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diff --git a/old/54825-0.txt b/old/54825-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index cd024d1..0000000 --- a/old/54825-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,30194 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Junior High School Literature, Book 1, by -William H. Elson and Christine M. Keck - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Junior High School Literature, Book 1 - -Author: William H. Elson - Christine M. Keck - -Release Date: June 1, 2017 [EBook #54825] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL *** - - - - -Produced by Juliet Sutherland and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - - JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL - LITERATURE - - BOOK ONE - - BY - - WILLIAM H. ELSON - AUTHOR ELSON READERS AND GOOD ENGLISH SERIES - - AND - - CHRISTINE M. KECK - HEAD UNION JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL ENGLISH, GRAND RAPIDS, MICHIGAN - - SCOTT, FORESMAN AND COMPANY - CHICAGO ATLANTA NEW YORK - - COPYRIGHT 1919 - BY SCOTT, FORESMAN AND COMPANY - - For permission to use copyrighted material grateful acknowledgment - is made to _The London Times_ for “The Guards Came Through” by Sir - Arthur Conan Doyle; to Thomas Hardy for “Men Who March Away” from - _The London Times_; to John Galsworthy for “England to Free Men” from - _The Westminster Gazette_; to John Masefield for “Spanish Waters”; - to Hamlin Garland for “The Great Blizzard” from _Boy Life on the - Prairie_; to Doubleday Page & Co. for “The Gift of the Magi” by O. - Henry; to G. P. Putnam’s Sons for “Old Ephraim, the Grizzly Bear,” - from _The Wilderness Hunter_ by Theodore Roosevelt; to the George - H. Doran Company for “Trees” from _Trees and Other Poems_ by Joyce - Kilmer; to Mr. R. W. Lillard for “America’s Answer” from _The New - York Evening Post_; to Horace Traubel for “Pioneers! O Pioneers!”, “I - Hear America Singing”, “O Captain! My Captain!” by Walt Whitman; to - Charles Scribner’s Sons for “On a Florida River” by Sidney Lanier, - from _The Lanier Book_, copyright 1904; and to Frederick A. Stokes - Company for “Kilmeny—A Song of the Trawlers” by Alfred Noyes from - _The New Morning_, copyright 1919. - - ROBERT O. LAW COMPANY - EDITION BOOK MANUFACTURERS - CHICAGO, U. S. A. - - - - -PREFACE - - -The Junior High School offers exceptional opportunity for relating -literature to life. In addition to the aesthetic and ethical purposes, -long recognized in the study of literature, the World War emphasized -the need for an extension of aims to include the teaching of certain -fundamental American ideals. To marshal the available material, setting -it to work in the service of social and civic ideals, is to give to -literature the “central place in a new humanism.” When we organize -reading in the schools with reference to the teaching of ideals—personal, -social, national, and patriotic—we “put the stress on literature as one -of the chief means through which the child enters on his intellectual and -spiritual inheritance.” Outstanding among these ideals are: freedom, love -of home and country, service, loyalty, courage, thrift, humane treatment -of animals, a sense of humor, love of Nature, and an appreciation of the -dignity of honest work. In a word, to provide a course in the history and -development of civilization, particularly stressing America’s part in it, -is the present-day demand on the school. - -The Junior High School Literature Series, of which the present volume -is intended for use in the first year, provides such a course. The -literature brought together in this book is organized with reference -to the social ideal. Nature in its varied relations to human life, -particularly child life, is presented in stories and poems of animals, -birds, flowers, trees, and winter, all abounding in beauty and charm. -Interest in Nature leads to interest in the deeds of men filled with the -spirit of adventure. The heroism of brave men and women from the age of -chivalry to the days of self-sacrifice on Flanders Fields is told in -ballad and romance, thus stimulating qualities of courage, loyalty, and -devotion. Akin to these are the deeds of men who won freedom for their -fellows and gave meaning to the words, “our inheritance of freedom.” -Their heroism is told in story and song, from the time of the Great -Charter and Robert the Bruce to the Declaration of Independence and -the recent treaty of Versailles. The whole culminates in the literature -and life in the homeland, interpreting America’s part in these great -enterprises of the human spirit. Through legend and history the spirit -and thoughts of our developing nation are portrayed in a literature of -compelling interest, distinctively American. - -This book supplies material in such generous quantity as to provide in -one volume a complete one-year course of literature. There is material -suited to all the purposes that a collection of literature for this grade -should supply: reading for the story element, silent reading, reading -for expression, intensive reading, memorizing, dramatization, public -reading and recitation, plot study, etc. Moreover, the book offers a -wide variety of literature, representing various types: ballads, lyrics, -short stories, tales, biographies, and the rest. The selections comprise -not only those that have stood the test of time, but also some of the -choicest treasures of the modern creative period. They are given in -complete units, not mere excerpts or garbled “cross-sections.” - -The helps to study are more than mere notes; they take into account -the larger purposes of the literature. Especially illuminating are the -selection “The Three Joys of Reading,” pages 9-14, and the Introductions -to Parts II, III, and IV; these should be read by pupils before beginning -the study of the selections in the several groups, for they interpret and -give greater significance to the units. The biographical and historical -notes provide helpful data for interpreting the stories and poems. A -comprehensive glossary, pages 592-626, contains the words and phrases of -the text that offer valuable vocabulary training, either of pronunciation -or meaning. An additional feature that will appeal to many teachers is -the list of common words frequently mispronounced given in connection -with the helps to study. See pages 14, 26, etc. - - The Authors. - - - - -TABLE OF CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - PREFACE iii - - THE THREE JOYS OF READING ix - - PART I - - STORIES AND POEMS OF NATURE - - ANIMALS - - THE BUFFALO _Francis Parkman_ 1 - - OLD EPHRAIM, THE GRIZZLY BEAR _Theodore Roosevelt_ 15 - - MOTI GUJ—MUTINEER _Rudyard Kipling_ 27 - - THE ELEPHANTS THAT STRUCK _Samuel White Baker_ 35 - - BIRDS - - ROBERT OF LINCOLN _William Cullen Bryant_ 39 - - THE MARYLAND YELLOW-THROAT _Henry van Dyke_ 43 - - THE BELFRY PIGEON _Nathaniel Parker Willis_ 45 - - THE SANDPIPER _Celia Thaxter_ 47 - - THE THROSTLE _Alfred, Lord Tennyson_ 49 - - TO THE CUCKOO _William Wordsworth_ 50 - - THE BIRDS’ ORCHESTRA _Celia Thaxter_ 52 - - FLOWERS AND TREES - - TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN _William Cullen Bryant_ 53 - - VIOLET! SWEET VIOLET! _James Russell Lowell_ 54 - - TO THE DANDELION _James Russell Lowell_ 56 - - THE DAFFODILS _William Wordsworth_ 59 - - THE TRAILING ARBUTUS _John Greenleaf Whittier_ 60 - - TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY _Robert Burns_ 61 - - SWEET PEAS _John Keats_ 63 - - CHORUS OF FLOWERS _Leigh Hunt_ 64 - - TREES _Joyce Kilmer_ 68 - - WINTER - - THE GREAT BLIZZARD _Hamlin Garland_ 69 - - THE FROST _Hannah F. Gould_ 75 - - THE FROST SPIRIT _John Greenleaf Whittier_ 76 - - THE SNOW STORM _Ralph Waldo Emerson_ 78 - - SNOWFLAKES _Henry W. Longfellow_ 80 - - MIDWINTER _John T. Trowbridge_ 82 - - BLOW, BLOW, THOU WINTER WIND _William Shakespeare_ 84 - - WHEN ICICLES HANG BY THE WALL _William Shakespeare_ 85 - - PART II - - ADVENTURES OLD AND NEW - - INTRODUCTION 89 - - THE DAYS OF CHIVALRY - - KING ARTHUR STORIES Adapted from _Sir Thomas Malory_ - - THE COMING OF ARTHUR 91 - - THE STORY OF GARETH 105 - - THE PEERLESS KNIGHT LANCELOT 126 - - THE PASSING OF ARTHUR 149 - - NARRATIVES IN VERSE - - SIR PATRICK SPENS _Folk Ballad_ 168 - - THE SKELETON IN ARMOR _Henry W. Longfellow_ 171 - - THE THREE FISHERS _Charles Kingsley_ 177 - - LORD ULLIN’S DAUGHTER _Thomas Campbell_ 178 - - THE PIPES AT LUCKNOW _John Greenleaf Whittier_ 181 - - SPANISH WATERS _John Masefield_ 184 - - KILMENY—A SONG OF THE TRAWLERS _Alfred Noyes_ 186 - - THE GUARDS CAME THROUGH _Sir Arthur Conan Doyle_ 188 - - STORIES OF THE SEA - - A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTROM _Edgar Allan Poe_ 191 - - THE WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY _Charles Dickens_ 210 - - TALES FROM SHAKESPEARE - - AS YOU LIKE IT _Charles and Mary Lamb_ 259 - - THE TEMPEST _Charles and Mary Lamb_ 275 - - PART III - - IDEALS AND HEROES OF FREEDOM - - INTRODUCTION 289 - - SCOTLAND’S STRUGGLE FOR INDEPENDENCE - - TALES OF A GRANDFATHER _Sir Walter Scott_ 293 - - THE STORY OF SIR WILLIAM WALLACE 293 - - ROBERT THE BRUCE 301 - - THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURN 311 - - EXPLOITS OF DOUGLAS AND RANDOLPH 318 - - THE PARTING OF MARMION AND DOUGLAS _Sir Walter Scott_ 325 - - BRUCE’S ADDRESS AT BANNOCKBURN _Robert Burns_ 328 - - ENGLAND AND FREEDOM - - THE LAST FIGHT OF THE REVENGE _Sir Walter Raleigh_ 330 - - YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND _Thomas Campbell_ 336 - - ENGLAND AND AMERICA NATURAL ALLIES _John Richard Green_ 338 - - ENGLAND AND AMERICA IN 1782 _Alfred, Lord Tennyson_ 340 - - ENGLAND TO FREE MEN _John Galsworthy_ 341 - - MEN WHO MARCH AWAY _Thomas Hardy_ 343 - - EARLY AMERICAN SPIRIT OF FREEDOM - - GRANDFATHER’S CHAIR _Nathaniel Hawthorne_ 345 - - HOW NEW ENGLAND WAS GOVERNED 345 - - THE PINE-TREE SHILLINGS 349 - - THE STAMP ACT 354 - - BRITISH SOLDIERS STATIONED IN BOSTON 359 - - THE BOSTON MASSACRE 364 - - SOME FAMOUS PORTRAITS 370 - - THE GRAY CHAMPION _Nathaniel Hawthorne_ 376 - - WARREN’S ADDRESS AT BUNKER HILL _John Pierpont_ 385 - - LIBERTY OR DEATH _Patrick Henry_ 386 - - GEORGE WASHINGTON TO HIS WIFE 390 - - GEORGE WASHINGTON TO GOVERNOR CLINTON 393 - - SONG OF MARION’S MEN _William Cullen Bryant_ 395 - - TIMES THAT TRY MEN’S SOULS _Thomas Paine_ 397 - - PART IV - - LITERATURE AND LIFE IN THE HOMELAND - - INTRODUCTION 403 - - EARLY AMERICA - - THE CHARACTER OF COLUMBUS _Archbishop Corrigan_ 405 - - THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS _Felicia Hemans_ 407 - - PHILIP OF POKANOKET _Washington Irving_ 409 - - THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH _Henry W. Longfellow_ 427 - - AMERICAN SCENES AND LEGENDS - - MY VISIT TO NIAGARA _Nathaniel Hawthorne_ 466 - - ON A FLORIDA RIVER _Sidney Lanier_ 473 - - I SIGH FOR THE LAND OF THE CYPRESS _Samuel Henry Dickson_ 477 - - THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW _Washington Irving_ 479 - - THE GREAT STONE FACE _Nathaniel Hawthorne_ 510 - - AMERICAN LITERATURE OF LIGHTER VEIN - - THE CELEBRATED JUMPING FROG _Mark Twain_ 531 - - THE HEIGHT OF THE RIDICULOUS _Oliver Wendell Holmes_ 538 - - THE GIFT OF THE MAGI _O. Henry_ 541 - - THE RENOWNED WOUTER VAN TWILLER _Washington Irving_ 547 - - AMERICAN WORKERS AND THEIR WORK - - MAKERS OF THE FLAG _Franklin K. Lane_ 553 - - I HEAR AMERICA SINGING _Walt Whitman_ 556 - - PIONEERS! O PIONEERS! _Walt Whitman_ 557 - - THE BEANFIELD _Henry David Thoreau_ 559 - - SHIP-BUILDERS _John Greenleaf Whittier_ 562 - - THE BUILDERS _Henry W. Longfellow_ 566 - - LOVE OF COUNTRY - - THE FLOWER OF LIBERTY _Oliver Wendell Holmes_ 568 - - OLD IRONSIDES _Oliver Wendell Holmes_ 570 - - THE AMERICAN FLAG _Henry Ward Beecher_ 572 - - THE AMERICAN FLAG _Joseph Rodman Drake_ 574 - - THE FLAG GOES BY _Henry H. Bennett_ 577 - - THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER _Francis Scott Key_ 578 - - CITIZENSHIP _William Pierce Frye_ 580 - - THE CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON _Thomas Jefferson_ 583 - - THE TWENTY-SECOND OF FEBRUARY _William Cullen Bryant_ 586 - - ABRAHAM LINCOLN _Richard H. Stoddard_ 587 - - O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! _Walt Whitman_ 588 - - IN FLANDERS FIELDS _John D. McCrae_ 590 - - AMERICA’S ANSWER _R. W. Lillard_ 591 - - GLOSSARY 592 - - THE LITERATURE SERIES - _for the Junior High School_ - - The complete series includes: - - Book One, for the first year. - Book Two, for the second year. - Book Three, for the third year. - - - - -THE THREE JOYS OF READING - - -The picture on this page is called “A Reading from Homer.” Study each of -the people who form the group. Judging from their dress and appearance, -do you think they are people of the present time or of the ancient world? -From what sort of book is the poet reading? Should you think such “books” -could be owned by all sorts of people, or only by a few? Study the -reader’s expression. What sort of story do you think he is reading? Can -you decide anything about the listeners, who they are and what they are -thinking about? Who is most deeply interested in the story, and why? - -[Illustration: A READING FROM HOMER] - -Men do brave deeds on the sea, in far-off lands, or in war, and these -deeds are the subject of song and story. Youths who are looking forward -to heroic careers, and men and women to whom life has brought few -thrilling experiences, like to hear these tales. A well-told story opens -the door to a new pleasure in living. An animal knows only the present. -He is hungry, or tired, or his life is in danger, or he is well fed and -sleepy. But boys and girls, and grown-ups, too, have not only their -daily experience to draw upon, but through books and magazines and papers -they can enter into the experience of others, so that they may live many -lives in one. - -Aladdin had a wonderful lamp. By rubbing it he could be anywhere he -chose or could possess anything he desired. Such a lamp the reader of -good books possesses. You come in from work or play, curl yourself up -in a big chair before the fire, open your book, and in a twinkling you -are whisked away to a new world. Your body is there, curled up before -the fire, but enchantment has come upon you. In imagination you are with -Sindbad the Sailor, or with Robinson Crusoe, or with King Arthur, or you -are in the Indian Jungle, or on a ship sailing the South Seas, or you -are hunting for Treasure Island. And you have it in your power to take -these wonderful trips instantly; no railway tickets are required, no long -delays. You may go on a journey to the other side of the world or into -the South Polar ice or out on a western ranch. What is more wonderful, -you may go back a century, or ten centuries; through this Aladdin’s lamp -of reading you are master not only of space, but also of time. Thus the -first joy of reading is the privilege of taking part in the experiences -of men of every time and every portion of the world. You multiply your -life, and the product is richness and joy. - -The second joy of reading is even greater. Not only the world of -adventure is open to you by means of books, but also a life enriched by -the wisdom that has been gathered from a thousand poets and historians as -bees gather honey from a thousand flowers. There is a story of a great -Italian of the sixteenth century who found himself in the prime of life -without a position, without money, and even compelled to become an exile -because of a revolution. He retired to a farm remote from all the scenes -in which his previous life had been passed. All day he worked hard, for -only by hard work could he live. But in the evenings, when work was done, -when horses and oxen and the laborers who had toiled with them all the -day had gone to sleep, this man put on the splendid court dress he had -worn in the days of his prosperity, days when he had associated with -princes and the great ones of the earth, and so garbed he went into his -library and shut the door. And then, he tells us, for four hours he lived -amid the scenes that his books called up before him. He found in books -an Aladdin’s lamp that transported him to past times, that revealed the -secrets of nature, that showed him what men had accomplished. Through -history, he re-created the past. He could call on the wisest of men for -counsel, and he forgot during these hours his weariness and pain. - -This story of the great Italian has been paralleled many times. There was -once a boy in a frontier cabin who had no such experience as this man -passed through centuries ago, but who was eager to know all that could -be learned about life. His days were long and hard, but he was dreaming -of things to come. At night by the light of the pine logs blazing in the -fireplace, this boy read and studied. Books were hard to get; sometimes -he tramped for miles to borrow one that he had heard a distant farmer -possessed. Thus Lincoln found the second of the joys of reading, the -stored-up wisdom of the race that he appropriated against the day when he -was to be not merely a student of history but a maker of history as well. - -[Illustration: THE SONG OF THE LARK] - -The third joy of reading is that through books our eyes are opened to -the beauty of the world in which we live. There is a famous painting -called “The Song of the Lark.” A peasant girl is on her way to work in -the fields, sickle in hand, in early morning. She has stopped to listen -to the flood of melody that pours from the sky above her, and is trying -in vain to see the bird which is singing the glorious song. Her dull, -unexpressive face is lighted up for the moment in the presence of a -beauty that she feels but does not comprehend. So the painter interprets -for us the effect of beauty upon even a dull intelligence. But the poet -translates the song into beautiful language, and we read and are happy. - -Thousands of people pass unthinkingly by a field filled with the common -daisies. They know the name of the flower; they may even say, or think, -that the flowers make a pretty sight. But a poor young poet plows one up -on his farm and tells us of his sympathy for the little flower he has -destroyed; tells us, too, how the fate of the daisy suggests to him his -own fate, so that all who read the poem by Robert Burns no longer see in -the daisy a common flower, but see instead a symbol of beauty. - -Bird-song and flower, the west wind as it drives the dead leaves before -it or hurries the clouds across the sky or piles up in great masses the -waters of the sea; the mountain that rises stark and stern above the -plain, the ocean over which men’s ships pass in safety or into whose -depths they plunge to their grave—all these things the poet helps us to -see and to feel. So once more our Aladdin’s lamp brings us into scenes -of enchantment, multiplies our lives, opens our eyes to things that the -fairy-folk know right well, but which are forbidden to mortal eye and ear -until the spell has worked its will. - -These, then, are the three joys of reading: First, to be able to travel -at will in any country and in any period of time and to taste the salt -of adventure; to hear the great stories that the human race has garnered -through centuries of living; to know earth’s heroes and to become a part -of the company that surrounds them. Second, to enter into the inheritance -of wisdom that has come down from ancient times or that animates those -who are the builders of our present world. “Histories make men wise,” -said one of the wisest of men, by which he meant that history records -the experience of men in their attempts to make the world a place where -people may dwell together in safety, and that as men reflect on this -experience they become wiser. And poets and prose writers, too, have -told in books what they have thought to be the meaning of life. They are -like the wise old hermits, dwelling in little cabins by the edge of the -enchanted forest, who told Sir Galahad or Sir Gawain or Sir Lancelot -about the perils of the forest and how to win their way to the enchanted -castle where dwelt the Queen. - -And the third joy of reading is that which brings us knowledge of this -enchanted world. For it _is_ a world of wonder in which we live as truly -as that fairy world which so delighted you when Mother told you stories -or when you read your fairy books. The journey of Captain Scott in search -of the South Pole was as thrilling as the voyage of Sinbad. Those brave -men who made the first flight in an airplane across the ocean the other -day were as venturesome as Columbus, and their journey was as wonderful -as that journey in 1492. But Captain Scott did not leave his comfortable -and safe life at home merely to seek adventure. It was an expedition -planned in order that he might bring back exact information about parts -of the earth where men had never been before. And the flight across the -Atlantic was just one more step in the development of a new form of -transportation. So science contributes in many ways to our happiness and -safety. What men do to develop the resources of the earth, what they do -to conquer disease, the inventions and discoveries that give us greater -power than if we possessed the open sesame of our fairy stories—these -also you learn about in your reading. - -The book to which you are here introduced is planned in such a way as -to help you find these three joys of reading. It is a big generous -book, filled with good things. It is an Aladdin’s lamp. Take it to your -favorite big chair or to your favorite corner and test it. Do you wish to -get into the Enchanted Forest? The very first selections, about animals -and birds and growing things, take you there where you will find friends -old and new. Do you wish to go on a long journey back to King Arthur’s -time and meet the knights of the Round Table? The power is yours for the -asking. Or if you prefer songs and stories of the sea, here is a ballad -that has been sung for centuries, or you may have ballads about battles -in the war that ended the other day. And no one knew the secrets of the -Enchanted Forest better than William Shakespeare—here are two stories -that he loved. - -At some other time your book will take you back to the days of Wallace -and Bruce, or will bring before you some of the things England has -done for Freedom, or will show you what Americans of the old time did -and thought when they were building their free land for you to dwell -in and to protect. And, last of all, there are stories of life in our -America—old legends and stories that will make you smile, and stories of -workers and their work. When you have finished the last section you will -be happier and a better citizen, ready to do your share every chance you -get. - -One word more. You know that, in order to work enchantment, people have -had to do certain things. There was the fern-seed, you know, or the charm -like “open sesame,” or you have to rub the wonderful lamp. Now to use -this book rightly, you must not think of it as a lesson book, containing -tasks. If you do that, it will be no Aladdin’s lamp at all but just a -dull old smoky lamp that would not even guide you to the cellar. You must -do these things: First, get that chair or that corner and make yourself -comfortable. Second, _look at the program_. What is that? Why, the “Table -of Contents,” of course. You must know where you are going and what you -are to see. In this book everything is arranged in such a way as to help -the charm to work. Third, you will find little questions and studies -every now and then, and a glossary, guide-posts so that you will not lose -your way. And, last of all, you are to try to see the book as a whole and -not as a sort of scrapbook about all sorts of things. For it all deals, -in one way or another, with the Enchanted Forest and the Castle of Life. - - - - -PART I - -STORIES AND POEMS OF NATURE - - _“Go forth, under the open sky, and list_ - _To Nature’s teachings.”_ - - —William Cullen Bryant. - -[Illustration: From a Thistle Print, Copyright Detroit Publishing Co. - -AUTUMN WOODS—PAINTING BY GEORGE INNESS] - - - - -ANIMALS - -[Illustration] - - -THE BUFFALO - -FRANCIS PARKMAN - - -BRINGING HOME THE MEAT - -Four days on the Platte, and yet no buffalo! The wagons one morning had -left the camp; Shaw and I were already on horseback, but Henry Chatillon -still sat cross-legged by the dead embers of the fire, playing pensively -with the lock of his rifle, while his sturdy Wyandot pony stood quietly -behind him, looking over his head. At last he got up, patted the neck of -the pony (whom, from an exaggerated appreciation of his merits, he had -christened “Five Hundred Dollar”), and then mounted with a melancholy air. - -“What is it, Henry?” - -“Ah, I feel lonesome; I never been here before; but I see away yonder -over the buttes, and down there on the prairie, black—all black with -buffalo!” - -In the afternoon he and I left the party in search of an antelope; until, -at the distance of a mile or two on the right, the tall white wagons -and the little black specks of horsemen were just visible, so slowly -advancing that they seemed motionless; and far on the left rose the -broken line of scorched, desolate sand-hills. The vast plain waved with -tall rank grass that swept our horses’ bellies; it swayed to and fro in -billows with the light breeze, and far and near, antelope and wolves were -moving through it, the hairy backs of the latter alternately appearing -and disappearing as they bounded awkwardly along; while the antelope, -with the simple curiosity peculiar to them, would often approach us -closely, their little horns and white throats just visible above the -grass tops as they gazed eagerly at us with their round, black eyes. - -I dismounted, and amused myself with firing at the wolves. Henry -attentively scrutinized the surrounding landscape; at length he gave -a shout, and called on me to mount again, pointing in the direction -of the sand-hills. A mile and a half from us, two minute black specks -slowly traversed the face of one of the bare, glaring declivities, and -disappeared behind the summit. “Let us go!” cried Henry, belaboring the -sides of Five Hundred Dollar; and I following in his wake, we galloped -rapidly through the rank grass toward the base of the hills. - -From one of their openings descended a deep ravine, widening as it -issued on the prairie. We entered it, and galloping up, in a moment were -surrounded by the bleak sand-hills. Half of their steep sides were bare; -the rest were scantily clothed with clumps of grass and various uncouth -plants, conspicuous among which appeared the reptile-like prickly-pear. -They were gashed with numberless ravines; and as the sky had suddenly -darkened and a cold gusty wind arisen, the strange shrubs and the -dreary hills looked doubly wild and desolate. But Henry’s face was all -eagerness. He tore off a little hair from the piece of buffalo robe -under his saddle, and threw it up, to show the course of the wind. It -blew directly before us. The game were therefore to windward, and it was -necessary to make our best speed to get round them. - -We scrambled from this ravine, and galloping away through the hollows, -soon found another, winding like a snake among the hills, and so deep -that it completely concealed us. We rode up the bottom of it, glancing -through the shrubbery at its edge, till Henry abruptly jerked his rein -and slid out of his saddle. Full a quarter of a mile distant, on the -outline of the farthest hill, a long procession of buffalo were walking, -in Indian file, with the utmost gravity and deliberation; then more -appeared, clambering from a hollow not far off, and ascending, one behind -the other, the grassy slope of another hill; then a shaggy head and a -pair of short, broken horns appeared, issuing out of a ravine close at -hand, and with a slow, stately step, one by one, the enormous brutes came -into view, taking their way across the valley, wholly unconscious of an -enemy. In a moment Henry was worming his way, lying flat on the ground, -through grass and prickly-pears, toward his unsuspecting victims. He -had with him both my rifle and his own. He was soon out of sight, and -still the buffalo kept issuing into the valley. For a long time all was -silent; I sat holding his horse, and wondering what he was about, when -suddenly, in rapid succession, came the sharp reports of the two rifles, -and the whole line of buffalo, quickening their pace into a clumsy trot, -gradually disappeared over the ridge of the hill. Henry rose to his feet, -and stood looking after them. - -“You have missed them,” said I. - -“Yes,” said Henry; “let us go.” He descended into the ravine, loaded the -rifles, and mounted his horse. - -We rode up the hill after the buffalo. The herd was out of sight when -we reached the top, but lying on the grass not far off was one quite -lifeless, and another violently struggling in the death agony. - -“You see I miss him!” remarked Henry. He had fired from a distance of -more than a hundred and fifty yards, and both balls had passed through -the lungs—the true mark in shooting buffalo. - -The darkness increased, and a driving storm came on. Tying our -horses to the horns of the victims, Henry began the bloody work of -dissection, slashing away with the science of a connoisseur, while I -vainly endeavored to imitate him. Old Hendrick recoiled with horror and -indignation when I endeavored to tie the meat to the strings of rawhide, -always carried for this purpose, dangling at the back of the saddle. -After some difficulty we overcame his scruples; and heavily burdened with -the more eligible portions of the buffalo, we set out on our return. -Scarcely had we emerged from the labyrinth of gorges and ravines, and -issued upon the open prairie, when the pricking sleet came driving, gust -upon gust, directly in our faces. It was strangely dark, though wanting -still an hour of sunset. The freezing storm soon penetrated to the skin, -but the uneasy trot of our heavy-gaited horses kept us warm enough, as -we forced them unwillingly in the teeth of the sleet and rain by the -powerful suasion of our Indian whips. The prairie in this place was hard -and level. A flourishing colony of prairie dogs had burrowed into it -in every direction, and the little mounds of fresh earth around their -holes were about as numerous as the hills in a cornfield; but not a yelp -was to be heard; not the nose of a single citizen was visible; all had -retired to the depths of their burrows, and we envied them their dry and -comfortable habitations. An hour’s hard riding showed us our tent dimly -looming through the storm, one side puffed out by the force of the wind, -and the other collapsed in proportion, while the disconsolate horses -stood shivering close around, and the wind kept up a dismal whistling in -the boughs of three old, half-dead trees above. Shaw, like a patriarch, -sat on his saddle in the entrance, with a pipe in his mouth and his arms -folded, contemplating with cool satisfaction the piles of meat that we -flung on the ground before him. A dark and dreary night succeeded; but -the sun rose with a heat so sultry and languid that the captain excused -himself on that account from waylaying an old buffalo bull, who with -stupid gravity was walking over the prairie to drink at the river. So -much for the climate of the Platte! - - -AN UNSUCCESSFUL HUNT - -But it was not the weather alone that had produced this sudden abatement -of the sportsmanlike zeal which the captain had always professed. He had -been out on the afternoon before, together with several members of his -party; but their hunting was attended with no other result than the loss -of one of their best horses, severely injured by Sorel in vainly chasing -a wounded bull. The captain, whose ideas of hard riding were all derived -from transatlantic sources, expressed the utmost amazement at the feats -of Sorel, who went leaping ravines and dashing at full speed up and down -the sides of precipitous hills, lashing his horse with the recklessness -of a Rocky Mountain rider. Unfortunately for the poor animal, he was the -property of R., against whom Sorel entertained an unbounded aversion. The -captain himself, it seemed, had also attempted to “run” a buffalo, but -though a good and practiced horseman, he had soon given over the attempt, -being astonished and utterly disgusted at the nature of the ground he was -required to ride over. - -Nothing unusual occurred on that day; but on the following morning Henry -Chatillon, looking over the ocean-like expanse, saw near the foot of the -distant hills something that looked like a band of buffalo. He was not -sure, he said, but at all events, if they were buffalo there was a fine -chance for a race. Shaw and I at once determined to try the speed of our -horses. - -“Come, captain; we’ll see which can ride hardest, a Yankee or an -Irishman.” - -But the captain maintained a grave and austere countenance. He mounted -his led horse, however, though very slowly, and we set out at a trot. The -game appeared about three miles distant. As we proceeded, the captain -made various remarks of doubt and indecision, and at length declared he -would have nothing to do with such a breakneck business; protesting that -he had ridden plenty of steeple-chases in his day, but he never knew what -riding was till he found himself behind a band of buffalo the day before -yesterday. “I am convinced,” said the captain, “that ‘running’ is out of -the question. Take my advice now and don’t attempt it. It’s dangerous, -and of no use at all.” - -“Then why did you come out with us? What do you mean to do?” - -“I shall ‘approach,’” replied the captain. - -“You don’t mean to ‘approach’ with your pistols, do you? We have all of -us left our rifles in the wagons.” - -The captain seemed staggered at the suggestion. In his characteristic -indecision, at setting out, pistols, rifles, “running,” and “approaching” -were mingled in an inextricable medley in his brain. He trotted on in -silence between us for a while; but at length he dropped behind, and -slowly walked his horse back to rejoin the party. Shaw and I kept on; -when lo! as we advanced, the band of buffalo were transformed into -certain clumps of tall bushes, dotting the prairie for a considerable -distance. At this ludicrous termination of our chase, we followed -the example of our late ally and turned back toward the party. We -were skirting the brink of a deep ravine, when we saw Henry and the -broad-chested pony coming toward us at a gallop. - -“Here’s old Papin and Frederic, down from Fort Laramie!” shouted Henry, -long before he came up. We had for some days expected this encounter. -Papin was the _bourgeois_ of Fort Laramie. He had come down the river -with the buffalo robes and the beaver, the produce of the last winter’s -trading. I had among our baggage a letter which I wished to commit to -their hands; so, requesting Henry to detain the boats if he could until -my return, I set out after the wagons. They were about four miles in -advance. In half an hour I overtook them, got the letter, trotted back -upon the trail, and looking carefully as I rode, saw a patch of broken, -storm-blasted trees, and moving near them some little black specks like -men and horses. Arriving at the place, I found a strange assembly. The -boats, eleven in number, deep-laden with the skins, hugged close to -the shore to escape being borne down by the swift current. The rowers, -swarthy, ignoble Mexicans, turned their brutish faces upward to look as -I reached the bank. Papin sat in the middle of one of the boats upon the -canvas covering that protected the robes. He was a stout, robust fellow, -with a little gray eye that had a peculiarly sly twinkle. “Frederic” -also stretched his tall, rawboned proportions close by the _bourgeois_, -and “mountain-men” completed the group; some lounging in the boats, some -strolling on shore; some attired in gayly painted buffalo robes like -Indian dandies; some with hair saturated with red paint, and beplastered -with glue to their temples; and one bedaubed with vermilion upon his -forehead and each cheek. They were a mongrel race, yet the French blood -seemed to predominate; in a few, indeed, might be seen the black, snaky -eye of the Indian half-breed; and one and all, they seemed to aim at -assimilating themselves to their savage associates. - -I shook hands with the _bourgeois_ and delivered the letter; then the -boats swung around into the stream and floated away. They had reason -for haste, for already the voyage from Fort Laramie had occupied a full -month, and the river was growing daily more shallow. Fifty times a -day the boats had been aground; indeed, those who navigate the Platte -invariably spend half their time upon sand-bars. Two of these boats, -the property of private traders, afterward separating from the rest, -got hopelessly involved in the shallows, not very far from the Pawnee -villages, and were soon surrounded by a swarm of the inhabitants. They -carried off everything that they considered valuable, including most of -the robes; and amused themselves by tying up the men left on guard, and -soundly whipping them with sticks. - -We encamped that night upon the bank of the river. Among the emigrants -there was an overgrown boy, some eighteen years old, with a head as round -and about as large as a pumpkin, and fever-and-ague fits had dyed his -face of a corresponding color. He wore an old white hat, tied under his -chin with a handkerchief; his body was short and stout, but his legs of -disproportioned and appalling length. I observed him at sunset breasting -the hill with gigantic strides, and standing against the sky on the -summit like a colossal pair of tongs. In a moment after, we heard him -screaming frantically behind the ridge, and nothing doubting that he was -in the clutches of Indians or grizzly bears, some of the party caught up -their rifles and ran to the rescue. His outcries, however, proved but an -ebullition of joyous excitement; he had chased two little wolf pups to -their burrow, and he was on his knees, grubbing away like a dog at the -mouth of the hole, to get at them. - -Before morning he caused more serious disquiet in the camp. It was his -turn to hold the middle guard; but no sooner was he called up than he -coolly arranged a pair of saddle-bags under a wagon, laid his head upon -them, closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and fell asleep. The guard on -our side of the camp, thinking it no part of his duty to look after -the cattle of the emigrants, contented himself with watching our own -horses and mules; the wolves, he said, were unusually noisy; but still -no mischief was anticipated, until the sun rose, and not a hoof or horn -was in sight! The cattle were gone! While Tom was quietly slumbering, the -wolves had driven them away. - -Then we reaped the fruits of R.’s precious plan of traveling in company -with emigrants. To leave them in their distress was not to be thought -of, and we felt bound to wait until the cattle could be searched for, -and, if possible, recovered. But the reader may be curious to know -what punishment awaited the faithless Tom. By the wholesome law of -the prairie, he who falls asleep on guard is condemned to walk all -day, leading his horse by the bridle, and we found much fault with -our companions for not enforcing such a sentence on the offender. -Nevertheless, had he been of our own party, I have no doubt he would -in like manner have escaped scot-free. But the emigrants went further -than mere forbearance; they decreed that since Tom couldn’t stand guard -without falling asleep, he shouldn’t stand guard at all, and henceforward -his slumbers were unbroken. Establishing such a premium on drowsiness -could have no very beneficial effect upon the vigilance of our sentinels; -for it is far from agreeable, after riding from sunrise to sunset, to -feel your slumbers interrupted by the butt of a rifle nudging your side, -and a sleepy voice growling in your ear that you must get up, to shiver -and freeze for three weary hours at midnight. - - -LOST ON THE GREAT PLAINS - -“Buffalo! buffalo!” It was but a grim old bull, roaming the prairie by -himself in misanthropic seclusion; but there might be more behind the -hills. Dreading the monotony and languor of the camp, Shaw and I saddled -our horses, buckled our holsters in their places, and set out with Henry -Chatillon in search of the game. Henry, not intending to take part in the -chase, but merely conducting us, carried his rifle with him, while we -left ours behind as incumbrances. We rode for some five or six miles, and -saw no living thing but wolves, snakes, and prairie dogs. - -“This won’t do at all,” said Shaw. - -“What won’t do?” - -“There’s no wood about here to make a litter for the wounded man; I have -an idea that one of us will need something of the sort before the day is -over.” - -There was some foundation for such an apprehension, for the ground was -none of the best for a race, and grew worse continually as we proceeded; -indeed it soon became desperately bad, consisting of abrupt hills and -deep hollows, cut by frequent ravines not easy to pass. At length, a mile -in advance, we saw a band of bulls. Some were scattered grazing over a -green declivity, while the rest were crowded more densely together in -the wide hollow below. Making a circuit to keep out of sight, we rode -toward them until we ascended a hill within a furlong of them, beyond -which nothing intervened that could possibly screen us from their view. -We dismounted behind the ridge just out of sight, drew our saddle-girths, -examined our pistols, and mounting again rode over the hill and descended -at a canter toward them, bending close to our horses’ necks. Instantly -they took the alarm; those on the hill descended; those below gathered -into a mass, and the whole got in motion, shouldering each other along -at a clumsy gallop. We followed, spurring our horses to full speed; and -as the herd rushed, crowding and trampling in terror through an opening -in the hills, we were close at their heels, half suffocated by the -clouds of dust. But as we drew near, their alarm and speed increased; -our horses showed signs of the utmost fear, bounding violently aside as -we approached, and refusing to enter among the herd. The buffalo now -broke into several small bodies, scampering over the hills in different -directions, and I lost sight of Shaw; neither of us knew where the other -had gone. Old Pontiac ran like a frantic elephant up hill and down hill, -his ponderous hoofs striking the prairie like sledge-hammers. He showed -a curious mixture of eagerness and terror, straining to overtake the -panic-stricken herd, but constantly recoiling in dismay as we drew near. -The fugitives, indeed, offered no very attractive spectacle, with their -enormous size and weight, their shaggy manes and the tattered remnants -of their last winter’s hair covering their backs in irregular shreds -and patches, and flying off in the wind as they ran. At length I urged -my horse close behind a bull, and after trying in vain, by blows and -spurring, to bring him alongside, I shot a bullet into the buffalo from -this disadvantageous position. At the report, Pontiac swerved so much -that I was again thrown a little behind the game. The bullet, entering -too much in the rear, failed to disable the bull, for a buffalo requires -to be shot at particular points or he will certainly escape. The herd ran -up a hill, and I followed in pursuit. As Pontiac rushed headlong down on -the other side, I saw Shaw and Henry descending the hollow on the right -at a leisurely gallop; and in front, the buffalo were just disappearing -behind the crest of the next hill, their short tails erect and their -hoofs twinkling through a cloud of dust. - -At that moment I heard Shaw and Henry shouting to me; but the muscles -of a stronger arm than mine could not have checked at once the furious -course of Pontiac, whose mouth was as insensible as leather. Added to -this, I rode him that morning with a common snaffle, having the day -before, for the benefit of my other horse, unbuckled from my bridle the -curb which I ordinarily used. A stronger and hardier brute never trod -the prairie; but the novel sight of the buffalo filled him with terror, -and when at full speed he was almost incontrollable. Gaining the top -of the ridge, I saw nothing of the buffalo; they had all vanished amid -the intricacies of the hills and hollows. Reloading my pistols in the -best way I could, I galloped on until I saw them again scuttling along -at the base of the hill, their panic somewhat abated. Down went old -Pontiac among them, scattering them to the right and left, and then we -had another long chase. About a dozen bulls were before us, scouring -over the hills, rushing down the declivities with tremendous weight and -impetuosity, and then laboring with a weary gallop upward. Still Pontiac, -in spite of spurring and beating, would not close with them. One bull at -length fell a little behind the rest, and by dint of much effort I urged -my horse within six or eight yards of his side. His back was darkened -with sweat, and he was panting heavily, while his tongue lolled out a -foot from his jaws. Gradually I came up abreast of him, urging Pontiac -with leg and rein nearer to his side, when suddenly he did what buffalo -in such circumstances will always do: he slackened his gallop, and -turning toward us with an aspect of mingled rage and distress, lowered -his huge shaggy head for a charge. Pontiac, with a snort, leaped aside -in terror, nearly throwing me to the ground, as I was wholly unprepared -for such an evolution. I raised my pistol in a passion to strike him on -the head, but thinking better of it, fired the bullet after the bull, -who had resumed his flight; then drew rein, and determined to rejoin -my companions. It was high time. The breath blew hard from Pontiac’s -nostrils, and the sweat rolled in big drops down his sides; I myself -felt as if drenched in warm water. Pledging myself (and I redeemed the -pledge) to take my revenge at a future opportunity, I looked round for -some indications to show me where I was, and what course I ought to -pursue. I might as well have looked for landmarks in the midst of the -ocean. How many miles I had run or in what direction, I had no idea; and -around me the prairie was rolling in steep swells and pitches, without a -single distinctive feature to guide me. I had a little compass hung at my -neck; and ignorant that the Platte at this point diverged considerably -from its easterly course, I thought that by keeping to the northward -I should certainly reach it. So I turned and rode about two hours in -that direction. The prairie changed as I advanced, softening away into -easier undulations, but nothing like the Platte appeared, nor any sign -of a human being; the same wild endless expanse lay around me still; and -to all appearance I was as far from my object as ever. I began now to -consider myself in danger of being lost; and therefore, reining in my -horse, summoned the scanty share of woodcraft that I possessed (if that -term be applicable upon the prairie) to extricate me. Looking round, it -occurred to me that the buffalo might prove my best guides. I soon found -one of the paths made by them in their passage to the river; it ran -nearly at right angles to my course; but turning my horse’s head in the -direction it indicated, his freer gait and erected ears assured me that I -was right. - -But in the meantime my ride had been by no means a solitary one. The -whole face of the country was dotted far and wide with countless hundreds -of buffalo. They trooped along in files and columns, bulls, cows, and -calves, on the green faces of the declivities in front. They scrambled -away over the hills to the right and left; and far off, the pale blue -swells in the extreme distance were dotted with innumerable specks. -Sometimes I surprised shaggy old bulls grazing alone, or sleeping behind -the ridges I ascended. They would leap up at my approach, stare stupidly -at me through their tangled manes, and then gallop heavily away. The -antelope were very numerous; and as they are always bold when in the -neighborhood of buffalo, they would approach quite near to look at me, -gazing intently with their great round eyes, then suddenly leap aside and -stretch lightly away over the prairie as swiftly as a racehorse. Squalid, -ruffian-like wolves sneaked through the hollows and sandy ravines. -Several times I passed through villages of prairie dogs, who sat, each at -the mouth of his burrow, holding his paws before him in a supplicating -attitude and yelping away most vehemently, energetically whisking his -little tail with every squeaking cry he uttered. Prairie dogs are not -fastidious in their choice of companions; various long, checkered snakes -were sunning themselves in the midst of the village, and demure little -gray owls, with a large white ring around each eye, were perched side by -side with the rightful inhabitants. The prairie teemed with life. Again -and again I looked toward the crowded hillsides, and was sure I saw -horsemen; and riding near, with a mixture of hope and dread, for Indians -were abroad, I found them transformed into a group of buffalo. There was -nothing in human shape amid all this vast congregation of brute forms. - -When I turned down the buffalo path, the prairie seemed changed; only -a wolf or two glided past at intervals, like conscious felons, never -looking to the right or left. Being now free from anxiety, I was at -leisure to observe minutely the objects around me; and here, for the -first time, I noticed insects wholly different from any of the varieties -found farther to the eastward. Gaudy butterflies fluttered about my -horse’s head; strangely formed beetles, glittering with metallic luster, -were crawling upon plants that I had never seen before; multitudes of -lizards, too, were darting like lightning over the sand. - -I had run to a great distance from the river. It cost me a long ride -on the buffalo path before I saw from the ridge of a sand-hill the pale -surface of the Platte glistening in the midst of its desert valleys, and -the faint outline of the hills beyond waving along the sky. From where I -stood, not a tree nor a bush nor a living thing was visible throughout -the whole extent of the sun-scorched landscape. In half an hour I came -upon the trail, not far from the river; and seeing that the party had not -yet passed, I turned eastward to meet them, old Pontiac’s long, swinging -trot again assuring me that I was right in doing so. Having been slightly -ill on leaving camp in the morning, six or seven hours of rough riding -had fatigued me extremely. I soon stopped, therefore; flung my saddle on -the ground, and with my head resting on it, and my horse’s trail-rope -tied loosely to my arm, lay waiting the arrival of the party, speculating -meanwhile on the extent of the injuries Pontiac had received. At length -the white wagon coverings rose from the verge of the plain. By a singular -coincidence, almost at the same moment two horsemen appeared coming down -from the hills. They were Shaw and Henry, who had searched for me a while -in the morning, but well knowing the futility of the attempt in such a -broken country, had placed themselves on the top of the highest hill they -could find, and picketing their horses near them, as a signal to me, had -lain down and fallen asleep. