In the city of Corinth [Footnote: Cor'inth.] there once lived a
wonderful musician whose name was Arion. [Footnote: A r_i_'on.] No
other person could play on the lyre or sing so sweetly as he; and
the songs which he composed were famous in many lands.
The king of Corinth was his friend. The people of Corinth never grew
tired of praising his sweet music.
One summer he went over the sea to Italy; for his name was well known
there, and many people wished to hear him sing.
He visited several cities, and in each place he was well paid for his
music.
At last, having become quite rich, he decided to go home. There was
a ship just ready to sail for Corinth, and the captain agreed to take
him as a passenger.
The sea was rough. The ship was driven far out of her course. Many
days passed before they came in sight of land.
The sailors were rude and unruly. The captain himself had been a
robber.
When they heard that Arion had a large sum of money with him they began
to make plans to get it.
"The easiest way," said the captain, "is to throw him overboard. Then
there will be no one to tell tales."
Arion overheard them plotting.
"You may take everything that I have," he said, "if you will only spare
my life."
But they had made up their minds to get rid of him. They feared to
spare him lest he should report the matter to the king.
"Your life we will not spare," they said; "but we will give you the
choice of two things. You must either jump overboard into the sea or
be slain with your own sword. Which shall it be?"
"I shall jump overboard," said Arion, "but I pray that you will first
grant me a favor."
"What is it?" asked the captain.
"Allow me to sing to you my latest and best song. I promise that as
soon as it is finished I will leap into the sea."
The sailors agreed; for they were anxious to hear the musician whose
songs were famous all over the world.
[Illustration]
Arion dressed himself in his finest clothing. He took his stand on the
forward deck, while the robber sailors stood in a half circle before
him, anxious to listen to his song.
He touched his lyre and began to play the accompaniment. Then he sang
a wonderful song, so sweet, so lively, so touching, that many of the
sailors were moved to tears.
And now they would have spared him; but he was true to his promise,--
as soon as the song was finished, he threw himself headlong into the
sea.
The sailors divided his money among themselves; and the ship sailed
on. In a short time they reached Corinth in safety, and the king sent
an officer to bring the captain and his men to the palace.
"Are you lately from Italy?" he asked.
"We are," they answered.
"What news can you give me concerning my friend Arion, the sweetest
of all musicians?"
"He was well and happy when we left Italy," they answered. "He has
a mind to spend the rest of his life in that country."
Hardly had they spoken these words when the door opened and Arion
himself stood before them. He was dressed just as they had seen him
when he jumped into the sea. They were so astonished that they fell
upon their knees before the king and confessed their crime.
Now, how was Arion saved from drowning when he leaped overboard?
Old story-tellers say that he alighted on the back of a large fish,
called a dolphin, which had been charmed by his music and was swimming
near the ship. The dolphin carried him with great speed to the nearest
shore. Then, full of joy, the musician hastened to Corinth, not
stopping even to change his dress.
He told his wonderful story to the king; but the king would not believe
him.
"Wait," said he, "till the ship arrives, and then we shall know the
truth." Three hours later, the ship came into port, as you have already
learned. Other people think that the dolphin which saved Arion was not
a fish, but a ship named the _Dolphin_. They say that Arion, being a
good swimmer, kept himself afloat until this ship happened to pass by
and rescued him from the waves.
You may believe the story that you like best. The name of Arion is
still remembered as that of a most wonderful musician.
"LITTLE BROTHERS OF THE AIR"
The man of whom I am now going to tell you was famous, not for his
wealth or his power or his deeds in war, but for his great gentleness.
He lived more than seven hundred years ago in a quaint little town of
Italy. His name was Francis, and because of his goodness, all men now
call him St. Francis.
[Illustration]
Very kind and loving was St. Francis--kind and loving not only to men
but to all living things. He spoke of the birds as his little brothers
of the air, and he could never bear to see them harmed.
At Christmas time he scattered crumbs of bread under the trees, so
that the tiny creatures could feast and be happy.
Once when a boy gave him a pair of doves which he had snared, St.
Francis had a nest made for them, and the mother bird laid her eggs
in it.
By and by, the eggs hatched, and a nestful of young doves grew up.
They were so tame that they sat on the shoulders of St. Francis and
ate from his hand.
And many other stories are told of this man's great love and pity for
the timid creatures which lived in the fields and woods.
One day as he was walking among the trees the birds saw him and flew
down to greet him. They sang their sweetest songs to show how much
they loved him. Then, when they saw that he was about to speak, they
nestled softly in the grass and listened.
"O little birds," he said, "I love you, for you are my brothers and
sisters of the air. Let me tell you something, my little brothers, my
little sisters: You ought always to love God and praise Him.
"For think what He has given you. He has given you wings with which
to fly through the air. He has given you clothing both warm and
beautiful. He has given you the air in which to move and have homes.
"And think of this, O little brothers: you sow not, neither do you
reap, for God feeds you. He gives you the rivers and the brooks from
which to drink. He gives you the mountains and the valleys where you
may rest. He gives you the trees in which to build your nests.
"You toil not, neither do you spin, yet God takes care of you and your
little ones. It must be, then, that He loves you. So, do not be
ungrateful, but sing His praises and thank Him for his goodness toward
you."
Then the saint stopped speaking and looked around him. All the birds
sprang up joyfully. They spread their wings and opened their mouths
to show that they understood his words.
And when he had blessed them, all began to sing; and the whole forest
was filled with sweetness and joy because of their wonderful melodies.