sister. She must be
saved!"
The men did not dare to disobey. The boat was again brought along-side
of the sinking vessel. The prince stood up, and held out his arms for
his sister. At that moment the ship gave a great lurch forward into
the waves. One shriek of terror was heard, and then all was still save
the sound of the moaning waters.
Ship and boat, prince and prin-cess, and all the gay com-pa-ny that
had set sail from France, went down to the bottom together. One man
clung to a floating plank, and was saved the next day. He was the only
person left alive to tell the sad story.
When King Henry heard of the death of his son his grief was more than
he could bear. His heart was broken. He had no more joy in life; and
men say that no one ever saw him smile again.
Here is a poem about him that your teacher may read to you, and
perhaps, after a while, you may learn it by heart.
HE NEVER SMILED AGAIN.
The bark that held the prince went down,
The sweeping waves rolled on;
And what was England's glorious crown
To him that wept a son?
He lived, for life may long be borne
Ere sorrow breaks its chain:
Why comes not death to those who mourn?
He never smiled again.
There stood proud forms before his throne,
The stately and the brave;
But who could fill the place of one,--
That one beneath the wave?
Before him passed the young and fair,
In pleasure's reckless train;
But seas dashed o'er his son's bright hair--
He never smiled again.
He sat where festal bowls went round;
He heard the minstrel sing;
He saw the tour-ney's victor crowned
Amid the knightly ring.
A murmur of the restless deep
Was blent with every strain,
A voice of winds that would not sleep--
He never smiled again.
Hearts, in that time, closed o'er the trace
Of vows once fondly poured,
And strangers took the kins-man's place
At many a joyous board;
Graves which true love had bathed with tears
Were left to heaven's bright rain;
Fresh hopes were born for other years--
_He_ never smiled again!
MRS. HEMANS.
KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT.
I. THE THREE QUESTIONS.
There was once a king of England whose name was John. He was a bad
king; for he was harsh and cruel to his people, and so long as he
could have his own way, he did not care what became of other folks. He
was the worst king that England ever had.
Now, there was in the town of Can´ter-bur-y a rich old abbot who lived
in grand style in a great house called the Abbey. Every day a hundred
noble men sat down with him to dine; and fifty brave knights, in fine
velvet coats and gold chains, waited upon him at his table.
When King John heard of the way in which the abbot lived, he made up
his mind to put a stop to it. So he sent for the old man to come and
see him.
"How now, my good abbot?" he said. "I hear that you keep a far better
house than I. How dare you do such a thing? Don't you know that no man
in the land ought to live better than the king? And I tell you that no
man shall."
"O king!" said the abbot, "I beg to say that I am spending nothing but
what is my own. I hope that you will not think ill of me for making
things pleasant for my friends and the brave knights who are with me."
"Think ill of you?" said the king. "How can I help but think ill of
you? All that there is in this broad land is mine by right; and how do
you dare to put me to shame by living in grander style than I? One
would think that you were trying to be king in my place."
"Oh, do not say so!" said the abbot "For I"--
"Not another word!" cried the king. "Your fault is plain, and unless
you can answer me three questions, your head shall be cut off, and all
your riches shall be mine."
"I will try to answer them, O king!" said the abbot.
"Well, then," said King John, "as I sit here with my crown of gold on
my head, you must tell me to within a day just how long I shall live.
Sec-ond-ly, you must tell me how soon I shall ride round the whole
world; and lastly, you shall tell me what I think."
"O king!" said the abbot, "these are deep, hard questions, and I
cannot answer them just now. But if you will give me two weeks to
think about them, I will do the best that I can."
"Two weeks you shall have," said the king; "but if then you fail to
answer me, you shall lose your head, and all your lands shall be
mine."
The abbot went away very sad and in great fear. He first rode to
Oxford. Here was a great school, called a u-ni-ver´si-ty, and he
wanted to see if any of the wise pro-fess-ors could help him. But they
shook their heads, and said that there was nothing about King John in
any of their books.