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biographical and Historical Note.= Francis Parkman (1823-1893) - was an American writer, born in Boston, where his father was a - well-known clergyman. At the age of eight years he went to live - with his grandfather on a wild tract of land near Boston, and there - developed the fondness for outdoor life which is shown in all his - writings. Parkman was graduated from Harvard College in 1844, and - from the Harvard Law School two years later, but he never practiced - law. The journey related in his book, _The Oregon Trail_, from which - “The Buffalo” is taken, was made immediately after Parkman completed - his law studies. His purpose was to gain an intimate knowledge of - Indian life. From the Missouri River two great overland routes led - across the country to the Pacific. One, the Santa Fe trail, carried - a large overland trade with northern Mexico and southern California; - the other, the Oregon trail, was commonly used by emigrants on their - way to the northwest coast. Parkman’s journey occupied about five - months. He left Boston in April, 1846, accompanied by Quincy Adams - Shaw, a relative, and went first to St. Louis, the trip by railroad, - steamboat, and stage requiring about two weeks. Here they engaged two - guides and procured an outfit, including a supply of presents for - the Indians. After eight days on a river steamboat they arrived at - Independence, Missouri, where the land journey began. - - In a newspaper item of March tenth, 1919, the following appeared: - “For the first time in half a century bisons are on sale in Omaha. - A herd of thirty-three, raised on a Colorado ranch, arrived at the - stock yards yesterday. The meat will sell for around $1.00 a pound.” - - =Discussion.= 1. Locate on a map the Platte River and the region - mentioned in the story. 2. What picture do you see as you read - the fourth paragraph? 3. Briefly relate the incident of the first - afternoon’s hunting trip. 4. What objections to traveling with - emigrants did the party find? 5. What do you learn of prairie animals - from this story? 6. Read the description of the prairie dog found on - page 12; why is this description a good one? 7. What insects that - differ from those found farther east does the author mention? 8. - Point out lines that show Parkman to be excellent in description. 9. - Compare travel at the time the author made this trip with travel at - the present time. 10. Pronounce the following: alternately; minute; - reptile; patriarch; inextricably; ally; robust; squalid; pumpkin; - lolled; applicable; vehemently; buttes; gorges; circuit. - - =Phrases= - - (_The numbers in heavy type refer to pages; numbers in light type to - lines._) - - Transcriber’s Note: This notation has not been reproduced in this - e-text. The first number refers to the page, the second to the line. - However, as the original pages and lines have not been preserved in - this text version, you will need to search for words or phrases (or - use the HTML version, in which links are provided to each phrase). - - exaggerated appreciation, 1, 7 - attentively scrutinized, 2, 11 - in his wake, 2, 17 - issued on the prairie, 2, 20 - gashed with numberless ravines, 2, 24 - doubly wild, 2, 27 - to windward, 2, 30 - Indian file, 3, 1 - worming his way, 3, 8 - science of a connoisseur, 3, 30 - overcame his scruples, 3, 35 - more eligible portions, 3, 35 - in the teeth of the sleet, 4, 5 - collapsed in proportion, 4, 15 - transatlantic sources, 4, 34 - an unbounded aversion, 5, 3 - to “run” a buffalo, 5, 4 - I shall “approach,” 5, 29 - staggered at the suggestion, 5, 32 - characteristic indecision, 5, 32 - _bourgeois_ of Fort Laramie, 6, 9 - rawboned proportions, 6, 26 - assimilating themselves, 6, 35 - involved in the shallows, 7, 8 - disproportioned and appalling, 7, 19 - breasting the hill, 7, 20 - hold the middle guard, 7, 31 - reaped the fruits, 8, 4 - precious plan, 8, 4 - wholesome law of the prairie, 8, 9 - such an apprehension, 9, 3 - drew our saddle-girths, 9, 14 - laboring with a weary gallop, 10, 28 - dint of much effort, 10, 31 - high time, 11, 7 - supplicating attitude, 12, 15 - rightful inhabitants, 12, 21 - vast congregation, 12, 26 - - -OLD EPHRAIM, THE GRIZZLY BEAR - -THEODORE ROOSEVELT - - -VARIETIES OF BEAR - -The king of the game beasts of temperate North America, because the most -dangerous to the hunter, is the grizzly bear; known to the few remaining -old-time trappers of the Rockies and the Great Plains, sometimes as “Old -Ephraim” and sometimes as “Moccasin Joe”—the last in allusion to his -queer, half-human footprints, which look as if made by some misshapen -giant, walking in moccasins. - -Bear vary greatly in size and color, no less than in temper and habits. -Old hunters speak much of them in their endless talks over the camp-fires -and in the snow-bound winter huts. They insist on many species; not -merely the black and the grizzly, but the brown, the cinnamon, the gray, -the silver-tip, and others with names known only in certain localities, -such as the range bear, the roach-back, and the smut-face. But, in -spite of popular opinion to the contrary, most old hunters are very -untrustworthy in dealing with points of natural history. They usually -know only so much about any given game animal as will enable them to -kill it. They study its habits solely with this end in view; and once -slain they only examine it to see about its condition and fur. With rare -exceptions they are quite incapable of passing judgment upon questions of -specific identity or difference. When questioned, they not only advance -perfectly impossible theories and facts in support of their views, but -they rarely even agree as to the views themselves. One hunter will assert -that the true grizzly is only found in California, heedless of the fact -that the name was first used by Lewis and Clark as one of the titles -they applied to the large bears of the plains country round the Upper -Missouri, a quarter of a century before the California grizzly was known -to fame. Another hunter will call any big brindled bear a grizzly no -matter where it is found; and he and his companions will dispute by the -hour as to whether a bear of large, but not extreme, size is a grizzly -or a silver-tip. In Oregon the cinnamon bear is a phase of the small -black bear; in Montana it is the plains variety of the large mountain -silver-tip. I have myself seen the skins of two bears killed on the upper -waters of Tongue River; one was that of a male, one of a female, and they -had evidently just mated; yet one was distinctly a “silver-tip” and the -other a “cinnamon.” The skin of one very big bear which I killed in the -Bighorn has proved a standing puzzle to almost all the old hunters to -whom I have shown it; rarely do any two of them agree as to whether it -is a grizzly, a silver-tip, a cinnamon, or a “smut-face.” Any bear with -unusually long hair on the spine and shoulders, especially if killed in -the spring, when the fur is shaggy, is forthwith dubbed a “roach-back.” -The average sporting writer, moreover, joins with the more imaginative -members of the “old hunter” variety in ascribing wildly various traits -to these different bears. One comments on the superior prowess of the -roach-back; the explanation being that a bear in early spring is apt to -be ravenous from hunger. The next insists that the California grizzly is -the only really dangerous bear; while another stoutly maintains that it -does not compare in ferocity with what he calls the “smaller” silver-tip -or cinnamon. And so on, and so on, without end. All of which is mere -nonsense. - -Nevertheless, it is no easy task to determine how many species or -varieties of bear actually do exist in the United States, and I cannot -even say without doubt that a very large set of skins and skulls would -not show a nearly complete intergradation between the most widely -separated individuals. However, there are certainly two very distinct -types, which differ almost as widely from each other as a wapiti does -from a mule deer, and which exist in the same localities in most heavily -timbered portions of the Rockies. One is the small black bear, a bear -which will average about two hundred pounds weight, with fine, glossy, -black fur, and the foreclaws but little longer than the hinder ones; -in fact, the hairs of the forepaw often reach to their tips. This bear -is a tree climber. It is the only kind found east of the great plains, -and it is also plentiful in the forest-clad portions of the Rockies, -being common in most heavily timbered tracts throughout the United -States. The other is the grizzly, which weighs three or four times as -much as the black, and has a pelt of coarse hair, which is in color -gray, grizzled, or brown of various shades. It is not a tree climber, -and the foreclaws are very long, much longer than the hinder ones. It -is found from the great plains west of the Mississippi to the Pacific -coast. This bear inhabits indifferently lowland and mountain; the deep -woods and the barren plains where the only cover is the stunted growth -fringing the streams. These two types are very distinct in every way, -and their differences are not at all dependent upon mere geographical -considerations; for they are often found in the same district. Thus I -found them both in the Bighorn Mountains, each type being in extreme -form, while the specimens I shot showed no trace of intergradation. -The huge, grizzled, long-clawed beast, and its little, glossy-coated, -short-clawed, tree-climbing brother roamed over exactly the same country -in those mountains; but they were as distinct in habits, and mixed as -little together as moose and caribou. - -On the other hand, when a sufficient number of bears from widely -separated regions are examined, the various distinguishing marks are -found to be inconstant and to show a tendency—exactly how strong I cannot -say—to fade into one another. The differentiation of the two species -seems to be as yet scarcely completed; there are more or less imperfect -connecting links, and as regards the grizzly it almost seems as if the -specific characters were still unstable. In the far Northwest, in the -basin of the Columbia, the “black” bear is as often brown as any other -color; and I have seen the skins of two cubs, one black and one brown, -which were shot when following the same dam. When these brown bears -have coarser hair than usual their skins are with difficulty to be -distinguished from those of certain varieties of the grizzly. Moreover, -all bears vary greatly in size; and I have seen the bodies of very large -black or brown bears with short foreclaws which were fully as heavy as, -or perhaps heavier than, some small but full-grown grizzlies with long -foreclaws. These very large bears with short claws are very reluctant to -climb a tree; and are almost as clumsy about it as is a young grizzly. -Among the grizzlies the fur varies much in color and texture even among -bears of the same locality; it is of course richest in the deep forest, -while the bears of the dry plains and mountains are of a lighter, more -washed-out hue. - -A full-grown grizzly will usually weigh from five to seven hundred -pounds; but exceptional individuals undoubtedly reach more than twelve -hundredweight. The California bears are said to be much the largest. -This I think is so, but I cannot say it with certainty—at any rate, I -have examined several skins of full-grown Californian bears which were -no larger than those of many I have seen from the northern Rockies. The -Alaskan bears, particularly those of the peninsula, are even bigger -beasts; the skin of one which I saw in the possession of Mr. Webster, -the taxidermist, was a good deal larger than the average polar bear -skin; and the animal when alive, if in good condition, could hardly have -weighed less than 1400 pounds. Bears vary wonderfully in weight, even to -the extent of becoming half as heavy again, according as they are fat or -lean; in this respect they are more like hogs than like any other animals. - - -HABITS OF BEAR - -The grizzly is now chiefly a beast of the high hills and heavy timber; -but this is merely because he has learned that he must rely on cover to -guard him from man, and has forsaken the open ground accordingly. In old -days, and in one or two very out-of-the-way places almost to the present -time, he wandered at will over the plains. It is only the wariness born -of fear which nowadays causes him to cling to the thick brush of the -large river bottoms throughout the plains country. When there were no -rifle-bearing hunters in the land, to harass him and make him afraid, -he roved hither and thither at will, in burly self-confidence. Then he -cared little for cover, unless as a weather-break, or because it happened -to contain food he liked. If the humor seized him he would roam for -days over the rolling or broken prairie, searching for roots, digging -up gophers, or perhaps following the great buffalo herds either to prey -on some unwary straggler which he was able to catch at a disadvantage -in a washout, or else to feast on the carcasses of those which died by -accident. Old hunters, survivors of the long-vanished ages when the -vast herds thronged the high plains and were followed by the wild red -tribes, and by bands of whites who were scarcely less savage, have told -me that they often met bears under such circumstances; and these bears -were accustomed to sleep in a patch of rank sage bush, in the niche of a -washout, or under the lee of a bowlder, seeking their food abroad even in -full daylight. The bears of the Upper Missouri basin—which were so light -in color that the early explorers often alluded to them as gray or even -as “white”—were particularly given to this life in the open. To this day -that close kinsman of the grizzly known as the bear of the barren grounds -continues to lead this same kind of life, in the far north. My friend, -Mr. Rockhill, of Maryland, who was the first white man to explore eastern -Tibet, describes the large grizzly-like bear of those desolate uplands as -having similar habits. - -However, the grizzly is a shrewd beast and shows the usual bear-like -capacity for adapting himself to changed conditions. He has in most -places become a cover-haunting animal, sly in his ways, wary to a degree, -and clinging to the shelter of the deepest forests in the mountains and -of the most tangled thickets in the plains. Hence he has held his own -far better than such game as the bison and elk. He is much less common -than formerly, but he is still to be found throughout most of his former -range; save, of course, in the immediate neighborhood of the large towns. - -In most places the grizzly hibernates, or, as old hunters say, “holes -up,” during the cold season, precisely as does the black bear; but, as -with the latter species, those animals which live farthest south spend -the whole year abroad in mild seasons. The grizzly rarely chooses that -favorite den of his little black brother, a hollow tree or log, for -his winter sleep, seeking or making some cavernous hole in the ground -instead. The hole is sometimes in a slight hillock in a river bottom, -but more often on a hill-side, and may be either shallow or deep. In -the mountains it is generally a natural cave in the rock, but among the -foot-hills and on the plains the bear usually has to take some hollow or -opening, and then fashion it into a burrow to his liking with his big -digging claws. - -Before the cold weather sets in, the bear begins to grow restless, and to -roam about seeking for a good place in which to hole up. One will often -try and abandon several caves or partially dug-out burrows in succession -before finding a place to its taste. It always endeavors to choose a spot -where there is little chance of discovery or molestation, taking great -care to avoid leaving too evident trace of its work. Hence it is not -often that the dens are found. - -Once in its den the bear passes the cold months in lethargic sleep; yet, -in all but the coldest weather, and sometimes even then, its slumber is -but light, and if disturbed it will promptly leave its den, prepared for -fight or flight as the occasion may require. Many times when a hunter -has stumbled on the winter resting-place of a bear and has left it, as -he thought, without his presence being discovered, he has returned only -to find that the crafty old fellow was aware of the danger all the time, -and sneaked off as soon as the coast was clear. But in very cold weather -hibernating bears can hardly be wakened from their torpid lethargy. - -The length of time a bear stays in its den depends of course upon the -severity of the season and the latitude and altitude of the country. - -When the bear first leaves its den the fur is in very fine order, but it -speedily becomes thin and poor, and does not recover its condition until -the fall. Sometimes the bear does not betray any great hunger for a few -days after its appearance; but in a short while it becomes ravenous. -During the early spring, when the woods are still entirely barren and -lifeless, while the snow yet lies in deep drifts, the lean, hungry brute, -both maddened and weakened by long fasting, is more of a flesh eater than -at any other time. It is at this period that it is most apt to turn true -beast of prey, and show its prowess either at the expense of the wild -game, or of the flocks of the settler and the herds of the ranchman. -Bears are very capricious in this respect, however. Some are confirmed -game and cattle killers; others are not; while yet others either are or -are not, accordingly as the freak seizes them, and their ravages vary -almost unaccountably, both with the season and the locality. - - -AN EXCITING BEAR HUNT - -I spent much of the fall of 1889 hunting on the head-waters of the Salmon -and Snake in Idaho, and along the Montana boundary line from the Big Hole -Basin and the head of the Wisdom River to the neighborhood of Red Rock -Pass and to the north and west of Henry’s Lake. During the last fortnight -my companion was the old mountain man named Griffeth or Griffin—I cannot -tell which, as he was always called either “Hank” or “Griff.” He was -a crabbedly honest old fellow, and a very skillful hunter; but he was -worn out with age and rheumatism, and his temper had failed even faster -than his bodily strength. He showed me a greater variety of game than -I had ever seen before in so short a time; nor did I ever before or -after make so successful a hunt. But he was an exceedingly disagreeable -companion on account of his surly, moody ways. I generally had to get -up first, to kindle the fire and make ready breakfast, and he was very -quarrelsome. Finally, during my absence from camp one day, while not very -far from Red Rock Pass, he found my whiskey-flask, which I kept purely -for emergencies, and drank all the contents. When I came back he was -quite drunk. This was unbearable, and after some high words I left him, -and struck off homeward through the woods on my own account. We had with -us four pack and saddle horses; and of these I took a very intelligent -and gentle little bronco mare, which possessed the invaluable trait of -always staying near camp, even when not hobbled. I was not hampered with -much of an outfit, having only my buffalo sleeping-bag, a fur coat, -and my washing-kit, with a couple of spare pairs of socks and some -handkerchiefs. A frying-pan, some salt, flour, baking-powder, a small -chunk of salt pork, and a hatchet made up a light pack, which, with the -bedding, I fastened across the stock saddle by means of a rope and a -spare packing cinch. My cartridges and knife were in my belt; my compass -and matches, as always, in my pocket. I walked, while the little mare -followed almost like a dog, often without my having to hold the lariat -which served as halter. - -The country was for the most part fairly open, as I kept near the -foot-hills where glades and little prairies broke the pine forest. The -trees were of small size. There was no regular trail, but the course was -easy to keep, and I had no trouble of any kind save on the second day. -That afternoon I was following a stream which at last “canyoned up”—that -is, sank to the bottom of a canyon-like ravine impassable for a horse. -I started up a side valley, intending to cross from its head coulies to -those of another valley which would lead in below the canyon. - -However, I got enmeshed in the tangle of winding valleys at the foot of -the steep mountains, and as dusk was coming on I halted and camped in a -little open spot by the side of a small, noisy brook, with crystal water. -The place was carpeted with soft, wet, green moss, dotted red with the -kinnikinnic berries, and at its edge, under the trees where the ground -was dry, I threw down the buffalo bed on the mat of sweet-smelling pine -needles. Making camp took but a moment. I opened the pack, tossed the -bedding on a smooth spot, knee-haltered the little mare, dragged up a few -dry logs, and then strolled off, rifle on shoulder, through the frosty -gloaming, to see if I could pick up a grouse for supper. - -For half a mile I walked quickly and silently over the pine needles, -across a succession of slight ridges separated by narrow, shallow -valleys. The forest here was composed of lodge-pole pines, which on -the ridges grew close together, with tall slender trunks, while in the -valleys the growth was more open. Though the sun was behind the mountains -there was yet plenty of light by which to shoot, but it was fading -rapidly. - -At last, as I was thinking of turning toward camp, I stole up to the -crest of one of the ridges, and looked over into the valley some sixty -yards off. Immediately I caught the loom of some large, dark object; and -another glance showed me a big grizzly walking slowly off with his head -down. He was quartering to me, and I fired into his flank, the bullet, -as I afterward found, ranging forward and piercing one lung. At the shot -he uttered a loud, moaning grunt and plunged forward at a heavy gallop, -while I raced obliquely down the hill to cut him off. After going a -few hundred feet he reached a laurel thicket, some thirty yards broad, -and two or three times as long, which he did not leave. I ran up to the -edge and there halted, not liking to venture into the mass of twisted, -close-growing stems and glossy foliage. Moreover, as I halted, I heard -him utter a peculiar, savage kind of whine from the heart of the brush. -Accordingly, I began to skirt the edge, standing on tiptoe and gazing -earnestly to see if I could not catch a glimpse of his hide. When I -was at the narrowest part of the thicket, he suddenly left it directly -opposite, and then wheeled and stood broadside to me on the hill-side, a -little above. He turned his head stiffly toward me; scarlet strings of -froth hung from his lips; his eyes burned like embers in the gloom. - -I held true, aiming behind the shoulder, and my bullet shattered the -point or lower end of his heart, taking out a big nick. Instantly the -great bear turned with a harsh roar of fury and challenge, blowing the -bloody foam from his mouth, so that I saw the gleam of his white fangs; -and then he charged straight at me, crashing and bounding through the -laurel bushes, so that it was hard to aim. I waited until he came to a -fallen tree, raking him as he topped it with a ball which entered his -chest and went through the cavity of his body, but he neither swerved -nor flinched, and at the moment I did not know that I had struck him. He -came steadily on, and in another second was almost upon me. I fired for -his forehead, but my bullet went low, entering his open mouth, smashing -his lower jaw and going into the neck. I leaped to one side almost as I -pulled trigger; and through the hanging smoke the first thing I saw was -his paw as he made a vicious side blow at me. The rush of his charge -carried him past. As he struck he lurched forward, leaving a pool of -bright blood where his muzzle hit the ground; but he recovered himself -and made two or three jumps onward, while I hurriedly jammed a couple of -cartridges into the magazine, my rifle holding only four, all of which I -had fired. Then he tried to pull up, but as he did so his muscles seemed -suddenly to give way, his head drooped, and he rolled over and over like -a shot rabbit. Each of my first three bullets had inflicted a mortal -wound. - -It was already twilight, and I merely opened the carcass, and then -trotted back to camp. Next morning I returned and with much labor took -off the skin. The fur was very fine, the animal being in excellent trim, -and unusually bright-colored. Unfortunately, in packing it out I lost the -skull, and had to supply its place with one of plaster. The beauty of the -trophy, and the memory of the circumstances under which I procured it, -make me value it perhaps more highly than any other in my house. - -This is the only instance in which I have been regularly charged by a -grizzly. On the whole, the danger of hunting these great bears has been -much exaggerated. At the beginning of the present century, when white -hunters first encountered the grizzly, he was doubtless an exceedingly -savage beast, prone to attack without provocation, and a redoubtable foe -to persons armed with the clumsy, small-bore, muzzle-loading rifles of -the day. But at present, bitter experience has taught him caution. He -has been hunted for sport, and hunted for his pelt, and hunted for the -bounty, and hunted as a dangerous enemy to stock, until, save in the very -wildest districts, he has learned to be more wary than a deer, and to -avoid man’s presence almost as carefully as the most timid kind of game. -Except in rare cases he will not attack of his own accord, and, as a -rule, even when wounded his object is escape rather than battle. - -Still, when fairly brought to bay, or when moved by a sudden fit of -ungovernable anger, the grizzly is beyond peradventure a very dangerous -antagonist. The first shot, if taken at a bear a good distance off and -previously unwounded and unharried, is not usually fraught with much -danger, the startled animal being at the outset bent merely on flight. -It is always hazardous, however, to track a wounded and worried grizzly -into thick cover, and the man who habitually follows and kills this chief -of American game in dense timber, never abandoning the bloody trail -whithersoever it leads, must show no small degree of skill and hardihood, -and must not too closely count the risk to life or limb. Bears differ -widely in temper, and occasionally one may be found who will not show -fight, no matter how much he is bullied; but, as a rule, a hunter must be -cautious in meddling with a wounded animal which has retreated into a -dense thicket, and has been once or twice roused; and such a beast, when -it does turn, will usually charge again and again, and fight to the last -with unconquerable ferocity. The short distance at which the bear can be -seen through the underbrush, the fury of its charge, and its tenacity of -life make it necessary for the hunter on such occasions to have steady -nerves and a fairly quick and accurate aim. It is always well to have -two men in following a wounded bear under such conditions. This is not -necessary, however, and a good hunter, rather than lose his quarry, will, -under ordinary circumstances, follow and attack it, no matter how tangled -the fastness in which it has sought refuge; but he must act warily and -with the utmost caution and resolution, if he wishes to escape a terrible -and probably fatal mauling. An experienced hunter is rarely rash, and -never heedless; he will not, when alone, follow a wounded bear into a -thicket, if by the exercise of patience, skill, and knowledge of the -game’s habits he can avoid the necessity; but it is idle to talk of the -feat as something which ought in no case to be attempted. While danger -ought never to be needlessly incurred, it is yet true that the keenest -zest in sport comes from its presence, and from the consequent exercise -of the qualities necessary to overcome it. The most thrilling moments of -an American hunter’s life are those in which, with every sense on the -alert, and with nerves strung to the highest point, he is following alone -into the heart of its forest fastness the fresh and bloody footprints of -an angered grizzly; and no other triumph of American hunting can compare -with the victory to be thus gained. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Theodore Roosevelt (1858-1919), twenty-sixth President - of the United States, was born in New York City. As a boy he was of - frail physique, but overcame this handicap by systematic exercise - and outdoor life. He was always interested in natural history, and - at the age of fourteen, when he accompanied his father on a tour up - the Nile, he made a collection of the Egyptian birds to be found in - the Nile valley. This collection is now in the Smithsonian Museum, - Washington, D. C. In 1884, Roosevelt bought two cattle ranches near - Medora, in North Dakota, where for two years he lived and entered - actively into western life and spirit. - - In 1909, at the close of his presidency, he conducted an expedition - to Africa, to make a collection of tropical animals and plants. - Expert naturalists accompanied the party, which remained in the - wilderness for a year, and returned with a collection which - scientists pronounce of unusual value for students of natural - history. Most of the specimens are now in the Smithsonian Museum. - Some of the books in which he has recorded his hunting experiences - are: _African Game Trails_, _The Deer Family_, and _The Wilderness - Hunter_, from which “Old Ephraim, the Grizzly Bear” is taken. - - Mr. Roosevelt’s last work as an explorer was his journey to South - America. On this journey he penetrated wildernesses rarely explored - by white men, and made many discoveries in the field of South - American animal and vegetable life and in geography. - - The vigorous personality of this great American found expression not - only in the life of men and their political and social relations, but - also in his love of the great outdoors and the unbeaten tracks where - life is an adventure, primitive in surroundings, such a life as was - lived by Sir Walter Raleigh and other great seamen and explorers who - were not content with the tameness of the commonplace. - - =Discussion.= 1. By what characteristics may the grizzly generally be - distinguished from the black bear? 2. Which of these characteristics - is most fixed? 3. What change has taken place in the habits of the - North American grizzly? 4. Account for this change. 5. Locate the - region in which the author was hunting at the time of the adventure - he narrates. 6. Describe his outfit and tell what must be considered - in providing such a hunting outfit. 7. What moments in the encounter - with the grizzly were most exciting and dangerous? 8. What qualities - must a hunter of such game possess? 9. What conclusions does the - author give as a result of his experience in hunting “this chief of - American game”? 10. What impression of the author do you gain from - this story? 11. Pronounce: species; wariness; harass; lethargic; - capricious; canyon; obliquely; severity; misshapen. - - =Phrases= - - popular opinion, 15, 14 - natural history, 15, 16 - specific identity, 15, 21 - standing puzzle, 16, 9 - superior prowess, 16, 17 - stoutly maintains, 16, 21 - widely separated individuals, 16, 28 - inhabits indifferently, 17, 7 - in extreme form, 17, 14 - imperfect connecting links, 17, 25 - rely on cover, 18, 23 - wariness born of fear, 18, 26 - lee of a bowlder, 19, 9 - wary to a degree, 19, 21 - held his own, 19, 23 - crabbedly honest, 21, 11 - quartering to me, 22, 34 - hunted for the bounty, 24, 17 - brought to bay, 24, 24 - beyond peradventure, 24, 25 - - -MOTI GUJ—MUTINEER - -RUDYARD KIPLING - - -DEESA’S PLAN FOR A VACATION - -Once upon a time there was a coffee-planter in India who wished to -clear some forest land for coffee-planting. When he had cut down all -the trees and burned the underwood, the stumps still remained. Dynamite -is expensive and slow fire slow. The happy medium for stump-clearing is -the lord of all beasts, who is the elephant. He will either push the -stump out of the ground with his tusks, if he has any, or drag it out -with ropes. The planter, therefore, hired elephants by ones and twos and -threes, and fell to work. The very best of all the elephants belonged to -the very worst of all the drivers or mahouts; and this superior beast’s -name was Moti Guj. He was the absolute property of his mahout, which -would never have been the case under native rule: for Moti Guj was a -creature to be desired by kings, and his name, being translated, meant -the Pearl Elephant. Because the British government was in the land, -Deesa, the mahout, enjoyed his property undisturbed. He was dissipated. -When he had made much money through the strength of his elephant, he -would get extremely drunk and give Moti Guj a beating with a tent-peg -over the tender nails of the forefeet. Moti Guj never trampled the life -out of Deesa on these occasions, for he knew that after the beating -was over, Deesa would embrace his trunk and weep and call him his love -and his life and the liver of his soul, and give him some liquor. Moti -Guj was very fond of liquor—arrack for choice, though he would drink -palm-tree toddy if nothing better offered. Then Deesa would go to sleep -between Moti Guj’s forefeet, and as Deesa generally chose the middle of -the public road, and as Moti Guj mounted guard over him, and would not -permit horse, foot, or cart to pass by, traffic was congested till Deesa -saw fit to wake up. - -There was no sleeping in the daytime on the planter’s clearing: the -wages were too high to risk. Deesa sat on Moti Guj’s neck and gave him -orders, while Moti Guj rooted up the stumps—for he owned a magnificent -pair of tusks; or pulled at the end of a rope—for he had a magnificent -pair of shoulders—while Deesa kicked him behind the ears and said he -was the king of elephants. At evening time Moti Guj would wash down his -three hundred pounds’ weight of green food with a quart of arrack, and -Deesa would take a share, and sing songs between Moti Guj’s legs till it -was time to go to bed. Once a week Deesa led Moti Guj down to the river, -and Moti Guj lay on his side luxuriously in the shallows, while Deesa -went over him with a coir-swab and a brick. Moti Guj never mistook the -pounding blow of the latter for the smack of the former that warned him -to get up and turn over on the other side. Then Deesa would look at his -feet and examine his eyes, and turn up the fringes of his mighty ears in -case of sores or budding ophthalmia. After inspection the two would “come -up with a song from the sea,” Moti Guj, all black and shining, weaving a -torn tree branch twelve feet long in his trunk, and Deesa knotting up his -own long wet hair. - -It was a peaceful, well-paid life till Deesa felt the return of the -desire to drink deep. He wished for an orgy. The little draughts that led -nowhere were taking the manhood out of him. - -He went to the planter, and “My mother’s dead,” said he, weeping. - -“She died on the last plantation two months ago, and she died once before -that when you were working for me last year,” said the planter, who knew -something of the ways of nativedom. - -“Then it’s my aunt, and she was just the same as a mother to me,” said -Deesa, weeping more than ever. “She has left eighteen small children -entirely without bread, and it is I who must fill their little stomachs,” -said Deesa, beating his head on the floor. - -“Who brought you the news?” said the planter. - -“The post,” said Deesa. - -“There hasn’t been a post here for the past week. Get back to your lines!” - -“A devastating sickness has fallen on my village, and all my wives are -dying,” yelled Deesa, really in tears this time. - -“Call Chihun, who comes from Deesa’s village,” said the planter. “Chihun, -has this man got a wife?” - -“He?” said Chihun. “No. Not a woman of our village would look at him. -They’d sooner marry the elephant.” - -Chihun snorted. Deesa wept and bellowed. - -“You will get into a difficulty in a minute,” said the planter. “Go back -to your work!” - -“Now I will speak Heaven’s truth,” gulped Deesa, with an inspiration. “I -haven’t been drunk for two months. I desire to depart in order to get -properly drunk afar off and distant from this heavenly plantation. Thus I -shall cause no trouble.” - -A flickering smile crossed the planter’s face. “Deesa,” said he, “you’ve -spoken the truth, and I’d give you leave on the spot if anything could -be done with Moti Guj while you’re away. You know that he will only obey -your orders.” - -“May the light of the heavens live forty thousand years. I shall be -absent but ten little days. After that, upon my faith and honor and -soul, I return. As to the inconsiderable interval, have I the gracious -permission of the heaven-born to call up Moti Guj?” - -Permission was granted, and in answer to Deesa’s shrill yell, the mighty -tusker swung out of the shade of a clump of trees where he had been -squirting dust over himself till his master should return. - -“Light of my heart, protector of the drunken, mountain of might, give -ear!” said Deesa, standing in front of him. - -Moti Guj gave ear, and saluted with his trunk. “I am going away,” said -Deesa. - -Moti Guj’s eyes twinkled. He liked jaunts as well as his master. One -could snatch all manner of nice things from the road-side then. - -“But you, you fussy old pig, must stay behind and work.” - -The twinkle died out as Moti Guj tried to look delighted. He hated -stump-hauling on the plantation. It hurt his teeth. - -“I shall be gone for ten days, oh, delectable one! Hold up your near -forefoot and I’ll impress the fact upon it, warty toad of a dried -mud-puddle.” Deesa took a tent-peg and banged Moti Guj ten times on the -nails. Moti Guj grunted and shuffled from foot to foot. - -“Ten days,” said Deesa, “you will work and haul and root the trees as -Chihun here shall order you. Take up Chihun and set him on your neck!” -Moti Guj curled the tip of his trunk, Chihun put his foot there, and was -swung on to the neck. Deesa handed Chihun the heavy _ankus_—the