youngest laughed when they saw the dandelions and kissed them with
delight. The older children made wreaths and dainty chains of them. They
picked carefully those that had gone to seed, and tried to blow the
feathery down off with one breath, making joyous wishes.
"Do you see," said the sunbeam, "the beauty of the dandelion?"
"Only to children are they beautiful," said the proud apple blossom.
By and by an old woman came into the field. She gathered the roots of
the dandelions, out of which she made tea for the sick, and she sold
others for money to buy milk for the children.
"But beauty is better than all this," still said the proud little apple
blossom. Just then the princess came along. In her hand she carried
something that seemed like a beautiful flower. She covered it carefully
from the wind. What do you think it was? It was the feathery crown of
the dandelion. "See!" she said, "how beautiful it is! I will paint it in
a picture with the apple blossoms."
Then the sunbeam kissed the apple blossom, and as he stooped low to kiss
the dandelion the apple blossom blushed with shame.
Hans Christian Andersen [Adapted]
THE BRAVE KNIGHT
When Christ was on earth, He had a little band of disciples who loved
him very much. The night before He went away from them, He took them to
a little upstairs room and there had a supper with them. And it was said
that at that supper, He used a beautiful golden cup in which He passed
the wine to them, and when He went away from earth, the disciples loved
everything He had touched, and they seemed to love most of all this
golden cup. They called it the Holy Grail, and it was given to a very
good man, who cared for it carefully, and for years it passed from one
good man to another, for it was said that if it ever fell into the hands
of a man who was not good and Christ-loving the cup would be lost.
So for many years it was carefully kept, and people took long journeys
to see the Holy Grail, which the Master himself used when He was on
earth. But one day the cup passed into the hands of one who was not
worthy, and, as it had been said, it was lost.
They searched for it far and near, but it could not be found. Finally
there came some men who called themselves knights. They were brave,
strong men, who did many wonderful things for the king, and many of them
said: "We will spend our lives hunting for the Holy Grail. We will take
long pilgrimages until we find it." And so the knights searched over
land and sea, over mountain and plain, hunting for the Holy Grail, but
still they found it not. Then there came a knight whose name was Sir
Launfal. He was very young--so young that he had never made a journey,
nor worn an armor, nor had he ever done a wonderful deed. But he was
brave, and said in his heart: "I will find the Holy Grail." So he went
to the silversmith and had a beautiful silver armor and golden spurs
made, and to the helmet-maker, who made him a helmet of shining silver.
Next he chose from the stables the finest steed, and he was then ready
for the journey, and Sir Launfal's heart was full of hope.
On the night before the pilgrimage he lay in his room, and the armor
hung on the wall before him, with the helmet beside it, and the horse
stood ready in the stable. At the first ray of morning he was to begin
his journey, and as he lay he slept, and dreamed a dream. He thought it
was already morning--the morning of his pilgrimage. He had on his armor
and his silver helmet, and was riding out of the castle gate on his
beautiful steed. It was a June morning, and everything was beautiful.
The very flowers and green grass beneath his feet seemed to bring Sir
Launfal a message of hope. And as he rode his heart was very glad, and
he said: "I shall find the Holy Grail." He was riding out of the great
castle gate when he heard a voice which was tired and weak, and it said:
"Will you please give me something?" Sir Launfal looked in surprise, and
there, crouching beside the castle gate, was a beggar, poor and ragged
and weak, and it was he who had asked in a tired voice, "Will you please
give me something?" Sir Launfal looked at him and frowned, and said in
his heart, "Why does this beggar lie at my castle gate to spoil the
beauty of the morning?" But, because he was a knight and felt that he
must give something, he took from his purse a piece of gold and threw it
to the beggar. But the beggar looked at him and said, seeing his
scornful frown: "I do not wish your gold that you give with scorn.
Better to me a poor man's crust." But Sir Launfal rode proudly down the
road on his way, for he felt that he could no longer listen to the poor
beggar. Then he rode over land and sea, over mountain and plain,
searching everywhere for the Holy Grail, and, although it sometimes
seemed very near, he did not find it.