Then the abbot rode down to Cam-bridge, where there was another
u-ni-ver-si-ty. But not one of the teachers in that great school could
help him.
At last, sad and sor-row-ful, he rode toward home to bid his friends
and his brave knights good-by. For now he had not a week to live.
II. THE THREE ANSWERS.
As the abbot was riding up the lane which led to his grand house, he
met his shep-herd going to the fields.
"Welcome home, good master!" cried the shepherd. "What news do you
bring us from great King John?"
"Sad news, sad news," said the abbot; and then he told him all that
had happened.
"Cheer up, cheer up, good master," said the shepherd. "Have you never
yet heard that a fool may teach a wise man wit? I think I can help you
out of your trouble."
"You help me!" cried the abbot "How? how?"
"Well," answered the shepherd, "you know that everybody says that I
look just like you, and that I have some-times been mis-tak-en for
you. So, lend me your servants and your horse and your gown, and I
will go up to London and see the king. If nothing else can be done, I
can at least die in your place."
"My good shepherd," said the abbot, "you are very, very kind; and I
have a mind to let you try your plan. But if the worst comes to the
worst, you shall not die for me. I will die for myself."
So the shepherd got ready to go at once. He dressed himself with
great care. Over his shepherd's coat he threw the abbot's long gown,
and he bor-rowed the abbot's cap and golden staff. When all was ready,
no one in the world would have thought that he was not the great man
himself. Then he mounted his horse, and with a great train of servants
set out for London.
Of course the king did not know him.
"Welcome, Sir Abbot!" he said. "It is a good thing that you have come
back. But, prompt as you are, if you fail to answer my three
questions, you shall lose your head."
"I am ready to answer them, O king!" said the shepherd.
"Indeed, indeed!" said the king, and he laughed to himself. "Well,
then, answer my first question: How long shall I live? Come, you must
tell me to the very day."
"You shall live," said the shepherd, "until the day that you die, and
not one day longer. And you shall die when you take your last breath,
and not one moment before."
The king laughed.
"You are witty, I see," he said. "But we will let that pass, and say
that your answer is right. And now tell me how soon I may ride round
the world."
[Illustration: "You shall live until the day that you die."]
"You must rise with the sun," said the shepherd, "and you must ride
with the sun until it rises again the next morning. As soon as you do
that, you will find that you have ridden round the world in
twenty-four hours."
The king laughed again. "Indeed," he said, "I did not think that it
could be done so soon. You are not only witty, but you are wise, and
we will let this answer pass. And now comes my third and last
question: What do I think?"
"That is an easy question," said the shepherd. "You think that I am
the Abbot of Can-ter-bur-y. But, to tell you the truth, I am only his
poor shepherd, and I have come to beg your pardon for him and for me."
And with that, he threw off his long gown.
The king laughed loud and long.
"A merry fellow you are," said he, "and you shall be the Abbot of
Canterbury in your master's place."
"O king! that cannot be," said the shepherd; "for I can neither read
nor write."
"Very well, then," said the king, "I will give you something else to
pay you for this merry joke. I will give you four pieces of silver
every week as long as you live. And when you get home, you may tell
the old abbot that you have brought him a free pardon from King
John."
A STORY OF ROBIN HOOD.
In the rude days of King Rich-ard and King John there were many great
woods in England. The most famous of these was Sher-wood forest, where
the king often went to hunt deer. In this forest there lived a band of
daring men called out-laws.
They had done something that was against the laws of the land, and had
been forced to hide themselves in the woods to save their lives. There
they spent their time in roaming about among the trees, in hunting the
king's deer, and in robbing rich trav-el-ers that came that way.
There were nearly a hundred of these outlaws, and their leader was a
bold fellow called Robin Hood. They were dressed in suits of green,
and armed with bows and arrows; and sometimes they carried long wooden
lances and broad-swords, which they knew how to handle well. When-ever
they had taken anything, it was brought and laid at the feet of Robin
Hood, whom they called their king. He then di-vid-ed it fairly among
them, giving to each man his just share.