iron -elephant goad. - -Chihun thumped Moti Guj’s bald head as a paver thumps a curbstone. - -Moti Guj trumpeted. - -“Be still, hog of the backwoods! Chihun’s your mahout for ten days. And -now bid me good-by, beast after mine own heart. Oh, my lord, my king! -Jewel of all created elephants, lily of the herd, preserve your honored -health; be virtuous. Adieu!” - -Moti Guj lapped his trunk round Deesa and swung him into the air twice. -That was his way of bidding him good-by. - -“He’ll work now,” said Deesa to the planter. “Have I leave to go?” - -The planter nodded, and Deesa dived into the woods. Moti Guj went back to -haul stumps. - - -THE MUTINY - -Chihun was very kind to him, but he felt unhappy and forlorn for all -that. Chihun gave him a ball of spices, and tickled him under the chin, -and Chihun’s little baby cooed to him after work was over, and Chihun’s -wife called him a darling; but Moti Guj was a bachelor by instinct, as -Deesa was. He did not understand the domestic emotions. He wanted the -light of his universe back again—the drink and the drunken slumber, the -savage beatings and the savage caresses. - -None the less he worked well, and the planter wondered. Deesa had -wandered along the roads till he met a marriage procession of his own -caste, and, drinking, dancing, and tippling, had drifted with it past all -knowledge of the lapse of time. - -The morning of the eleventh day dawned, and there returned no Deesa. Moti -Guj was loosed from his ropes for the daily stint. He swung clear, looked -round, shrugged his shoulders, and began to walk away, as one having -business elsewhere. - -“Hi! ho! Come back, you!” shouted Chihun. “Come back and put me on your -neck, misborn mountain! Return, splendor of the hill-sides! Adornment of -all India, heave to, or I’ll bang every toe off your fat forefoot!” - -Moti Guj gurgled gently, but did not obey. Chihun ran after him with a -rope and caught him up. Moti Guj put his ears forward, and Chihun knew -what that meant, though he tried to carry it off with high words. - -“None of your nonsense with me,” said he. “To your pickets, devil-son!” - -“Hrrump!” said Moti Guj, and that was all—that and the forebent ears. - -Moti Guj put his hands in his pockets, chewed a branch for a toothpick, -and strolled about the clearing, making fun of the other elephants who -had just set to work. - -Chihun reported the state of affairs to the planter, who came out with -a dog-whip and cracked it furiously. Moti Guj paid the white man the -compliment of charging him nearly a quarter of a mile across the clearing -and “Hrrumphing” him into his veranda. Then he stood outside the house, -chuckling to himself and shaking all over with the fun of it as an -elephant will. - -“We’ll thrash him,” said the planter. “He shall have the finest thrashing -ever elephant received. Give Kala Nag and Nazim twelve foot of chain -apiece, and tell them to lay on twenty.” - -Kala Nag—which means Black Snake—and Nazim were two of the biggest -elephants in the lines, and one of their duties was to administer the -graver punishment, since no man can beat an elephant properly. - -They took the whipping-chains and rattled them in their trunks as they -sidled up to Moti Guj, meaning to hustle him between them. Moti Guj had -never, in all his life of thirty-nine years, been whipped, and he did -not intend to begin a new experience. So he waited, waving his head from -right to left, and measuring the precise spot in Kala Nag’s fat side -where a blunt tusk could sink deepest. Kala Nag had no tusks; the chain -was the badge of his authority; but for all that, he swung wide of Moti -Guj at the last minute, and tried to appear as if he had brought the -chain out for amusement. Nazim turned round and went home early. He did -not feel fighting fit that morning and so Moti Guj was left standing -alone with his ears cocked. - -That decided the planter to argue no more, and Moti Guj rolled back to -his amateur inspection of the clearing. An elephant who will not work and -is not tied up is about as manageable as an eighty-one-ton gun loose in -a heavy seaway. He slapped old friends on the back and asked them if the -stumps were coming away easily; he talked nonsense concerning labor and -the inalienable rights of elephants to a long “nooning”; and, wandering -to and fro, he thoroughly demoralized the garden till sundown, when he -returned to his-picket for food. - -“If you won’t work, you shan’t eat,” said Chihun, angrily. “You’re a wild -elephant, and no educated animal at all. Go back to your jungle.” - -Chihun’s little brown baby was rolling on the floor of the hut, and -stretching out its fat arms to the huge shadow in the doorway. Moti Guj -knew well that it was the dearest thing on earth to Chihun. He swung out -his trunk with a fascinating crook at the end, and the brown baby threw -itself, shouting, upon it. Moti Guj made fast and pulled up till the -brown baby was crowing in the air twelve feet above his father’s head. - -“Great Lord!” said Chihun. “Flour cakes of the best, twelve in number, -two feet across and soaked in rum, shall be yours on the instant, and two -hundred pounds weight of fresh-cut young sugar-cane therewith. Deign only -to put down safely that insignificant brat who is my heart and my life to -me!” - -Moti Guj tucked the brown baby comfortably between his forefeet, that -could have knocked into toothpicks all Chihun’s hut, and waited for his -food. He ate it, and the brown baby crawled away. Moti Guj dozed and -thought of Deesa. One of many mysteries connected with the elephant is -that his huge body needs less sleep than anything else that lives. Four -or five hours in the night suffice—two just before midnight, lying down -on one side; two just after one o’clock, lying down on the other. The -rest of the silent hours are filled with eating and fidgeting, and long -grumbling soliloquies. - -At midnight, therefore, Moti Guj strode out of his pickets, for a thought -had come to him that Deesa might be lying drunk somewhere in the dark -forest with none to look after him. So all that night he chased through -the undergrowth, blowing and trumpeting and shaking his ears. He went -down to the river and blared across the shallows where Deesa used to wash -him, but there was no answer. He could not find Deesa, but he disturbed -all the other elephants in the lines, and nearly frightened to death some -gypsies in the woods. - -At dawn Deesa returned to the plantation. He had been very drunk indeed, -and he expected to get into trouble for outstaying his leave. He drew a -long breath when he saw that the bungalow and the plantation were still -uninjured, for he knew something of Moti Guj’s temper, and reported -himself with many lies and salaams. Moti Guj had gone to his pickets for -breakfast. The night exercise had made him hungry. - -“Call up your beast,” said the planter; and Deesa shouted in the -mysterious elephant language that some mahouts believe came from China -at the birth of the world, when elephants and not men were masters. Moti -Guj heard and came. Elephants do not gallop. They move from places at -varying rates of speed. If an elephant wished to catch an express train -he could not gallop, but he could catch the train. So Moti Guj was at the -planter’s door almost before Chihun noticed that he had left his pickets. -He fell into Deesa’s arms, trumpeting with joy, and the man and beast -wept and slobbered over each other, and handled each other from head to -heel to see that no harm had befallen. - -“Now we will get to work,” said Deesa. “Lift me up, my son and my joy!” - -Moti Guj swung him up, and the two went to the coffee-clearing to look -for difficult stumps. - -The planter was too astonished to be very angry. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Rudyard Kipling (1865—) was born in Bombay, India, of - British parents. He was sent to England for most of his education, - but at the age of seventeen he returned to India to work as a - journalist. Very soon he began to write tales of the life about him, - as well as poems dealing with British civil officials and soldiers in - India. By the time he was twenty-four he had won fame with his _Plain - Tales from the Hills_ and other short stories; and when he published - _Barrack Room Ballads_, in 1892, he was widely recognized as a great - poet. From 1892 to 1896 he lived in the United States. Perhaps he is - best known to boys and girls as the author of the _Jungle Books_. - He is a master of the art of telling stories, either in prose or - verse. His ballads about the British soldier, “Tommy Atkins,” and - his experiences on the frontiers of civilization, have a ring and a - movement that suggests the old days when the ballad-maker was a man - of action, living the adventures that he celebrated in song. - - =Discussion.= 1. Read all that tells you of the time and place in - which this mutiny occurred. 2. Read all that gives you a picture of - life on the clearing. 3. Who is the principal character in the story? - 4. What caused the mutiny? 5. What ended it? 6. What is the most - interesting point in the story? 7. Read parts that convince you that - Kipling knows the characteristics of the elephant. 8. Find instances - where he exaggerates the intelligence of the elephant, giving it - human characteristics. 9. Does this add to or take from the interest - of the story? 10. Read parts in which humor is shown in dialogue or - incident. 11. Tell in your own words the main incident. 12. What do - you like about this story? 13. Tell what you know of the author. 14. - Pronounce the following: orgy; draughts; devastating; amateur; deign. - - =Phrases= - - happy medium, 27, 5 - absolute property, 27, 11 - the case under native rule, 27, 12 - liver of his soul, 27, 22 - draughts that led nowhere, 28, 22 - ways of nativedom, 28, 27 - with an inspiration, 29, 8 - inconsiderable interval, 29, 18 - mighty tusker, 29, 22 - domestic emotions, 30, 26 - savage caresses, 30, 28 - of his own caste, 30, 31 - adornment of all India, 31, 5 - forebent ears, 31, 14 - badge of his authority, 32, 2 - amateur inspection, 32, 8 - inalienable rights, 32, 13 - fascinating crook, 32, 22 - grumbling soliloquies, 33, 3 - blared across the shallows, 33, 9 - - -THE ELEPHANTS THAT STRUCK - -SAMUEL WHITE BAKER - -I remember an occasion many years ago when in Ceylon I, in connection -with my brother, had organized a scheme for the development of a mountain -sanitarium at Newera Ellia. We had a couple of tame elephants employed -in various works; but it was necessary to obtain the assistance of the -government stables for the transport of very heavy machinery, which could -not be conveyed in the ordinary native carts. There were accordingly a -large number of elephant wagons drawn by their colossal teams, some of -which required four elephants. - -It was the wet season upon the mountains. Our settlement was 6200 feet -above the sea, and the zigzag pass from Ramboddé, at the base of the -steep ascent, was fifteen miles in length. The crest of the pass was 7000 -feet in altitude, from which we descended 800 feet to the Newera Ellia -plain. - -The elephant wagons having arrived at Ramboddé from Colombo, about -100 miles distant, commenced the heavy uphill journey. The rain was -unceasing, the roads were soft, and the heavily laden wagons sank deeply -in the ruts; but the elephants were mighty beasts, and, laying their -weight against the work, they slowly dragged the vehicles up the yielding -and narrow way. - -The abrupt zigzags bothered the long wagons and their still longer teams. -The bridges over dangerous chasms entailed the necessity of unloading the -heavier carts, and caused great delay. Day after day passed away; but -although the ascent was slow, the wagons still moved upwards, and the -region of everlasting mist (at that season) was reached. Dense forests -clothed the mountain sides; the roar of waterfalls resounded in the -depths of black ravines; tangled bamboo grass crept upwards from the wet -soil into the lower branches of the moss-covered trees, and formed a -green curtain impenetrable to sight. - -The thermometer fell daily as the altitude increased. The elephants began -to sicken; two fine animals died. There was plenty of food, as the bamboo -grass was the natural provender, and in the carts was a good supply of -paddy; but the elephants’ intelligence was acting against them—they had -reasoned, and had become despondent. - -For nine or ten days they had been exposed to ceaseless wet and cold, -dragging their unmanageable wagons up a road that even in dry weather was -insufficient to sustain the weight. The wheels sank deep below the metal -foundation, and became hopelessly imbedded. Again and again the wagons -had to be emptied of their contents, and extra elephants were taken from -other carts and harnessed to the empty wagons, which were by sheer weight -of animals dragged from the deep mire. - -Thus the time had passed, and the elephants had evidently reasoned -upon the situation, and had concluded that there was no summit to the -mountain, and no end to the steep and horrible ascent; it would be, -therefore, useless to persevere in unavailing efforts. They determined, -under these heart-breaking circumstances, to strike work; and they did -strike. - -One morning a couple of the elephant drivers appeared at my house in -Newera Ellia, and described the situation. They declared that it was -absolutely impossible to induce the elephants to work; they had given it -up as a bad job! - -I immediately mounted my horse and rode up the pass, and then descended -the road upon the other side, timing the distance by my watch. Rather -under two miles from the summit I found the road completely blocked with -elephant carts and wagons; the animals were grazing upon bamboo grass -in the thick forest; the rain was drizzling, and a thick mist increased -the misery of the scene. I ordered four elephants to be harnessed to a -cart intended for only one animal. This was quickly effected, and the -drivers were soon astride the animals’ necks, and prodded them with the -persuasive iron hooks. Not an elephant would exert itself to draw. In -vain the drivers, with relentless cruelty, drove the iron points deep -into the poor brutes’ necks and heads, and used every threat of their -vocabulary; the only response was a kind of “marking time” on the part -of the elephants, which simply moved their legs mechanically up and down, -and swung their trunks to and fro; but none would pull or exert the -slightest power, neither did they move forward a single inch! - -I never saw such an instance of passive and determined obstinacy; the -case was hopeless. - -An idea struck me. I ordered the drivers to detach the four elephants -from the harness, and to ride them thus unfettered up the pass, -following behind my horse. It appeared to me that if the elephants were -heart-broken, and in despair at the apparently interminable mountain -pass, it would be advisable to let them know the actual truth, by showing -them that they were hardly two miles from the summit, where they would -exchange their uphill labor for a descent into Newera Ellia; they should -then have an extra feed, with plenty of jaggery (a coarse brown sugar). -If they passed an agreeable night, with the best of food and warm -quarters, they would possibly return on the following day to their work, -and with lighter hearts would put their shoulders to the wheel, instead -of yielding to a dogged attitude of despair. - -The success of this ruse was perfect. The elephants accompanied me to -Newera Ellia, and were well fed and cared for. On the following day we -returned to the heavy work, and I myself witnessed their start with the -hitherto unyielding wagon. Not only did they exert their full powers, -and drag the lumbering load straight up the fatiguing hill without -the slightest hesitation, but their example, or some unaccountable -communication between them, appeared to give general encouragement. -I employed the most willing elephants as extras to each wagon, which -they drew to the summit of the pass, and then returned to assist the -others—thus completing what had been pronounced by the drivers as -utterly impossible. There can be no doubt that the elephants had at once -perceived the situation, and in consequence recovered their lost courage. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Samuel White Baker (1821-1893) was an English engineer. - At the age of twenty-four he went to Ceylon, where he founded an - agricultural settlement. He soon became known as an explorer and - a hunter of big game. With his wife he explored the region of the - Nile, and later discovered the lake now called Albert Nyanza. His - explorations in this part of central Africa were a part of the - thrilling story of the discovery of the sources of the Nile, and of - the opening of this region to civilization. To know the complete - story of these explorations you should read something about Henry - M. Stanley and David Livingstone. An interesting book covering - explorations in Africa is Bayard Taylor’s _Central Africa_. - - Upon his return to England, Baker was greatly honored. He was - knighted and sent to Egypt, where he was commissioned by the Khedive - to suppress the slave traffic and establish regular trade. Later he - explored and hunted in Cyprus, Syria, India, Japan, and the United - States. He is the author of _Wild Beasts and Their Ways_, _The Rifle - and the Hound in Ceylon_, and _True Tales for My Grandsons_, from - which this selection was taken. - - =Discussion.= 1. Locate Ceylon on a map. 2. In what work were the - elephants engaged when they became discouraged? 3. Why was the climb - particularly difficult at this season? 4. What ruse was employed? 5. - What success attended the plan? 6. Pronounce: vehicles; chasm; ruse; - fatiguing. - - =Phrases= - - colossal teams, 35, 8 - entailed the necessity, 35, 23 - natural provender, 36, 3 - intelligence was acting against, 36, 5 - by sheer weight, 36, 13 - reasoned upon the situation, 36, 16 - persuasive iron hooks, 36, 34 - marking time, 37, 1 - passive obstinacy, 37, 5 - unaccountable communication, 37, 27 - - - - -BIRDS - -[Illustration] - - -ROBERT OF LINCOLN - -WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT - - Merrily swinging on brier and weed, - Near to the nest of his little dame, - Over the mountain side or mead, - Robert of Lincoln is telling his name: - “Bob-o’-link, bob-o’-link, - Spink, spank, spink; - Snug and safe is this nest of ours, - Hidden among the summer flowers, - Chee, chee, chee!” - - Robert of Lincoln is gayly dressed, - Wearing a bright, black wedding coat; - White are his shoulders, and white his crest, - Hear him call in his merry note: - “Bob-o’-link, bob-o’-link, - Spink, spank, spink; - Look what a nice new coat is mine; - Sure, there was never a bird so fine. - Chee, chee, chee!” - - Robert of Lincoln’s Quaker wife, - Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, - Passing at home a patient life, - Broods in the grass while her husband sings: - “Bob-o’-link, bob-o’-link, - Spink, spank, spink; - Brood, kind creature; you need not fear - Thieves and robbers while I am here. - Chee, chee, chee!” - - Modest and shy as a nun is she; - One weak chirp is her only note; - Braggart, and prince of braggarts is he, - Pouring boasts from his little throat: - “Bob-o’-link, bob-o’-link, - Spink, spank, spink; - Never was I afraid of man, - Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can. - Chee, chee, chee!” - - Six white eggs on a bed of hay, - Flecked with purple, a pretty sight, - There, as the mother sits all day, - Robert is singing with all his might: - “Bob-o’-link, bob-o’-link, - Spink, spank, spink; - Nice good wife that never goes out, - Keeping house while I frolic about. - Chee, chee, chee!” - - Soon as the little ones chip the shell, - Six wide mouths are open for food; - Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well, - Gathering seeds for the hungry brood. - “Bob-o’-link, bob-o’-link, - Spink, spank, spink; - This new life is likely to be - Hard for a gay young fellow like me. - Chee, chee, chee!” - - Robert of Lincoln at length is made - Sober with work, and silent with care, - Off his holiday garment laid, - Half forgotten that merry air: - “Bob-o’-link, bob-o’-link, - Spink, spank, spink; - Nobody knows but my mate and I, - Where our nest and our nestlings lie. - Chee, chee, chee!” - - Summer wanes; the children are grown; - Fun and frolic no more he knows, - Robert of Lincoln’s a humdrum crone; - Off he flies, and we sing as he goes: - “Bob-o’-link, bob-o’-link, - Spink, spank, spink; - When you can pipe that merry old strain, - Robert of Lincoln, come back again. - Chee, chee, chee!” - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878) was the first great - American poet. He was reared among the rugged Berkshire Hills of - western Massachusetts. Outside the district school, he had little - teaching except that given by his mother and what he gave himself - through the excellent library of his father, who was a country - physician. He grew up in close touch with nature and the simple farm - surroundings, and this lonely life may have tended to make him rather - more serious and thoughtful than most boys of his age. By the time - he was nine years old he was putting his thoughts into verse in the - stately fashion of the English poets of that time. In 1811, when yet - scarcely eighteen, he wrote “Thanatopsis,” now one of the world’s - classics. - - By this time he had studied two years at a private school and seven - months at Williams College. He was ambitious to continue his studies - at Yale, but his father’s circumstances compelled him to give up that - hope and to face the immediate problem of earning his own living. He - studied law and was admitted to practice in 1815. After a few years - he went to New York, where in 1825 he became editor of the _Evening - Post_—a position which he continued to fill with distinction for more - than half a century, until his death in 1878. - - And yet this busy editor of a great city newspaper found leisure - from time to time to cultivate his love for verse and to continue to - write poetry. His poems were popular with Americans because he chose - for the most part American subjects taken from his own immediate - surroundings and experience—the scenes and impressions of his - boyhood, the flowers, the birds, the hills, the climate of his own - New England. - - America’s first men of letters whose writings proved that the new - republic could produce a literature worthy to be compared with that - of the mother country were James Fenimore Cooper, writer of Indian - tales; Washington Irving, writer of legends about America and the - sketches about our old English home; and William Cullen Bryant. - Cooper showed the strangeness and romance of frontier life. Irving - tried to give to America the romantic background that the new country - lacked. Bryant opened men’s eyes to the beauty of nature. - - Though Bryant was eleven years younger than Irving, his “Thanatopsis” - was written only two years after Irving’s “Knickerbocker.” - - =Note.= The bobolink is an American song bird. In the spring the - male is mostly black and white, while the female is streaked with - yellowish brown. In midsummer the male bobolink molts, taking on - “plain brown” plumage like that of his “Quaker wife.” In the spring - he regains his black and buff colors without molting any feathers. - He sings only in the spring. The bobolink makes long migrations - extending from Canada to Paraguay, and in the late autumn collects in - large flocks which feed in the rice fields of the South, where he is - known as the _ricebird_, or _reedbird_. - - =Discussion.= 1. Read the lines that imitate the song of the - bobolink. 2. Describe the dress of Robert of Lincoln and that of his - “Quaker wife.” 3. How does her song differ from his? 4. What are the - work and the care that make him silent? 5. How does the poet account - for the change in his appearance as the season advances? 6. Where - does he go for winter? When will he come again? - - =Phrases= - - prince of braggarts, 40, 12 - chip the shell, 40, 28 - bestirs him well, 40, 30 - summer wanes, 41, 15 - humdrum crone, 41, 17 - pipe that merry old strain, 41, 21 - - -THE MARYLAND YELLOW-THROAT - -HENRY VAN DYKE - -From _Poems of Henry van Dyke_; copyright 1897, 1911, by Charles -Scribner’s Sons. By permission of the publishers. - - While May bedecks the naked trees - With tassels and embroideries, - And many blue-eyed violets beam - Along the edges of the stream, - I hear a voice that seems to say, - Now near at hand, now far away, - “_Witchery—witchery—witchery!_” - - An incantation so serene, - So innocent, befits the scene: - There’s magic in that small bird’s note— - See, there he flits—the Yellow-Throat; - A living sunbeam, tipped with wings, - A spark of light that shines and sings - “_Witchery—witchery—witchery!_” - - You prophet with a pleasant name, - If out of Mary-land you came, - You know the way that thither goes - Where Mary’s lovely garden grows; - Fly swiftly back to her, I pray, - And try to call her down this way, - “_Witchery—witchery—witchery!_” - - Tell her to leave her cockle-shells, - And all her little silver bells - That blossom into melody, - And all her maids less fair than she. - She does not need these pretty things, - For everywhere she comes, she brings - “_Witchery—witchery—witchery!_” - - The woods are greening overhead, - And flowers adorn each mossy bed; - The waters babble as they run— - One thing is lacking, only one: - If Mary were but here today, - I would believe your charming lay, - “_Witchery—witchery—witchery!_” - - Along the shady road I look— - Who’s coming now across the brook? - A woodland maid, all robed in white— - The leaves dance round her with delight, - The stream laughs out beneath her feet—, - Sing, merry bird, the charm’s complete, - “_Witchery—witchery—witchery!_” - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Henry van Dyke (1852-⸺) was born in Germantown, which is - now a part of the city of Philadelphia. When a small boy, his parents - moved to Brooklyn. He was graduated from Princeton College in 1873 - and from the Princeton Theological Seminary in 1877. For several - years he was pastor of the Brick Presbyterian Church in New York - City. Later he was made professor of English Literature at Princeton - University, which position he still holds. In 1913 Dr. van Dyke was - appointed United States Minister to Holland, where he lived during - the early years of the World War. He has written many stories and - poems of great literary charm. - - =Discussion.= 1. What bird does the poet celebrate in this poem? - 2. What pictures does the first stanza give you? 3. What does the - Yellow-Throat seem to say? 4. Make a list of all the names by which - the poet speaks of the bird. 5. What fancy does the poet express in - the third and fourth stanzas? 6. What does the poet say is wanting to - make the day’s charm complete? 7. Which stanza do you like best? 8. - What is the name of the “woodland maid”? - - =Phrases= - - May bedecks the naked trees, 43, 1 - incantation so serene, 43, 8 - befits the scene, 43, 9 - living sunbeam, 43, 12 - you prophet, 43, 15 - blossom into melody, 43, 24 - the woods are greening, 44, 1 - charming lay, 44, 6 - - -THE BELFRY PIGEON - -NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS - - On the cross-beam under the Old South bell, - The nest of a pigeon is builded well. - In summer and winter, that bird is there, - Out and in with the morning air. - - I love to see him track the street - With his wary eye and active feet; - And I often watch him, as he springs, - Circling the steeple with easy wings, - Till across the dial his shade has passed, - And the belfry edge is gained at last. - - ’Tis a bird I love, with its brooding note, - And the trembling throb in its mottled throat; - There’s a human look in its swelling breast, - And the gentle curve of its lowly crest; - And I often stop with the fear I feel, - He runs so close to the rapid wheel. - Whatever is rung on that noisy bell, - Chime of the hour, or funeral knell, - The dove in the belfry must hear it well. - - When the tongue swings out to the midnight moon, - When the sexton cheerily rings for noon, - When the clock strikes clear at morning light, - When the child is waked with “nine at night,” - When the chimes play soft in the Sabbath air, - Filling the spirit with tones of prayer, - Whatever tale in the bell is heard, - He broods on his folded feet unstirred, - Or, rising half in his rounded nest, - He takes the time to smooth his breast; - Then drops again, with filméd eyes, - And sleeps as the last vibration dies. - - Sweet bird! I would that I could be - A hermit in the crowd, like thee! - With wings to fly to wood and glen, - Thy lot, like mine, is cast with men; - And, daily, with unwilling feet, - I tread, like thee, the crowded street; - But, unlike me, when day is o’er, - Thou canst dismiss the world, and soar; - Or, at a half-felt wish for rest, - Canst smooth the feathers on thy breast, - And drop, forgetful, to thy nest. - - I would that, on such wings of gold, - I could my weary heart upfold; - I would I could look down unmoved - (Unloving as I am unloved), - And while the world throngs on beneath, - Smooth down my cares and calmly breathe; - And, never sad with others’ sadness, - And never glad with others’ gladness, - Listen, unstirred, to knell or chime, - And, lapped in quiet, bide my time. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biographical and Historical Note.= Nathaniel Parker Willis - (1806-1867) was a native of Portland, Maine, and a graduate of Yale - College. He was born one year earlier than Longfellow, and lived most - of his life in New York City, being one of a small group of writers - known as “The Knickerbockers,” who for many years made New York - the literary center of the country. His father, the Rev. Nathaniel - Willis, established in Boston _The Youth’s Companion._ - - “Old South” is the name of a church in Boston, in which public - meetings were held at the time of the Revolutionary War. It is now - used as a museum of historic collections. - - =Discussion.= 1. What do the first two stanzas tell you about the - bird? 2. Name the various sounds of the bell that the poet mentions. - 3. What comparison is found in the fifth stanza? 4. Compare the last - stanza of “The Sandpiper” with the last stanza of this poem and tell - which you like the better. 5. Can you give a reason why the pigeon is - made the hero of this poem? - - =Phrases= - - track the street, 45, 5 - wary eye, 45, 6 - easy wings, 45, 8 - nine at night, 45, 23 - filméd eyes, 46, 3 - hermit in the crowd, 46, 6 - thy lot is cast with men, 46, 8 - with unwilling feet, 46, 9 - dismiss the world, 46, 12 - half-felt wish for rest, 46, 13 - weary heart upfold, 46, 17 - throngs on beneath, 46, 20 - lapped in quiet, 46, 25 - bide my time, 46, 25 - - -THE SANDPIPER - -CELIA THAXTER - - Across the lonely beach we flit, - One little sandpiper and I; - And fast I gather, bit by bit, - The scattered driftwood, bleached and dry. - The wild waves reach their hands for it, - The wild wind raves, the tide runs high, - As up and down the beach we flit, - One little sandpiper and I. - - Above our heads the sullen clouds - Scud, black and swift, across the sky; - Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds - Stand out the white lighthouses high. - Almost as far as eye can reach - I see the close-reefed vessels fly, - As fast we flit along the beach, - One little sandpiper and I. - - I watch him as he skims along, - Uttering his sweet and mournful cry: - He starts not at my fitful song, - Nor flash of fluttering drapery. - He has no thought of any wrong, - He scans me with a fearless eye; - Stanch friends are we, well tried and strong, - The little sandpiper and I. - - Comrade, where wilt thou be tonight, - When the loosed storm breaks furiously? - My driftwood fire will burn so bright! - To what warm shelter canst thou fly? - I do not fear for thee, though wroth - The tempest rushes through the sky; - For are we not God’s children both, - Thou, little sandpiper, and I? - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Celia Thaxter (1835-1894), whose father was a lighthouse - keeper on White Island, one of the rocky isles known as the “Isles - of Shoals,” off the coast of New Hampshire, had the ocean for her - companion in her early years. She studied the sunrise and the sunset, - the wild flowers, the birds, the rocks, and all sea life. This - selection shows how intimate was her friendship with the bird life of - the ocean. - - =Discussion.= 1. The poet and the sandpiper were comrades; in - the first stanza, what tells you this? 2. Which lines give you a - picture that might be used to illustrate this poem? 3. What common - experiences did the poet and the bird have? 4. Give a quotation from - the poem that describes the sandpiper and his habits. 5. What effect - have the repetitions of the second line of the poem at the end of - the first and second stanzas and the variations of it at the end of - the third and fourth stanzas? 6. Which lines express confidence in - God’s care for His children? 7. What classes of “God’s children” do - “little sandpiper” and “I,” respectively, represent? 8. Pronounce the - following: stanch; loosed; wroth. - - =Phrases= - - silent ghosts in misty shrouds, 47, 11 - close-reefed vessels, 47, 14 - my fitful song, 48. 3 - flash of fluttering drapery, 48, 4 - loosed storm breaks furiously, 48, 10 - wroth the tempest rushes, 48, 13 - - -THE THROSTLE - -ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON - - “Summer is coming, summer is coming, - I know it, I know it, I know it. - Light again, leaf again, life again, love again!” - Yes, my wild little Poet. - - Sing the new year in under the blue. - Last year you sang it as gladly. - “New, new, new, new!” Is it then so new - That you should carol so madly? - - “Love again, song again, nest again, young again!” - Never a prophet so crazy! - And hardly a daisy as yet, little friend, - See, there is hardly a daisy. - - “Here again, here, here, here, happy year!” - O warble unchidden, unbidden! - Summer is coming, is coming, my dear, - And all the winters are hidden. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-1892) was poet laureate of - England, succeeding Wordsworth. This means that he was appointed - to write poems about matters of national interest, such as his ode - on the death of the Duke of Wellington; and that he also expressed - something of the national spirit of England, as in his poems about - King Arthur (_The Idylls of the King_) and in many poems about his - native land. He was born in Lincolnshire and studied at Trinity - College, Cambridge. He lived a quiet life and devoted himself to - poetry, in which he excelled in beauty of expression and choice of - words. You will learn to know him as a teller of tales in verse, - these tales being both modern ballads and romances about King Arthur; - as a writer of many lovely song-poems or lyrics; and as a poet of - religious faith. - - =Note.= The song-thrush, or throstle, is found in most parts of - England, and is one of the finest songsters in Europe. Its note is - rich and mellow. This is the bird of which Browning wrote, - - “He sings each song twice over, - Lest you should think he never could recapture - The first fine careless rapture!” - - =Discussion.= 1. Which lines in the first stanza represent the song - of the bird? 2. Which line gives Tennyson’s answer to the throstle? - 3. Point out the words in the poem that represent the bird’s song. 4. - Which lines tell you that Tennyson did not share the little bird’s - hope? 5, What do the last two lines show that the bird did for the - poet? - - =Phrases= - - wild little Poet, 49, 4 - carol so madly, 49, 8 - never a prophet so crazy, 49, 10 - winters are hidden, 49, 16 - - -TO THE CUCKOO - -WILLIAM WORDSWORTH - - O blithe newcomer! I have heard, - I hear thee and rejoice; - O cuckoo! shall I call thee bird, - Or but a wandering voice? - - While I am lying on the grass, - Thy twofold shout I hear; - From hill to hill it seems to pass, - At once far off and near. - - Though babbling only to the vale, - Of sunshine and of flowers, - Thou bringest unto me a tale - Of visionary hours. - - Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring! - Even yet thou art to me - No bird, but an invisible thing, - A voice, a mystery; - - The same whom in my schoolboy days - I listened to; that cry - Which made me look a thousand ways, - In bush, and tree, and sky. - - To seek thee did I often rove - Through woods and on the green; - And thou wert still a hope, a love; - Still long’d for, never seen! - - And I can listen to thee yet; - Can lie upon the plain - And listen, till I do beget - That golden time again. - - O blesséd bird! the earth we pace, - Again appears to be - An unsubstantial, fairy place, - That is fit home for thee! - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= William Wordsworth (1770-1850) was born in the beautiful - Cumberland Highlands of northern England, which furnished the - inspiration for most of his poetry. While still a young man, he - retired to the beautiful Lake Country of northern England, where - he lived a simple life. He was devoted to the cause of liberty; he - was a believer in the beauty and charm of the humble life; he often - wrote about peasants rather than about lords and ladies and knights - of romance. His flower poems and bird poems show the simplicity and - sincerity of his nature. - - =Note.= The cuckoo is a European bird noted for its two-syllable - whistle, in imitation of which it is named; also for its habit of - laying eggs in the nests of other birds for them to hatch, instead of - building a nest of its own. - - =Discussion.= 1. Why does the poet call the cuckoo “a wandering - voice”? 2. What other names does the poet call the cuckoo? 3. To - what habit of the cuckoo does this poem call attention? 4. Why does - the poet say a “fairy place” is a fit home for the cuckoo? 5. What - “golden time” is mentioned? - - =Phrases= - - thy twofold shout, 50, 6 - at once far off and near, 50, 8 - tale of visionary hours, 50, 11 - beget that golden time again, 51, 11 - - -THE BIRDS’ ORCHESTRA - -CELIA THAXTER - - Bobolink shall play the violin, - Great applause to win; - Lonely, sweet, and sad, the meadow-lark - Plays the oboe. Hark! - Yellow-bird the clarionet shall play, - Blithe, and clear, and gay. - Purple-finch what instrument will suit? - He can play the flute. - Fire-winged blackbirds sound the merry fife, - Soldiers without strife; - And the robins wind the mellow horn - Loudly, eve and morn. - Who shall clash the cymbals? Jay and crow, - That is all they know; - And, to roll the deep melodious drum, - Lo! the bull-frogs come. - Then the splendid chorus! Who shall sing - Of so fine a thing? - Who the names of the performers call - Truly, one and all? - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 48. - - =Discussion.= 1. What instruments compose the birds’ orchestra? 2. - Why does the poet say the jay and crow are assigned to the cymbals? - 3. Explain: “fire-winged” blackbirds. 4. What leads you to think that - the author knew those birds intimately? 5. Do you think the chorus - would be pleasing? 6. What assignments do you think are particularly - apt? - - =Phrases= - - soldiers without strife, 52, 10 - wind the mellow horn, 52, 11 - clash the cymbals, 52, 13 - roll the deep melodious drum, 52, 15 - - - - -FLOWERS AND TREES - -[Illustration] - - -TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN - -WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT - - Thou blossom, bright with autumn dew, - And colored with the heaven’s own blue, - That openest when the quiet light - Succeeds the keen and frosty night; - - Thou comest not when violets lean - O’er wandering brooks and springs unseen, - Or columbines, in purple dressed, - Nod o’er the ground bird’s hidden nest. - - Thou waitest late, and com’st alone, - When woods are bare and birds are flown, - And frosts and shortening days portend - The aged year is near his end. - - Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye - Look through its fringes to the sky, - Blue—blue—as if that sky let fall - A flower from its cerulean wall. - - I would that thus, when I shall see - The hour of death draw near to me, - Hope, blossoming within my heart, - May look to heaven as I depart. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 41. - - =Discussion.= 1. To whom is this poem addressed? 2. What words tell - you the time of year that the fringed gentian blooms? 3. What words - does the poet use to tell the color of the gentian? 4. When does it - open? 5. What words does Bryant use to mean early morning? 6. When - do violets come and in what kind of soil do they grow? 7. What words - in the poem tell you this? 8. What does the poet tell you about the - violets when he says they “lean,” and about the columbine when he - says it “nods”? 9. What signs of approaching winter does the poet - mention? 10. Why does the poet repeat “blue” in the third line of - stanza 4? 11. Of what is this color a symbol? 12. To what in his life - does Bryant compare the end of the year? 13. In this comparison what - does the little flower represent? - - =Phrases= - - heaven’s own blue, 53, 2 - quiet light succeeds, 53, 3 - shortening days portend, 53, 11 - cerulean wall, 53, 16 - - -VIOLET! SWEET VIOLET! - -JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL - - Violet! sweet violet! - Thine eyes are full of tears; - Are they wet - Even yet - With the thought of other years? - Or with gladness are they full, - For the night so beautiful, - And longing for those far-off spheres? - - Loved-one of my youth thou wast, - Of my merry youth, - And I see, - Tearfully, - All the fair and sunny past, - All its openness and truth, - Ever fresh and green in thee - As the moss is in the sea. - - Thy little heart, that hath with love - Grown colored like the sky above, - On which thou lookest ever, - Can it know - All the woe - Of hope for what returneth never, - All the sorrow and the longing - To these hearts of ours belonging? - - Out on it! no foolish pining - For the sky - Dims thine eye, - Or for the stars so calmly shining; - Like thee let this soul of mine - Take hue from that wherefor I long, - Self-stayed and high, serene and strong, - Not satisfied with hoping—but divine. - Violet! dear violet! - Thy blue eyes are only wet - With joy and love of him who sent thee, - And for the fulfilling sense - Of that glad obedience - Which made thee all that nature meant thee! - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= James Russell Lowell (1819-1891) came of one of the - oldest and most influential New England families. Born in an - atmosphere of learning, in the old family home in historic Cambridge, - at the very doors of Harvard College, he enjoyed every advantage - for culture that inherited tastes, ample means, and convenient - opportunity could offer. Besides the facilities of the college near - by, his father’s library, in which he roamed at will from his very - infancy, was one of the richest in the whole country. It is not - strange, then, that he grew to be one of the most scholarly Americans - of his time. - - After leaving college he studied law and opened an office in Boston. - He became deeply interested in the political issues of the times - and was thus stirred to his first serious efforts in literature. In - 1848 appeared his “Vision of Sir Launfal,” founded upon the legend - of the Holy Grail, and one of the most spiritually beautiful poems - in any literature. Few patriotic poems surpass his “Commemoration - Ode.” Besides his poetical works he wrote many essays and books of - travel and of criticism. He succeeded Longfellow in his professorship - at Harvard, and was the first editor of the _Atlantic Monthly_. He - served successively as Minister to Spain and to England. - - =Discussion.= 1. In the first stanza, how does the poet account for - the violet’s eyes being “full of tears”? 2. To the poet what does the - violet represent? 3. What vision does the violet bring to the poet? - 4. How does the poet account for the color of the violet? 5. What - change in the poet’s feeling is noted in the fourth stanza? 6. From - what does the poet say his soul must “take hue”? 