He had now grown to be an old man. The helmet and armor were rusted, his
clothes had become thin and ragged, he was stooped and gray, and his
eyes had grown dim with the years, but still he searched, and said in
his heart: "I will find the Holy Grail." Then he seemed to be near his
old home one night, and he said to himself: "Before I go on my way I
will once more look at my old home." And he entered the gate, and as he
was walking up the path he heard a voice, tired and weak, and it said:
"Will you please give me something?" He looked down, and there by his
feet lay the beggar who had asked for something at his castle gate the
morning he had started on his pilgrimage.
This time Sir Launfal looked at him and smiled. Then he said: "I have
only a crust of bread, but I will gladly share it with you." Then,
taking from his pocket a single crust of bread, he stooped and gave the
half to the beggar. Then Sir Launfal said: "I will get you water to
quench your thirst," and he went to where the little spring ran merrily
along in the twilight, and, taking from his pocket a little tin cup,
battered and rusted from years of use, he filled it to the brim with
clear, cold water, and returned with it to the beggar. As soon as the
tin cup touched the beggar's hand it turned into a shining cup of gold,
and behold! the beggar was no longer there, but in his place there stood
a man, tall, strong and beautiful, wearing shining white garments, and
around his head there seemed a radiant glow of light. The beautiful man
looked at Sir Launfal, and he said, in a voice full of love and
gentleness: "In your own castle yard you have found the Holy Grail by
doing kindly service to one of my needy ones."
The beautiful man was gone. Sir Launfal lay in his room. The morning
sunlight came in through the window, telling him it was time to arise
and go on his journey. And his helmet and armor still hung on the wall,
ready for him; but Sir Launfal lay long in thought. There was no need of
his long pilgrimage, for the poor and the needy were close to his door,
and he stayed to help them with gifts of love.
James Russell Lowell [Adapted]
KING ROBERT OF SICILY
King Robert was ruler of all Sicily. Many lands and beautiful castles
were his, and he had many servants, who obeyed his every word; but they
obeyed not because they loved him, but because they feared him. He was a
proud king, and haughty--that is, he would look over his lands, and he
would say: "Surely, this is a great kingdom, and I am a great king!"
One Easter Sunday morning, King Robert went to church. He wore his
finest robes, and riding with him were all of his lords and ladies. The
morning was beautiful, and everything seemed to bear a message of love
and joy. The grass and flowers that grew by the roadside, the trees that
waved their branches above, and the blue sky, all seemed to bear the
same message.
But King Robert saw nothing beautiful. He was thinking only of himself.
They reached the church, and the sunlight came through the beautiful
windows, seeming to speak of God above. The pure white lilies on the
altar whispered to each other, "On this day Christ was risen!" The music
from the organ seemed to reach every heart, but King Robert sat unmoved
in his pew. When the minister spoke, the king heard nothing of the
sermon until certain words caught his ear. The minister was saying these
words: "The Lord can exalt the humble and can bring down the proud and
mighty from their seats." The choir chanted the words again and again.
As the king heard, he threw back his head and said: "Why do they teach
such words as these? There is no power on earth or in heaven above that
could take my throne."
By and by the king fell asleep in his pew. He must have slept a long
time, for when he awoke the great church was dark and the moonlight was
streaming through the great glass windows. The king sprang to his feet
in alarm, and said: "How dare they go away and leave me alone?" He
rushed quickly to the door, but it was locked. He called loudly and
knocked upon the door, and finally the old sexton, asleep on the
outside, heard the noise and shouted: "Who is there?" And the king
answered: "It is I--the king. Open the door!"
The old sexton shook his head and murmured to himself: "It must be some
madman locked in the church," but he unlocked the door, and the king
rushed wildly out--on out in the street, where the moonlight fell upon
him. Then suddenly he stopped and gazed at his clothes in amazement, for
instead of wearing his royal robes he wore nothing but rags. His crown
was gone, and he seemed a beggar, and he cried out: "How can these
things be? Some one has robbed me while I have slept, and left me these
rags."