Robin never allowed his men to harm any-body but the rich men who
lived in great houses and did no work. He was always kind to the poor,
and he often sent help to them; and for that reason the common people
looked upon him as their friend.
Long after he was dead, men liked to talk about his deeds. Some
praised him, and some blamed him. He was, indeed, a rude, lawless
fellow; but at that time, people did not think of right and wrong as
they do now.
A great many songs were made up about Robin Hood, and these songs were
sung in the cot-ta-ges and huts all over the land for hundreds of
years after-ward.
Here is a little story that is told in one of those songs:--
Robin Hood was standing one day under a green tree by the road-side.
While he was lis-ten-ing to the birds among the leaves, he saw a young
man passing by. This young man was dressed in a fine suit of bright
red cloth; and, as he tripped gayly along the road, he seemed to be as
happy as the day.
"I will not trou-ble him," said Robin Hood, "for I think he is on his
way to his wedding."
The next day Robin stood in the same place. He had not been there long
when he saw the same young man coming down the road. But he did not
seem to be so happy this time. He had left his scarlet coat at home,
and at every step he sighed and groaned.
"Ah the sad day! the sad day!" he kept saying to himself.
Then Robin Hood stepped out from under the tree, and said,--
"I say, young man! Have you any money to spare for my merry men and
me?"
"I have nothing at all," said the young man, "but five shil-lings and
a ring."
"A gold ring?" asked Robin.
"Yes?" said the young man, "it is a gold ring. Here it is."
"Ah, I see!" said Robin: "it is a wedding ring."
"I have kept it these seven years," said the young man; "I have kept
it to give to my bride on our wedding day. We were going to be married
yes-ter-day. But her father has prom-ised her to a rich old man whom
she never saw. And now my heart is broken."
"What is your name?" asked Robin.
"My name is Allin-a-Dale," said the young man.
"What will you give me, in gold or fee," said Robin, "if I will help
you win your bride again in spite of the rich old man to whom she has
been promised?"
[Illustration]
"I have no money," said Allin, "but I will promise to be your
servant."
"How many miles is it to the place where the maiden lives?" asked
Robin.
"It is not far," said Allin. "But she is to be married this very day,
and the church is five miles away."
Then Robin made haste to dress himself as a harper; and in the
after-noon he stood in the door of the church.
"Who are you?" said the bishop, "and what are you doing here?"
"I am a bold harper," said Robin, "the best in the north country."
"I am glad you have come," said the bishop kindly. "There is no music
that I like so well as that of the harp. Come in, and play for us."
"I will go in," said Robin Hood; "but I will not give you any music
until I see the bride and bridegroom."
Just then an old man came in. He was dressed in rich clothing, but was
bent with age, and was feeble and gray. By his side walked a fair
young girl. Her cheeks were very pale, and her eyes were full of
tears.
"This is no match," said Robin. "Let the bride choose for herself."
Then he put his horn to his lips, and blew three times. The very next
minute, four and twenty men, all dressed in green, and car-ry-ing long
bows in their hands, came running across the fields. And as they
marched into the church, all in a row, the fore-most among them was
Allin-a-Dale.
"Now whom do you choose?" said Robin to the maiden.
"I choose Allin-a-Dale," she said, blushing.
"And Allin-a-Dale you shall have," said Robin; "and he that takes you
from Allin-a-Dale shall find that he has Robin Hood to deal with."
And so the fair maiden and Allin-a-Dale were married then and there,
and the rich old man went home in a great rage.
"And thus having ended this merry wedding,
The bride looked like a queen:
And so they re-turned to the merry green wood,
Amongst the leaves so green."
BRUCE AND THE SPIDER.
There was once a king of Scot-land whose name was Robert Bruce. He had
need to be both brave and wise, for the times in which he lived were
wild and rude. The King of England was at war with him, and had led a
great army into Scotland to drive him out of the land.