7. How does the poet - in the last lines of the poem account for the violet’s eyes being - “full of tears”? - - =Phrases= - - far-off spheres, 54, 8 - fair and sunny past, 55, 1 - fulfilling sense, 55, 24 - glad obedience, 55, 25 - - -TO THE DANDELION - -JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL - - Dear common flower, that grow’st beside the way, - Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold, - First pledge of blithesome May, - Which children pluck, and, full of pride, uphold, - High-hearted buccaneers, o’erjoyed that they - An Eldorado in the grass have found, - Which not the rich earth’s ample round - May match in wealth—thou art more dear to me - Than all the prouder summer-blooms may be. - - Gold such as thine ne’er drew the Spanish prow - Through the primeval hush of Indian seas, - Nor wrinkled the lean brow - Of age, to rob the lover’s heart of ease; - ’Tis the spring’s largess, which she scatters now - To rich and poor alike, with lavish hand, - Though most hearts never understand - To take it at God’s value, but pass by - The offered wealth with unrewarded eye. - - Thou art my tropics and mine Italy; - To look at thee unlocks a warmer clime; - The eyes thou givest me - Are in the heart, and heed not space or time; - Not in mid June the golden-cuirassed bee - Feels a more summer-like warm ravishment - In the white lily’s breezy tent, - His fragrant Sybaris, than I, when first - From the dark green thy yellow circles burst. - - Then think I of deep shadows on the grass— - Of meadows where in sun the cattle graze, - Where, as the breezes pass, - The gleaming rushes lean a thousand ways— - Of leaves that slumber in a cloudy mass, - Or whiten in the wind—of waters blue - That from the distance sparkle through - Some woodland gap—and of a sky above, - Where one white cloud like a stray lamb doth move. - - My childhood’s earliest thoughts are linked with thee; - The sight of thee calls back the robin’s song, - Who, from the dark old tree - Beside the door, sang clearly all day long, - And I, secure in childish piety, - Listened as if I heard an angel sing - With news from heaven, which he could bring - Fresh every day to my untainted ears, - When birds and flowers and I were happy peers. - - How like a prodigal doth nature seem, - When thou, for all thy gold, so common art! - Thou teachest me to deem - More sacredly of every human heart, - Since each reflects in joy its scanty gleam - Of heaven, and could some wondrous secret show - Did we but pay the love we owe, - And with a child’s undoubting wisdom look - On all these living pages of God’s book. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 55. - - =Discussion.= 1. In which stanzas does the poet express his love for - the dandelion? 2. Which stanzas tell why the dandelion is so dear to - the poet? 3. Where must the poet have lived to learn what he tells - us in these stanzas? 4. Use your own words for “rich earth’s ample - round.” 5. Name some “prouder summer-blooms.” 6. What gold “drew the - Spanish prow,” and through what “Indian seas”? 7. What gold wrinkles - “the lean brow of age” and robs “the lover’s heart of ease”? How does - the dandelion’s gold differ from it? 8. Explain the last three lines - of stanza 2, and name any other common things we do not value enough. - 9. How can the poet _look_ at the dandelion, but _see_ the tropics - and Italy? 10. What “eyes are in the heart, and heed not space or - time”? 11. Has a poet more vivid imagination than other people? Why? - 12. Compare the expression “eyes are in the heart, and heed not - space or time” with that of Wordsworth in “The Daffodils,” page 59, - lines 21 and 22, “that inward eye which is the bliss of solitude,” - and with that of Trowbridge in “Midwinter,” page 83, lines 15 and - 16, “in my inmost ear is heard the music of a holier bird.” 13. Is - there a similar idea in these expressions? 14. Which do you like - best, “inward eye,” “inmost ear,” or “eyes in the heart”? 15. The - dandelion is compared to gold and to sunshine; which comparison had - the poet in mind in the first two lines of the last stanza? In the - next four lines? 16. The flower reflects its “scanty gleam of heaven” - in glowing color; how can human hearts reflect it? - - =Phrases= - - pledge of blithesome May, 58, 3 - high-hearted buccaneers, 56, 5 - primeval hush, 56, 11 - spring’s largess, 57, 1 - lavish hand, 57, 2 - unrewarded eye, 57, 5 - golden-cuirassed bee, 57, 10 - childish piety, 57, 28 - untainted ears, 57, 31 - living pages, 58, 9 - - -THE DAFFODILS - -WILLIAM WORDSWORTH - - I wandered lonely as a cloud - That floats on high o’er vales and hills, - When all at once I saw a crowd, - A host, of golden daffodils; - Beside the lake, beneath the trees, - Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. - - Continuous as the stars that shine - And twinkle on the milky way, - They stretched in never-ending line - Along the margin of a bay: - Ten thousand saw I at a glance, - Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. - - The waves beside them danced; but they - Outdid the sparkling waves in glee; - A poet could not but be gay - In such a jocund company; - I gazed—and gazed—but little thought - What wealth the show to me had brought; - - For oft when on my couch I lie - In vacant or in pensive mood, - They flash upon that inward eye - Which is the bliss of solitude; - And then my heart with pleasure fills, - And dances with the daffodils. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 51. - - =Discussion.= 1. What picture do the first two stanzas give you? 2. - To whom does “I” refer? 3. Point out the comparison and the things - compared in stanza 1; in stanza 2. 4. Why does the poet use the - word “host” when he has already spoken of a “crowd”? 5. Explain the - peculiar fitness of the word “sprightly.” 6. What lines particularly - express life and gayety? - - -THE TRAILING ARBUTUS - -JOHN G. WHITTIER - - I wandered lonely where the pine-trees made - Against the bitter East their barricade, - And, guided by its sweet - Perfume, I found, within a narrow dell, - The trailing spring flower tinted like a shell - Amid dry leaves and mosses at my feet. - - From under dead boughs, for whose loss the pines - Moaned ceaseless overhead, the blossoming vines - Lifted their glad surprise, - While yet the bluebird smoothed in leafless trees - His feathers ruffled by the chill sea-breeze, - And snow-drifts lingered under April skies. - - As, pausing o’er the lonely flower I bent, - I thought of lives thus lowly, clogged, and pent, - Which yet find room, - Through care and cumber, coldness and decay, - To lend a sweetness to the ungenial day, - And make the sad earth happier for their bloom. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892) was born near the - little town of Haverhill, Massachusetts, in the same county as Salem, - the birthplace of Hawthorne. The old farmhouse in which Whittier was - born was built by the poet’s great-great-grandfather. It still stands - to mark the site of the old home. His family were Quakers, sturdy of - stature as of character. Whittier’s boyhood was in complete contrast - to that of Lowell or Longfellow. He led the life of a typical New - England farm boy, used to hard work, no luxuries, and few pleasures. - His library consisted of practically one book, the family Bible, - which was later supplemented by a copy of Burns’s poems, loaned - him by the district schoolmaster. Whittier is often compared with - Burns in the simple homeliness of his style, his patriotism, his - fiery indignation at wrong, and his sympathy with the humble and the - oppressed. - - =Discussion.= 1. Where did the poet find “the trailing spring - flower”? 2. Have you found it? Where? When? 3. What beautiful thought - came to the poet while he bent over the arbutus? 4. Have you known - lowly lives that made the earth happier by their presence? 5. The - poet _found_ the lowly flower that lends “sweetness to the ungenial - day”; can we find the lowly person who “makes the earth happier”? 6. - What does Nature teach through the lowly trailing arbutus? 7. What - other selections by this author have you read? - - =Phrases= - - bitter East, 60, 2 - glad surprise, 60, 9 - clogged, and pent, 60, 14 - ungenial day, 60, 17 - - -TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY - -ROBERT BURNS - - Wee, modest, crimson-tippèd flow’r, - Thou’s met me in an evil hour; - For I maun[1] I crush amang the stoure[2] - Thy slender stem. - To spare thee now is past my pow’r, - Thou bonnie[3] gem. - - Alas! it’s no thy neebor sweet, - The bonnie Lark, companion meet, - Bending thee ’mang the dewy weet,[4] - Wi’ speckl’d breast! - When upward-springing, blythe, to greet - The purpling east. - - Cauld blew the bitter-biting north - Upon thy early, humble birth; - Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth - Amid the storm, - Scarce rear’d above the parent-earth - Thy tender form. - - The flaunting flow’rs our gardens yield, - High shelt’ring woods and wa’s[5] maun shield. - But thou, beneath the random bield[6] - O’ clod or stane, - Adorns the histie[7] stibble[8]-field, - Unseen, alane. - - There, in thy scanty mantle clad, - Thy snawie bosom sunward spread, - Thou lifts thy unassuming head - In humble guise; - But now the share uptears thy bed, - And low thou lies! - - Such is the fate of simple Bard, - On life’s rough ocean luckless starr’d! - Unskillful he to note the card[9] - Of prudent lore, - Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, - And whelm him o’er! - - Such fate to suffering worth is giv’n, - Who long with wants and woes has striv’n, - By human pride or cunning driv’n - To mis’ry’s brink, - Till wrench’d of ev’ry stay but Heav’n, - He, ruin’d, sink! - - Ev’n thou who mourn’st the Daisy’s fate, - That fate is thine—no distant date; - Stern Ruin’s plowshare drives, elate, - Full on thy bloom, - Till crush’d beneath the furrow’s weight - Shall be thy doom! - -[1] _maun_, must. - -[2] _stoure_, dust. - -[3] _bonnie_, pretty. - -[4] _weet_, wet. - -[5] _wa’s_, walls. - -[6] _bield_, shelter. - -[7] _histie_, barren. - -[8] _stibble_, stubble. - -[9] _card_, compass-face. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Robert Burns (1759-1796) was a Scottish poet, whose home - was near Ayr, in Scotland. His life was short and filled with poverty - and hardship, but he saw beauty in the common things of life and had - a heart full of sympathy. He wrote this poem at a time when he was in - great trouble. His farm was turning out badly, the soil was sour and - wet, his crops were failures, and he saw nothing but ruin before him. - Burns’s tenderness and sympathy are shown in the feeling expressed in - this poem at crushing the flower. - - =Discussion.= 1. How does the English daisy, which Burns describes - in the first line of the poem, differ from the daisy that you know, - the American daisy? 2. Select and give the meaning of words that - illustrate Burns’s use of the Scotch dialect. 3. Picture the incident - related in the first stanza. 4. What do you know about the lark that - helps you to understand why it is called the daisy’s “companion” - and “neebor”? 5. What comparison is made between the daisy and the - garden flowers? 6. What “share” is mentioned in stanza 5? 7. What - characteristic of the flower does Burns seem to like best? - - =Phrases= - - companion meet, 61, 8 - purpling east, 61, 12 - glinted forth, 61, 15 - parent-earth, 61, 17 - unassuming head, 62, 9 - humble guise, 62, 10 - luckless starr’d, 62, 14 - prudent lore, 62, 16 - - -SWEET PEAS - -JOHN KEATS - - Here are sweet peas, on tiptoe for a flight, - With wings of gentle flush o’er delicate white, - And taper fingers catching at all things, - To bind them all about with tiny rings. - Linger a while upon some bending planks - That lean against a streamlet’s rushy banks, - And watch intently Nature’s gentle doings; - They will be found softer than ringdove’s cooings. - How silent comes the water round that bend! - Not the minutest whisper does it send - To the o’erhanging sallows; blades of grass - Slowly across the checkered shadows pass. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= John Keats (1795-1821) was of humble birth, being the - son of a London stablekeeper. He lived at the time of Wordsworth, - Byron, Shelley, and Leigh Hunt, from all of whom he gathered - inspiration. His years were few, and his fame did not come while he - was living. He had a passion for beauty, which found expression in - all his poetry. On account of failing health he went to Rome in 1820, - where he died the year following. - - =Discussion.= 1. Why does the poet say sweet peas are “on tiptoe for - a flight”? 2. What are the wings of the sweet pea? 3. The poet tells - of the perfect stillness of the moving water in the stream; what - words does he use in lines immediately preceding to prepare you for - this stillness? 4. What picture does the last sentence of the poem - give you? - - =Phrases= - - rushy banks, 63, 6 - ringdove’s cooings, 63, 8 - o’erhanging sallows, 63, 11 - checkered shadows, 63, 12 - - -CHORUS OF FLOWERS - -LEIGH HUNT - - We are the sweet flowers, - Born of sunny showers; - Think, whene’er you see us, what our beauty saith; - Utterance, mute and bright, - Of some unknown delight, - We fill the air with pleasure by our simple breath. - All who see us love us. - We befit all places. - Unto sorrow we give smiles, and unto graces, graces. - - Mark our ways, how noiseless - All, and sweetly voiceless, - Though the March winds pipe to make our passage clear; - Not a whisper tells - Where our small seed dwells, - Nor is known the moment green when our tips appear. - We thread the earth in silence; - In silence build our bowers; - And leaf by leaf in silence show, till we laugh atop sweet flowers. - - See and scorn all duller! - Taste how Heaven loves color! - How great Nature, clearly, joys in red and green! - What sweet thoughts she thinks - Of violets and pinks, - And a thousand flashing hues made solely to be seen; - See her whitest lilies - Chill the silver showers; - And what a red mouth has her rose, the woman of her flowers! - - Uselessness divinest, - Of a use the finest, - Painteth us, the teachers of the end of use. - Travelers, weary-eyed, - Bless us far and wide; - Unto sick and prisoned thoughts we give sudden truce. - Not a poor town window - Loves its sickliest planting, - But its wall speaks loftier truth than Babylonian vaunting. - - Sagest yet the uses - Mixed with our sweet juices, - Whether man or may-fly profits of the balm. - As fairy fingers healed - Knights of the olden field, - We hold cups of mightiest force to give the wildest calm. - E’en the terror, poison, - Hath its plea for blooming; - Life it gives to reverent lips, though death to the presuming. - - And oh! our sweet soul-taker, - That thief, the honey-maker, - What a house hath he by the thymy glen! - In his talking rooms - How the feasting fumes, - Till his gold-cups overflow to the mouths of men! - The butterflies come aping - Those fine thieves of ours, - And flutter round our rifled tops like tickled flowers with flowers. - - See those tops, how beauteous! - What fair service duteous - Round some idol waits, as on their lord the Nine? - Elfin court ’twould seem, - And taught, perchance, that dream - Which the old Greek mountain dreamt upon nights divine; - To expound such wonder, - Human speech avails not, - Yet there dies no poorest weed that such a glory exhales not. - - Think of all these treasures, - Matchless works and pleasures, - Every one a marvel, more than thought can say; - Then think in what bright showers - We thicken fields and bowers, - And with what heaps of sweetness half stifle wanton May. - Think of the mossy forests - By the bee-birds haunted, - And all those Amazonian plains, lone lying, as enchanted. - - Trees themselves are ours; - Fruits are born of flowers; - Peach and roughest nut were blossoms in the spring. - The lusty bee knows well - The news, and comes pell-mell - And dances in the bloomy thicks with darksome antheming. - Beneath the very burden - Of planet-pressing ocean - We wash our smiling cheeks in peace, a thought for meek devotion. - - Who shall say that flowers - Dress not heaven’s own bowers? - Who its love without them can fancy—or sweet floor? - Who shall even dare - To say we sprang not there, - And came not down, that Love might bring one piece of heaven the more? - Oh! pray believe that angels - From those blue dominions - Brought us in their white laps down, ’twixt their golden pinions. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biographical and Historical Note.= Leigh Hunt (1784-1859) was an - English poet, journalist, and essayist. He was a personal friend of - Shelley and Byron, and an intimate friend of Keats. His poems and - essays are marked by a delightful style. - - The “Nine” (stanza 7) refers to the Muses, patronesses of poetry and - music, whose lord is Apollo, and who assembled on Mount Parnassus or - Mount Helicon, to hold learned discussions on poetry, science, or - music. - - =Discussion.= 1. What is a chorus? 2. Who are the singers? 3. What is - the purpose of their song? 4. When you look at a flower, what things - are you apt to notice about it? 5. Name a poem you have read that - tells of the uses of a flower. 6. What poem that you have read in - this book celebrates the color of the flower? 7. What familiar custom - grows out of the belief that “unto sorrow we give smiles”? That - “unto graces [we give] graces”? 8. For what purpose are flowers in - “a thousand flashing hues”? 9. What things are compared in the last - line of stanza 4? 10. What uses of flowers are pointed out in stanza - 5? 11. In stanza 7 what is compared with the “Nine” muses? 12. Read - the lines that tell what lesson the sea-weeds teach. 13. What does - the last stanza suggest as a possible source and use of flowers? 14. - Which stanza do you like best? - - =Phrases= - - born of sunny showers, 64, 2 - sweetly voiceless, 64, 11 - thread the earth, 64, 16 - flashing hues, 65, 6 - sickliest planting, 65, 17 - Babylonian vaunting, 65, 18 - reverent lips, 65, 27 - death to the presuming, 65, 27 - thymy glen, 65, 30 - our rifled tops, 66, 4 - Amazonian plains, 66, 22 - comes pell-mell, 66, 27 - darksome antheming, 66, 28 - planet-pressing ocean, 66, 30 - blue dominions, 67, 9 - ’twixt their golden pinions, 67, 9 - - -TREES - -JOYCE KILMER - - I think that I shall never see - A poem lovely as a tree; - - A tree whose hungry mouth is prest - Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast; - - A tree that looks at God all day, - And lifts her leafy arms to pray; - - A tree that may in Summer wear - A nest of robins in her hair; - - Upon whose bosom snow has lain; - Who intimately lives with rain. - - Poems are made by fools like me, - But only God can make a tree. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918) was born in New Brunswick, N. - J. He was one of the first Americans to be deeply moved by Germany’s - challenge to humanity. He gave up his journalistic career in New - York, and enlisted seventeen days after the United States declared - war. He was attached to the Intelligence Department of the army, one - of his duties being to precede the troops before an attack and find - out the positions of the enemy guns. He served during almost the - whole of the battle of the Marne until August first, 1918, when he - received a mortal wound. Kilmer was the first American man of letters - to be killed in the war. At the time of his enlistment he was the - editor of poetry for the _Literary Digest_. - - =Discussion.= 1. Do you agree with the poet’s conclusion given in - the first stanza? 2. What is the most beautiful poem you have read? - 3. What fact relating to the tree does the second couplet tell? The - third couplet? The fourth? The fifth? 4. What does the last couplet - tell you? - - =Phrases= - - hungry mouth, 68, 3 - earth’s sweet flowing breast, 68, 4 - looks at God all day, 68, 5 - nest of robins in her hair, 68, 8 - - - - -WINTER - -[Illustration] - - -THE GREAT BLIZZARD - -HAMLIN GARLAND - -A blizzard on the prairie corresponds to a storm at sea; it never affects -the traveler twice alike. Each norther seems to have a manner of attack -all its own. One storm may be short, sharp, high-keyed, and malevolent, -while another approaches slowly, relentlessly, wearing out the souls of -its victims by its inexorable and long-continued cold and gloom. One -threatens for hours before it comes, the other leaps like a tiger upon -the defenseless settlement, catching the children unhoused, the men -unprepared; of this character was the first blizzard Lincoln ever saw. - -The day was warm and sunny. The eaves dripped musically, and the -icicles dropping from the roof fell occasionally with pleasant crash. -The snow grew slushy, and the bells of wood teams jingled merrily all -the forenoon, as the farmers drove to their timber-lands five or six -miles away. The room was uncomfortably warm at times, and the master -opened the outside door. It was the eighth day of January. One afternoon -recess, as the boys were playing in their shirt-sleeves, Lincoln called -Milton’s attention to a great cloud rising in the west and north. A vast, -slaty-blue, seamless dome, silent, portentous, with edges of silvery -frosty light. - -“It’s going to storm,” said Milton. “It always does when we have a south -wind and a cloud like that in the west.” - -When Lincoln set out for home, the sun was still shining, but the edge of -the cloud had crept, or more properly slid, across the sun’s disk, and -its light was growing cold and pale. In fifteen minutes more the wind -from the south ceased—there was a moment of breathless pause, and then, -borne on the wings of the north wind, the streaming clouds of soft, large -flakes of snow drove in a level line over the homeward-bound scholars, -sticking to their clothing and faces and melting rapidly. It was not yet -cold enough to freeze, though the wind was colder. The growing darkness -troubled Lincoln most. - -By the time he reached home, the wind was a gale, the snow a vast -blinding cloud, filling the air and hiding the road. Darkness came on -instantly, and the wind increased in power, as though with the momentum -of the snow. Mr. Stewart came home early, yet the breasts of his horses -were already sheathed in snow. Other teamsters passed, breasting the -storm, and calling cheerily to their horses. One team, containing a woman -and two men, neighbors living seven miles north, gave up the contest, and -turned in at the gate for shelter, confident that they would be able to -go on in the morning. In the barn, while rubbing the ice from the horses, -the men joked and told stories in a jovial spirit, with the feeling -generally that all would be well by daylight. The boys made merry also, -singing songs, popping corn, playing games, in defiance of the storm. - -But when they went to bed, at ten o’clock, Lincoln felt some vague -premonition of a dread disturbance of nature, far beyond any other -experience in his short life. The wind howled like ten thousand tigers, -and the cold grew more and more intense. The wind seemed to drive in and -through the frail tenement; water and food began to freeze within ten -feet of the fire. - -Lincoln thought the wind at that hour had attained its utmost fury, but -when he awoke in the morning, he saw how mistaken he had been. He crept -to the fire, appalled by the steady, solemn, implacable clamor of the -storm. It was like the roarings of all the lions of Africa, the hissing -of a wilderness of serpents, the lashing of great trees. It benumbed his -thinking, it appalled his heart, beyond any other force he had ever known. - -The house shook and snapped, the snow beat in muffled, rhythmic -pulsations against the walls, or swirled and lashed upon the roof, giving -rise to strange, multitudinous sounds; now dim and far, now near and -all-surrounding; producing an effect of mystery and infinite reach, as -though the cabin were a helpless boat, tossing on an angry, limitless sea. - -Looking out, there was nothing to be seen but the lashing of the wind -and snow. When the men attempted to face it, to go to the rescue of the -cattle, they found the air impenetrably filled with fine, powdery snow, -mixed with the dirt caught up from the plowed fields by a terrific blast, -moving ninety miles an hour. It was impossible to see twenty feet, except -at long intervals. Lincoln could not see at all when facing the storm. -When he stepped into the wind, his face was coated with ice and dirt, as -by a dash of mud—a mask which blinded the eyes, and instantly froze to -his cheeks. Such was the power of the wind that he could not breathe an -instant unprotected. His mouth being once open, it was impossible to draw -breath again without turning from the wind. - -The day was spent in keeping warm and in feeding the stock at the barn, -which Mr. Stewart reached by desperate dashes, during the momentary -clearing of the air following some more than usually strong gust. Lincoln -attempted to water the horses from the pump, but the wind blew the water -out of the pail. So cold had the wind become that a dipperful, thrown -into the air, fell as ice. In the house it became more and more difficult -to remain cheerful, notwithstanding the family had fuel and food in -abundance. - -Oh, that terrible day! Hour after hour they listened to that prodigious, -appalling, ferocious uproar. All day Lincoln and Owen moved restlessly -to and fro, asking each other, “Won’t it ever stop?” To them the storm -now seemed too vast; too ungovernable, to ever again be spoken to a calm, -even by God Himself. - -It seemed to Lincoln that no power whatever could control such fury; his -imagination was unable to conceive of a force greater than this war of -wind or snow. - -On the third day the family rose with weariness, and looked into each -other’s faces with a sort of horrified surprise. Not even the invincible -heart of Duncan Stewart, nor the cheery good nature of his wife, could -keep a gloomy silence from settling down upon the house. Conversation -was scanty; nobody laughed that day, but all listened anxiously to -the invisible tearing at the shingles, beating against the door, and -shrieking around the eaves. The frost upon the windows, nearly half an -inch thick in the morning, kept thickening into ice, and the light was -dim at mid-day. The fire melted the snow on the window-panes and upon the -door, while around the key-hole and along every crack, frost formed. The -men’s faces began to wear a grim, set look, and the women sat with awed -faces and downcast eyes full of unshed tears, their sympathies going out -to the poor travelers, lost and freezing. - -The men got to the poor dumb animals that day to feed them; to water them -was impossible. Mr. Stewart went down through the roof of the shed, the -door being completely sealed up with solid banks of snow and dirt. One -of the guests had a wife and two children left alone in a small cottage -six miles farther on, and physical force was necessary to keep him from -setting out in face of the deadly tempest. To him the nights seemed -weeks, and the days interminable, as they did to the rest, but it would -have been death to venture out. - -That night, so disturbed had all become, they lay awake listening, -waiting, hoping for a change. About midnight Lincoln noticed that the -roar was no longer so steady, so relentless, and so high-keyed as before. -It began to lull at times, and though it came back to the attack with all -its former ferocity, still there was a perceptible weakening. Its fury -was becoming spasmodic. One of the men shouted down to Mr. Stewart, “The -storm is over,” and when the host called back a ringing word of cheer, -Lincoln sank into deep sleep in sheer relief. - -Oh, the joy with which the children melted the ice on the window-panes, -and peered out on the familiar landscape, dazzling, peaceful, under the -brilliant sun and wide blue sky. Lincoln looked out over the wide plain, -ridged with vast drifts; on the far blue line of timber, on the near-by -cottages sending up cheerful columns of smoke (as if to tell him the -neighbors were alive), and his heart seemed to fill his throat. But the -wind was with him still, for so long and continuous had its voice sounded -in his ears, that even in the perfect calm his imagination supplied its -loss with fainter, fancied roarings. - -Out in the barn the horses and cattle, hungry and cold, kicked and -bellowed in pain, and when the men dug them out, they ran and raced -like mad creatures, to start the blood circulating in their numbed and -stiffened limbs. Mr. Stewart was forced to tunnel to the barn door, -cutting through the hard snow as if it were clay. The drifts were solid, -and the dirt mixed with the snow was disposed on the surface in beautiful -wavelets, like the sands at the bottom of a lake. The drifts would bear -a horse. The guests were able to go home by noon, climbing above the -fences, and rattling across the plowed ground. - -And then in the days which followed, came grim tales of suffering and -heroism. Tales of the finding of stage-coaches with the driver frozen on -his seat and all his passengers within; tales of travelers striving to -reach home and families. Cattle had starved and frozen in their stalls, -and sheep lay buried in heaps beside the fences where they had clustered -together to keep warm. These days gave Lincoln a new conception of the -prairies. It taught him that however bright and beautiful they might be -in summer under skies of June, they could be terrible when the Norther -was abroad in his wrath. They seemed now as pitiless and destructive as -the polar ocean. It seemed as if nothing could live there unhoused. All -was at the mercy of that power, the north wind, whom only the Lord Sun -could tame. - -This was the worst storm of the winter, though the wind seemed never -to sleep. To and fro, from north to south, and south to north, the dry -snow sifted till it was like fine sand that rolled under the heel with -a ringing sound on cold days. After each storm the restless wind got to -work to pile the new-fallen flakes into ridges behind every fence or -bush, filling every ravine and forcing the teamsters into the fields and -out on to the open prairie. It was a savage and gloomy time for Lincoln, -with only the pleasure of his school to break the monotony of cold. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Hamlin Garland (1860-⸺) was born in Wisconsin. His - father was a farmer-pioneer, who, always eager to be upon the border - line of agricultural development, moved from Wisconsin to Minnesota, - from Minnesota to Iowa, and from Iowa to Dakota. The hope of cheaper - acres, better soil, and bigger crops lured him on. - - When Hamlin Garland turned his attention to literature he was keen - enough to see the literary value of his early experiences. He - resolved to interpret truthfully the life of the western farmer and - its great hardships and limitations, no less than its hopes, joys, - and achievements. In doing this, through a succession of short - stories and novels, he won fame and success. In _A Son of the Middle - Border_, an autobiography, he has written an intensely interesting - and valuable record of typical experiences in the development of the - Middle West. This selection is taken from _Boy Life on the Prairie_. - - =Discussion.= 1. What distinguishes a blizzard from other violent - storms? 2. What are the dangers when it comes without ample warning? - 3. What was the manner of attack of this blizzard? 4. What caused - the early darkness? 5. What was it in the storm that “appalled” the - boy’s heart and “benumbed his thinking”? 6. What effect had it upon - other members of the household? 7. Has man any power to oppose the - violence of such a storm? 8. What was the velocity of the wind? 9. - How long did the blizzard last? How did it compare in this respect - with the ordinary blizzard? 10. What name was given it because of its - force, fury, and duration? 11. What results of the storm proved its - violence? 12. What new idea of the prairie did the storm give the - boy Lincoln? 13. Pronounce the following: recess; infinite; columns; - calm; heroism; implacable. - - =Phrases= - - defenseless settlement, 69, 7 - dripped musically, 69, 10 - seamless dome, 70, 1 - breathless pause, 70, 9 - sheathed in snow, 70, 19 - vague premonition, 70, 30 - dread disturbance, 70, 30 - implacable clamor, 71, 1 - rhythmic pulsations, 71, 5 - multitudinous sounds, 71, 7 - invisible tearing, 72, 9 - perceptible weakening, 72, 33 - becoming spasmodic, 72, 33 - monotony of cold, 74, 4 - - -THE FROST - -HANNAH F. GOULD - - The Frost looked forth on a still, clear night, - And whispered, “Now, I shall be out of sight; - So, through, the valley, and over the height, - In silence I’ll take my way. - I will not go on like that blustering train, - The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain, - That make such a bustle and noise in vain; - But I’ll be as busy as they!” - - So he flew to the mountain, and powdered its crest; - He lit on the trees, and their boughs he dressed - With diamonds and pearls; and over the breast - Of the quivering lake, he spread - A coat of mail, that it need not fear - The glittering point of many a spear - Which he hung on its margin, far and near, - Where a rock could rear its head. - - He went to the window of those who slept, - And over each pane like a fairy crept; - Wherever he breathed, wherever he stepped, - By the morning light were seen - Most beautiful things!—there were flowers and trees, - There were bevies of birds and swarms of bees; - There were cities and temples and towers; and these - All pictured in silvery sheen! - - But he did one thing that was hardly fair— - He peeped in the cupboard, and finding there - That all had forgotten for him to prepare, - “Now, just to set them a-thinking, - I’ll bite this basket of fruit,” said he, - “And this costly pitcher I’ll burst in three! - And the glass of water they’ve left for me, - Shall ‘tchick’ to tell them I’m drinking.” - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Hannah F. Gould (1789-1865) was an American poet, - born at Lancaster, Mass. At the age of eleven she removed with her - parents to Newburyport, Mass., where she lived the rest of her life. - A collection of her poems, entitled _Hymns and Poems for Children_, - contains many beautiful selections. - - =Discussion.= 1. Why does the poet personify “The Frost”? 2. What - pictures do the following give you: “powdered its crest”; “their - boughs he dressed”? 3. What picture of the window pane does stanza - 3 give you? 4. Which line tells you on what kind of night to expect - frost? - - =Phrases= - - blustering train, 75, 5 - in vain, 75, 7 - hung on its margin, 75, 15 - burst in three, 76, 3 - - -THE FROST SPIRIT - -JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER - - He comes—he comes—the Frost Spirit comes! You may trace his footsteps now - On the naked woods and the blasted fields and the brown hill’s withered - brow. - He has smitten the leaves of the gray old trees where their pleasant - green came forth, - And the winds, which follow wherever he goes, have shaken them down to - earth. - - He comes—he comes—the Frost Spirit comes!—from the frozen Labrador— - From the icy bridge of the Northern seas, which the white bear wanders - o’er— - Where the fisherman’s sail is stiff with ice, and the luckless forms - below - In the sunless cold of the lingering night into marble statues grow! - - He comes—he comes—the Frost Spirit comes!—on the rushing Northern blast, - And the dark Norwegian pines have bowed as his fearful breath went past. - With an unscorched wing he has hurried on, where the fires of Hecla glow - On the darkly beautiful sky above and the ancient ice below. - - He comes—he comes—the Frost Spirit comes!—and the quiet lake shall feel - The torpid touch of his glazing breath, and ring to the skater’s heel; - And the streams which danced on the broken rocks, or sang to the leaning - grass, - Shall bow again to their winter chain, and in mournful silence pass. - - He comes—he comes—the Frost Spirit comes!—let us meet him as we may, - And turn with the light of the parlor-fire his evil power away; - And gather closer the circle round, when that fire-light dances high, - And laugh at the shriek of the baffled Fiend as his sounding wing goes - by! - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 60. - - =Discussion.= 1. Why does the poet personify “The Frost Spirit”? 2. - Why is “Fiend” personified? 3. How can one “trace his footsteps” on - woods and fields? 4. Locate on a map Labrador, the pine region of - Norway, and the volcano of Hecla. 5. What is “the icy bridge of the - northern seas”? 6. What are “the luckless forms below”? 7. Why does - the poet say “In the sunless cold of the lingering night”? 8. What - does the poet mean by “the shriek of the baffled Fiend”? - - =Phrases= - - blasted fields, 76, 2 - luckless forms, 77, 1 - sunless cold, 77, 2 - fearful breath, 77, 4 - unscorched wing, 77, 5 - ancient ice, 77, 6 - torpid touch, 77, 8 - glazing breath, 77, 8 - - -THE SNOW STORM - -RALPH WALDO EMERSON - - Announced by all the trumpets of the sky - Arrives the snow, and, driving o’er the fields, - Seems nowhere to alight; the whited air - Hides hills and woods, the river and the heaven, - And veils the farmhouse at the garden’s end. - The steed and traveler stopped, the courier’s feet - Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit - Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed - In a tumultuous privacy of storm. - Come, see the north wind’s masonry. - Out of an unseen quarry evermore - Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer - Curves his white bastions with projected roof - Round every windward stake, or tree, or door. - Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work - So fanciful, so savage, naught cares he - For number or proportion. Mockingly - On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths; - A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn; - Fills up the farmer’s lane from wall to wall, - Mauger the farmer’s sighs, and at the gate - A tapering turret overtops the work. - And when his hours are numbered, and the world - Is all his own, retiring, as he were not, - Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art - To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone, - Built in an age, the mad wind’s night-work, - The frolic architecture of the snow. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882) was a native of Boston, - born not far from Franklin’s birthplace. He was the oldest among that - brilliant group of New England scholars and writers that developed - under the influence of Harvard College. Emerson was a quiet boy, - but that he had high ambitions and sturdy determination is shown - by the fact that he worked his own way through college. He is best - known for his essays, full of noble ideas and wise philosophy, - but he also wrote poetry. As a poet he was careless of his meter, - making his lines often purposely rugged, but they are always charged - and bristling with thoughts that shock and thrill like electric - batteries. In 1836 he wrote the “Concord Hymn” containing the famous - lines: - - “Here once the embattled farmers stood - And fired the shot heard round the world!” - - His poems of nature are clear-cut and vivid as snapshots. “The Humble - Bee,” as a critic puts it, “seems almost to shine with the heat and - light of summer.” - - =Discussion.= 1. Picture the scene described in the first five - lines. 2. Compare with the picture given you in the first stanza of - “Snow-Flakes,” page 80. 3. Read in a way to bring out the contrast - between the wild storm and the scene within the “farmhouse at the - garden’s end.” 4. What is meant by “fierce artificer”? 5. What is - the “tile” with which the poet imagines the “unseen quarry” is - furnished? 6. Of what are the “white bastions” made? 7. Does the use - of the word “windward” add to the picture and does such detail add - to the beauty of the poem or detract from it? 8. Who is described as - “myriad-handed”? 9. What is the mockery in hanging “Parian wreaths” - on a coop or kennel? 10. What picture do lines 20, 21, and 22 give - you? 11. What does the “mad wind’s night-work” do for Art? - - =Phrases= - - courier’s feet delayed, 78, 6 - radiant fireplace, 78, 8 - tumultuous privacy, 78, 9 - north wind’s masonry, 78, 10 - myriad-handed, 78, 15 - Parian wreaths, 78, 18 - tapering turret, 78, 22 - hours are numbered, 78, 23 - slow structures, 79, 2 - frolic architecture, 79, 4 - - -SNOWFLAKES - -HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW - - Out of the bosom of the Air, - Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken - Over the woodlands brown and bare, - Over the harvest-fields forsaken, - Silent, and soft, and slow, - Descends the snow. - - Even as our cloudy fancies take - Suddenly shape in some divine expression, - Even as the troubled heart doth make - In the white countenance confession, - The troubled sky reveals - The grief it feels. - - This is the poem of the air, - Slowly in silent syllables recorded; - This is the secret of despair, - Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded, - Now whispered and revealed - To wood and field. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882) was born in - Portland, Maine. In “The Courtship of Miles Standish” he has made - us acquainted with his ancestors, John Alden and Priscilla Mullens, - passengers on the _Mayflower_. - - Longfellow’s education was obtained in Portland and at Bowdoin - College, where he had for classmates several youths who afterward - became famous, notably, Nathaniel Hawthorne and Franklin Pierce. - Upon Longfellow’s graduation, the trustees of the college, having - decided to establish a chair of modern languages, proposed that this - young graduate should fit himself for the position. Three years, - therefore, he spent in delightful study and travel in France, Spain, - Italy, and Germany. Here was laid the foundation for his scholarship, - and, as in Irving on his first European trip, there was kindled - that passion for romantic lore which followed him through life and - which gave direction to much of his work. He mastered the language - of each country visited, in a remarkably short time, and many of the - choicer poems found in these languages he has given to us in English. - After five years at Bowdoin, Longfellow was invited in 1834 to the - chair of modern languages in Harvard College. Again he was given an - opportunity to prepare himself by a year of study abroad. In 1836 - he began his active work at Harvard and took up his residence in - the historic Craigie House, overlooking the Charles River—a house - in which Washington had been quartered for some months when he came - to Cambridge in 1775 to take command of the Continental forces. - Longfellow was thenceforth one of the most prominent members of - that group of men including Sumner, Hawthorne, Agassiz, Lowell, and - Holmes, who gave distinction to the Boston and Cambridge of earlier - days. - - For twenty years Longfellow served as a teacher, introducing hundreds - of students to the literature of modern Europe. In his poetry, too, - he exerted a powerful influence for bringing about a relationship - between America and European civilization. He was thus a poet of - culture, rendering a great service at a time when the thought - of America was provincial. He was also a poet of the household, - writing many poems about the joys and sorrows of home life, poems of - aspiration and religious faith, poems about village characters as - well as about national heroes. He excels, too, as a writer of tales - in verse. “Evangeline,” a story of the Acadian exiles and their - wanderings; “The Courtship of Miles Standish,” a story of early - colonial life in Massachusetts; and “Hiawatha,” an Indian epic into - which he put a vast amount of legendary matter belonging to the first - owners of our country, are examples of his power in sustained verse - narrative. His ballads, such as “The Skeleton in Armor” and “The - Wreck of the Hesperus,” show his power to handle a legend in brief - and stirring form. He was a writer of almost perfect sonnets, and a - writer of prose of distinction. The most loved and most widely known - of American poets, Longfellow helped to interpret our common life in - terms of beauty. - - =Discussion.= 1. What picture does the first stanza give you? 2. - Compare this picture with that found in the first ten lines of “The - Snow Storm,” page 78, and with that given in the third, fourth, - and fifth stanzas of “Midwinter,” page 82. 3. To what does “her” - refer in the second line? 4. Explain how “the troubled heart” makes - “confession in the countenance.” 5. How does the poet fancy “the - troubled sky” reveals its grief? 6. What is “the poem of the air”? - 7. What are the “silent syllables” in which “the poem of the air” is - recorded? 