Then he rushed on to the great castle, and at the gate he again called:
"Open! I, the king, am here." The great gate swung open and the king
rushed on through the great castle halls, never pausing until he reached
the throne room, and there he stopped and stood looking in surprise and
amazement, for there on his throne sat another king, wearing his crown
and wearing his robes, and holding in his hand his scepter. King Robert
looked at the new king and cried: "Why do you sit on my throne, wearing
my robes and my crown and my scepter?"
The new king only smiled and said: "I am the king, and who art thou?"
King Robert threw back his head haughtily and answered: "I am the king.
You have no right on my throne."
At these words the strange king smiled sadly, and replied: "I am the
king, and thou shalt be my servant. Yes, thou shalt be the servant of
all my servants, for thou shalt be court jester, and wear the cap and
bells, and have for your companion the ugly ape."
Before King Robert could say more, the servants came and hurried him
through the castle halls, down to a little room, cold and bare, with
nothing but a pile of straw in a corner, and there they left him alone,
save for the ugly ape, which sat in the corner grinning at him. As King
Robert looked down on the rough pile of straw he said: "It must surely
be a dream, and I will awaken in the morning and find myself the king."
The morning came, but when he awoke he heard the rustle of the straw
beneath him, and there in the corner still sat the ugly ape. That day
the new king called him to the throne, and, looking at him, said: "Art
thou the king?" And King Robert proudly threw back his head as before
and answered: "I am the king."
And each day the new king sent for him and asked him the same question,
and each day King Robert gave the same proud and haughty answer. One day
there came a summons to the court--King Robert's brother, the Emperor of
Rome, sent word for King Robert and all of his court to visit him at
Easter-time, and great preparations were made for the journey. When the
train was ready it formed a beautiful procession. The new king rode at
its head, in his splendor, and all the beautiful ladies and the brave
knights came riding behind in their gorgeous robes. At the last of this
splendid train rode King Robert on a queer old mule. He had on the cap
and bells, and behind him sat the ugly ape, and, as they passed along
the street, the boys laughed and jeered; but King Robert said to
himself: "They will not laugh long," because his heart was glad now, for
they were going to Rome, where his own brother ruled, and now surely he
would be restored to his rights, for his brother would see and know that
the new king was an impostor. Thus the splendid train rode to Rome, and
the emperor was there to meet them.
When the emperor saw the strange king he went to him and embraced him
and called him "brother." At this, King Robert rushed forward and cried
out: "I am the king, thy brother. This man is an impostor. Do you not
know me? I am the king." But the emperor only looked at him strangely,
and, turning to the strange king, he said: "Why do you keep this madman
at your court?" The new king only smiled, and made no answer.
The visit ended, and again the splendid train passed back to Sicily, and
King Robert still rode behind. His heart was very sad, because he
thought: "If my own brother knows me not, what hope can there be?"
When the new king came back to Sicily he changed many of the cruel laws,
and the whole land was made glad and happy, as it had never been before.
King Robert noticed the change and wondered at it.
It was Easter-time again, and King Robert said in his heart, "I will go
to church again this morning." Behind all the procession he rode, as
usual, and took his seat in the back of the church, so that no one might
see him. Everything was beautiful at this Easter-time. The church, the
flowers, the music, all bore the Easter message. When the music began it
crept into King Robert's heart, and as he listened the tears rolled down
his cheek, and he bowed his head in prayer. The first words that he
heard were the old, familiar ones: "The Lord can exalt the humble and
bring down the proud and mighty from their seats." As poor King Robert
listened he humbly bowed his head and said: "Ah, surely that is true;
the Lord in heaven is mightiest of all. He is the king."
When the king and his court had reached home again that day, the new
king called King Robert immediately to his throne room, and upon his
face there seemed to be a glorious light shining forth, and, looking at
King Robert with a wondrous smile, he asked the old, old question: "Art
thou the king?" But King Robert only bowed his head and said: "I know
not who I am. I only know that I am the most humble and most unworthy of
all men to be the king." To these words the new king replied: "Thou art
indeed the king, and I--I am an angel sent from Heaven to help thee for
a little while."
When King Robert raised his head, behold! he was alone. The angel had
gone. He again had on his own robes, his own crown, and was bearing his
own scepter.