Battle after battle had been fought. Six times had Bruce led his brave
little army against his foes; and six times had his men been beaten,
and driven into flight. At last his army was scat-tered, and he was
forced to hide himself in the woods and in lonely places among the
moun-tains.
One rainy day, Bruce lay on the ground under a rude shed, lis-ten-ing
to the patter of the drops on the roof above him. He was tired and
sick at heart, and ready to give up all hope. It seemed to him that
there was no use for him to try to do anything more.
As he lay thinking, he saw a spider over his head, making ready to
weave her web. He watched her as she toiled slowly and with great
care. Six times she tried to throw her frail thread from one beam to
another, and six times it fell short.
"Poor thing!" said Bruce: "you, too, know what it is to fail."
But the spider did not lose hope with the sixth failure. With still
more care, she made ready to try for the seventh time. Bruce almost
forgot his own troubles as he watched her swing herself out upon the
slender line. Would she fail again? No! The thread was carried safely
to the beam, and fas-tened there.
"I, too, will try a seventh time!" cried Bruce.
He arose and called his men together. He told them of his plans, and
sent them out with mes-sa-ges of cheer to his dis-heart-ened people.
Soon there was an army of brave Scotch-men around him. Another battle
was fought, and the King of England was glad to go back into his own
country.
I have heard it said, that, after that day, no one by the name of
Bruce would ever hurt a spider. The lesson which the little crea-ture
had taught the king was never for-got-ten.
THE BLACK DOUGLAS.
In Scotland, in the time of King Robert Bruce, there lived a brave man
whose name was Doug-las. His hair and beard were black and long, and
his face was tanned and dark; and for this reason people nicknamed him
the Black Douglas. He was a good friend of the king, and one of his
strongest helpers.
In the war with the English, who were trying to drive Bruce from
Scotland, the Black Douglas did many brave deeds; and the English
people became very much afraid of him. By and by the fear of him
spread all through the land. Nothing could frighten an English lad
more than to tell him that the Black Douglas was not far away. Women
would tell their chil-dren, when they were naughty, that the Black
Douglas would get them; and this would make them very quiet and good.
There was a large cas-tle in Scotland which the English had taken
early in the war. The Scot-tish soldiers wanted very much to take it
again, and the Black Douglas and his men went one day to see what they
could do. It happened to be a hol-i-day, and most of the English
soldiers in the cas-tle were eating and drinking and having a merry
time. But they had left watch-men on the wall to see that the Scottish
soldiers did not come upon them un-a-wares; and so they felt quite
safe.
In the e-ven-ing, when it was growing dark, the wife of one of the
soldiers went up on the wall with her child in her arms. As she looked
over into the fields below the castle, she saw some dark objects
moving toward the foot of the wall. In the dusk she could not make out
what they were, and so she pointed them out to one of the watch-men.
"Pooh, pooh!" said the watchman. "Those are nothing to frighten us.
They are the farmer's cattle, trying to find their way home. The
farmer himself is en-joy-ing the hol-i-day, and he has forgotten to
bring them in. If the Douglas should happen this way before morning,
he will be sorry for his care-less-ness."
But the dark objects were not cattle. They were the Black Douglas and
his men, creeping on hands and feet toward the foot of the castle
wall. Some of them were dragging ladders behind them through the
grass. They would soon be climbing to the top of the wall. None of the
English soldiers dreamed that they were within many miles of the
place.
The woman watched them until the last one had passed around a corner
out of sight. She was not afraid, for in the dark-en-ing twi-light
they looked indeed like cattle. After a little while she began to sing
to her child:--
"Hush ye, hush ye, little pet ye,
Hush ye, hush ye, do not fret ye,
The Black Douglas shall not get ye."
All at once a gruff voice was heard behind her, saying, "Don't be so
sure about that!"
She looked around, and there stood the Black Douglas himself. At the
same moment a Scottish soldier climbed off a ladder and leaped upon
the wall; and then there came another and another and another, until
the wall was covered with them. Soon there was hot fighting in every
part of the castle. But the English were so taken by surprise that
they could not do much. Many of them were killed, and in a little
while the Black Douglas and his men were the masters of the castle,
which by right be-longed to them.