8. What is “whispered and revealed”? - - =Phrases= - - cloud-folds, 80, 2 - cloudy fancies, 80, 7 - secret of despair, 80, 15 - cloudy bosom, 80, 16 - - -MIDWINTER - -JOHN T. TROWBRIDGE - - The speckled sky is dim with snow, - The light flakes falter and fall slow; - Athwart the hilltop, rapt and pale, - Silently drops a silvery veil; - And all the valley is shut in - By flickering curtains gray and thin. - - But cheerily the chickadee - Singeth to me on fence and tree; - The snow sails round him as he sings, - White as the down on angels’ wings. - - I watch the snow flakes as they fall - On bank and brier and broken wall; - Over the orchard, waste and brown, - All noiselessly they settle down, - Tipping the apple boughs and each - Light quivering twig of plum and peach. - - On turf and curb and bower roof - The snowstorm spreads its ivory woof; - It paves with pearl the garden walk; - And lovingly round tattered stalk - And shivering stem its magic weaves - A mantle fair as lily leaves. - The hooded beehive, small and low, - Stands like a maiden in the snow; - And an old door slab is half hid - Under an alabaster lid. - - All day it snows; the sheeted post - Gleams in the dimness like a ghost; - All day the blasted oak has stood - A muffled wizard of the wood; - Garland and airy cap adorn - The sumac and the wayside thorn, - And clustering spangles lodge and shine - In the dark tresses of the pine. - - The ragged bramble, dwarfed and old, - Shrinks like a beggar in the cold; - In surplice white the cedar stands, - And blesses him with priestly hands. - - Still cheerily the chickadee - Singeth to me on fence and tree; - But in my inmost ear is heard - The music of a holier bird; - And heavenly thoughts as soft and white - As snowflakes on my soul alight, - Clothing with love my lonely heart, - Healing with peace each bruiséd part, - Till all my being seems to be - Transfigured by their purity. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= John Townsend Trowbridge (1827-1916) was an American - author. His home was in Cambridge, Mass., within the shadow of - Harvard College. At one time he was one of the editors of _Our Young - Folks’ Magazine_. “Midwinter” and “Darius Green and His Flying - Machine” are two of his poems most widely known. - - =Discussion.= 1. Compare the picture that the first stanza gives you - with that given you in the first stanza of “Snow-Flakes” and that - given you by the first ten lines of “The Snow Storm.” 2. Compare the - picture that the fourth stanza gives you with that given by lines - 17-22 of “The Snow Storm.” 3. In the fourth stanza, what does the - poet say the snowstorm does? 4. What does the poet mean by “muffled - wizard of the wood”? 5. What pictures does the sixth stanza give you? - 6. Which of these descriptions seems to you most apt? 7. What does - the poet mean by “inmost ear”? 8. Compare this meaning with that - of “inward eye” in Wordsworth’s “The Daffodils” and with “eyes in - the heart” in Lowell’s “To the Dandelion.” 9. What do the “heavenly - thoughts” suggested by the scene do for the poet? - - =Phrases= - - flickering curtains, 82, 6 - ivory woof, 82, 18 - paves with pearl, 82, 19 - tattered stalk, 82, 20 - shivering stem, 82, 21 - alabaster lid, 82, 26 - clustering spangles, 83, 7 - surplice white, 83, 11 - - -BLOW, BLOW, THOU WINTER WIND - -WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE - - Blow, blow, thou winter wind, - Thou art not so unkind - As man’s ingratitude; - Thy tooth is not so keen - Because thou art not seen, - Although thy breath be rude. - Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly; - Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly. - Then heigh-ho! the holly! - This life is most jolly. - - Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, - Thou dost not bite so nigh - As benefits forgot; - Though thou the waters warp, - Thy sting is not so sharp - As friend remembered not. - Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly; - Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly. - Then heigh-ho! the holly! - This life is most jolly. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= William Shakespeare (1564-1616) was the greatest - English poet, and was one of the greatest poets the world has - ever known. He wrote for all times and all peoples. He was born - at Stratford-on-Avon, where fifty-two years later he died. At the - age of twenty-two he removed to London, where for twenty years he - wrote poems and plays, was an actor, and later a shareholder in the - theater. The last six years of his life he spent quietly at Stratford. - - This song is from the comedy _As You Like It_, a story of the - adventures of a group of courtiers and rustics in the forest of - Arden. A charming element in Shakespeare’s romantic comedies is - the introduction of song-poems or lyrics. All the writers of those - days, the days of Good Queen Bess, wrote songs. England was “a nest - of singing birds.” They were real songs, too, filled with joy and - musical language, and all the people sang them to the accompaniment - of the quaint musical instruments of the time. And all the people - took part in games and pageants in “Merrie England,” and listened - to the strange tales of seafarers, and went to the playhouse to see - Shakespeare’s _As You Like It_. - - =Discussion.= 1. Why is the thought of green holly appropriate in - connection with the winter wind? 2. What feeling does ingratitude - arouse? 3. Why does the poet say the “tooth” of the wind is not so - keen as man’s ingratitude? 4. What change of feeling do you notice - after line 6? 5. What do you think caused the change? 6. In the - second stanza read lines that show the poet did not really think that - “life is most jolly.” 7. Which lines explain the poet’s distrust - of friendship? 8. Which word in stanza I is explained by line 3 of - stanza 2? 9. Find a word in stanza 1 that gives the same thought as - the second line of the second stanza. 10. Give the meaning of “warp” - in stanza 2 (an old Saxon proverb said, “Winter shall warp water”). - - =Phrases= - - benefits forgot, 84, 13 - friendship is feigning, 84, 18 - - -WHEN ICICLES HANG BY THE WALL - -WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE - - When icicles hang by the wall, - And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, - And Tom bears logs into the hall, - And milk comes frozen home in pail, - When blood is nipp’d, and ways be foul, - Then nightly sings the staring owl, - Tu-whit; - Tu-who—a merry note, - While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. - - When all aloud the wind doth blow, - And coughing drowns the parson’s saw, - And birds sit brooding in the snow. - And Marian’s nose looks red and raw, - When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, - Then nightly sings the staring owl, - Tu-whit; - Tu-who—a merry note, - While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 85. - - This is the second part of a song of four stanzas, found in the - comedy _Love’s Labor’s Lost_. The first two stanzas are descriptive - of spring, and introduce the song of the cuckoo. The last two stanzas - are given here. - - =Discussion.= 1. Do these lines describe life in the city or in the - country? 2. What does the use of names, Dick, Tom, Joan, and Marian, - add to the poem? 3. For what use were logs brought into the hall? 4. - Can you see fitness in the use of the word “greasy”? 5. What is the - song of the owl? 6. Explain the second line of stanza 2. 7. Why is - the owl called “staring”? - - =Phrases= - - blows his nail, 85, 2 - ways be foul, 85, 5 - staring owl, 86, 1 - keel the pot, 86, 4 - parson’s saw, 86, 6 - brooding in the snow, 86, 7 - - - - -PART II - -ADVENTURES OLD AND NEW - -_“Some say that the age of chivalry is past. The age of chivalry is never -past, so long as there is a wrong left unredressed on earth, or a man or -woman left to say, ‘I will redress that wrong or spend my life in the -attempt.’”_ - -—Charles Kingsley. - -[Illustration: Copyright by Edwin A. Abbey (from a Copley Print, -copyright by Curtis & Cameron, Boston) - -THE ROUND TABLE OF KING ARTHUR - -(Galahad is taking his place next to Sir Lancelot, while King Arthur -rises to receive the new knight)] - - - - -ADVENTURES OLD AND NEW - - -INTRODUCTION - -Along with our interest in the world of animals and the plant world and -the seasons, we are curious to know about people. A good deal of our -conversation is about what others say or do. And when we say of a man, -“He _does_ things,” we pay him the highest possible compliment. - -Ever since man came on the earth he has been “doing things.” Centuries -ago, a man found out how to make fire by striking pieces of flint -together. Then other men discovered strange things that might be done by -means of the mysterious flame that sprang up. Another man ventured over -the hill or mountain out into the unknown world beyond, or far across -the blue water that seemed to reach to the end of the world. And when -the traveler returned, men listened eagerly to his stories. So from -earliest days men who ventured beyond the beaten track and did things -their fellows were too lazy or too timid to think of doing have been -interesting to those who stayed at home. In such ways ships were built to -carry voyagers to strange places. In such ways commerce sprang up, for -these adventurers brought back new foods and new objects, and knowledge -of men who lived in strange places. In such ways islands and continents -were discovered and settled, and men made war for the possession of rich -territories, and life for all men became more varied and interesting -through the adventures of the daring ones. For life is full of zest and -interest only in proportion as the spirit of adventure enters into it. - -The men in former times who stood out above their fellows because of -their deeds were the subjects of song and story. Minstrels and poets in -all times have put into words the wonder and admiration of the people for -the doer of great deeds. Some stories of this kind you will read in the -pages that follow—just a few of the thousands of stories of adventure -that men have told in song and prose tale. Some of these stories -introduce King Arthur and his Round Table, in the days of chivalry, when -knighthood was in flower. A few of them are old ballads, which are tales -made by the people or by some of their number, and sung by the people or -by minstrels, or by mothers to their children, and so handed down from -one generation to another. And some of them are very recent indeed, for -they spring out of the heroic deeds of men in the World War that ended in -November, 1918. - -This spirit of adventure that makes men willing to face danger, and even -death, to get some new experience or to render some service, the spirit -that makes some men explore strange places, or seek for the South Pole, -or fight in great battles—this spirit of adventure never dies. Sometimes -the story is of a knight clad in armor, and sometimes it is about a man -in khaki who died the other day that his fellows might live—the spirit is -the same. Men no longer dress like Lancelot, or like George Washington, -but they do the same sort of things. And people like to read of these -things or hear the stories told just as much now as they did when the -first traveler returned to the little village in Greece, or when Sir -Gareth and Sir Gawain won their victories, or when General Putnam or Mad -Anthony Wayne, in our Revolutionary War, performed some brave act for -the American cause. And now, all over the world, groups gather about the -soldier who has returned from Flanders Fields with his stories of valor. -Always the spirit of adventure lives; always we like to hear what it -brings back to us of news about life. If we have had no chance yet to do -a thing worth men’s praise, we get a larger view of life, a better sense -of what life really means, from reading or hearing such stories. And we -mean to do brave things ourselves, some day, so the stories thrill us -with the sense of what life holds for us. - -These things we must remember, then, as we read. Through these stories -we become partners in all the brave deeds of the past. And, again, the -spirit of adventure is ever-living and is as keen today as in the past. -And, finally, by such stories our own knowledge of the fine qualities -of human nature is increased and our own experience enlarged so that we -become braver and better because we see what wonderful things life can -bring. - - - - -THE DAYS OF CHIVALRY - -[Illustration] - - -KING ARTHUR STORIES - - -THE COMING OF ARTHUR - - -OF THE BIRTH OF ARTHUR AND HOW HE BECAME KING - -Long years ago, there ruled over Britain a king called Uther Pendragon. A -mighty prince was he, and feared by all men; yet, when he sought the love -of the fair Igraine of Cornwall, she would have naught to do with him, so -that, from grief and disappointment, Uther fell sick, and at last seemed -like to die. - -Now in those days, there lived a famous magician named Merlin, so -powerful that he could change his form at will, or even make himself -invisible; nor was there any place so remote but that he could reach it -at once, merely by wishing himself there. One day, suddenly he stood at -Uther’s bedside, and said: - -“Sir King, I know thy grief, and am ready to help thee. Only promise to -give me, at his birth, the son that shall be born to thee, and thou shalt -have thy heart’s desire.” - -To this the King agreed joyfully, and Merlin kept his word: for he gave -Uther the form of one whom Igraine had loved dearly, and so she took him -willingly for her husband. - -When the time had come that a child should be born to the King and -Queen, Merlin appeared before Uther to remind him of his promise; and -Uther swore it should be as he had said. Three days later, a prince was -born and, with pomp and ceremony, was christened by the name of Arthur; -but immediately thereafter the King commanded that the child should be -carried to the postern-gate, there to be given to the old man who would -be found waiting without. - -Not long after, Uther fell sick, and he knew that his end was come; so, -by Merlin’s advice, he called together his knights and barons and said to -them: - -“My death draws near. I charge you, therefore, that ye obey my son even -as ye have obeyed me; and my curse upon him if he claim not the crown -when he is a man grown.” - -Then the King turned his face to the wall and died. - -Scarcely was Uther laid in his grave before disputes arose. Few of the -nobles had seen Arthur or even heard of him, and not one of them would -have been willing to be ruled by a child; rather, each thought himself -fitted to be king, and, strengthening his own castle, made war on his -neighbors until confusion alone was supreme, and the poor groaned because -there was none to help them. - -Now when Merlin carried away Arthur—for Merlin was the old man who had -stood at the postern-gate—he had known all that would happen, and had -taken the child to keep him safe from the fierce barons until he should -be of age to rule wisely and well, and perform all the wonders prophesied -of him. He gave the child to the care of the good knight Sir Ector to -bring him up with his son Kay, but revealed not to him that it was the -son of Uther Pendragon that was given into his charge. - -At last, when years had passed and Arthur was grown a tall youth -well skilled in knightly exercises, Merlin went to the Archbishop of -Canterbury and advised him that he should call together at Christmas-time -all the chief men of the realm to the great cathedral in London. - -“For,” said Merlin, “there shall be seen a great marvel by which it -shall be made clear to all men who is the lawful king of this land.” The -Archbishop did as Merlin counseled. Under pain of a fearful curse, he -bade barons and knights come to London to keep the feast, and to pray -heaven to send peace to the realm. - -The people hastened to obey the Archbishop’s commands and, from all -sides, barons and knights came riding in to keep the birth-feast of our -Lord. And when they had prayed, and were coming forth from the cathedral, -they saw a strange sight. There, in the open space before the church, -stood, on a great stone, an anvil thrust through with a sword; and on the -stone were written these words: - -“Whoso can draw forth this sword is rightful King of Britain born.” - -At once there were fierce quarrels, each man clamoring to be the first -to try his fortune, none doubting his own success. Then the Archbishop -decreed that each should make the venture in turn, from the greatest -baron to the least knight; and each in turn, having put forth his utmost -strength, failed to move the sword one inch, and drew back ashamed. So -the Archbishop dismissed the company, and having appointed guards to -watch over the stone, sent messengers through all the land to give word -of great jousts to be held in London at Easter, when each knight could -give proof of his skill and courage, and try whether the adventure of the -sword was for him. - -Among those who rode to London at Easter was the good Sir Ector, and with -him his son, Sir Kay, newly made a knight, and the young Arthur. When the -morning came that the jousts should begin, Sir Kay and Arthur mounted -their horses and set out for the lists; but before they reached the -field, Kay looked and saw that he had left his sword behind. Immediately -Arthur turned back to fetch it for him, only to find the house fast shut, -for all were gone to view the tournament. Sore vexed was Arthur, fearing -lest his brother Kay should lose his chance of gaining glory, till, of -a sudden, he bethought him of the sword in the great anvil before the -cathedral. Thither he rode with all speed, and the guards having deserted -their posts to view the tournament, there was none to forbid him the -adventure. He leaped from his horse, seized the hilt, and instantly drew -forth the sword as easily as from a scabbard; then, mounting his horse -and thinking no marvel of what he had done, he rode after his brother -and handed him the weapon. - -When Kay looked at it, he saw at once that it was the wondrous sword from -the stone. In great joy he sought his father, and showing it to him, said: - -“Then must I be King of Britain.” - -But Sir Ector bade him say how he came by the sword, and when Sir Kay -told how Arthur had brought it to him, Sir Ector bent his knee to the boy -and said: - -“Sir, I perceive that ye are my King, and here I tender you my homage”; -and Kay did as his father. Then the three sought the Archbishop, to whom -they related all that had happened; and he, much marveling, called the -people together to the great stone, and bade Arthur thrust back the sword -and draw it forth again in the presence of all, which he did with ease. -But an angry murmur arose from the barons, who cried that what a boy -could do, a man could do; so, at the Archbishop’s word, the sword was put -back, and each man, whether baron or knight, tried in his turn to draw it -forth, and failed. Then, for the third time, Arthur drew forth the sword. -Immediately there arose from the people a great shout: - -“Arthur is King! Arthur is King! We will have no King but Arthur”; and, -though the great barons scowled and threatened, they fell on their knees -before him while the Archbishop placed the crown upon his head, and they -swore to obey him faithfully as their lord and sovereign. - -Thus Arthur was made king; and to all he did justice, righting wrongs and -giving to all their dues. Nor was he forgetful of those that had been his -friends; for Kay, whom he loved as a brother, he made seneschal and chief -of his household, and to Sir Ector, his foster father, he gave broad -lands. - - -HOW KING ARTHUR TOOK A WIFE, AND OF THE TABLE ROUND - -Thus Arthur was made king, but he had to fight for his own; for eleven -great kings drew together and refused to acknowledge him as their lord, -and chief amongst the rebels was King Lot of Orkney, who had married -Arthur’s sister, Bellicent. - -By Merlin’s advice Arthur sent for help overseas, to Ban and Bors, the -two great Kings who ruled in Gaul. With their aid, he overthrew his foes -in a fierce battle near the river Trent; and then he passed with them -into their own lands and helped them drive out their enemies. So there -was ever great friendship between Arthur and the Kings Ban and Bors, and -all their kindred; and afterwards some of the most famous Knights of the -Round Table were of that kin. - -Then King Arthur set himself to restore order throughout his kingdom. To -all who would submit and amend their evil ways, he showed kindness; but -those who persisted in oppression and wrong he removed, putting in their -places others who would deal justly with the people. And because the -land had become overrun with forest during the days of misrule, he cut -roads through the thickets, that no longer wild beasts and men, fiercer -than the beasts, should lurk in their gloom, to the harm of the weak -and defenseless. Thus it came to pass that soon the peasant plowed his -fields in safety, and where had been wastes, men dwelt again in peace and -prosperity. - -Amongst the lesser kings whom Arthur helped to rebuild their towns and -restore order was King Leodogran, of Cameliard. Now Leodogran had one -fair child, his daughter Guinevere; and from the time that first he saw -her, Arthur gave her all his love. So he sought counsel of Merlin, his -chief adviser. Merlin heard the King sorrowfully, and said: - -“Sir King, when a man’s heart is set, he may not change. Yet had it been -well if ye had loved another.” - -So the King sent his knights to Leodogran to ask of him his daughter; and -Leodogran consented, rejoicing to wed her to so good and knightly a king. -With great pomp, the princess was conducted to Canterbury, and there -the King met her, and they two were wed by the Archbishop in the great -cathedral, amid the rejoicings of the people. - -On that same day did Arthur found his Order of the Round Table, the -fame of which was to spread throughout Christendom and endure through -all time. Now the Round Table had been made for King Uther Pendragon -by Merlin, who had meant thereby to set forth plainly to all men the -roundness of the earth. After Uther died, King Leodogran had possessed -it; but when Arthur was wed, he sent it to him as a gift, and great was -the King’s joy at receiving it. One hundred fifty knights might take -their places about it, and for them Merlin made sieges, or seats. One -hundred twenty-eight did Arthur knight at that great feast; thereafter, -if any sieges were empty, at the high festival of Pentecost new knights -were ordained to fill them, and by magic was the name of each knight -found inscribed, in letters of gold, in his proper siege. One seat only -long remained unoccupied, and that was the Siege Perilous. No knight -might occupy it until the coming of Sir Galahad; for, without danger to -his life, none might sit there who was not free from all stain of sin. - -With pomp and ceremony did each knight take upon him the vows of true -knighthood: _to obey the King; to show mercy to all who asked it; to -defend the weak; and for no worldly gain to fight in a wrongful cause;_ -and all the knights rejoiced together, doing honor to Arthur and to -his Queen. And all men of worship said it was merry to be under such a -chieftain, that would put his person in adventure as other poor knights -did. Then they rode forth to right the wrong and help the oppressed, and -by their aid, the King held his realm in peace, doing justice to all. - - -OF THE FINDING OF EXCALIBUR - -Now when Arthur was first made king, as young knights will, he courted -peril for its own sake, and often would he ride unattended by lonely -forest ways, seeking the adventure that chance might send him. All -unmindful was he of the ruin to his realm if mischief befell him; and -even his trusty counselors, though they grieved that he should thus -imperil him, yet could not but love him the more for his hardihood. - -So, on a day, he rode through the Forest Perilous where dwelt the Lady -Annoure, a sorceress of great might, who used her magic powers but for -the furtherance of her own desires. And as she looked from a turret -window, she descried King Arthur come riding down a forest glade, and the -sunbeams falling upon him made one glory of his armor and of his yellow -hair. Then, as Annoure gazed upon the King, she resolved that, come -what might, she would have him for her own, to dwell with her always and -fulfill all her behests. And so she bade her men to lower the drawbridge -and raise the portcullis, and sallying forth accompanied by her maidens, -she gave King Arthur courteous salutation, and prayed him that he would -rest within her castle that day, for that she had a petition to make to -him; and Arthur, doubting nothing of her good faith, suffered himself to -be led within. - -Then was a great feast spread, and Annoure caused the King to be seated -in a chair of state at her right hand, while squires and pages served him -on bended knee. So when they had feasted, the King turned to the Lady -Annoure and said courteously: - -“Lady, somewhat ye said of a request that ye would make. If there be -aught in which I may give pleasure to you, I pray you let me know it, and -I will serve you as knightly as I may.” - -“In truth,” said the lady, “there is that which I would fain entreat of -you, most noble knight; yet suffer, I beseech you, that first I may show -you somewhat of my castle and my estate, and then will I crave a boon of -your chivalry.” - -Then the sorceress led King Arthur from room to room of her castle, -and ever each displayed greater store of beauty than the last. In some -the walls were hung with rich tapestries, in others they gleamed with -precious stones; and the King marveled what might be the petition of -one that was mistress of such wealth. Lastly, Annoure brought the King -out upon the battlements, and as he gazed around him, he saw that since -he had entered the castle there had sprung up about it triple walls of -defense that shut out wholly the forest from view. Then turned he to -Annoure, and gravely said: - -“Lady, greatly I marvel in what a simple knight may give pleasure to one -that is mistress of so wondrous a castle as ye have shown me here; yet if -there be aught in which I may render you knightly service, right gladly -would I hear it now, for I must go forth upon my way to render service to -those whose knight I am sworn.” - -“Nay, now, King Arthur,” answered the sorceress mockingly, “ye may -not deceive me! for well I know you, and that all Britain bows to your -behest.” - -“The more reason then that I should ride forth to right wrong and succor -them that, of their loyalty, render true obedience to their lord.” - -“Ye speak as a fool,” said the sorceress; “why should one that may -command be at the beck and call of every hind and slave within his realm? -Nay, rest thee here with me, and I will make thee ruler of a richer land -than Britain, and satisfy thy every desire.” - -“Lady,” said the King sternly, “I will hear and judge of your petition -here and now, and then will I go forth upon my way.” - -“Nay,” said Annoure, “there needs not this harshness. I did but speak for -thine advantage. Only vow thee to my service, and there is naught that -thou canst desire that thou shalt not possess. Thou shalt be lord of this -fair castle and of the mighty powers that obey me. Why waste thy youth in -hardship and in the service of such as shall render thee little enough -again?” - -Thereupon, without ever a word, the King turned him about and made for -the turret stair by which he had ascended, but nowhere could he find it. -Then said the sorceress, mocking him: - -“Fair sir, how think ye to escape without my goodwill? See ye not the -walls that guard my stronghold? And think ye that I have not servants -enough to do my bidding?” - -She clapped her hands and forthwith there appeared a company of squires -who, at her command, seized the King and bore him away to a strong -chamber where they locked him in. - -And so the King abode that night, the prisoner of that evil sorceress, -with little hope that day, when it dawned, should bring him better cheer. -Yet lost he not courage, but kept watch and vigil the night through, lest -the powers of evil should assail him unawares. And with the early morning -light, Annoure came to visit him. More stately she seemed than the night -before, more tall and more terrible; and her dress was one blaze of -flashing gems so that scarce could the eye look upon her. As a queen -might address a vassal, so greeted she the King, and as condescending to -one of low estate, asked how he had fared that night. And the King made -answer: - -“I have kept vigil as behooves a knight who, knowing himself to be in -the midst of danger, would bear himself meetly in any peril that should -offer.” - -And the Lady Annoure, admiring his knightly courage, desired more -earnestly even than before to win him to her will, and she said: - -“Sir Arthur, I know well your courage and knightly fame, and greatly do -I desire to keep you with me. Stay with me and I promise that ye shall -bear sway over a wider realm than any that ye ever heard of, and I, even -I, its mistress, will be at your command. And what lose ye if ye accept -my offer? Little enough; for never think that ye shall win the world from -evil, and men to loyalty and truth.” - -Then answered the King in anger: “Full well I see that thou art in league -with evil and that thou but seekest to turn me from my purpose. I defy -thee, foul sorceress. Do thy worst; though thou slay me, thou shalt never -sway me to thy will”; and therewith, the King raised his cross-hilted -sword before her. Then the lady quailed at that sight. Her heart was -filled with hate, but she said: - -“Go your way, proud King of a petty realm. Rule well your race of -miserable mortals, since it pleases you more than to bear sway over the -powers of the air. I keep you not against your will.” - -With these words she passed from the chamber, and the King heard her give -command to her squires to set him without her gates, give him his horse, -and suffer him to go on his way. - -And so it came to pass that the King found himself once more at large, -and marveled to have won so lightly to liberty. Yet knew he not the -depths of treachery in the heart of Annoure; for when she found she might -not prevail with the King, she bethought her how, by mortal means, she -might bring him to dishonor and death. And so, by her magic art, she -caused the King to follow a path that brought him to a fountain, whereby -a knight had his tent, and, for the love of adventure, held the way -against all comers. Now this knight was Sir Pellinore, and at that time -he had not his equal for strength and knightly skill, nor had any been -found that might stand against him. So, as the King drew nigh, Pellinore -cried: - -“Stay, knight, for no one passes this way except he joust with me.” - -“That is not a good custom,” said the King; “and it were well that ye -followed it no more.” - -“It is my custom, and I will follow it still,” answered Pellinore; “if ye -like it not, amend it if ye can.” - -“I will do my endeavor,” said Arthur, “but, as ye see, I have no spear.” - -“Nay, I seek not to have you at disadvantage,” replied Pellinore, and -bade his squire give Arthur a spear. Then they dressed their shields, -laid their lances in rest, and rushed upon each other. Now the King was -wearied by his night’s vigil, and the strength of Pellinore was as the -strength of three men; so, at the first encounter, Arthur was unhorsed. -Then said he: - -“I have lost the honor on horseback, but now will I encounter thee with -my sword and on foot.” - -“I, too, will alight,” said Pellinore; “small honor to me were it if I -slew thee on foot, I being horsed the while.” So they encountered each -other on foot, and so fiercely they fought that they hewed off great -pieces of each other’s armor, and the ground was dyed with their blood. -But at the last, Arthur’s sword broke off short at the hilt, and so he -stood all defenseless before his foe. - -“I have thee now,” cried Pellinore; “yield thee as recreant or I will -slay thee.” - -“That will I never,” said the King; “slay me if thou canst.” - -Then he sprang on Pellinore, caught him by the middle, and flung him to -the ground, himself falling with him. And Sir Pellinore marveled, for -never before had he encountered so bold and resolute a foe; but exerting -his great strength, he rolled himself over, and so brought Arthur beneath -him. Then Arthur would have perished, but at that moment Merlin stood -beside him, and when Sir Pellinore would have struck off the King’s head, -stayed his blow, crying: - -“Pellinore, if thou slayest this knight, thou puttest the whole realm in -peril; for this is none other than King Arthur himself.” - -Then was Pellinore filled with dread, and cried: - -“Better make an end of him at once; for if I suffer him to live, what -hope have I of his grace, that have dealt with him so sorely?” - -But before Pellinore could strike, Merlin caused a deep sleep to come -upon him; and raising King Arthur from the ground, he stanched his wounds -and recovered him of his swoon. - -But when the King came to himself, he saw his foe lie, still as in death, -on the ground beside him; and he was grieved, and said: - -“Merlin, what have ye done to this brave knight? Nay, if ye have slain -him, I shall grieve my life long; for a good knight he is, bold and a -fair fighter, though something wanting in knightly courtesy.” - -“He is in better case than ye are, Sir King, who so lightly imperil your -person, and thereby your kingdom’s welfare; and, as ye say, Pellinore -is a stout knight, and hereafter shall he serve you well. Have no fear. -He shall wake again in three hours and have suffered naught by the -encounter. But for you, it were well that ye came where ye might be -tended for your wounds.” - -“Nay,” replied the King, smiling, “I may not return to my court thus -weaponless; first will I find means to possess me of a sword.” - -“That is easily done,” answered Merlin; “follow me, and I will bring you -where ye shall get you a sword, the wonder of the world.” - -So, though his wounds pained him sore, the King followed Merlin by many -a forest path and glade, until they came upon a mere, bosomed deep in -the forest; and as he looked thereon, the King beheld an arm, clothed in -white samite, above the surface of the lake, and in the hand was a fair -sword that gleamed in the level rays of the setting sun. - -“This is a great marvel,” said the King, “what may it mean?” - -And Merlin made answer: “Deep is this mere, so deep indeed that no -man may fathom it; but in its depths, and built upon the roots of the -mountains, is the palace of the Lady of the Lake. Powerful is she with a -power that works ever for good, and she shall help thee in thine hour of -need.” - -Anon the damsel herself came unto Arthur and said: “Sir Arthur, King, -yonder sword is mine and if ye will give me a gift when I ask it of you, -ye shall have it.” - -“By my faith,” said Arthur, “I will give you what ye will ask.” - -Then was Arthur aware of a little skiff, half hidden among the bulrushes -that fringed the lake; and leaping into the boat, without aid of oar, -he was wafted out into the middle of the lake, to the place where, out -of the water, rose the arm and sword. And leaning from the skiff, he -took the sword from the hand, which forthwith vanished, and immediately -thereafter the skiff bore him back to land. - -Arthur drew from its scabbard the mighty sword, wondering at the marvel -of its workmanship, for the hilt shone with the elfin light of twinkling -gems—diamond and topaz and emerald, and many another whose name none -knows. And as he looked on the blade, Arthur was aware of mystic writings -on the one side and the other, and calling to Merlin, he bade him -interpret them. - -“Sir,” said Merlin, “on the one side is written ‘Keep me,’ and on the -other ‘Throw me away.’” - -“Then,” said the King, “which does it behoove me to do?” - -“Keep it,” answered Merlin; “the time to cast it away is not yet come. -This is the good brand Excalibur, or Cut Steel, and well shall it serve -you. But what think ye of the scabbard?” - -“A fair cover for so good a sword,” answered Arthur. - -“Nay, it is more than that,” said Merlin, “for so long as ye keep it, -though ye be wounded never so sore, yet ye shall not bleed to death.” And -when he heard that, the King marveled the more. - -Then they journeyed back to Caerleon, where the knights made great joy -of the return of their lord. And presently, thither came Sir Pellinore, -craving pardon of the King, who made but jest of his own misadventure. -And afterwards Sir Pellinore became of the Round Table, a knight vowed, -not only to deeds of hardihood, but also to gentleness and courtesy; and -faithfully he served the King, fighting ever to maintain justice and put -down wrong, and to defend the weak from the oppressor. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Historical Note.= The ancient Britons looked out from their little - island home with its protecting seas, and pictured the great unknown - world beyond as a fairyland filled with enchanted cities and - wonderful forests, and peopled by friendly fairies and magicians. - About the beginning of our Christian era the Romans came among them - for a time, teaching them obedience to law. Later, the barbarian - hordes came over the North Sea, to conquer them. But the invaders - were resisted by strong leaders among whom one by the name of Arthur - stands pre-eminent. Historians generally agree that a chieftain of - this name actually lived about the close of the fifth century or the - beginning of the sixth. Some say he was from the north, some from the - south, of England. Arthur became not only the great national hero, - but also the champion of Christianity against heathen invaders. He is - said to have united the scattered British clans and to have defeated - the invaders in twelve great battles. - - In their days of distress many of the Britons fled across the Channel - and settled among their kindred, the Bretons of northern France. - From here Welsh bards with their harps wandered throughout all - Christendom, singing of Arthur’s heroic deeds. As time went on these - tales of Arthur became blended with the fairy stories of their old - happy dream-life. When chivalry was at its height, from the twelfth - to the fifteenth century, the strolling minstrels took up the legend, - adapting it to the ideals of the times and to the tastes of their - audiences in court and castle and market place. - - In these songs and legends, Arthur appeared as a great king - surrounded at his “Table Round” with valiant knights who, under - vows of purity and holiness, went forth in daily quest of noble - deeds. Early in the twelfth century the legends were carried back to - England. A Welsh priest, Geoffrey of Monmouth, gave a form to these - tales which became widely popular, and later from this version and - others, Sir Thomas Malory wrote his story, “Le Morte D’Arthur” (The - Death of Arthur). In 1485, William Caxton, the first English printer, - published Sir Thomas’s story, which became the chief source of modern - poets who have written on this theme. Among these, the English poet, - Tennyson, in his beautiful “Idylls of the King,” has told the story - of Arthur and his knights. - - Britain at the time in which Arthur is supposed to have lived was a - land of warring tribes. Christianity had gained little more than a - foothold. It was an age in which might was greater than right. But - when Arthur’s knights went forth at the command of their king, their - aim was to overthrow the injustice and lawlessness then so common in - the land. Wonderful deeds were done by that little company of brave - men, who rode abroad “redressing wrongs.” - - =Discussion.= 1. Is there a historical basis for the stories of - Arthur? 2. How did they become interwoven with myth and legend? 3. - When Arthur became king, what was the condition of the people of - Britain? 4. Why did the barons oppose Arthur? 5. What reforms did - Arthur introduce? 6. Read lines which show that Arthur thought of - the poor as well as of the rich and the great. 7. What was the Round - Table? 8. Read the lines that tell of the vows made by the knights. - 9. What did the knights promise first? 10. Why do you think Arthur - put this first? 11. What reason did Arthur give the sorceress for - not wishing to remain longer in her castle? 12. Find a word in - this speech that explains Arthur’s life. 13. Read lines which show - Arthur’s generosity toward a foe. 14. What ideals of conduct did - these stories uphold in times when might was greater than right? 