That day, when the courtiers came to wait upon the king, they found him
kneeling beside his throne in prayer.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow [Adapted]
THE GREAT STONE FACE
One afternoon, when the sun was going down, a mother and her little boy
sat at the door of their cottage talking together and watching the great
mountains before them, as they changed with the tints of the setting
sun, from gold to crimson, and then to deep purple, till finally the
afterglow was gone, leaving only the bare mountains standing out in gray
relief against the evening sky.
"Mother," said the child, whose name was Ernest, "the Great Stone Face
is smiling at us. I wish it could speak, for it looks so very kind that
I know its voice is pleasant."
And what was the Great Stone Face?
Off in the distance one great mountain rose far up above the others, and
stood like a great giant among its fellows. By some peculiar art the
rocks had been thrown together in such a way as to make the mountain
look almost exactly like a human face. There was the broad arch of the
forehead, a hundred feet in length; the nose, with its long bridge, and
the great lips, which, if they could have spoken, would surely have
rolled thunder from one end of the valley to the other.
It was a happy lot for children to grow up to manhood or womanhood with
the Great Stone Face before their eyes, because all of its features were
noble, so that just to look at it made one wish to be better.
This, then, was what Ernest and his mother sat looking at long after the
sun had sunk behind those great piles of stones.
"Mother," said Ernest, "if I were to see a man with such a face I know I
should love him."
"If an old prophecy comes true," answered his mother, "we may see a man
some time or other with exactly such a face as that."
"Oh, tell me about it, mother. Will it really come true?" eagerly
inquired Ernest.
Then his mother told him a story which her mother had told to her when
she was a child. No one knew who had heard it first. The Indians had
known it years before, and they said it had been murmured by the
mountain streams and whispered by the wind among the treetops. And the
story was this: At some future day--no one knew when--a child would be
born in the valley who would grow up to be the noblest and greatest man
of his time, and his face would look exactly like the Great Stone Face
which had gazed kindly down on the valley for so many years. Many of the
people in the valley said this was only a foolish tale, never to come to
pass, but a few still watched and waited, hoping for the great man to
come, but as yet he had not appeared.
When Ernest heard the story he clapped his hands, and said eagerly: "Oh,
mother, dear mother, I do hope I shall live to see him."
The mother smiled, and, putting her hand on the boy's head, said:
"Perhaps you may."
Ernest never forgot the story his mother told him. It was always in his
mind whenever he looked upon the Great Stone Face. He spent his boyhood
days in the humble little cottage, helping his mother with the simple
household duties, and, as he grew older, working in the fields to earn
their daily bread.
Ernest was a quiet boy, but happy. There was no school in the little
village, but a great teacher was there. After the day's toil was over
Ernest would sit for hours watching the Great Stone Face, and to him it
became the teacher of all that was good and noble. Many times, as the
sunset rays tinted the side of the great mountain and lighted up all the
features of the wonderful face, Ernest would imagine that it smiled on
him, and perhaps it did. Who knows?
Often a great longing would come to Ernest as he watched the Great Face,
and he would say again, "Oh, I wish the great man would come."
But the years passed by, and Ernest grew from a happy little child to a
quiet, thoughtful boy, and still the great man did not appear.
But one time a rumor went through all the valley that the great man had
at last arrived. His early home had been in the quiet valley, but as a
young man he had gone into the world to seek his fortune, and truly he
had found it, for everything he attempted prospered exceedingly, till it
might be said of him, as of Midas in the fable, that whatever his
fingers touched changed at once to piles of gold. His name was Mr.
Gathergold. All who saw him declared him to be the exact image of the
Great Stone Face on the mountain side, and the man so long expected to
fulfill the prophecy.
The whole valley was in a state of great excitement, for the wonderful
personage was coming back to his native home to spend his last days in
peace and quiet. He sent before him a whole army of architects and
workmen, who built for him a palace more beautiful and grand than
anything the simple village people had ever before seen.
The outside was of pure marble, dazzling white, while the interior was
inlaid with solid gold and precious stones.
Ernest watched the great palace grow, and his heart was glad, for
finally his hopes were to come true. He waited eagerly for the great man
himself to come. He spent more time than usual gazing at the face on the
mountain side, that he might know exactly how Mr. Gathergold would look.