[Illustration: "Don't be so sure about that!"]
As for the woman and her child, the Black Douglas would not suffer any
one to harm them. After a while they went back to England; and whether
the mother made up any more songs about the Black Douglas I cannot
tell.
THREE MEN OF GOTHAM.
There is a town in England called Go-tham, and many merry stories are
told of the queer people who used to live there.
One day two men of Go-tham met on a bridge. Hodge was coming from the
market, and Peter was going to the market.
"Where are you going?" said Hodge.
"I am going to the market to buy sheep," said Peter.
"Buy sheep?" said Hodge. "And which way will you bring them home?"
"I shall bring them over this bridge," said Peter.
"No, you shall not," said Hodge.
"Yes, but I will," said Peter.
"You shall not," said Hodge.
"I will," said Peter.
Then they beat with their sticks on the ground as though there had
been a hundred sheep between them.
"Take care!" cried Peter. "Look out that my sheep don't jump on the
bridge."
"I care not where they jump," said Hodge; "but they shall not go over
it."
"But they shall," said Peter.
"Have a care," said Hodge; "for if you say too much, I will put my
fingers in your mouth."
"Will you?" said Peter.
Just then another man of Gotham came from the market with a sack of
meal on his horse. He heard his neigh-bors quar-rel-ing about sheep;
but he could see no sheep between them, and so he stopped and spoke to
them.
"Ah, you foolish fellows!" he cried. "It is strange that you will
never learn wisdom.--Come here, Peter, and help me lay my sack on my
shoul-der."
Peter did so, and the man carried his meal to the side of the bridge.
"Now look at me," he said, "and learn a lesson." And he opened the
mouth of the sack, and poured all the meal into the river.
"Now, neighbors," he said, "can you tell how much meal is in my
sack?"
[Illustration: "How much meal is in my sack?"]
"There is none at all!" cried Hodge and Peter together.
"You are right," said the man; "and you that stand here and quarrel
about nothing, have no more sense in your heads than I have meal in my
sack!"
OTHER WISE MEN OF GOTHAM.
One day, news was brought to Gotham that the king was coming that way,
and that he would pass through the town. This did not please the men
of Gotham at all. They hated the king, for they knew that he was a
cruel, bad man. If he came to their town, they would have to find food
and lodg-ing for him and his men; and if he saw anything that pleased
him, he would be sure to take it for his own. What should they do?
They met together to talk the matter over.
"Let us chop down the big trees in the woods, so that they will block
up all the roads that lead into the town," said one of the wise men.
"Good!" said all the rest.
So they went out with their axes, and soon all the roads and paths to
the town were filled with logs and brush. The king's horse-men would
have a hard time of it getting into Gotham. They would either have to
make a new road, or give up the plan al-to-geth-er, and go on to some
other place.
When the king came, and saw that the road had been blocked up, he was
very angry.
"Who chopped those trees down in my way?" he asked of two country lads
that were passing by.
"The men of Gotham," said the lads.
"Well," said the king, "go and tell the men of Gotham that I shall
send my sher-iff into their town, and have all their noses cut off."
The two lads ran to the town as fast as they could, and made known
what the king had said.
Every-body was in great fright. The men ran from house to house,
carrying the news, and asking one another what they should do.
"Our wits have kept the king out of the town," said one; "and so now
our wits must save our noses."
"True, true!" said the others. "But what shall we do?"
Then one, whose name was Dobbin, and who was thought to be the wisest
of them all, said, "Let me tell you something. Many a man has been
punished because he was wise, but I have never heard of any one being
harmed because he was a fool. So, when the king's sher-iff comes, let
us all act like fools."
"Good, good!" cried the others. "We will all act like fools."