15. - Pronounce the following: joust; tournament; stanched. - - =Phrases= - - confusion alone was supreme, 92, 18 - knightly exercises, 92, 30 - pain of a fearful curse, 92, 37 - great jousts, 93, 20 - sore vexed, 93, 30 - tender you my homage, 94, 10 - foster father, 94, 31 - of that kin, 95, 8 - persisted in oppression, 95, 11 - days of misrule, 95, 14 - with pomp and ceremony, 96, 14 - men of worship, 96, 18 - put his person in adventure, 96, 19 - courted peril, 96, 24 - fulfill all her behests, 97, 3 - raise the portcullis, 97, 4 - courteous salutation, 97, 5 - fain entreat of you, 97, 17 - crave a boon of your chivalry, 97, 20 - render true obedience, 98, 4 - kept vigil, 99, 3 - bear himself meetly, 99, 4 - bear sway, 99, 11 - in league with evil, 99, 17 - petty realm, 99, 23 - by mortal means, 99, 34 - do my endeavor, 100, 11 - to have you at disadvantage, 100, 13 - dressed their shields, 100, 14 - yield thee as recreant, 100, 27 - stanched his wounds, 101, 9 - good brand Excalibur, 102, 24 - - -THE STORY OF GARETH - - -HOW BEAUMAINS CAME TO KING ARTHUR’S COURT - -King Arthur had a custom that at the feast of Pentecost he would not go -to meat until he had heard or seen a great marvel. And because of that -custom all manner of strange adventures came before him at that feast. - -So Sir Gawain, a little before noon of the day of Pentecost, saw from a -window three men on horseback and a dwarf on foot, and one of the men was -higher than the other two, by a foot and a half. Then Sir Gawain went -unto the King and said, “Sir, go to your meat, for here at hand come -strange adventures.” - -Right so came into the hall two men and upon their shoulders there -leaned the goodliest young man and the fairest that ever they all saw, -and he was tall and large and broad in the shoulders and the fairest and -largest-handed that ever man saw. - -This young man said, “King Arthur, God bless you and all your fair -fellowship. For this cause I am come hither, to pray you to give me three -gifts and they shall not be unreasonably asked, but you may honorably -grant them me. The first gift I will ask now and the other two I will ask -this day twelvemonth.” - -“Now ask,” said Arthur, “and ye shall have your asking.” - -“Sir,” said the young man, “this is my petition, that ye will give me -meat and drink for this twelvemonth, and at that day I will ask mine -other two gifts.” - -“My fair son,” said Arthur, “ask better, I counsel thee, for this is but -simple asking; for my heart tells me that thou shalt prove a man of right -great honor.” - -“Sir,” said the young man, “be that as it may, I have asked that I will -ask.” - -“Well,” said the King, “ye shall have meat and drink enough; I never -refused that to friend or foe. But what is thy name?” - -“I cannot tell you,” said the young man. - -“That is strange,” said the King, “that thou knowest not thy name and -thou art the goodliest young man that ever I saw.” - -Then the King charged Sir Kay, the steward, that he should give the young -man meat and drink of the best as though he were a lord’s son. - -“There is no need of that,” said Sir Kay, “for I am sure he is of lowly -birth. If he had come of gentlemen he would have asked of you horse and -armor, but such as he is, so he asketh. And as he hath no name I shall -name him Beaumains, that is Fair-hands, and into the kitchen I shall take -him.” - -Then was Sir Gawain wroth and Sir Lancelot bade Sir Kay stop his mocking -of the young man. But Sir Kay bade the young man sit down to meat with -the boys of the kitchen and there he ate sadly. And then Sir Lancelot -bade him come to his chamber and there he should have meat and drink -enough. And this Sir Lancelot did of his great gentleness and courtesy. -And Sir Gawain proffered him meat and drink, but he refused them both and -thus he was put into the kitchen. - -So he endured all that twelvemonth and never displeased man nor child, -but always he was meek and kindly. But ever when there was any jousting -of knights, that would he see if he might. - -So it passed on till the feast of Pentecost. On that day there came a -damsel into the hall and saluted the King and prayed for succor for her -lady who was besieged in her castle. - -“Who is your lady and what is his name who hath besieged her?” asked the -King. - -“Sir King,” she said, “my lady’s name shall ye not know from me at this -time, but the tyrant that besiegeth her and destroyeth her lands is -called the Red Knight of the Red Lands.” - -“I know him not,” said the King. - -“Sir,” said Sir Gawain, “I know him well; men say that he hath seven -men’s strength and from him I escaped once full hard with my life.” - -“Fair damsel,” said the King, “there be knights here would do their power -to rescue your lady, but because you will not tell her name, none of my -knights shall go with you by my will.” - -Then Beaumains came before the King and said, “Sir King, I have been this -twelvemonth in your kitchen and now I will ask my two gifts.” - -“Ask,” said the King, “and right gladly will I grant them.” - -“Sir, these shall be my two gifts, first that ye will grant me to have -this adventure.” - -“Thou shalt have it,” said the King. - -“Then, sir, this is the other gift, that ye shall bid Sir Lancelot to -make me knight. And I pray you let him ride after me and make me knight -when I ask him.” - -“All this shall be done,” said the King. - -“Fie on thee,” said the damsel, “shall I have none but one that is your -kitchen boy?” - -Then was she wroth and took her horse and departed from him. - -And with that there came one to Beaumains and told him his horse and -armor were come and there was the dwarf ready with all things that he -needed in the richest manner. So when he was armed there were few so -goodly men as he was. - -Then Sir Kay said all open in the hall, “I will ride after my boy of the -kitchen, to see whether he will know me for his better.” And as Beaumains -overtook the damsel, right so came Sir Kay and said, “Beaumains, what, -sir, know ye not me?” - -“Yea,” said Beaumains, “I know you for an ungentle knight of the court -and therefore beware of me.” - -Therewith Sir Kay put his spear in the rest and ran straight upon him, -and Beaumains came as fast upon him with his sword and thrust him through -the side, so that Sir Kay fell down as if he were dead and Beaumains took -Sir Kay’s shield and spear and rode on his way. - -When Sir Lancelot overtook him he proffered Sir Lancelot to joust and -they came together fiercely and fought for an hour, and Lancelot marveled -at Beaumains’ strength, for he fought more like a giant than a knight. So -Sir Lancelot said, “Beaumains, fight not so sore; your quarrel and mine -is not so great but we may leave off.” - -“Truly that is truth,” said Beaumains, “but it doth me good to feel your -might.” - -“Hope ye that I may any while stand a proved knight?” said Beaumains. - -“Yea,” said Lancelot, “do as ye have done and I shall be your warrant.” - -“Then I pray you,” said Beaumains, “give me the order of knighthood.” - -“Then must ye tell me your name,” said Lancelot. - -“Sir,” he said, “my name is Gareth, and I am brother unto Sir Gawain.” - -“Ah, sir,” said Lancelot, “I am more glad of you than I was, for ever -methought ye should be of great blood and that ye came not to the court -for meat or drink.” - -Then Sir Lancelot gave him the order of knighthood and departed from him -and came to Sir Kay and made him to be borne home upon his shield and he -was healed of his wound. - -But when Beaumains had overtaken the damsel, she said, “What dost thou -here? Thou smellest of the kitchen, thy clothes be soiled with the -grease and tallow that thou gainest in King Arthur’s kitchen. Therefore, -turn again, dirty kitchen boy; I know thee well, for Sir Kay named thee -Beaumains.” - -“Damsel,” said Beaumains, “say to me what ye will, I will not go from -you, whatever ye say, for I have undertaken to King Arthur for to achieve -your adventure and so shall I finish it to the end or I shall die -therefor.” - -So thus as they rode in the wood, there came a man flying all that ever -he might. “Whither wilt thou?” said Beaumains. - -“O lord,” he said, “help me, for six thieves have taken my lord and bound -him, so I am afraid lest they will slay him.” - -“Bring me thither,” said Beaumains. - -And so they rode together until they came where the knight was bound and -then he rode unto the thieves and slew them all and unbound the knight. -And the knight thanked him and prayed him to ride with him to his castle -and he should reward him for his good deeds. - -“Sir,” said Beaumains, “I will no reward have; I was this day made knight -of noble Sir Lancelot and therefore I will no reward have but God reward -me. Also I must follow this damsel.” - -And when he came nigh her, she bade him ride from her. “For thou smellest -of the kitchen,” she said. Then the same knight which was rescued rode -after the damsel and prayed them to lodge with him that night, and so -that night they had good cheer and rest. - -And on the morrow the damsel and Beaumains rode on their way until they -came to a great forest. And there was a river and but one passage and -there were two knights to prevent their crossing. “What sayest thou,” -said the damsel, “wilt thou match yonder knights or turn again?” - -“Nay,” said Sir Beaumains, “I will not turn again if they were six more.” -And therewith he rushed into the water and they drew their swords and -smote at each other and Sir Beaumains slew both the knights. - -“Alas,” said the damsel, “that a kitchen boy should have the fortune to -destroy two such brave knights.” - -“Damsel,” said Beaumains, “I care not what ye say, so that I may rescue -your lady.” - -“If you follow me,” said the damsel, “thou art but slain, for I see all -that ever thou dost is but by misadventure and not by might of thy hands.” - -“Well, damsel, ye may say what ye will, but wheresoever ye go, I will -follow you.” - -So Beaumains rode with that lady till evening and ever she chid him and -would not stop. And they came to a black plain and there was a black -hawthorne and thereon hung a black shield and by it stood a black spear, -great and long, and a great black horse covered with silk. - - -HOW BEAUMAINS FOUGHT WITH THE FOUR KNIGHTS - -There sat a knight all armed in black armor and his name was the Knight -of the Black Lands. And when the damsel came nigh he said, “Damsel, -have ye brought this knight of King Arthur to be your champion?” “Nay, -fair knight,” said she, “this is but a kitchen boy that was fed in King -Arthur’s kitchen for alms.” - -“Why cometh he,” said the knight, “in such array? It is shame that he -beareth you company.” - -“Sir, I cannot be delivered of him; through mishap I saw him slay two -knights at the passage of the water and other deeds he did before right -marvelous and by chance.” - -“I marvel,” said the Black Knight, “that any man that is of honor will -fight with him.” - -“They know him not,” said the damsel. - -“That may be,” said the knight, “but this much I shall grant you; I shall -put him down upon foot, and his horse and his armor he shall leave with -me, for it were shame to me to do him any more harm.” - -When Sir Beaumains heard him say thus, he said, “Sir Knight, thou art -full liberal of my horse and armor. I let thee know it cost thee nought, -and horse nor armor gettest thou none of mine unless thou win them with -thy hands.” - -Then in great wrath they departed with their horses and came together -as it had been thunder. When they had fought for an hour and a half the -Black Knight fell down off his horse in swoon and there he died. And -Beaumains armed him in his armor and took his horse and rode after the -damsel. - -When she saw him come nigh, she said, “Away, kitchen boy, for the smell -of thy clothes grieveth me. Alas, that a kitchen boy should by mishap -slay so good a knight as thou hast done.” - -“I warn you, fair damsel,” said Beaumains, “that I will not flee away nor -leave your company for all that ye can say; therefore, ride on your way, -for follow you I will, whatsoever happen.” - -Thus as they rode together they saw a knight come driving by them all in -green, both his horse and his armor, and when he came nigh the damsel, he -asked her, “Is that my brother, the Black Knight, that ye have brought -with you?” - -“Nay, nay,” she said, “this kitchen boy hath slain your brother.” - -“Ah! traitor,” said the Green Knight, “thou shalt die for slaying of my -brother.” - -“I defy thee,” said Beaumains, “for I slew him knightly and not -shamefully.” - -And then they ran together with all their might and fought a long while, -and at last Beaumains gave the Green Knight such a buffet upon the helmet -that he fell upon his knees. And then the Green Knight cried for mercy -and prayed Sir Beaumains to slay him not. - -“Fair knight,” said the Green Knight, “save my life and I will forgive -thee the death of my brother and forever be thy man, and thirty knights -that follow me shall forever do you service.” - -“Sir Knight,” said Beaumains, “all this availeth thee not unless this -damsel speak with me for thy life.” And therewith he made a motion as if -to slay him. - -“Let be,” said the damsel, “slay him not, for if thou do thou shalt -repent it.” - -Then Beaumains said, “Sir Knight, I release thee at this damsel’s -request.” - -And then the Green Knight kneeled down and did him homage with his sword, -and he said, “Ye shall lodge with me this night and tomorrow I shall help -you through this forest.” So they took their horses and rode to his manor. - -And ever the damsel rebuked Beaumains and would not allow him to sit at -her table. “I marvel,” said the Green Knight, “why ye rebuke this noble -knight as ye do, for I warn you, damsel, he is a full noble knight and -I know no knight is able to match him, therefore you do great wrong to -rebuke him.” - -And on the morrow they took their horses and rode on their way and the -Green Knight said, “My lord Beaumains, I and these thirty knights shall -be always at your summons both early and late.” - -“It is well said,” said Beaumains; “when I call upon you ye must yield -you unto King Arthur and all your knights.” - -“If ye so command us, we shall be ready at all times,” said the Green -Knight. So then departed the Green Knight. - -So within a while they saw a town as white as any snow and the lord of -the tower was in his castle and looked out at a window and saw a damsel -and a knight. So he armed him hastily. And when he was on horseback, -it was all red, both his horse and his armor. And when he came nigh -he thought it was his brother, the Black Knight, and he cried aloud, -“Brother, what do ye here?” - -“Nay, nay,” said the damsel, “it is not he. This is but a kitchen boy. He -hath killed thy brother, the Black Knight. Also I saw thy brother, the -Green Knight, overcome by him. Now may ye be revenged on him.” - -With this the knights came together with all their might and fought -furiously for two hours, so that it was wonder to see that strong battle. -Yet at the last, Sir Beaumains struck the Red Knight to the earth. And -the Red Knight cried mercy, saying, “Noble knight, slay me not, and I -shall yield me to thee with sixty knights that be at my command. And I -forgive thee all thou hast done to me, and the death of my brother, the -Black Knight.” - -“All this availeth not,” said Beaumains, “unless the damsel pray me to -save thy life.” And therewith he made a motion as if to slay him. - -“Let be,” said the damsel; “slay him not, for he is a noble knight.” - -Then Beaumains bade the Red Knight stand up and the Red Knight prayed -them to see his castle and rest there that night. And upon the morn he -came before Beaumains with his three score knights and offered him his -homage and service. - -“I thank you,” said Beaumains, “but this ye shall grant me: to come -before my lord King Arthur and yield you unto him to be his knight, when -I call upon you.” - -“Sir,” said the Red Knight, “I will be ready at your summons.” - -So Sir Beaumains departed and the damsel, and ever she rode chiding him. - -“Damsel,” said Beaumains, “ye are uncourteous to rebuke me as ye do, for -I have done you good service.” - -“Well,” said she, “right soon ye shall meet a knight who shall pay thee -all thy wages, for he is the greatest of the world, except King Arthur.” - -And soon there was before them a city rich and fair, and between them and -the city there was a fair meadow and therein were many pavilions fair to -behold. - -“Lo,” said the damsel, “yonder is a lord that owneth yonder city and his -custom is when the weather is fair to joust in this meadow. And ever -there be about him five hundred knights and gentlemen of arms.” - -“That goodly lord,” said Beaumains, “would I fain behold.” - -“Thou shalt see him time enough,” said the damsel, and so as she rode -near she saw the pavilion where he was. “Lo,” said she, “seest thou -yonder pavilion that is all blue of color, and the lord’s name is Sir -Persant, the lordliest knight that ever thou lookedst on?” - -“It may well be,” said Beaumains, “but be he never so stout a knight, in -this field I shall abide until I see him.” - -“Sir,” she said, “I marvel what thou art; boldly thou speakest and boldly -thou hast done, that have I seen; therefore I pray thee save thyself, for -thou and thy horse are weary and here I dread me sore lest ye catch some -hurt. But I must tell you that Sir Persant is nothing in might unto the -knight that laid the siege about my lady.” - -“As for that,” said Sir Beaumains, “since I have come so nigh this -knight, I will prove his might before I depart from him.” - -“Oh,” said the damsel, “I marvel what manner of man ye be, for so -shamefully did never woman treat knight as I have done you and ever -courteously ye have borne it. Alas, Sir Beaumains, forgive me all that I -have said or done against thee.” - -“With all my heart,” said he, “I forgive you and now I think there is no -knight living, but I am able enough for him.” - -When Sir Persant saw them in the field, he sent to them to know whether -Beaumains came in war or in peace. - -“Say to thy lord,” said Beaumains, “that shall be as he pleases.” - -And so Sir Persant rode against him, and his armor and trappings were -blue, and Beaumains saw him and made him ready and their horses rushed -together and they fought two hours and more. And at the last Beaumains -smote Sir Persant that he fell to the earth. Then Sir Persant yielded him -and asked mercy. With that came the damsel and prayed to save his life. - -“I will gladly,” said Beaumains, “for it were pity this noble knight -should die.” - -“Now this shall I do to please you,” said Sir Persant, “ye shall have -homage of me and an hundred knights to be always at your command.” - -And so they went to Sir Persant’s pavilion to rest that night. - -And so on the morn the damsel and Sir Beaumains took their leave. - -“Fair damsel,” said Sir Persant, “whither are ye leading this knight?” - -“Sir,” she said, “this knight is going to rescue my sister, Dame Liones, -who is besieged in the Castle Perilous.” - -“Ah,” said Sir Persant, “she is besieged by the Red Knight of the Red -Lands, a man that is without mercy, and men say that he hath seven -men’s strength. He hath been well nigh two years at this siege and he -prolongeth the time, hoping to have Sir Lancelot to do battle with him, -or Sir Tristam, or Sir Lamorak, or Sir Gawain.” - -“My lord, Sir Persant,” said the damsel, “I require that ye will make -this gentleman knight before he fight the Red Knight.” - -“I will with all my heart,” said Sir Persant, “if it please him to take -the order of knighthood from so simple a man as I am.” - -“Sir,” said Beaumains, “I thank you for your goodwill, but the noble -knight Sir Lancelot made me knight.” - -“Ah,” said Sir Persant, “of a more renowned knight might ye not be made -knight, for of all knights he may be called chief of knighthood; and so -all the world saith that betwixt three knights is knighthood divided, Sir -Lancelot, Sir Tristam, and Sir Lamorak. Therefore, God speed ye well, for -if ye conquer the Red Knight, ye shall be called the fourth of the world.” - -“Sir,” said Beaumains, “I would fain be of good fame and knighthood and -I will tell you both who I am. Truly then, my name is Gareth of Orkney, -and King Lot was my father, and my mother is King Arthur’s sister, and -Sir Gawain is my brother and so Sir Agravaine and Sir Gaheris, and I am -youngest of them all: And yet know not King Arthur nor Sir Gawain who I -am.” - - -HOW THE LADY THAT WAS BESIEGED HAD WORD FROM HER SISTER - -The lady that was besieged had word of her sister’s coming by the dwarf, -and also how the knight had passed all the perilous passages. - -“Dwarf,” said the lady, “I am glad of these things. Go thou unto my -sister and greet her well and commend me unto that gentle knight and pray -him to eat and to drink and make him strong, and say ye that I thank him -for his courtesy and goodness.” - -So the dwarf departed and told Sir Beaumains all as ye have heard and -returned to the castle again. And there met him the Red Knight of the Red -Lands and asked him where he had been. - -“Sir,” said the dwarf, “I have been with my lady’s sister of this castle, -and she hath been at King Arthur’s court and brought a knight with her.” - -“Then I count her labor but lost, for though she had brought with her Sir -Lancelot, Sir Tristam, Sir Lamorak, or Sir Gawain, I would think myself -good enough for them all.” - -“It may well be,” said the dwarf, “but this knight hath passed all the -perilous passages and slain the Black Knight and won the Green Knight, -the Red Knight, and the Blue Knight.” - -“Then is he one of the four that I have named.” - -“He is none of those,” said the dwarf. - -“What is his name?” said the Red Knight. - -“That will I not tell you,” said the dwarf. - -“I care not,” said the Red Knight, “what knight soever he be, he shall -have a shameful death as many others have had.” - -And then Beaumains and the damsel came to a plain and saw many tents and -a fair castle and there was much smoke and great noise and as they came -near they saw upon great trees there hung nigh forty goodly armed knights. - -“Fair sir,” said the damsel, “all these knights came to this siege to -rescue my sister, and when the Red Knight of the Red Lands had overcome -them, he put them to this shameful death without mercy or pity.” - -“Truly,” said Beaumains, “he useth shameful customs and it is marvel that -none of the noble knights of my lord Arthur have dealt with him.” - -And there was near by a sycamore tree and there hung a horn and this Red -Knight had hanged it up there, that if there came any errant knight he -must blow that horn and then he would make him ready and come to him to -do battle. - -“Sir, I pray you,” said the damsel, “blow ye not the horn till it be high -noon, for his strength increaseth until noon, and at this time men say he -hath seven men’s strength.” - -“Ah, for shame, fair damsel, say ye so never more to me, for I will win -honorably, or die knightly in the field.” - -Therewith he blew the horn so eagerly that the castle rang with the sound. - -Then the Red Knight armed him hastily and all was blood red, his armor, -spear, and shield. - -“Sir,” said the damsel, “yonder is your deadly enemy and at yonder window -is my sister.” - -With that the Red Knight of the Red Lands called to Sir Beaumains, “Sir -knight, I warn thee that for this lady I have done many strong battles.” - -“If thou have so done,” said Beaumains, “it was but waste labor, and -know, thou Red Knight of the Red Lands, I will rescue her or die.” - -Then Sir Beaumains bade the damsel go from him, and then they put their -spears in their rests and came together with all their might. - -Then they fought till it was past noon and when they had rested a while -they returned to the battle till evening, but at last Sir Beaumains smote -the sword out of the Red Knight’s hand and smote him on the helmet, so -that he fell to the earth. - -Then the Red Knight said in a loud voice, “O noble knight, I yield me to -thy mercy.” - -But Sir Beaumains said, “I may not with honor save thy life, for the -shameful deaths thou hast caused many good knights to die.” - -“Sir,” said the Red Knight, “hold your hand and ye shall know the causes -why I put them to so shameful a death.” - -“Say on,” said Sir Beaumains. - -“Sir, a lady prayed me that I would make her a promise by the faith of my -knighthood that I would labor daily in arms, until I met Sir Lancelot or -Sir Gawain, who, she said, had slain her brother, and this is the cause -that I have put all these knights to death. And now I will tell thee that -every day my strength increaseth till noon and all this time have I seven -men’s strength.” - -Then there came many earls and barons and noble knights and prayed Sir -Beaumains to save his life. - -“Sir,” they said, “it were fairer to take homage and let him hold his -lands of you than to slay him; by his death ye shall have no advantage, -and his misdeeds that be done may not be undone, and therefore he shall -make amends to all parties and we all will become your men and do you -homage.” - -“Fair lords” said Beaumains, “I am loath to slay this knight; -nevertheless he hath done shamefully, but insomuch all that he did was -at a lady’s request, I will release him upon this condition, that he go -within the castle and yield him to the lady, and if she will forgive him, -I will. And also when that is done, that ye go unto the court of King -Arthur and there that you ask Sir Lancelot mercy and Sir Gawain, for the -evil will ye have had against them.” - -“Sir,” said the Red Knight, “all this will I do as ye command.” - -And so within a while the Red Knight went into the castle and promised -to make amends for all that had been done against the lady. And then -he departed unto the court of King Arthur and told openly how he was -overcome and by whom. - -Then said King Arthur and Sir Gawain, “We marvel much of what blood he is -come, for he is a noble knight.” - -“He is come of full noble blood,” said Sir Lancelot, “and as for his -might and hardiness, there be but few now living so mighty as he is.” - - -HOW AT THE FEAST OF PENTECOST ALL THE KNIGHTS THAT SIR GARETH HAD -OVERCOME CAME AND YIELDED THEM TO KING ARTHUR - -So leave we Sir Beaumains and turn we unto King Arthur, that at the -next feast of Pentecost held his feast, and there came the Green Knight -with thirty knights and yielded them all unto King Arthur. And so there -came the Red Knight, his brother, and yielded him unto King Arthur and -threescore knights with him. Also there came the Blue Knight, brother to -them, with an hundred knights and yielded them unto King Arthur. - -These three brethren told King Arthur how they were overcome by a knight -that a damsel had with her and called him Beaumains. - -“I wonder,” said the King, “what knight he is and of what lineage he is -come.” - -So, right as the King stood talking with these three brothers, there came -Sir Lancelot and told the King that there was come a goodly lord and six -hundred knights with him. - -Then this lord saluted the King. - -“Sir,” he said, “my name is the Red Knight of the Red Lands, and here I -am sent by a knight that is called Beaumains, for he won me in battle -hand for hand.” - -“Ye are welcome,” said the King, “for ye have long been a great foe to me -and my court and now I trust to God I shall so treat you that ye shall be -my friend.” - -“Sir, both I and these knights shall always be at your summons to do you -service.” - -“Then I shall make thee a knight of the Table Round, but thou must be no -more a murderer.” - -“Sir, as to that, I have promised Sir Beaumains never more to use such -customs and I must go unto Sir Lancelot and to Sir Gawain and ask them -forgiveness of the evil will I had unto them.” - -“They be here now,” said the King, “before thee; now may ye say to them -what ye will.” - -And then he kneeled down unto Sir Lancelot and Sir Gawain and prayed for -forgiveness for the enmity that he had against them. - - -HOW THE QUEEN OF ORKNEY CAME TO THE FEAST - -So then they went to meat, and as they sat at the meat there came in the -Queen of Orkney with ladies and knights, a great number. And then Sir -Gawain, Sir Agravaine, and Sir Gaheris arose and went to her and saluted -her upon their knees and asked her blessing, for in fifteen years they -had not seen her. - -Then she spake to her brother, King Arthur, “Where is my young son, Sir -Gareth? He was here a twelvemonth, and ye made a kitchen boy of him, -which is shame to you all. Alas, where is my dear son that was my joy and -my bliss?” - -“O dear mother,” said Sir Gawain, “I knew him not.” “Nor I,” said the -King, “but thank God he is proved an honorable knight as any now living -of his years, and I shall never be glad until I find him.” - -“Ah, brother,” said the Queen, “ye did yourself great shame when you kept -my son in the kitchen.” - -“Fair sister,” said the King, “I knew him not, nor did Sir Gawain. Also, -sister, ye might have told me of his coming and then, if I had not done -well to him, ye might have blamed me. For when he came to my court, he -asked me three gifts and one he asked the same day; that was, that I -would give him meat enough for that twelvemonth, and the other two gifts -he asked that day a twelvemonth and that was that he might have the -adventure for the damsel, and the third was that Sir Lancelot should make -him knight when he desired him. And so I granted him all his desire.” - -“Sir,” said the Queen, “I sent him to you well armed and horsed and gold -and silver plenty to spend.” - -“It may be,” said the King, “but thereof saw we none, save the day he -departed from us, knights told me that there came a dwarf hither suddenly -and brought him armor and a good horse, and thereat we all had marvel -from whence those riches came.” - -“Brother,” said the Queen, “all that ye say I believe, but I marvel that -Sir Kay did mock and scorn him and gave him that so name Beaumains.” - -“By the grace of God,” said Arthur, “he shall be found, so let all this -pass and be merry, for he is proved to be a man of honor and that is my -joy.” - -Then said Sir Gawain and his brethren to Arthur, “Sir, if ye will give us -leave, we will go and seek our brother.” - -“Nay,” said Sir Lancelot, “that shall ye not need, for by my advice the -King shall send unto Dame Liones a messenger and pray that she will come -to the court in all the haste that she may and then she may give you best -counsel where to find him.” - -“That is well said of you,” said the King. - -So the messenger was sent forth and night and day he went until he came -to the Castle Perilous. And the lady was there with her brother and Sir -Gareth. When she understood the message she went to her brother and Sir -Gareth and told them how King Arthur had sent for her. - -“That is because of me,” said Sir Gareth. “I pray you do not let them -know where I am. I know my mother is there and all my brethren and they -will take upon them to seek me.” - -So the lady departed and came to King Arthur, where she was nobly -received and there she was questioned by the King. And she answered that -she could not tell where Sir Gareth was. But she said to Arthur, “Sir, I -will have a tournament proclaimed to take place before my castle and the -proclamation shall be this: that you, my lord Arthur, shall be there and -your knights; and I will provide that my knights shall be against yours -and then I am sure ye shall hear of Sir Gareth.” - -“That is well advised,” said King Arthur, and so she departed. - -When the Lady Liones returned to her home, she told what she had done and -the promise she had made to King Arthur. Then Sir Gareth sent unto Sir -Persant, the Blue Knight, and summoned him and his knights. Then he sent -unto the Red Knight and charged him that he be ready with all his knights. - -Then the Red Knight answered and said, “Sir Gareth, ye shall understand -that I have been at the court of King Arthur and Sir Persant and his -brethren and there we have done our homage as ye commanded us. Also, I -have taken upon me with Sir Persant and his brethren to hold part against -my lord, Sir Lancelot and the knights of that court. And this have I done -for the love of you, my lord Sir Gareth.” - -“Ye have well done,” said Sir Gareth, “but you must know you shall be -matched with the most noble knights of the world; therefore we must -provide us with good knights, wherever we may get them.” - -So the proclamation was made in England, Wales, Scotland, Ireland, and -in Brittany, that men should come to the Castle Perilous and all the -knights should have the choice whether to be on the one party with the -knights of the castle or on the other party with King Arthur. And so -there came many good knights and chose to be on the side of the castle -and against King Arthur and his knights. - - -HOW KING ARTHUR WENT TO THE TOURNAMENT - -And there came with King Arthur many kings, princes, earls, barons, and -other noble knights. Then Sir Gareth prayed Dame Liones and the Red -Knight and Sir Persant that none should tell his name and that they -should make no more of him than of the least knight that was there. - -Upon the day of the tournament the heralds sounded the trumpets to call -the knights to the field. After many noble knights had encountered, Sir -Gareth came upon the field. All the knights that encountered him were -overthrown. - -“That knight is a good knight,” said King Arthur. - -Wherefore the King called unto him Sir Lancelot and prayed him to -encounter with that knight. - -“Sir,” said Lancelot, “when a good knight doth so well upon some day, -it is no good knight’s part to prevent him from receiving honor, and -therefore, as for me, this day he shall have the honor; though it lay in -my power to hinder him, I would not.” - -Then betwixt many knights there was strong battle, and marvelous deeds of -arms were done. And two knights, who were brothers, assailed Sir Lancelot -at once and he, as the noblest knight of the world, fought with them -both, so that all men wondered at the nobility of Sir Lancelot. And then -came in Sir Gareth and knew that it was Sir Lancelot that fought with the -two strong knights. So Sir Gareth came with his good horse and hurled -them apart and no stroke would he smite to Sir Lancelot. - -Sir Lancelot saw this and thought it must be the good Knight Sir Gareth -and Sir Gareth rode here and there and smote on the right hand and on the -left hand, so that all men said he best did his duty. - -“Now go,” said King Arthur unto the heralds, “and ride about him and see -what manner of knight he is, for I have inquired of many knights this day -that be of his party and all say they know him not.” - -And so a herald rode as near Sir Gareth as he could and there he saw -written upon his helmet in gold, “Sir Gareth of Orkney.” Then the herald -cried and many heralds with him, “This is Sir Gareth of Orkney.” Then all -the kings and knights pressed to behold him and ever the heralds cried, -“This is Sir Gareth of Orkney, King Lot’s son.” - -When Sir Gareth saw that he was known, then he doubled his strokes and -with great difficulty made his way out of the crowd, and rode into the -forest. And then fell there a thunder and rain as though heaven and earth -should go together. - -Sir Gareth was not a little weary, for all that day he had but little -rest, neither his horse nor he, and he rode in the forest until night -came. And ever it lightened and thundered but at last by fortune he came -to a castle. - - -HOW SIR GARETH CAME TO A CASTLE WHERE HE WAS WELL LODGED - -Then Sir Gareth rode into the courtyard of the castle and prayed the -porter to let him in. The porter answered, “Thou gettest no lodging here.” - -“Fair sir, say not so, for I am a knight of King Arthur’s, and pray the -lord or the lady of this castle to give me lodging for the love of King -Arthur.” - -Then the porter went unto the lady and told her there was a knight of -King Arthur’s would have lodging. - -“Let him enter,” said the lady, “for King Arthur’s sake.” - -Then she went up into a tower over the gate with great torchlight. When -Sir Gareth saw the light he cried aloud, “Whether thou be lord or lady, -giant or champion, I care not, so that I may have lodging this night; and -if it so be that I must fight, spare me not tomorrow when I have rested, -for both I and mine horse be weary.” - -“Sir Knight,” said the lady, “thou speakest knightly and boldly, but the -lord of this castle loveth not King Arthur nor his court, for my lord -hath been ever against him and therefore thou were better not to come -within this castle, for if thou come in this night, then wherever thou -meet my lord, thou must yield thee to him as prisoner.” - -“Madam,” said Sir Gareth, “what is your lord’s name?” - -“Sir, my lord’s name is the Duke de la Rowse.” - -“Well, madam,” said Sir Gareth, “I shall promise you in whatever place -I meet your lord, I shall yield me unto him and to his good grace, if I -understand he will do me no harm; and if I understand that he will, I -will release myself if I can, with my spear and my sword.” - -“Ye say well,” said the lady, and then she let the drawbridge down and -he rode into the hall and there he alit, and his horse was led into a -stable. And in the hall he unarmed him and said, “Madam, I will not go -out of this hall this night, and when it is daylight, whoever will fight -me shall find me ready.” - -Then was he set unto supper and had many good dishes, and so when he had -supped, he rested him all night. And on the morn he took his leave and -thanked the lady for her lodging and good cheer and then she asked him -his name. - -“Madam,” he said, “truly my name is Gareth of Orkney and some men call me -Beaumains.” - -So Sir Gareth departed and by fortune he came to a mountain and there he -found a goodly knight, who said, “Abide, sir knight, and joust with me.” - -“What are ye called?” said Sir Gareth. - -“My name is the Duke de la Rowse.” - -“Ah, sir, I lodged in your castle and there I made promise unto your lady -that I should yield me unto you.” - -“Ah,” said the duke, “art thou that proud knight that offerest to fight -with my knights? Make thee ready, for I will fight with you.” - -So they did battle together more than an hour and at last Sir Gareth -smote the duke to earth and the duke yielded to him. - -“Then must ye go,” said Sir Gareth, “unto King Arthur, my lord, at the -next feast and say that I, Sir Gareth of Orkney, sent you unto him.” - -“It shall be done,” said the duke, “and I will do homage to you, and -a hundred knights with me, and all the days of my life do you service -wherever you command me.” - - -HOW SIR GARETH AND SIR GAWAIN FOUGHT EACH AGAINST OTHER - -So the duke departed and Sir Gareth stood there alone and then he saw an -armed knight coming toward him. Then Sir Gareth mounted upon his horse -and they ran together as it had been thunder. And so they fought two -hours. At last came the damsel, who rode with Sir Gareth so long, and she -cried, “Sir Gawain, Sir Gawain, leave thy fighting with thy brother Sir -Gareth.” - -And when he heard her say so he threw away his shield and his sword and -ran to Sir Gareth and took him in his arms and then kneeled down and -asked for mercy. - -“Who are ye,” said Sir Gareth, “that right now were so strong and so -mighty and now so suddenly yield you to me?” - -“O Gareth, I am your brother, Gawain, that for your sake have had great -sorrow and labor.” - -Then Sir Gareth unlaced his helmet and kneeled down to him and asked for -mercy. Then they rose and embraced each other and wept a great while and -either of them gave the other the prize of the battle. And there were -many kind words between them. - -“Alas, my fair brother,” said Sir Gawain, “I ought of right to honor you, -if you were not my brother, for ye have honored King Arthur and all his -court, for ye have sent him more honorable knights this twelvemonth than -six of the best of the Round Table have done except Sir Lancelot.” - -Then the damsel went to King Arthur, who was but two miles thence. And -when she told him of Sir Gawain and Sir Gareth, the King mounted a horse -and bade the lords and ladies come after, who that would, and there was -saddling and bridling of queens’ horses and princes’ horses and well was -he that was soonest ready. - -And when the King came nigh Sir Gareth, he made great joy and ever he -wept as if he were a child. With that came Gareth’s mother and when she -saw Gareth she might not weep, but suddenly fell down in a swoon and lay -there a great while, as if she were dead. And then Sir Gareth comforted -his mother in such wise that she recovered and made good cheer. - -Then made Sir Lancelot great cheer of Sir Gareth and he of him, for there -was never knight that Sir Gareth loved so well as he did Sir Lancelot, -and ever for the most part he would be in Sir Lancelot’s company. - -And this Sir Gareth was a noble knight and a well-ruled and -fair-languaged. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Discussion.= 1. What classes of people are mentioned in this story? - 2. Were the people of one class on terms of equality with those of - another class? Do all have equal opportunities under such a system? - 3. Upon what ideal was our government founded? 4. What reason can - you give for Gareth’s wish to keep his name and rank secret? 5. One - who wished to become a knight must first prove himself worthy of the - honor; would it be easy for a kitchen boy to give this proof? 6. - If, under such circumstances, he won the honor, could he feel sure - that he had rightfully earned it? 7. What is the test to apply in - judging others? 8. What characters in the story made rank their test? - 9. Which one of these acknowledged the mistake? 10. How did Arthur, - Lancelot, and Gawain judge Gareth? 11. Point out lines that help to - portray the character of Gareth by showing: (1) that he wished to win - knighthood through ability, not through influence of his rank and - wealth; (2) that he would take no reward for helping the distressed; - (3) that he was not afraid when outnumbered; (4) that he could not be - turned from his purpose by ridicule or injustice; (5) that he granted - mercy to those who asked it; (6) that he would not take an unfair - advantage of an opponent; (7) that he was always courteous; (8) that - he was ready to forgive wrongs done to him; (9) that he desired to - help in righting wrongs in Arthur’s kingdom. 12. What reasons had - Arthur for founding such an order as the Knights of the Round Table? - 13. Is it necessary now to become a member of such an order if one - wishes to help right wrongs? 14. Read the lines that tell of Gareth’s - love for Sir Lancelot. - - =Phrases= - - ungentle knight, 107, 21 - fight not so sore, 107, 31 - your warrant, 108, 1 - achieve your adventure, 108, 21 - to be your champion, 109, 30 - in such array, 109, 33 - slew him knightly, 110, 33 - be thy man, 111, 4 - uncourteous to rebuke, 112, 26 - errant knight, 116, 1 - make amends, 117, 9 - tournament proclaimed, 120, 15 - to encounter with that knight, 121, 18 - well-ruled and fair-languaged, 125, 8 - - -THE PEERLESS KNIGHT LANCELOT - - -THE TOURNAMENT AT WINCHESTER - -King Arthur proclaimed a great joust and a tournament that should be held -at Camelot, that is Winchester; and the King said that he and the King of -Scots would joust against all that would come against them. And when this -proclamation was made, thither came many knights. - -So King Arthur made him ready to depart to these jousts, but Sir -Lancelot would not ride with the King, for he said he was suffering from -a grievous wound. And so the King departed toward Winchester with his -fellowship and by the way he lodged in a town called Astolat. - -And upon the morn early Sir Lancelot departed and rode until he came to -Astolat and there it happened in the evening, he came to the castle of an -old baron, who was called Sir Bernard of Astolat. As Sir Lancelot entered -into his lodging, King Arthur saw him and knew him full well. - -“It is well,” said King Arthur unto the knights that were with him. “I -have now seen one knight that will play his play at the jousts to which -we are going. I undertake he will do great marvels.” - -“Who is that, we pray you tell us?” said many knights that were there at -that time. - -“Ye shall not know from me,” said the King, “at this time.” - -And so the King smiled and went to his lodging. - -So when Sir Lancelot was in his lodging and unarmed him in his chamber, -the old baron came to him and welcomed him in the best manner, but the -old knight knew not Sir Lancelot. - -“Fair sir,” said Sir Lancelot to his host, “I would pray you to lend me a -shield that were not openly known, for mine is well known.” - -“Sir,” said his host, “ye shall have your desire for meseemeth ye be one -of the likeliest knights of the world and therefore I shall show you -friendship. Sir, I have two sons that were but late made knights and -the elder is called Sir Torre and he was hurt that same day he was made -knight, that he may not ride and his shield ye shall have, for that is -not known, I dare say, but here, and in no place else. And my younger son -is called Lavaine and if it please you, he shall ride with you unto the -jousts and he is of age and strong and brave; for much my heart giveth -unto you that ye be a noble knight. Therefore, I pray you tell me your -name,” said Sir Bernard. - -“As for that,” said Sir Lancelot, “ye must hold me excused at this time -and if God give me grace to speed well at the jousts, I shall come again -and tell you. But, I pray you, in any wise, let me have your son, Sir -Lavaine, with me and that I may have his brother’s shield.” - -“All this shall be done,” said Sir Bernard. - -This old baron had a daughter that was called at that time the fair -maiden of Astolat and her name was Elaine. So this maiden besought Sir -Lancelot to wear upon him at the jousts a token of hers. - -“Fair damsel,” said Sir Lancelot, “if I grant you that, I will do more -for you than ever I did for lady.” - -Then he remembered him he would go to the jousts disguised. And because -he had never before that time borne the token of any lady, then he -bethought him that he would wear one of hers, that none of his blood -thereby might know him. And then he said, “Fair maiden, I will grant you -to wear a token of yours upon mine helmet and therefore what it is, show -it me.” - -“Sir,” she said, “it is a sleeve of mine, of scarlet, well embroidered -with great pearls.” - -And so she brought it him. So Sir Lancelot received it and gave the -maiden his shield in keeping, and he prayed her to keep that until he -came again. - -So upon a day, on the morn, King Arthur and all his knights departed, for -the King had tarried three days to abide his noble knights. And so when -the King had gone, Sir Lancelot and Sir Lavaine made them ready to ride -and either of them had white shields, and the red sleeve Sir Lancelot -carried with him. So they took their leave of Sir Bernard, the old -baron, and of his daughter the fair maiden of Astolat. - -And then they rode till they came to Camelot and there was a great press -of kings, dukes, earls, and barons and many noble knights. But there Sir -Lancelot was lodged by means of Sir Lavaine with a rich burgess so that -no man in that town knew who they were. And so they reposed them there, -till the day of the tournament. - -So the trumpets blew unto the field and King Arthur was set on a high -place to behold who did best. Then some of the kings were that time -turned upon the side of King Arthur. And then on the other party were the -King of Northgalis and the King of the Hundred Knights and the King of -Northumberland and Sir Galahad, the noble prince. But these three kings -and this duke were passing weak to hold against King Arthur’s party, for -with him were the noblest knights of the world. - -So then they withdrew them, either party from other, and every man made -him ready in his best manner to do what he might. Then Sir Lancelot made -him ready and put the red sleeve upon his head and fastened it fast; and -so Sir Lancelot and Sir Lavaine departed out of Winchester and rode into -a little leaved wood behind the party that held against King Arthur’s -party, and there they held them still till the parties smote together. - -And then came in the King of Scots and the King of Ireland on Arthur’s -party and against them came the King of Northumberland, and the King with -the Hundred Knights smote down the King of Ireland. So there began a -strong assail upon both parties. And there came in together many knights -of the Table Round and beat back the King of Northumberland and the King -of Northgalis. - -When Sir Lancelot saw this, he said unto Sir Lavaine, “See, yonder is a -company of good knights and they hold them together as boars that were -chased with dogs.” - -“That is truth,” said Sir Lavaine. - -“Now,” said Sir Lancelot, “if ye will help me a little, ye shall see -yonder fellowship that chaseth now these men on our side, that they shall -go as fast backward as they went forward.” - -“Sir, spare not,” said Sir Lavaine, “for I shall do what I may.” - -Then Sir Lancelot and Sir Lavaine came in at the thickest of the press -and there Sir Lancelot smote down five knights and all this he did with -one spear; and Sir Lavaine smote down two knights. And then Sir Lancelot -got another spear and there he smote down four