Finally the day of the great man's arrival came. The whole village came
out to see him. The rumbling of wheels was heard, and a carriage drawn
by four horses dashed down the road.
"Here he comes!" cried the people. "Here comes the great Mr.
Gathergold!"
As the carriage drew near the people pressed around, and there through
the window they saw the great man. He was little and old, with a face as
hard and yellow as the piles of gold he had gathered together. He had a
low forehead, small, sharp eyes, puckered about with many wrinkles, and
very sharp lips.
"The very image of the Great Stone Face!" shouted the people. "Sure
enough, the old prophecy is true, and here we have the great man come at
last."
By the roadside there chanced to be a poor woman and her two children,
who, as the carriage passed, held out their hands and asked for help. A
hand was thrust out of the window, and a few pennies were thrown on the
ground. Then the carriage rolled on, and the people continued to shout,
"He is the very image of the Great Stone Face."
But Ernest stood apart from the crowd, nor did he join in the shout, for
his heart was full of sorrow and disappointment. Through an opening in
the trees he saw the Great Stone Face looking benignly down upon him,
and the great lips seemed to say: "He will come. Fear not, Ernest. The
man will come."
The years went on, and Ernest ceased to be a boy. He had grown to be a
young man now. He was not much noticed in the valley, for he was still
quiet and modest. They saw nothing remarkable about his way of living,
save that when the work of the day was done he loved to go apart and
gaze upon the Great Stone Face.
They knew not that it had become his greatest teacher, filling his heart
and mind with thoughts and hopes far above earthly things.
By this time poor old Mr. Gathergold was dead and buried, and the
strange part about the matter was that when his wealth left him, as it
did some time before he died, and he became a poor old man, the people
seemed to forget that there ever had been a resemblance to the Great
Stone Face. Indeed, they said it was all a mistake, and the great man
was yet to come.
Suddenly through the valley there ran another rumor. Years before a
young man had left the valley, had gone into the world as a warrior, and
finally had become a great commander. Such had been his character and
life that the illustrious man was called by the name of Old
Blood-and-Thunder. This old general, being worn out with warfare,
decided to return to his native valley and spend his last days in peace.
But the most wonderful thing about Old Blood-and-Thunder was the fact
that all who knew him said that he was the man so long hoped for in the
valley, for he looked exactly like the Great Stone Face.
Great preparations, therefore, were made to receive the General--a
banquet was to be given and speeches made in his honor. On the day of
the festival Ernest, with all the others of the village, left their work
and went to the woods, where the banquet was held. A great crowd
surrounded the tables, so that Ernest at first could not see the great
man for whom he had waited and hoped so long, so he contented himself
with looking at the great face on the mountain side, which he could see
plainly through the trees. Meanwhile he could hear those around him
talking about Old Blood-and-Thunder and the Great Stone Face.
"'Tis the same face, to a hair," cried one man, clapping his hands for
joy.
"Wonderfully like, that's a fact," said another.
"Like! Why, I call it Old Blood-and-Thunder himself, in a monstrous
looking-glass," cried a third.
Just then a silence fell on the crowd, for the General rose to speak,
and as he did so Ernest for the first time saw the hero. There he stood,
head and shoulders above the crowd, with the golden epaulets glittering
on his uniform. Long and eagerly Ernest gazed on his face, and then
beyond, to the one on the mountain side. Were they, indeed, alike?
Ernest saw in the warrior's face only cruelty and hardness, with none of
the tender sympathy he knew so well in the other face.
"This is not the man," sighed Ernest, as he turned sadly away. "Must we
wait longer yet?"
But as the great mountain rose before him, once again the lips seemed to
say: "Fear not, Ernest; fear not. He will come."
The years sped swiftly by. Ernest still lived in the valley, a quiet and
gentle man, doing his work as best he knew. But gradually the people of
the village had come to know and feel that Ernest knew more than they.
Not a day passed by that the world was not better because this man,
humble as he was, had lived. He would always help a neighbor in need,
and the people had learned to know where to come for aid. His thoughts
were of things good and noble, and so his deeds and words were always
good.