It was no easy thing for the king's men to open the roads; and while
they were doing it, the king grew tired of waiting, and went back to
London. But very early one morning, the sheriff with a party of fierce
soldiers rode through the woods, and between the fields, toward
Gotham. Just before they reached the town, they saw a queer sight. The
old men were rolling big stones up the hill, and all the young men
were looking on, and grunting very loudly.
The sheriff stopped his horses, and asked what they were doing.
"We are rolling stones up-hill to make the sun rise," said one of the
old men.
"You foolish fellow!" said the sheriff. "Don't you know that the sun
will rise without any help?"
"Ah! will it?" said the old man. "Well, I never thought of that. How
wise you are!"
"And what are _you_ doing?" said the sheriff to the young men.
"Oh, we do the grunting while our fathers do the working," they
answered.
"I see," said the sheriff. "Well, that is the way the world goes
every-where." And he rode on toward the town.
He soon came to a field where a number of men were building a stone
wall.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Why, master," they answered, "there is a cuck-oo in this field, and
we are building a wall around it so as to keep the bird from straying
away."
"You foolish fellows!" said the sheriff. "Don't you know that the bird
will fly over the top of your wall, no matter how high you build it?"
"Why, no," they said. "We never thought of that. How very wise you
are!"
The sheriff next met a man who was carrying a door on his back.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"I have just started on a long jour-ney," said the man.
"But why do you carry that door?" asked the sheriff.
"I left my money at home."
"Then why didn't you leave the door at home too?"
"I was afraid of thieves; and you see, if I have the door with me,
they can't break it open and get in."
"You foolish fellow!" said the sheriff. "It would be safer to leave
the door at home, and carry the money with you."
"Ah, would it, though?" said the man. "Now, I never thought of that.
You are the wisest man that I ever saw."
Then the sheriff rode on with his men; but every one that they met was
doing some silly thing.
"Truly I believe that the people of Gotham are all fools," said one of
the horsemen.
"That is true," said another. "It would be a shame to harm such simple
people."
"Let us ride back to London, and tell the king all about them," said
the sheriff.
"Yes, let us do so," said the horsemen.
So they went back, and told the king that Gotham was a town of fools;
and the king laughed, and said that if that was the case, he would not
harm them, but would let them keep their noses.
THE MILLER OF THE DEE.
Once upon a time there lived on the banks of the River Dee a miller,
who was the hap-pi-est man in England. He was always busy from morning
till night, and he was always singing as merrily as any lark. He was
so cheerful that he made everybody else cheerful; and people all over
the land liked to talk about his pleasant ways. At last the king heard
about him.
"I will go down and talk with this won-der-ful miller," he said.
"Perhaps he can tell me how to be happy."
As soon as he stepped inside of the mill, he heard the miller
singing:--
"I envy no-body--no, not I!--
For I am as happy as I can be;
And nobody envies me."
"You're wrong, my friend," said the king. "You're wrong as wrong can
be. I envy you; and I would gladly change places with you, if I could
only be as light-hearted as you are."
The miller smiled, and bowed to the king.
"I am sure I could not think of changing places with you, sir," he
said.
"Now tell me," said the king, "what makes you so cheerful and glad
here in your dusty mill, while I, who am king, am sad and in trouble
every day."
The miller smiled again, and said, "I do not know why you are sad, but
I can eas-i-ly tell why I am glad. I earn my own bread; I love my wife
and my children; I love my friends, and they love me; and I owe not a
penny to any man. Why should I not be happy? For here is the River
Dee, and every day it turns my mill; and the mill grinds the corn that
feeds my wife, my babes, and me."
[Illustration]
"Say no more," said the king. "Stay where you are, and be happy still.
But I envy you. Your dusty cap is worth more than my golden crown.
Your mill does more for you than my kingdom can do for me. If there
were more such men as you, what a good place this world would be!
Good-by, my friend!"
The king turned about, and walked sadly away; and the miller went back
to his work singing:--
"Oh, I'm as happy as happy can be,
For I live by the side of the River Dee!"
SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.