knights and Sir Lavaine -smote one. - -And then Sir Lancelot drew his sword and there he smote on the right hand -and on the left hand and by great force he unhorsed three knights; and -then the knights of the Table Round withdrew them back, after they had -gotten their horses as well as they might. - -“Oh,” said Sir Gawain, “what knight is yonder that doth such, marvelous -deeds of arms in that field?” - -“I know well who he is,” said King Arthur, “but at this time I will not -name him.” - -“Sir,” said Sir Gawain, “I would say it were Sir Lancelot by his riding -and the blows I see him deal, but ever meseemeth it should not be he, for -that he beareth the red sleeve upon his head, for I know he never wore -token of lady at a joust.” - -“Let him be,” said King Arthur; “he will be better known and do more, or -ever he depart.” - -Then the party that was against King Arthur was well comforted and then -they held them together that beforehand were sore pressed. So nine -knights of Lancelot’s kin thrust in mightily, for they were all noble -knights; and they, of great hate that they had unto him, thought to -rebuke that noble knight, Sir Lancelot, and Sir Lavaine, for they knew -them not. And so they came charging together and smote down many knights -of Northgalis and Northumberland. - -And when Sir Lancelot saw them fare so, he took a spear in his hand and -there encountered with him all at once, Sir Bors, Sir Ector, and Sir -Lionel, and all they three smote him at once with their spears. - -And with force of themselves they smote Sir Lancelot’s horse to the earth -and by misfortune Sir Bors smote Sir Lancelot through the shield into the -side and the spear broke and the head was left in his side. - -When Sir Lavaine saw his master lie on the ground, he ran to the King of -Scots and smote him to the earth; and by great force he took his horse -and brought it to Sir Lancelot, and in spite of them all he made him to -mount upon that horse. And then Sir Lancelot took a spear in his hand and -there he smote Sir Bors, horse and man, to the earth. In the same wise he -served Sir Ector and Sir Lionel. - -And then Sir Lancelot drew his sword, for he felt himself so sore and -hurt that he thought there to have had his death. And he smote down three -knights more, but by this was Sir Bors horsed and then he came with -Sir Ector and Sir Lionel and all they three smote with swords upon Sir -Lancelot’s helmet. And when he felt their buffets and his wound, which -was so grievous, then he thought to do what he might, while he might -endure. - -And then he gave Sir Bors such a buffet that he made him bow his head -passing low; and therewith he smote off his helmet and might have slain -him; and so pulled him down, and in the same wise he served Sir Ector and -Sir Lionel. For he might have slain them, but when he saw their faces his -heart might not serve him thereto, but left them there. - -And so afterward he hurled into the thickest press of them all and -did there the most marvelous deeds of arms that ever man saw or heard -speak of, and ever Sir Lavaine, the good knight, with him. And there -Sir Lancelot with his sword smote down and pulled down more than thirty -knights and the most part were of the Table Round; and Sir Lavaine did -full well that day, for he smote down ten knights of the Table Round. - -“I marvel,” said Sir Gawain, “what knight that is with the red sleeve.” - -“Sir,” said King Arthur, “he will be known before he depart.” - -And then the trumpets blew and the prize was given by heralds unto the -knight with the white shield that bore the red sleeve. Then came the -King with the Hundred Knights, the King of Northgalis and the King of -Northumberland and Sir Galahad, the noble prince, and said unto Sir -Lancelot, “Fair knight, God thee bless, for much have you done this day -for us; therefore, we pray you that ye will come with us, that ye may -receive the honor and the prize, as ye have honorably deserved it.” - -“My fair lords,” said Sir Lancelot, “if I have deserved thanks, I have -sore bought it; and that me repenteth, for I am like never to escape with -my life; therefore, fair lords, I pray you that ye will suffer me to -depart where me liketh, for I am sore hurt. I care for no honor, for I -would more gladly repose me than to be lord of all the world.” - -And therewithal he groaned piteously and rode away from them until he -came to a wood. And when he saw that he was from the field nigh a mile, -that he was sure he might not be seen, then he said, “O gentle knight, -Sir Lavaine, help me that this spear were out of my side, for it slayeth -me.” - -“O mine own lord,” said Sir Lavaine, “I would fain do that might please -you, but I dread me sore, if I pull out the spear, that ye shall be in -peril of death.” - -“I charge you,” said Sir Lancelot, “as ye love me, draw it out.” - -And therewithal he descended from his horse and right so did Sir Lavaine; -and forthwith Sir Lavaine drew the spear out of his side and he gave a -great shriek and so swooned, pale and deadly. - -“Alas,” said Sir Lavaine, “what shall I do?” - -And so at the last Sir Lancelot cast up his eyes and said, “O Lavaine, -help me that I were on my horse, for here is fast by within this two -miles a gentle hermit, that sometime was a full noble knight and a great -lord of possessions. And for great goodness he hath taken him to poverty -and his name is Sir Baudwin of Brittany and he is a full noble surgeon. -Now let see, help me up that I were there, for ever my heart telleth me -that I shall never die of my cousin’s hands.” - -And then with great pain Sir Lavaine helped him upon his horse. And then -they rode together and so by fortune they came to that hermitage, the -which was in a wood and a great cliff on the other side and fair water -running under it. And Sir Lavaine beat on the gate and there came a fair -child to them and asked them what they would. - -“Fair son,” said Sir Lavaine, “go and pray thy lord, the hermit, to let -in here a knight that is full sore wounded; and this day, tell thy lord, -I saw him do more deeds of arms than ever I heard say that any man did.” - -So the child went in lightly and then he brought the hermit, the which -was a passing good man. When Sir Lavaine saw him, he prayed him for -succor. - -“What knight is he?” said the hermit. “Is he of the house of Arthur or -not?” - -“I know not,” said Sir Lavaine, “what is he or what is his name, but well -I know I saw him do marvelously this day, as of deeds of arms.” - -“On whose party was he?” said the hermit. - -“Sir,” said Lavaine, “he was this day against King Arthur and there he -won the prize from all the knights of the Round Table.” - -“I have seen the day,” said the hermit, “I would have loved him the worse -because he was against my lord, King Arthur, for sometime I was one of -the fellowship of the Round Table, but I thank God, now I am otherwise -disposed. But where is he? Let me see him.” - -And when the hermit beheld him, he thought that he should know him, but -he could not bring him to knowledge because he was so pale. - -“What knight are ye?” said the hermit. - -“My fair lord,” said Lancelot, “I am a stranger and a knight adventurous, -that laboreth throughout many realms for to win honor.” - -Then the hermit saw by a wound on his cheek that he was Sir Lancelot. - -“Alas,” said the hermit, “mine own lord, why conceal you your name from -me? Forsooth, I ought to know you of right, for ye are the noblest knight -of the world, for well I know you for Sir Lancelot.” - -“Sir,” said he, “since ye know me, help me if ye can, for I would be out -of this pain at once, either to death or to life.” - -“Have ye no doubt,” said the hermit, “ye shall live and fare right well.” - -And so the hermit called to him two of his servants and they bore him -into the hermitage and lightly unarmed him and laid him in his bed. And -then anon the hermit stanched his blood and soon Sir Lancelot was well -refreshed and knew himself. - -Now turn we unto King Arthur and leave we Sir Lancelot in the hermitage. -So when the kings were come together on both parties and the great feast -should be held, King Arthur asked the King of Northgalis and their -fellowship, where was that knight that bore the red sleeve. - -“Bring him before me, that he may have his praise and honor and the prize -as it is right.” - -Then spake Sir Galahad, the noble prince, “We suppose that knight is -injured and that he is never like to see you nor any of us all, and that -is the greatest pity that ever we knew of any knight.” - -“Alas,” said Arthur, “how may this be? Is he so hurt? What is his name?” - -“Truly,” said they all, “we know not his name, nor from whence he came -nor whither he went.” - -“Alas,” said the King, “this be to me the worst tidings that came to me -this seven year, for I would not for all the lands I possess to know that -that noble knight were slain.” - -“Know ye him?” said they all. - -“As for that,” said Arthur, “whether I know him or not, ye shall not know -from me what man he is, but God send me good tidings of him.” - -“If it so be that the good knight be so sore hurt,” said Sir Gawain, “it -is great damage and pity to all this land, for he is one of the noblest -knights that ever I saw in a field handle a spear or a sword; and if he -may be found, I shall find him, for I am sure he is not far from this -town.” - -Right so Sir Gawain took a squire with him and rode all about Camelot -within six or seven miles, but so he came again and could hear no word -of him. Then within two days King Arthur and all the fellowship returned -unto London again. - -And so as they rode by the way, it happened that Sir Gawain lodged with -Sir Bernard where was Sir Lancelot lodged. And Sir Bernard and his -daughter, Elaine, came to him to cheer him and to ask him who did best at -that tournament. - -“There were two knights,” said Sir Gawain, “that bore two white shields, -but one of them bore a red sleeve upon his head and certainly he was one -of the best knights that ever I saw joust in field. For I dare say, that -one knight with the red sleeve smote down forty knights of the Table -Round and his fellow did right well and honorably.” - -“Now I thank God,” said Elaine, “that that knight sped so well.” - -“Know ye his name?” said Sir Gawain. - -“Nay, truly,” said the maiden, “I know not his name, nor whence he -cometh.” - -“Tell me, then, how had ye knowledge of him first?” said Sir Gawain. - -Then she told him as ye have heard before, and how her father intrusted -her brother to him to do him service and how her father lent him her -brother’s shield, “And here with me he left his shield,” she said. - -“For what cause did he so?” said Sir Gawain. - -“For this cause,” said the damsel, “for his shield was too well known -among many noble knights.” - -“Ah, fair damsel,” said Sir Gawain, “please it you let me have a sight of -that shield.” - -So when the shield was come, Sir Gawain knew it was Sir Lancelot’s shield. - -“Ah,” said Sir Gawain, “now is my heart heavier than ever it was before.” - -“Why?” said Elaine. - -“I have great cause,” said Sir Gawain; “the knight that owneth this -shield is the most honorable knight of the world.” - -“So I thought ever,” said Elaine. - -“But I dread me,” said Sir Gawain, “that ye shall never see him in this -world and that is the greatest pity that ever was of earthly knight.” - -“Alas,” said she, “how may this be? Is he slain?” - -“I say not so,” said Sir Gawain, “but he is grievously wounded and -more likely to be dead than to be alive and he is the noble knight, Sir -Lancelot, for by this shield I know him.” - -“Alas,” said Elaine, “how may this be and what was his hurt?” - -“Truly,” said Sir Gawain, “the man in the world that loved him best, -hurt him so, and I dare say, if that knight that hurt him knew that he -had hurt Sir Lancelot, it would be the most sorrow that ever came to his -heart.” - -“Now, fair father,” said Elaine, “I require you give me leave to ride and -to seek him and my brother, Sir Lavaine.” - -“Do as it liketh you,” said her father, “for me sore repenteth of the -hurt of that noble knight.” - -Then on the morn Sir Gawain came to King Arthur and told him how he had -found Sir Lancelot’s shield in the keeping of the fair maiden of Astolat. - -“All that I knew beforehand,” said King Arthur, “for I saw him when he -came to his lodging full late in the evening, in Astolat.” - -So the King and all came to London and there Sir Gawain openly disclosed -to all the Court, that it was Sir Lancelot that jousted best. - -And when Sir Bors heard that, he was a sorrowful man and so were all his -kinsmen. And Sir Bors said, “I will haste me to seek him and find him -wheresoever he be and God send me good tidings of him.” - - -SIR LANCELOT AT THE HERMITAGE - -And so we will leave Sir Bors and speak of Sir Lancelot that lay in great -peril. So as Elaine came to Winchester she sought there all about, and by -fortune, Sir Lavaine rode forth to exercise his horse. And anon as Elaine -saw him she knew him, and she called to him. When he heard her, he came -to her and then she asked her brother how did his lord, Sir Lancelot. - -“Who told you, sister, that my lord’s name was Sir Lancelot?” - -Then she told how Sir Gawain by his shield knew him. So they rode -together until they came to the hermitage. So Sir Lavaine brought her in -to Sir Lancelot and when she saw him so sick and pale she said, “My lord -Sir Lancelot, alas, why be ye in this plight?” - -But Sir Lancelot said, “Fair maiden, if ye be come to comfort me, ye be -right welcome; and of this little hurt that I have, I shall be right -hastily whole by the grace of God. But, I marvel who told you my name?” - -Then the fair maiden told him all, how Sir Gawain was lodged with her -father, “And there by your shield he discovered you.” - -So Elaine watched Sir Lancelot and cared for his wound and did such -attendance to him that the story saith that never man had a kindlier -nurse. Then Sir Lancelot prayed Sir Lavaine to make inquiries in -Winchester for Sir Bors and told him by what tokens he should know him, -by a wound in his forehead. - -“For well I am sure that Sir Bors will seek me,” said Sir Lancelot, “for -he is the same good knight that hurt me.” - -Now turn we to Sir Bors that came unto Winchester to seek after his -cousin Sir Lancelot. And so when he came to Winchester, anon there were -men that Sir Lavaine had made to watch for such a man and anon Sir -Lavaine had warning; and then Sir Lavaine came to Winchester and found -Sir Bors and there he told him who he was and with whom he was and what -was his name. - -“Now, fair knight,” said Sir Bors, “I require you that ye will bring me -to my lord, Sir Lancelot.” - -“Sir,” said Sir Lavaine, “take your horse and within this hour ye shall -see him.” - -And so they departed and came to the hermitage. And when Sir Bors saw -Sir Lancelot lie in his bed, pale and discolored, anon Sir Bors lost -his countenance and for kindness and pity he might not speak but wept -tenderly for a great while. - -And then, when he might speak, he said thus, “O my lord, Sir Lancelot, -God you bless, and send you hasty recovery; and full heavy am I of my -misfortune and mine unhappiness, for now I may call myself unhappy. And I -dread me that God is greatly displeased with me, that He would suffer me -to have such a shame for to hurt you, that are our leader and our honor -and therefore I call myself unhappy. Alas, that ever such a miserable -knight, as I am, should have power by unhappiness to hurt the noblest -knight of the world! Where I so shamefully set upon you and over-charged -you, and where ye might have slain me, ye saved me; and so did not I, -for I and your kindred did to you our uttermost. I marvel, that my heart -or my blood would serve me, wherefore, my lord Sir Lancelot, I ask your -mercy.” - -“Fair cousin,” said Sir Lancelot, “ye be right welcome; and much ye say -which pleaseth me not, for I have the same I sought; for I would with -pride have overcome you all, and there in my pride, I was near slain and -that was my own fault, for I might have given you warning of my being -there. And then would I have had no hurt; for it is an old saying, there -is hard battle when kin and friends do battle, either against other, for -there may be no mercy but mortal war. Therefore, fair cousin, all shall -be welcome that God sendeth; and let us leave off this matter and let us -speak of some rejoicing, for this that is done may not be undone; and let -us find a remedy how soon I may be whole.” - -Then Sir Bors leaned upon his bed and told him how Sir Gawain knew him by -the shield he left with the fair maiden of Astolat and so they talked of -many more things. And so within three or four days Sir Lancelot was big -and strong again. - -Then Sir Bors told Sir Lancelot how there was a great tournament and -joust agreed upon between King Arthur and the King of Northgalis. - -“Is that the truth?” said Sir Lancelot. “Then shall ye abide with me -still a little while, until that I be whole, for I feel myself right big -and strong.” - -Then were they together nigh a month and ever this maiden Elaine did her -diligent labor for Sir Lancelot, so that there never was a child or wife -meeker to her father or husband, than was that fair maiden of Astolat; -wherefore Sir Bors was greatly pleased with her. - -So upon a day, Sir Lancelot thought to try his armor and his spear. And -so when he was upon his horse, he stirred him fiercely, and the horse was -passing strong and fresh, because he had not been labored for a month. -And then Sir Lancelot couched that spear in the rest. That courser leaped -mightily when he felt the spurs and he that was upon him, the which was -the noblest horse in the world, strained him mightily and kept still the -spear in the rest and therewith Sir Lancelot strained himself with so -great force, to get the horse forward that the wound opened and he felt -himself so feeble, that he might not sit upon his horse. - -And then Sir Lancelot cried unto Sir Bors, “Ah, Sir Bors and Sir Lavaine, -help me, for I am come to my end.” And therewith he fell down to the -earth as if he were dead. - -And then Sir Bors and Sir Lavaine came to him with sorrow. Then came the -holy hermit, Sir Baudwin of Brittany, and when he found Sir Lancelot in -that plight, he said but little, but know ye well that he was wroth; and -then he bade them, “Let us have him in.” - -And so they all bare him into the hermitage and unarmed him and laid him -in his bed and evermore his wound bled piteously, but he stirred no limb. -Then the knight hermit put a little water in his mouth and Sir Lancelot -waked of his swoon and then the hermit stanched his bleeding. - -And when he might speak he asked Sir Lancelot why he put his life in -jeopardy. - -“Sir,” said Sir Lancelot, “because I thought I had been strong and also -Sir Bors told me that there should be great jousts betwixt King Arthur -and the King of Northgalis and therefore I thought to try it myself, -whether I might be there or not.” - -“Ah, Sir Lancelot,” said the hermit, “your heart and your courage will -never be done, until your last day, but ye shall do now by my counsel. -Let Sir Bors depart from you and let him do at that tournament what he -may. And by the grace of God, by that the tournament be done, and ye come -hither again, Sir Lancelot shall be as whole as ye, if so be that he will -be governed by me.” - -Then Sir Bors made him ready to depart from Sir Lancelot; and then Sir -Lancelot said, “Fair cousin, Sir Bors, recommend me unto all them unto -whom I ought to recommend me. And I pray you, exert yourself at the -jousts that ye may be best, for my love; and here shall I abide you at -the mercy of God till ye come again.” - -And so Sir Bors departed and came to the court of King Arthur and told -them in what place he had left Sir Lancelot. - -“That grieveth me,” said the King, “but since he shall have his life we -all may thank God.” - -And then every knight of the Round Table that was there at that time -present, made him ready to be at the jousts and thither drew many knights -of many countries. And as the time drew near, thither came the King of -Northgalis, and the King with the Hundred Knights and Sir Galahad, the -noble prince, and thither came the King of Ireland and the King of Scots. -So these three kings came on King Arthur’s party. - -And that day Sir Gawain did great deeds of arms and began first. And the -heralds numbered that Sir Gawain smote down twenty knights. Then Sir Bors -came in the same time, and he was numbered that he smote down twenty -knights and therefore the prize was given betwixt them both, for they -began first and longest endured. - -Also Sir Gareth did that day great deeds of arms, for he smote down and -pulled down thirty knights. But when he had done these deeds he tarried -not, but so departed, and therefore he lost his prize. And Sir Palomides -did great deeds of arms that day for he smote down twenty knights, but -he departed suddenly, and men thought Sir Gareth and he rode together to -some adventures. - -So when this tournament was done, Sir Bors departed, and rode till he -came to Sir Lancelot, his cousin; and then he found him on his feet and -there either made great joy of other; and so Sir Bors told Sir Lancelot -of all the jousts, like as ye have heard. - -“I marvel,” said Sir Lancelot, “at Sir Gareth when he had done such deeds -of arms, that he would not tarry.” - -“Thereof we marvel all,” said Sir Bors, “for except you, or Sir Tristam, -or Sir Lamorak, I saw never knight bear down so many in so little a -while, as did Sir Gareth, and anon he was gone, we knew not where.” - -“By my head,” said Sir Lancelot, “he is a noble knight and a mighty man -and well breathed; and if he were well tried, I would think he were good -enough for any knight that beareth the life; and he is a gentle knight, -courteous, true, bounteous, meek, and mild, and in him is no manner of -evil, but he is plain, faithful, and true.” - -So then they made them ready to depart from the hermit. And so upon a -morn, they took their horses and Elaine with them and when they came to -Astolat, they were well lodged and had great cheer of Sir Bernard, the -old baron, and of Sir Torre, his son. And upon the morrow, Sir Lancelot -took his leave and came unto Winchester. - -And when King Arthur knew that Sir Lancelot was come whole and sound the -King made great joy of him, and so did Sir Gawain and all the knights -except Sir Agravaine and Sir Modred. - - -THE DEATH OF ELAINE - -Now speak we of the fair maiden of Astolat, that made such sorrow day and -night that she never slept, ate, or drank because she grieved so for Sir -Lancelot. So when she had thus endured ten days, she became so feeble -that she knew she must die. - -And then she called her father, Sir Bernard, and her brother, Sir Torre, -and heartily she prayed her father that her brother might write a letter -as she did tell him, and so her father granted her. And when the letter -was written, word by word as she said, then she prayed her father, -saying, “When I am dead, let this letter be put in my right hand and my -hand bound fast with the letter, and let me be put in a fair bed with -all the richest clothes that I have about me, and so let my bed be laid -with me in a chariot and carried unto the Thames. And there let me be -put within a barge and but one man with me, such as ye trust to steer me -thither. And let my barge be covered with black samite over and over; -thus, father, I beseech you let it be done.” - -So her father granted it her faithfully, all things should be done as she -asked. Then her father and her brother made great sorrow, for they knew -she was dying. And so when she was dead her body was placed in a barge -and a man steered the barge unto Westminster, and there he rowed a great -while to and fro before any saw him. - -So by fortune, King Arthur and Queen Guinevere were speaking together at -a window and so as they looked out on the Thames, they saw this black -barge and marveled what it meant. Then the King called Sir Kay and showed -it to him. - -“Go thither,” said the King to Sir Kay, “and take with you Sir Brandiles -and Sir Agravaine and bring word what is there.” - -Then these knights departed and came to the barge and went in; and there -they found the fair maiden lying in a rich bed, and a poor man sitting -in the barge’s end and no word would he speak. So these knights returned -unto the King again and told him what they found. - -And then the King took the Queen by the hand and went thither. Then the -King made the barge to be held fast and then the King and Queen entered -with certain knights with them, and there they saw the fairest maiden in -a rich bed, covered with many rich clothes and all was cloth of gold, and -she lay as though she smiled. - -Then the Queen saw a letter in her right hand and told the King. Then the -King took it and said, “Now I am sure this letter will tell what she was -and why she is come hither.” - -So then the King and the Queen went out of the barge, and so when the -King was come within his chamber, he called many knights about him, and -said he would know openly what was written within that letter. Then the -King opened it and made a clerk read it, and this was the letter: - -“Most noble knight, Sir Lancelot, I was called the Fair Maiden of -Astolat. Pray for my soul and give me burial at least. This is my last -request. Pray for my soul, Sir Lancelot, as thou art a peerless knight.” - -This was all the substance of the letter. And when it was read, the King, -the Queen, and all the knights wept for pity. Then was Sir Lancelot sent -for; and when he was come King Arthur made the letter to be read to him. - -And when Sir Lancelot heard it word by word, he said, “My lord, King -Arthur, I am right sorrowful because of the death of this fair damsel. -She was both fair and good and much was I indebted to her for her care. -I offered her for her kindness that she showed me, a thousand pounds -yearly, whensoever she would wed some good knight, and always while I -live to be her own knight.” - -Then said the King unto Sir Lancelot, “It will be to your honor that ye -see that she be buried honorably.” - -“Sir,” said Sir Lancelot, “that shall be done as I can best do it.” - -And so upon the morn she was buried richly, and all the knights of the -Round Table were there with Sir Lancelot. And then the poor man went -again with the barge. - - -THE TOURNAMENT AT WESTMINSTER - -So time passed on till Christmas and then every day there were jousts -made for a diamond, who that jousted best should have a diamond. But -Sir Lancelot would not joust, but if it were at a great joust. But Sir -Lavaine jousted there passing well and best was praised, for there were -but few that did so well. Wherefore, all manner of knights thought that -Sir Lavaine should be made Knight of the Round Table at the next feast of -Pentecost. So after Christmas, King Arthur called unto him many knights -and there they advised together to make a great tournament. And the -King of Northgalis said to Arthur that he would have on his party the -King of Ireland and the King with the Hundred Knights and the King of -Northumberland and Sir Galahad, the noble prince. And so then four kings -and this mighty duke took part against King Arthur and the Knights of the -Table Round. - -And the proclamation was made that the jousts should be at Westminster, -and so the knights made them ready to be at the jousts in the freshest -manner. Then Queen Guinevere sent for Sir Lancelot and said thus, “I -forbid you that ye ride in jousts or tournaments, unless your kinsmen -know you. And at these jousts that be, ye shall have of me a sleeve of -gold, and I charge you, that ye warn your kinsmen that ye will bear that -day the sleeve of gold upon your helmet.” - -“Madam,” said Sir Lancelot, “it shall be done.” - -And when Sir Lancelot saw his time, he told Sir Bors that he would depart -and have no one with him but Sir Lavaine, unto the good hermit that dwelt -in the forest of Windsor, and there he thought to repose him and take all -the rest that he might, so that he would be fresh at that day of jousts. - -So Sir Lancelot and Sir Lavaine departed, that no creature knew where -he was gone, but the noble men of his blood. And when he was come to the -hermitage he had good cheer. And so daily Sir Lancelot would go to a -well, fast by the hermitage and there he would lie down and see the well -spring and bubble, and sometimes he slept there. - -So when the day was come Sir Lancelot planned that he should be arrayed, -and Sir Lavaine and their horses, as though they were Saracens, and so -they departed and came nigh to the field. - -The King of Northgalis brought with him a hundred knights, and the King -of Northumberland brought with him a hundred good knights, and the King -of Ireland brought with him a hundred good knights ready to joust, and -Sir Galahad brought with him a hundred good knights, and the King with -the Hundred Knights brought with him as many, and all these were proved -good knights. - -Then came in King Arthur’s party, and there came in the King of Scots -with a hundred knights, and King Uriens brought with him a hundred -knights, and King Howel of Brittany brought with him a hundred knights, -and King Arthur himself came into the field with two hundred knights and -the most part were knights of the Table Round, that were proved noble -knights, and there were old knights set in a high place, to judge with -the Queen who did best. - -Then the heralds blew the call to the field, and then the King of -Northgalis encountered with the King of Scots and then the King of Scots -had a fall: and the King of Ireland smote down King Uriens and the King -of Northumberland smote down King Howel of Brittany. And then King Arthur -was wroth and ran to the King with the Hundred Knights and there King -Arthur smote him down; and after, with that same spear, King Arthur smote -down three other knights. And when his spear was broken, King Arthur did -exceedingly well; and so therewith came in Sir Gawain and Sir Gaheris, -Sir Agravaine and Sir Modred, and there each of them smote down a knight, -and Sir Gawain smote down four knights. - -Then began a strong battle, for there came in the knights of Sir -Lancelot’s kindred and Sir Gareth and Sir Palomides with them, and many -knights of the Table Round, and they began to press the four kings and -the mighty duke so hard that they were discomfited; but this Duke Galahad -was a noble knight and by his mighty prowess he held back the knights of -the Table Round. - -All this saw Sir Lancelot and then he came into the field with Sir -Lavaine as if it had been thunder. And then anon Sir Bors and the knights -of his kindred saw Sir Lancelot, and Sir Bors said to them all, “I warn -you beware of him with the sleeve of gold upon his head, for he is Sir -Lancelot himself.” - -And for great goodness Sir Bors warned Sir Gareth. “I am well satisfied,” -said Sir Gareth, “that I may know him.” “But who is he,” said they all, -“that rideth with him in the same array?” - -“That is the good and gentle knight, Sir Lavaine,” said Sir Bors. - -So Sir Lancelot encountered with Sir Gawain and there by force Sir -Lancelot smote down Sir Gawain and his horse to the earth, and so he -smote down Sir Agravaine and Sir Gaheris and also he smote down Sir -Modred, and all this was with one spear. Then Sir Lavaine met with Sir -Palomides and either met other so hard and so fiercely, that both their -horses fell to the earth. And then they were horsed again, and then met -Sir Lancelot with Sir Palomides and there Sir Palomides had a fall; and -so Sir Lancelot, without stopping, as fast as he might get spears, smote -down thirty knights and the most part of them were knights of the Table -Round; and ever the knights of his kindred withdrew and fought in other -places where Sir Lancelot came not. - -And then King Arthur was wroth when he saw Lancelot do such deeds for he -knew not that it was Sir Lancelot; and then the King called unto him nine -knights and so the King with these knights made ready to set upon Sir -Lancelot and Sir Lavaine. - -All this saw Sir Bors and Sir Gareth. - -“Now I dread me sore,” said Sir Bors, “that my lord Sir Lancelot will be -hard matched.” - -“By my head,” said Sir Gareth, “I will ride unto my lord Sir Lancelot, to -help him, come what may; for he is the same man that made me knight.” - -“Ye shall not do so by mine counsel,” said Sir Bors, “unless that ye were -disguised.” - -“Ye shall see me disguised,” said Sir Gareth. - -Therewithal he saw a Welsh knight, who was sore hurt by Sir Gawain, and -to him Gareth rode and prayed him of his knighthood to lend him his green -shield in exchange for his own. - -“I will gladly,” said the Welsh knight. - -Then Sir Gareth came driving to Sir Lancelot all he might and said, -“Knight, defend thyself, for yonder cometh King Arthur with nine knights -with him to overcome you, and so I am come to bear you fellowship for old -love ye have showed me.” - -“I thank you greatly,” said Sir Lancelot. - -“Sir,” said Gareth, “encounter ye with Sir Gawain and I will encounter -with Sir Palomides and let Sir Lavaine match with the noble King Arthur.” - -Then came King Arthur with his nine knights with him, and Sir Lancelot -encountered with Sir Gawain and gave him such a buffet that Sir Gawain -fell to the earth. Then Sir Gareth encountered with the good knight, Sir -Palomides, and he gave him such a buffet that both he and his horse fell -to the earth. Then encountered King Arthur with Sir Lavaine and there -either of them smote the other to the earth, horse and all, so that they -lay a great while. - -Then Sir Lancelot smote down Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, and Sir Modred, -and Sir Gareth smote down Sir Kay, Sir Safere, and Sir Griflet. And -then Sir Lavaine was horsed again and he smote down Sir Lucan and Sir -Bedivere, and then there began a great press of good knights. Then Sir -Lancelot dashed here and there and smote off and pulled off helmets, -so that none might strike him a blow with spear or with sword; and Sir -Gareth did such deeds of arms that all men marveled what knight he was -with the green shield, for he smote down that day and pulled down more -than thirty knights. - -And Sir Lancelot marveled, when he beheld Sir Gareth do such deeds, what -knight he might be! and Sir Lavaine pulled down and smote down twenty -knights. Also Sir Lancelot knew not Sir Gareth, for if Sir Tristam or -Sir Lamorak had been alive, Sir Lancelot would have thought he had been -one of the two. - -So this tournament continued till it was near night, for the Knights of -the Round Table rallied ever unto King Arthur, for the King was wroth -that he and his knights might not prevail that day. Then Sir Gawain said -to the King, “I marvel where all this day Sir Bors and his fellowship of -Sir Lancelot’s kindred have been. I marvel all this day they be not about -you. It is for some cause,” said Sir Gawain. - -“By my head,” said Sir Kay, “Sir Bors is yonder all this day upon the -right hand of this field and there he and his kindred have won more honor -than we have.” - -“It may well be,” said Sir Gawain, “but I believe this knight with the -sleeve of gold is Sir Lancelot himself. I know it by his riding and by -his great strokes. And the other knight in the same colors is the good -young knight, Sir Lavaine. Also, that knight with the green shield is my -brother, Sir Gareth, and he has disguised himself, for no man shall ever -make him be against Sir Lancelot, because he made him knight.” - -“Nephew, I believe you,” said King Arthur; “therefore tell me now what is -your best counsel.” - -“Sir,” said Gawain, “ye shall have my counsel. Let the heralds blow the -close of the tournament, for if he be Sir Lancelot and my brother, Sir -Gareth, with him, with the help of that good young knight, Sir Lavaine, -trust me, it will be no use to strive with them, unless we should fall -ten or twelve upon one knight, and that were no glory, but shame.” - -“Ye say truth,” said the King; “it were shame to us, so many as we be, to -set upon them any more; for they be three good knights and, particularly, -that knight with the sleeve of gold.” - -So the trumpets blew and forthwith King Arthur sent to the four kings and -to the mighty duke and prayed them that the knight with the sleeve of -gold depart not from them, but that the King might speak with him. Then -King Arthur unarmed him and rode after Sir Lancelot. And so he found him -with the four kings and the duke and there the King prayed them all unto -supper and they said they would, with good will. - -And when they were unarmed, then King Arthur knew Sir Lancelot, Sir -Lavaine and Sir Gareth. - -“Ah, Sir Lancelot,” said the King, “this day ye have heated me and my -knights.” - -And so they went unto King Arthur’s lodging all together, and there was -a great feast and the prize was given unto Sir Lancelot; and the heralds -announced that he had smitten down fifty knights, and Sir Gareth, five -and thirty, and Sir Lavaine, four and twenty knights. - -Then King Arthur blamed Sir Gareth, because he left his fellowship and -held with Sir Lancelot. - -“My lord,” said Sir Gareth, “he made me a knight and when I saw him so -hard pressed, methought it was my duty to help him, for I saw him do so -much and so many noble knights against him; and when I understood that he -was Sir Lancelot, I was ashamed to see so many knights against him alone.” - -“Truly,” said King Arthur unto Sir Gareth, “ye say well, and manfully -have you done and won for yourself great honor, and all the days of my -life I shall love you and trust you more and more. For ever it is an -honorable knight’s deed to help another honorable knight when he seeth -him in great danger; for ever an honorable man will be sorry to see a -brave man shamed. But he that hath no honor, and acts with cowardice, -never shall he show gentleness nor any manner of goodness, where he -seeth a man in any danger; for then ever will a coward show no mercy. -And always a good man will do ever to another man as he would be done to -himself.” - -So then there were great feasts and games and play, and all manner of -noble deeds were done; and he that was courteous, true, and faithful to -his friend, was that time cherished. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Discussion.= 1. What was the condition of Arthur’s kingdom when he - began to reign? 2. What was Arthur’s purpose in founding the Order - of the Round Table? 3. Why was a training in strength and bravery - in battle necessary to these knights? 4. What way of supplying this - training is described in this story? 5. Tell what you know of this - custom. 6. Have we any contests of skill that bear any resemblance to - this in method or purpose? 7. Give a brief account of the tournament - at Winchester. 8. What plan had Lancelot for disguising himself? - 9. What reasons had he for such a plan? 10. How was Lancelot’s - personality shown in the impression he made on the baron? 11. What - custom of the joust is indicated by Elaine’s request? 12. Picture the - scene as the tournament opened; where was the King? Where were the - opposing knights? 13. What knightly qualities did Lancelot show in - this contest? 14. How would a “full noble surgeon” of King Arthur’s - time compare with a present-day surgeon? 15. Why did Lancelot - call his injury “a little hurt” when speaking to Elaine? 16. What - qualities are we told were most admired in the days of chivalry? 