A cruel battle was being fought. The ground was covered with dead and
dying men. The air was hot and stifling. The sun shone down without
pity on the wounded soldiers lying in the blood and dust.
One of these soldiers was a no-ble-man, whom everybody loved for his
gen-tle-ness and kindness. Yet now he was no better off than the
poorest man in the field. He had been wounded, and would die; and he
was suf-fer-ing much with pain and thirst.
When the battle was over, his friends hurried to his aid. A soldier
came running with a cup in his hand.
"Here, Sir Philip," he said, "I have brought you some clear, cool
water from the brook. I will raise your head so that you can drink."
The cup was placed to Sir Philip's lips. How thank-ful-ly he looked at
the man who had brought it! Then his eyes met those of a dying soldier
who was lying on the ground close by. The wist-ful look in the poor
man's face spoke plainer than words.
"Give the water to that man," said Sir Philip quickly; and then,
pushing the cup toward him, he said, "Here, my comrade, take this. Thy
need is greater than mine."
What a brave, noble man he was! The name of Sir Philip Sidney will
never be for-got-ten; for it was the name of a Chris-tian gen-tle-man
who always had the good of others in his mind. Was it any wonder that
everybody wept when it was heard that he was dead?
It is said, that, on the day when he was carried to the grave, every
eye in the land was filled with tears. Rich and poor, high and low,
all felt that they had lost a friend; all mourned the death of the
kindest, gentlest man that they had ever known.
THE UNGRATEFUL SOLDIER.
Here is another story of the bat-tle-field, and it is much like the
one which I have just told you.
Not quite a hundred years after the time of Sir Philip Sidney there
was a war between the Swedes and the Danes. One day a great battle was
fought, and the Swedes were beaten, and driven from the field. A
soldier of the Danes who had been slightly wounded was sitting on the
ground. He was about to take a drink from a flask. All at once he
heard some one say,--
"O sir! give me a drink, for I am dying."
It was a wounded Swede who spoke. He was lying on the ground only a
little way off. The Dane went to him at once. He knelt down by the
side of his fallen foe, and pressed the flask to his lips.
"Drink," said he, "for thy need is greater than mine."
Hardly had he spoken these words, when the Swede raised himself on his
elbow. He pulled a pistol from his pocket, and shot at the man who
would have be-friend-ed him. The bullet grazed the Dane's shoulder,
but did not do him much harm.
"Ah, you rascal!" he cried. "I was going to befriend you, and you
repay me by trying to kill me. Now I will punish you. I would have
given you all the water, but now you shall have only half." And with
that he drank the half of it, and then gave the rest to the Swede.
[Illustration]
When the King of the Danes heard about this, he sent for the soldier
and had him tell the story just as it was.
"Why did you spare the life of the Swede after he had tried to kill
you?" asked the king.
"Because, sir," said the soldier, "I could never kill a wounded
enemy."
"Then you deserve to be a no-ble-man," said the king. And he
re-ward-ed him by making him a knight, and giving him a noble title.
SIR HUMPHREY GILBERT.
More than three hundred years ago there lived in England a brave man
whose name was Sir Humphrey Gil-bert. At that time there were no white
people in this country of ours. The land was covered with forests; and
where there are now great cities and fine farms there were only trees
and swamps among which roamed wild In-di-ans and wild beasts.
Sir Hum-phrey Gilbert was one of the first men who tried to make a
set-tle-ment in A-mer-i-ca. Twice did he bring men and ships over the
sea, and twice did he fail, and sail back for England. The second
time, he was on a little ship called the "Squirrel." Another ship,
called the "Golden Hind," was not far away. When they were three days
from land, the wind failed, and the ships lay floating on the waves.
Then at night the air grew very cold. A breeze sprang up from the
east. Great white ice-bergs came drifting around them. In the morning
the little ships were almost lost among the floating mountains of ice.
The men on the "Hind" saw Sir Humphrey sitting on the deck of the
"Squirrel" with an open book in his hand. He called to them and
said,--
"Be brave, my friends! We are as near heaven on the sea as on the
land."