17. - Is this true of the present time? 18. What quality of Lancelot do you - admire most? - - =Phrases= - - with his fellowship, 126, 9 - undertake he will do marvels, 126,18 - likeliest knight, 126, 31 - my heart giveth unto you, 127, 7 - with a rich burgess, 128, 6 - a strong assail, 128, 27 - might not serve him thereto, 130, 19 - suffer me, 131, 6 - a full noble surgeon, 131, 27 - prayed him for succor, 132, 5 - bring him to knowledge, 132, 21 - openly disclosed, 135, 20 - lost his countenance, 136, 28 - mighty prowess, 144, 4 - - -THE PASSING OF ARTHUR - - -HOW SIR MODRED PLOTTED AGAINST SIR LANCELOT AND OF THE DEATH OF SIR -GAWAIN AND TWELVE KNIGHTS - -Before Merlin passed from the world of men, he uttered many marvelous -prophecies and one that boded ill for King Arthur. He foretold that a son -of Arthur’s sister should stir up bitter war against the King and that a -great battle should be fought in the West when many brave men should find -their doom. - -Among the nephews of King Arthur was one most dishonorable; his name was -Modred. No knightly deed had he ever done and he hated even to hear the -good report of others. Of all who sat at the Round Table there was none -that Modred hated more than Sir Lancelot du Lac, whom all true knights -held in most honor. In his jealous rage he spoke evil of the Queen and -Sir Lancelot. Now Modred’s brothers, Sir Gawain and Sir Gareth, refused -to listen to these slanders, holding that Sir Lancelot, in his knightly -service to the Queen, did honor to King Arthur also. - -When these evil tales reached King Arthur, he rebuked the tale bearers -and declared his faith in Sir Lancelot and his lady, the Queen. But -Modred, enraged by the rebuke, determined to find cause against them, and -not long after it seemed that the occasion had come. For when King Arthur -had ridden forth to hunt far from Carlisle, where he then held court, the -Queen sent for Lancelot to speak with her in her bower. Modred and his -brother, Sir Agravaine, got together twelve knights, persuading them that -they were doing the King a service. They waited until they saw Lancelot -enter all unarmed and then called to him to come forth. The whole court -echoed with their cries of “Traitor.” Lancelot, arming himself in haste, -rushed out upon them and soon the entire company lay cold in death upon -the earth. Only Modred escaped, for he fled, but even so he was sore -wounded. - - -OF THE TRIAL OF THE QUEEN - -When Modred escaped from Sir Lancelot he got to horse, all wounded as he -was, and never drew rein until he had found King Arthur, to whom he told -all that had happened. - -Then great was the King’s grief. Despite all that Modred could say, he -was slow to doubt Sir Lancelot, whom he loved, but his mind was filled -with forebodings; for many a knight had been slain and well he knew that -their kin would seek vengeance on Sir Lancelot, and the noble fellowship -of the Round Table be utterly destroyed by their feuds. - -All too soon it proved even as the King had feared. Many were found to -hold with Sir Modred; some because they were kin to the knights that had -been slain, some from envy of the honor and worship of the noble Sir -Lancelot; and among them even were those who dared to raise their voice -against the Queen herself, calling for judgment upon her as leagued -with a traitor against the King, and as having caused the death of so -many good knights. Now in those days the law was that if any one were -accused of treason by witnesses, or taken in the act, that one should die -the death by burning, be it man or woman, knight or churl. So then the -murmurs grew to a loud clamor that the law should have its course, and -that King Arthur should pass sentence on the Queen. Then was the King’s -woe doubled. - -“For,” said he, “I sit as King to be a rightful judge and keep all the -law; wherefore I may not do battle for my own Queen, and now there is -none other to help her.” - -So a decree was issued that Queen Guinevere should be burnt at the stake -outside the walls of Carlisle. - -Forthwith, King Arthur sent for his nephew, Sir Gawain, and said to him: - -“Fair nephew, I give it in charge to you to see that all is done as has -been decreed.” - -But Sir Gawain answered boldly: “Sir King, never will I be present to see -my lady the Queen die. It is of ill counsel that ye have consented to her -death.” - -Then the King bade Gawain send his two young brothers, Sir Gareth and -Sir Gaheris, to receive his commands, and these he desired to attend the -Queen to the place of execution. So Gareth made answer for both: - -“My Lord the King, we owe you obedience in all things, but know that it -is sore against our wills that we obey you in this; nor will we appear in -arms in the place where that noble lady shall die”; then sorrowfully they -mounted their horses and rode to Carlisle. - -When the day appointed had come, the Queen was led forth to a place -without the walls of Carlisle, and there she was bound to the stake to -be burnt to death. Loud were her ladies’ lamentations, and many a lord -was found to weep at that grievous sight of a Queen brought so low; yet -was there none who dared come forward as her champion, lest he should be -suspected of treason. As for Gareth and Gaheris, they could not bear the -sight, and stood with their faces covered in their mantles. Then, just as -the torch was to be applied to the fagots, there was a sound as of many -horses galloping, and the next instant a band of knights rushed upon the -astonished throng, their leader cutting down all who crossed his path -until he had reached the Queen, whom he lifted to his saddle and bore -from the press. Then all men knew that it was Sir Lancelot, come knightly -to rescue the Queen, and in their hearts they rejoiced. So with little -hindrance they rode away, Sir Lancelot and all his kin with the Queen in -their midst, till they came to the castle of the Joyous Garde, where they -held the Queen in safety and all reverence. - -But of that day came a kingdom’s ruin; for among the slain were Gawain’s -brothers Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris. Now Sir Lancelot loved Sir Gareth -as if he had been his own younger brother, and himself had knighted him; -but, in the press, he struck at him and killed him, not seeing that he -was unarmed and weaponless; and in like wise, Sir Gaheris met his death. -So when word was brought to King Arthur of what had passed, Sir Gawain -asked straightway how his brothers had fared. - -“Both are slain,” said the messenger. - -“Alas! my dear brothers!” cried Sir Gawain; “how came they by their -death?” - -“They were both slain by Sir Lancelot,” said the messenger. - -“That will I never believe,” cried Sir Gawain; “for my brother, Sir -Gareth, had such love for Sir Lancelot that there was naught Sir Lancelot -could ask him that he would not do.” - -But the man said again, “He is slain, and by Sir Lancelot.” - -Then, from sheer grief, Sir Gawain fell swooning to the ground. When he -was recovered, he said: - -“My lord and uncle, is it even as this man says, that Sir Lancelot has -slain my brother Sir Gareth?” - -“Alas!” said the King. “Lancelot rode upon him in the press and slew him, -not seeing who he was or that he was unarmed.” - -“Then,” cried Gawain fiercely, “here I make my vow. Never, while my -life lasts, will I leave Sir Lancelot in peace until he has rendered me -account for the slaying of my brothers.” - -From that day forth, Sir Gawain would not suffer the King to rest until -he had gathered all his host and marched against the Joyous Garde. Thus -began the war which broke up the fellowship of the Round Table. - - -HOW SIR GAWAIN DEFIED SIR LANCELOT - -Now it came to the ears of the Pope in Rome that King Arthur was -besieging Sir Lancelot in the castle of the Joyous Garde, and it grieved -him that there should be strife between two such goodly knights, the -like of whom was not to be found in Christendom. So he called to him the -Bishop of Rochester and bade him carry word to Britain, both to Arthur -and to Sir Lancelot, that they should be reconciled, the one to the -other, and that King Arthur should receive again Queen Guinevere. - -Forthwith Sir Lancelot desired of King Arthur assurance of liberty -and reverence for the Queen, as also safe conduct for himself and his -knights, that he might bring Queen Guinevere with due honor to the King -at Carlisle; and thereto the King pledged his word. - -So Lancelot set forth with the Queen, and behind them rode a hundred -knights arrayed in green velvet, the housings of the horses of the same, -all studded with precious stones; thus they passed through the city of -Carlisle openly, in the sight of all, and there were many who rejoiced -that the Queen was come again and Sir Lancelot with her, though they of -Gawain’s party scowled upon him. - -When they were come into the great hall where Arthur sat with Sir Gawain -and other great lords about him, Sir Lancelot led Guinevere to the throne -and both knelt before the King; then rising, Sir Lancelot lifted the -Queen to her feet and thus he spoke to King Arthur, boldly and well, -before the whole court: - -“My lord, Sir Arthur, I bring you here your Queen, than whom no truer -nor nobler lady ever lived; and here stand I, Sir Lancelot du Lac, ready -to do battle with any that dare gainsay it”; and with these words Sir -Lancelot turned and looked upon the lords and knights present in their -places, but none would challenge him in that cause, not even Sir Gawain, -for he had ever affirmed that Queen Guinevere was a true and honorable -lady. - -Then Sir Lancelot spoke again: “Now, my Lord Arthur, in my own defense it -behooves me to say that never in aught have I been false to you. That I -slew certain knights is true, but I hold me guiltless, seeing that they -brought death upon themselves. For no sooner had I gone to the Queen’s -bower, as she had commanded me, than they beset the door with shameful -outcry, that all the court might hear, calling me traitor and felon -knight.” - -“And rightly they called you,” cried Sir Gawain fiercely. - -“My Lord, Sir Gawain,” answered Sir Lancelot, “in their quarrel they -proved not themselves right, else had not I, alone, encountered fourteen -knights and come forth unscathed.” - -Then said King Arthur: “Sir Lancelot, I have ever loved you above all -other knights, and trusted you to the uttermost; but ill have ye done by -me and mine.” - -“My lord,” said Lancelot, “that I slew Sir Gareth I shall mourn as long -as life lasts. As soon would I have slain my own nephew, Sir Bors, as -have harmed Sir Gareth wittingly; for I myself made him knight, and loved -him as a brother.” - -“Liar and traitor,” cried Sir Gawain, “ye slew him, defenseless and -unarmed.” - -“It is full plain, Sir Gawain,” said Lancelot, “that never again shall I -have your love; and yet there has been old kindness between us, and once -ye thanked me that I saved your life.” - -“It shall not avail you now,” said Sir Gawain; “traitor ye are, both to -the King and to me. Know that while life lasts, never will I rest until I -have avenged my brother Sir Gareth’s death upon you.” - -“Fair nephew,” said the King, “cease your bawling. Sir Lancelot has come -under surety of my word that none shall do him harm. Elsewhere, and at -another time, fasten a quarrel upon him, if quarrel ye must.” - -“I care not,” cried Sir Gawain fiercely. “The proud traitor trusts so -in his own strength that he thinks none dare meet him. But here I defy -him and swear that, be it in open combat or by stealth, I shall have his -life. And know, mine uncle and King, if I shall not have your aid, I and -mine will leave you for ever and, if need be, fight even against you.” - -“Peace,” said the King, and to Sir Lancelot: “We give you fifteen days in -which to leave this kingdom.” - -Then Sir Lancelot sighed heavily and said, “Full well I see that no -sorrow of mine for what is past availeth me.” - -Then he went to the Queen where she sat, and said: “Madam, the time is -come when I must leave this fair realm that I have loved. Think well of -me, I pray you, and send for me if ever there be aught in which a true -knight may serve a lady.” Therewith he turned him about and, without -greeting to any, passed through the hall, and with his faithful knights, -rode to the Joyous Garde, though ever thereafter, in memory of that sad -day, he called it the Dolorous Garde. - -There he called about him his friends and kinsmen, saying, “Fair knights, -I must now pass into my own lands.” Then they all, with one voice, cried -that they would go with him. So he thanked them, promising them all fair -estates and great honor when they were come to his kingdom; for all -France belonged to Sir Lancelot. Yet was he loath to leave the land where -he had followed so many glorious adventures, and sore he mourned to part -in anger from King Arthur. - -“My mind misgives me,” said Sir Lancelot, “but that trouble shall come -of Sir Modred, for he is envious and a mischief-maker, and it grieves me -that never more I may serve King Arthur and his realm.” - -So Sir Lancelot sorrowed; but his kinsmen, wroth for the dishonor done -him, made haste to depart and, by the fifteenth day, they were all -embarked to sail overseas to France. - - -HOW KING ARTHUR AND SIR GAWAIN WENT TO FRANCE - -From the day when Sir Lancelot brought the Queen to Carlisle, never would -Gawain suffer the King to be at rest; but always he desired him to call -his army together that they might go to attack Sir Lancelot in his own -land. - -Now King Arthur was loath to war against Sir Lancelot, and seeing this, -Sir Gawain upbraided him bitterly. - -“I see well it is naught to you that my brother, Sir Gareth, died -fulfilling your behest. Little ye care if all your knights be slain, if -only the traitor Lancelot escape. Since, then, ye will not do me justice -nor avenge your own nephew, I and my fellows will take the traitor when -and how we may. He trusts in his own might that none can encounter with -him; let see if we may not entrap him.” - -Thus urged, King Arthur called his army together and ordered that a great -fleet be collected; for rather would he fight openly with Sir Lancelot -than that Sir Gawain should bring such dishonor upon himself as to slay -a noble knight treacherously. So with a great host, the King passed -overseas to France, leaving Sir Modred to rule Britain in his stead. - -When Lancelot heard that King Arthur and Sir Gawain were coming against -him, he withdrew into the strong castle of Benwick; for unwilling, -indeed, was he to fight with the King, or to do an injury to Sir Gareth’s -brother. The army passed through the land, laying it waste, and presently -encamped about the castle, besieging it closely; but so thick were the -walls and so watchful the garrison that in no way could they prevail -against it. - -One day, there came to Sir Lancelot seven brethren, brave knights of -Wales, who had joined their fortunes to his, and said: - -“Sir Lancelot, bid us sally forth against this host which has invaded -and laid waste your lands, and we will scatter it; for we are not wont to -cower behind walls.” - -“Fair lords,” answered Lancelot, “it is grief to me to war on good -Christian knights and especially upon my lord, King Arthur. Have but -patience, and I will send to him and see if, even now, there may not be a -treaty of peace between us, for better far is peace than war.” - -So Sir Lancelot sought out a damsel and, mounting her upon a palfrey, -bade her ride to King Arthur’s camp and require of the King to cease -warring on his lands, proffering fair terms of peace. When the damsel -came to the camp, there met her Sir Lucan the Butler. - -“Fair damsel,” said Sir Lucan, “do ye come from Sir Lancelot?” - -“Yea, in good truth,” said the damsel; “and, I pray you, lead me to King -Arthur.” - -“Now may ye prosper in your errand,” said Sir Lucan. “Our King loves Sir -Lancelot dearly and wishes him well; but Sir Gawain will not suffer him -to be reconciled to him.” - -So when the damsel had come before the King, she told him all her tale, -and much she said of Sir Lancelot’s love and goodwill to his lord the -King, so that the tears stood in Arthur’s eyes. But Sir Gawain broke in -roughly: - -“My lord and uncle, shall it be said of us that we came hither with such -a host to hie us home again, nothing done, to be the scoff of all men?” - -“Nephew,” said the King, “methinks Sir Lancelot offers fair and -generously. It were well if ye would accept his proffer. Nevertheless, as -the quarrel is yours, so shall the answer be.” - -“Then, damsel,” said Sir Gawain, “say unto Sir Lancelot that the time for -peace is past. And tell him that I, Sir Gawain, swear by the faith I owe -to knighthood that never will I forego my revenge.” - -So the damsel returned to Sir Lancelot and told him all. Sir Lancelot’s -heart was filled with grief nigh unto breaking; but his knights were -enraged and clamored that he had endured too much of insult and wrong, -and that he should lead them forth to battle. Sir Lancelot armed him -sorrowfully and presently the gates were set open and he rode forth, he -and all his company. But to all his knights he had given commandment that -none should seek King Arthur; “for never,” said he, “will I see the noble -King who made me knight, either killed or shamed.” - -Fierce was the battle between those two hosts. On Lancelot’s side, Sir -Bors and Sir Lavaine and many another did right well; while on the other -side, King Arthur bore him as the noble knight he was, and Sir Gawain -raged through the battle, seeking to come at Sir Lancelot. Presently, Sir -Bors encountered King Arthur and unhorsed him. This Sir Lancelot saw and, -coming to the King’s side, he alighted and raising him from the ground, -mounted him upon his own horse. Then King Arthur, looking upon Lancelot, -cried, “Ah! Lancelot, Lancelot! That ever there should be war between us -two!” and tears stood in the King’s eyes. - -“Ah! my Lord Arthur,” cried Sir Lancelot, “I pray you stop this war.” - -As they spoke thus, Sir Gawain came upon them and, calling Sir Lancelot -traitor and coward, had almost ridden upon him before Lancelot could find -another horse. Then the two hosts drew back, each on its own side, to see -the battle between Sir Lancelot and Sir Gawain; for they wheeled their -horses and, departing far asunder, rushed again upon each other with the -noise of thunder, and each bore the other from his horse. Then they put -their shields before them and set on each other with their swords; but -while ever Sir Gawain smote fiercely, Sir Lancelot was content only to -ward off blows, because he would not, for Sir Gareth’s sake, do any harm -to Sir Gawain. But the more Sir Lancelot forebore him, the more furiously -Sir Gawain struck, so that Sir Lancelot had much ado to defend himself -and at the last smote Gawain on the helm so mightily that he bore him -to the ground. Then Sir Lancelot stood back from Sir Gawain. But Gawain -cried: - -“Why do ye draw back, traitor knight? Slay ye while ye may, for never -will I cease to be your enemy while my life lasts.” - -“Sir,” said Lancelot, “I shall withstand you as I may; but never will I -smite a fallen knight.” - -Then he spoke to King Arthur: “My Lord, I pray you, if only for this day, -draw off your men. And think upon our former love if ye may; but, be ye -friend or foe, God keep you.” - -Thereupon Sir Lancelot drew off his men into his castle and King Arthur -and his company to their tents. As for Sir Gawain, his squires bore him -to his tent where his wounds were dressed. - - -OF MODRED THE TRAITOR - -So Sir Gawain lay healing of the grim wound which Sir Lancelot had -given him, and there was peace between the two armies, when there came -messengers from Britain bearing letters for King Arthur; and more evil -news than they brought might not well be, for they told how Sir Modred -had usurped his uncle’s realm. First, he had caused it to be noised -abroad that King Arthur was slain in battle with Sir Lancelot and, since -there be many ever ready to believe any idle rumor and eager for any -change, it had been no hard task for Sir Modred to call the lords to a -Parliament and persuade them to make him king. But the Queen could not -be brought to believe that her lord was dead, so she took refuge in the -Tower of London from Sir Modred’s violence, nor was she to be induced to -leave her strong refuge for aught that Modred could promise or threaten. - -This was the news that came to Arthur as he lay encamped about Sir -Lancelot’s castle of Benwick. Forthwith, he bade his host make ready to -move and, when they had reached the coast they embarked and made sail to -reach Britain with all possible speed. - -Sir Modred, on his part, had heard of their sailing and hasted to get -together a great army. It was grievous to see how many a stout knight -held by Modred, ay, even many whom Arthur himself had raised to honor -and fortune; for it is the nature of men to be fickle. Thus it was that, -when Arthur drew near to Dover, he found Modred with a mighty host -waiting to oppose his landing. Then there was a great sea-fight, those -of Modred’s party going out in boats, great and small, to board King -Arthur’s ships and slay him and his men or ever they should come to land. -Right valiantly, did King Arthur bear him, as was his wont, and boldly -his followers fought in his cause, so that at last they drove off their -enemies and landed at Dover in spite of Modred and his array. For that -time Modred fled, and King Arthur bade those of his party bury the slain -and tend the wounded. - -So as they passed from ship to ship, salving and binding the hurts of the -men, they came at last upon Sir Gawain, where he lay at the bottom of a -boat, wounded to the death, for he had received a great blow on the wound -that Sir Lancelot had given him. They bore him to his tent and his uncle, -the King, came to him, sorrowing beyond measure. - -“Methinks,” said the King, “my joy on earth is done; for never have I -loved any men as I have loved you, my nephew, and Sir Lancelot. Sir -Lancelot I have lost, and now I see you on your death-bed.” - -“My King,” said Sir Gawain, “my hour is come and I have got my death -at Sir Lancelot’s hand; for I am smitten on the wound he gave me. And -rightly am I served, for of my wilfulness and stubbornness comes this -unhappy war. I pray you, my uncle, raise me in your arms and let me write -to Sir Lancelot before I die.” - -Thus, then, Sir Gawain wrote: “To Sir Lancelot, the noblest of all -knights, I, Gawain, send greeting before I die. For I am smitten on the -wound ye gave me before your castle of Benwick in France, and I bid all -men bear witness that I sought my own death and that ye are innocent of -it. I pray you, by our friendship of old, come again into Britain and, -when ye look upon my tomb, pray for Gawain of Orkney. Farewell.” - -So Sir Gawain died and was buried in the Chapel at Dover. - - -OF THE BATTLE IN THE WEST - -The day after the battle at Dover, King Arthur and his host pursued Sir -Modred to Barham Down, where again there was a great battle fought, with -much slaughter on both sides; but, in the end, Arthur was victorious, and -Modred fled to Canterbury. - -Now by this time, many that Modred had cheated by his lying reports, -had drawn unto King Arthur, to whom at heart they had ever been loyal, -knowing him for a true and noble King and hating themselves for having -been deceived by such a false usurper as Sir Modred. Then when he found -that he was being deserted, Sir Modred withdrew to the far West, for -there men knew less of what had happened, and so he might still find some -to believe in him and support him; and being without conscience, he even -called to his aid the heathen hosts that his uncle, King Arthur, had -driven from the land in the good years when Lancelot was of the Round -Table. - -King Arthur followed ever after, for in his heart was bitter anger -against the false nephew who had brought woe upon him and all his realm. -At the last, when Modred could flee no further, the two hosts were drawn -up near the shore of the great western sea; and it was the Feast of the -Holy Trinity. - -That night, as King Arthur slept, he thought that Sir Gawain stood before -him, looking just as he did in life, and said to him: - -“My uncle and my King, God in his great love has suffered me to come unto -you, to warn you that in no wise ye fight on the morrow; for if ye do, ye -shall be slain and with you the most part of the people on both sides. -Make ye, therefore, treaty for a month and within that time, Sir Lancelot -shall come to you with all his knights and ye shall overthrow the traitor -and all that hold with him.” - -Therewith Sir Gawain vanished. Immediately the King awoke and called to -him the best and wisest of his knights, the two brethren, Sir Lucan the -Butler and Sir Bedivere and others, to whom he told his dream. Then all -were agreed that, on any terms whatsoever, a treaty should be made with -Sir Modred, even as Sir Gawain had said; and with the dawn, messengers -went to the camp of the enemy, to call Sir Modred to a conference. So it -was determined that the meeting should take place in the sight of both -armies, in an open space between the two camps, and that King Arthur and -Modred should each be accompanied by fourteen knights. Little enough -faith had either in the other, so when they set forth to the meeting, -they bade their hosts join battle if ever they saw a sword drawn. Thus -they went to the conference. - -Now as they talked, it happened that an adder, coming out of a bush hard -by, stung a knight in the foot; and he, seeing the snake, drew his sword -to kill it and thought no harm thereby. But on the instant that the sword -flashed, the trumpets blared on both sides and the two hosts rushed to -battle. Never was there fought a fight of such bitter enmity, for brother -fought with brother, and comrade with comrade, and fiercely they cut and -thrust, with many a bitter word between; while King Arthur himself, his -heart hot within him, rode through and through the battle, seeking the -traitor Modred. So they fought all day till at last the evening fell. -Then Arthur, looking around him, saw of his valiant knights but two left, -Sir Lucan and Sir Bedivere, and these sore wounded; and there, over -against him, by a great heap of the dead, stood Sir Modred, the cause of -all this ruin. Thereupon the King, his heart nigh broken with grief for -the loss of his true knights, cried with a loud voice, “Traitor! now is -thy doom upon thee!” and with his spear gripped in both hands, he rushed -upon Sir Modred and smote him that the weapon stood out a fathom behind. -And Sir Modred knew that he had his death-wound. With all the might that -he had, he thrust him up the spear to the haft and, with his sword, -struck King Arthur upon the head that the steel pierced the helmet and -bit into the head; then Sir Modred fell back, stark and dead. - -Sir Lucan and Sir Bedivere went to the King where he lay, swooning from -the blow, and bore him to a little chapel on the seashore. As they laid -him on the ground, Sir Lucan fell dead beside the King, and Arthur, -coming to himself, found but Sir Bedivere alive beside him. - - -THE DEATH OF ARTHUR - -So King Arthur lay wounded to the death, grieving, not that his end was -come, but for the desolation of his kingdom and the loss of his good -knights. And looking upon the body of Sir Lucan, he sighed and said: - -“Alas! true knight, dead for my sake! If I lived, I should ever grieve -for thy death, but now mine own end draws nigh.” - -Then turning to Sir Bedivere, who stood sorrowing beside him, he said: -“Leave weeping now, for the time is short and much to do. Hereafter -shalt thou weep if thou wilt. But take now my sword Excalibur, hasten to -the water side and fling it into the deep. Then watch what happens and -bring me word thereof.” - -“My Lord,” said Sir Bedivere, “your command shall be obeyed”; and taking -the sword, he departed. But as he went on his way he looked on the sword, -how wondrously it was formed, and the hilt all studded with precious -stones; and, as he looked, he called to mind the marvel by which it had -come into the King’s keeping. For on a certain day, as Arthur walked on -the shore of a great lake, there had appeared above the surface of the -water a hand brandishing a sword. On the instant, the King had leaped -into a boat, and, rowing into the lake, had got the sword and brought it -back to land. Then he had seen how, on one side the blade, was written, -“Keep me,” but on the other, “Throw me away,” and sore perplexed, he had -shown it to Merlin, the great wizard, who said: “Keep it now. The time -for casting away has not yet come.” - -Thinking on this, it seemed to Bedivere that no good, but harm, must come -of obeying the King’s word; so hiding the sword under a tree, he hastened -back to the little chapel. - -Then said the King: “What saw’st thou?” - -“Sir,” answered Bedivere, “I saw naught but the waves, heard naught but -the wind.” - -“That is untrue,” said King Arthur; “I charge thee, as thou art true -knight, go again and spare not to throw away the sword.” - -Sir Bedivere departed a second time and his mind was to obey his lord; -but when he took the sword in his hand, he thought: - -“Sin it is and shameful, to throw away so glorious a sword.” Then hiding -it again, he hastened back to the King. - -“What saw’st thou?” said King Arthur. - -“Sir, I saw the water lap on the crags.” - -Then spoke the King in great wrath: “Traitor and unkind! Twice hast thou -betrayed me! Art dazzled by the splendor of the jewels, thou that, till -now, hast ever been dear and true to me? Go yet again, but if thou fail -me this time, I will arise and, with mine own hands, slay thee.” - -Then Sir Bedivere left the King and, that time, he took the sword -quickly from the place where he had hidden it and, forbearing even to -look upon it, he twisted the belt about it and flung it with all his -force into the water. A wondrous sight he saw, for, as the sword touched -the water, a hand rose from out the deep, caught it, brandished it thrice -and threw it beneath the surface. - -So Bedivere hastened back to the King and told him what he had seen. - -“It is well,” said Arthur; “now, bear me to the water’s edge and hasten, -I pray thee, for I have tarried over long and my wound has taken cold.” - -So Sir Bedivere raised the King on his back and bore him tenderly to the -lonely shore, where the lapping waves floated many an empty helmet and -the fitful moonlight fell on the upturned faces of the dead. Scarce had -they reached the shore when there hove in sight a barge, and on its deck -stood three tall women, robed all in black and wearing crowns on their -heads. - -“Place me in the barge,” said Arthur, and softly Sir Bedivere lifted the -King into it. And these three queens wept sore over Arthur, and one took -his head in her lap and chafed his hands, crying: - -“Alas! my brother, thou hast been overlong in coming, and I fear me thy -wound has taken cold.” - -Then the barge began to move slowly forth from the land. When Sir -Bedivere saw this, he lifted up his voice and cried with a bitter cry: - -“Ah! my Lord Arthur, thou art taken from me! And I, whither shall I go?” - -“Comfort thyself,” said the King, “for in me is no comfort more. I pass -to the Valley of Avilion, to heal me of my grievous wound. If thou seest -me never again, pray for me.” - -So the barge floated away out of sight and Sir Bedivere stood straining -his eyes after it till it had vanished utterly. Then he turned him -about and journeyed through the forest until, at day-break, he reached -a hermitage. Entering it, he prayed the holy hermit that he might abide -with him and there he spent the rest of his life in prayer and holy -exercise. - -But of King Arthur is no more known. Some men, indeed, say that he is not -dead, but abides in the happy Valley of Avilion until such time as his -country’s need is sorest, when he shall come again and deliver it. Others -say that, of a truth, he is dead and that, in the far West, his tomb may -be seen and written on it these words: - -“HERE LIES ARTHUR, ONCE KING AND KING TO BE.” - - -HOW QUEEN GUINEVERE BECAME A NUN AT ALMESBURY AND OF THE DEATH OF SIR -LANCELOT - -When news reached Sir Lancelot in his own land of the treason of Modred, -he gathered his lords and knights together, and rested not till he had -come to Britain to aid King Arthur. He landed at Dover and there the evil -tidings were told him, how the King had met his death at the hands of his -traitor nephew. Then was Sir Lancelot’s heart nigh broken for grief. - -“Alas!” he cried, “that I should live to know my King overthrown by such -a felon! What have I done that I should have caused the deaths of the -good knights Sir Gareth, Sir Gaheris, and Sir Gawain, and yet that such a -villain should escape my sword!” - -Then he desired to be led to Sir Gawain’s tomb, where he remained long -in prayer and in great lamentation; after which, he called to him his -kinsmen and friends and said to them: - -“My fair lords, I thank you all most heartily that, of your courtesy, ye -came with me to this land. That we be come too late is a misfortune that -might not be avoided, though I shall mourn it my life long. And now I -will ride forth alone to find my lady the Queen in the West, whither men -say she has fled. Wait for me, I pray you, for fifteen days and then, if -ye hear naught of me, return to your own lands.” - -So Sir Lancelot rode forth alone, nor would he suffer any to follow him -despite their prayers and entreaties. - -Thus he rode some seven or eight days until, at the last, he came to a -nunnery where he saw in the cloister many nuns waiting on a fair lady, -none other, indeed, than Queen Guinevere herself. And she, looking up, -saw Sir Lancelot and, at the sight, grew so pale that her ladies feared -for her; but she recovered and bade them go and bring Sir Lancelot to her -presence. When he was come, she said to him: - -“Sir Lancelot, glad am I to see thee once again that I may bid thee -farewell; for in this world shall we never meet again.” - -“Sweet Madam,” answered Sir Lancelot, “I was minded, with your leave, to -bear you to my own country, where I doubt not but I should guard you well -and safely from your enemies.” - -“Nay, Lancelot,” said the Queen, “that may not be; I am resolved never to -look upon the world again, but here to pass my life in prayer and in such -good works as I may. But thou, do thou get back to thine own land and -take a fair wife, and ye both shall ever have my prayers.” - -“Madam,” replied Sir Lancelot, “ye know well that shall never be. And -since ye are resolved to lead a life of prayer, I, too, will forsake the -world if I can find hermit to share his cell with me; for ever your will -has been mine.” - -Long and earnestly he looked upon her as though he might never gaze -enough; then, getting to horse, he rode slowly away. - -Nor did they ever meet again in life. For Queen Guinevere abode in -the great nunnery of Almesbury where Sir Lancelot had found her and -presently, for the holiness of her life, was made Abbess. But Sir -Lancelot, after he had left her, rode on his way till he came to the cell -where Sir Bedivere dwelt with the holy hermit; and when Sir Bedivere had -told him all that had befallen, of the great battle in the West, and of -the passing away of Arthur, Sir Lancelot flung down his arms and implored -the holy hermit to let him remain there as the servant of God. So Sir -Lancelot donned the serge gown and abode in the hermitage as the priest -of God. - -Presently, there came riding that way the good Sir Bors, Lancelot’s -nephew; for, when Sir Lancelot returned not to Dover, Sir Bors and -many another knight went forth in search of him. There, then, Sir Bors -remained and, within a half year, there joined themselves to these three -many who in former days had been fellows of the Round Table; and the -fame of their piety spread far and wide. - -So six years passed and then, one night, Lancelot had a vision. It seemed -to him that one said to him: - -“Lancelot, arise and go in haste to Almesbury. There shalt thou find -Queen Guinevere dead and it shall be for thee to bury her.” - -Sir Lancelot arose at once and, calling his fellows to him, told them -his dream. Immediately, with all haste, they set forth toward Almesbury -and, arriving there the second day, found the Queen dead, as had been -foretold in the vision. So with the state and ceremony befitting a great -Queen, they buried her in the Abbey of Glastonbury, in that same church -where, some say, King Arthur’s tomb is to be found. Lancelot it was who -performed the funeral rites and chanted the requiem; but when all was -done, he pined away, growing weaker daily. So at the end of six weeks, he -called to him his fellows and, bidding them all farewell, desired that -his dead body should be conveyed to the Joyous Garde, there to be buried, -for that in the church at Glastonbury he was not worthy to lie. And that -same night he died, and was buried, as he had desired, in his own castle. -So passed from the world the bold Sir Lancelot du Lac, bravest, most -courteous, and most gentle of knights, whose peer the world has never -seen nor ever shall see. - -After Sir Lancelot’s death, Sir Bors and the pious knights, his -companions, took their way to the Holy Land and there they died in battle -against the Turk. - -So ends this story of King Arthur and his noble fellowship of the Round -Table. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Discussion.= 1. Were Arthur and his knights successful in restoring - order in the kingdom? 2. Why were they so successful? 3. What value - have union and loyalty in any cause? 4. When did this union of King - Arthur and his knights begin to weaken? 5. Whose unfaithfulness - and treachery began its destruction? 6. What was the great fault - in Modred that prevented him from being loyal? 7. How did “true - knights” regard Sir Lancelot? 8. Did Arthur think it right to take - the law into his own hands? 9. Read lines which show that he did not - think himself greater than the law. 10. Can good government exist - without respect for law? 11. Trace the progress of disunion from its - beginning in Modred’s jealousy as follows: jealousy; plot; combat; - deaths; vengeance; false accusation; decree of death by burning; - rescue; deaths; vow of vengeance; war. 12. What proof did Sir - Lancelot give of his love for the King, even while at war with him? - 13. Was King Arthur at fault when he allowed himself to be persuaded - by Sir Gawain to make war on Sir Lancelot? 14. Read the lines that - show the King loved Lancelot, in spite of all that had come between - them. 15. Read lines that show how Sir Gawain’s love and generosity - triumphed over his desire for vengeance. 16. Over what did King - Arthur grieve when he lay wounded after the “battle in the West”? 17. - Do you think it is the fine ideals of these old legends—union for - defense of the weak, mercy to all, and wrongful gain to none—that - make them live? - - =Phrases= - - boded ill, 149, 2 - jealous rage, 149, 11 - ill counsel, 150, 33 - from the press, 151, 21 - rendered me account, 152, 14 - safe conduct, 152, 28 - housings of the horses, 152, 33 - it behooves me, 153, 17 - felon knight, 153, 22 - under surety of my word, 154, 8 - fasten a quarrel upon him, 154, 9 - by stealth, 154, 13 - fulfilling your behest, 155, 14 - to hie us home, 156, 25 - the scoff of all men, 156, 25 - faith I owe to knighthood, 156, 32 - noised abroad, 158, 12 - idle rumor, 158, 14 - as was his wont, 158, 35 - Modred and his array, 159, 2 - sorrowing beyond measure, 159, 10 - heathen hosts, 160, 6 - I charge thee, 162, 24 - chafed his hands, 163, 20 - donned the serge gown, 165, 31 - funeral rites, 166, 15 - - - - -NARRATIVES IN VERSE - -[Illustration] - - -SIR PATRICK SPENS - -FOLK BALLAD - - The king sits in Dumferling toune, - Drinking the blude-reid wine: - “O whar will I get guid sailor, - To sail this schip of mine?” - - Up and spak an eldern knicht,[10] - Sat at the king’s richt kne: - “Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor - That sails upon the se.” - - The king has written a braid[11] letter, - And signed it wi his hand, - And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, - Was walking on the sand. - - The first line that Sir Patrick red, - A loud lauch lauched he; - The next line that Sir Patrick red, - The teir blinded his ee. - - “O wha is this has don this deid, - This ill deid don to me, - To send me out this time o’ the yeir, - To sail upon the se! - - “Mak haste, mak haste, my mirry men all, - Our guid schip sails the morne.” - “O say na sae[12], my master deir, - For I feir a deadlie storme. - - “Late, late yestreen[13] saw the new moone, - Wi the auld moone in hir arme, - And I feir, I feir, my deir master, - That we will cum to harme.” - - O our Scots nobles wer richt laith[14] - To weet[15] their cork-heild schoone[16]; - Bot lang owre[17] a’ the play wer playd, - Thair hats they swam aboone.[18] - - O lang, lang may their ladies sit, - Wi thair fans into their hand, - Or eir[19] they se Sir Patrick Spens, - Cum sailing to the land. - - O lang, lang may the ladies stand, - Wi thair gold kems[20] in their hair, - Waiting for thair ain deir lords, - For they’ll se thame na mair. - - Haf owre[21], haf owre to Aberdour, - It’s fiftie fadom[22] deip, - And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spens, - Wi the Scots lords at his feit.[23] - -[10] _knicht_, knight - -[11] _braid_, long - -[12] _na sae_, not so - -[13] _yestreen_, yesterday evening - -[14] _laith_, loath - -[15] _weet_, wet - -[16] _schoone_, shoes - -[17] _owre_, before - -[18] _aboone_, above - -[19] _or eir_, before - -[20] _kems_, combs - -[21] _owre_, over - -[22] _fadom_, fathoms - -[23] _feit_, feet - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Historical Note.= The old folk ballads, of which this one is an - excellent example, have all come down to us from the far-off past. - Such ballads are not the work of any one author, but like the stories - of King Arthur, were preserved mainly in the memories of men. Some - of them were sung or recited to the music of the harp or lute by - minstrels who wandered from village to village, and from castle to - castle, entertaining their hearers in return for food and lodging; - or by the bards and minstrels who were maintained by kings and - nobles to entertain them and to celebrate their deeds and honors. - Often they were made by the people, not by professional singers, - and were expressions of the folk love of adventure. Indeed, the - best definition of a popular, or folk, ballad is that it is “a tale - telling itself in song.” This means that a ballad always tells a - story; that it has no known author, being composed by several people - or by a community and then handed down orally, not in writing, from - generation to generation; and finally, that it is sung, not recited. - In this way such folk ballads as “Sir Patrick Spens” were transmitted - for generations, in different versions, before they were written down - and became a part of what we call _literature_, that is, something - written. When the invention of the printing press made it possible - to put these old ballads in a permanent form, they were collected - from the recitations of old men and women who knew them, and printed. - Thus they have become a precious literary possession, telling us - something of the life, the history, and the standards, superstitions, - and beliefs of distant times, and thrilling us with their stirring - stories. The beauty of these old ballads lies in the story they - tell, and in their directness and simplicity. They are almost wholly - without literary ornament; their language is the language of the - people, not of the court. - - Many modern poets have written stories in verse which are also called - ballads. Some are in imitation of the old ballads, using the old - ballad meter and riming system, and employing old-fashioned words and - expressions, to add to the effect. Other modern ballads are simple - narratives in verse—short stories dealing with stirring subjects, - with battle, adventure, etc. But while the true old ballad holds the - attention upon the story only, the modern ballads often introduce - descriptions of the characters. - - =Discussion.= 1. Why did the king choose Sir Patrick Spens? 2. What - did Sir Patrick say when he had read the king’s letter? 3. What signs - of a storm had been noticed? 4. Point out all the ways in which the - ballad tells that the ship was wrecked. 5. How have the old ballads - come down to us? 6. What other old ballad have you read? 7. Tell how - the old ballads came into being, and name a characteristic of them. - 8. What do the old ballads tell us of the life of the early people? - 9. How does a modern ballad differ from a folk, or popular, ballad? - - -THE SKELETON IN ARMOR - -HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW - - “Speak! speak! thou fearful guest! - 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; - And, like the water’s flow - Under December’s snow, - Came a dull voice of woe - From the heart’s chamber. - - “I was a Viking old! - My deeds, though manifold, - No Skald 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-bound, - Skimmed the half-frozen Sound, - That the poor whimpering hound - Trembled to walk on. - - “Oft to his frozen lair - Tracked I the grizzly bear, - While from my path the hare - Fled like a shadow; - Oft through the forest dark - Followed the were-wolf’s bark, - Until the soaring lark - Sang from the meadow. - - “But when I older grew, - Joining a corsair’s crew, - O’er the dark sea I flew - With the marauders. - Wild was the life we led, - Many the souls that sped, - Many the hearts that bled, - By our stern orders. - - “Many a wassail-bout - Wore the long winter out; - Often our midnight shout - Set the cocks crowing, - As we the Berserk’s tale - Measured in cups of ale, - Draining the oaken pail, - Filled to o’erflowing. - - “Once as I told in glee - Tales of the stormy sea, - Soft eyes did gaze on me, - Burning yet tender; - 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, - Yielding, yet half afraid, - And in the forest’s shade - Our vows were plighted. - Under its loosened vest - Fluttered her little breast, - Like birds within their nest - By the hawk frighted. - - “Bright in her father’s hall - Shields gleamed upon the wall, - Loud sang the minstrels all, - Chanting his glory; - When of old Hildebrand - I asked his daughter’s hand, - Mute did the minstrels stand - To hear my story. - - “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, - I 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 armèd 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; - 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. - - “There lived we many years; - Time dried the maiden’s tears; - She had forgot her fears, - She was a mother; - Death closed her mild blue eyes, - Under that tower she lies; - Ne’er shall the sun arise - On such another! - - “Still grew my bosom then, - Still as a stagnant fen! - Hateful to me were men, - The sunlight hateful. - In the vast forest here, - Clad in my warlike gear, - Fell I upon my spear, - Oh, death was grateful! - - Thus, seamed with many scars, - 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. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 81. - - =Discussion.= 1. With which stanza does the narrative begin? 2. - What may the first three stanzas be called? 3. Which of these three - stanzas is descriptive? 4. In which does the Viking make himself - known? 5. In what stanzas is the story told? 6. With what line does - the story end? 7. What relation to the poem has the last line? 8. - Describe the scene suggested by the first stanza; who is speaking? - 9. Describe the guest to whom the poet speaks. 10. In using the word - “fearful” to describe this guest, was the poet emphasizing only the - outward appearance of his guest? 11. Can you use other words equally - exact and poetical for “daunt” and “haunt”? 12. Give a name to the - “flashes” that are seen when the Northern skies gleam in December. - 13. To what is the voice of the skeleton compared? 14. Is it an apt - comparison? 15. Does the second stanza prepare us for a story of - happy things? 16. What stanzas help you to see the kind of people the - Vikings were, and to imagine the life they led? 17. The Viking showed - his wonderful courage in going out into the “open main” in a wild - hurricane; give all the other evidences of his courage found in the - poem. 18. The Introduction (pages 89 and 90) gives various motives - for seeking adventures; do you think the Knights and the Vikings had - the same motive? 19. How does this ballad differ from a folk ballad, - such as “Sir Patrick Spens”? 20. Pronounce the following: daunt; - palms; alms; haunt; launched. - - =Phrases= - - rude armor, 171, 3 - fleshless palms, 171, 6 - cavernous eyes, 171, 9 - pale flashes, 171, 10 - heart’s chamber, 171, 16 - poor whimpering hound, 172, 3 - frozen lair, 172, 5 - souls that sped, 172, 18 - measured in cups of ale, 172, 26 - soft splendor, 173, 4 - vows were plighted, 173, 8 - lips unshorn, 173, 26 - death without quarter, 174, 24 - wings aslant, 174, 29 - open main, 175, 1 - stretching to leeward, 175, 8 - time dried the maiden’s tears, 175, 14 - stagnant fen, 175, 22 - warlike gear, 175, 26 - flowing bowl, 176, 1 - - -THE THREE FISHERS - -CHARLES KINGSLEY - - Three fishers went sailing away to the West, - Away to the West as the sun went down; - Each thought on the woman who loved him the best, - And the children stood watching them out of the town; - For men must work and women must weep, - And there’s little to earn and many to keep, - Though the harbor bar be moaning. - - Three wives sat up in the lighthouse tower, - And they trimmed the lamps as the sun went down; - They looked at the squall and they looked at the shower, - And the nightrack came rolling up ragged and brown; - But men must work and women must weep, - Though storms be sudden and waters deep, - And the harbor bar be moaning. - - Three corpses lay out on the shining sands, - In the morning gleam as the tide went down, - And the women are weeping and wringing their hands - For those who will never come home to the town; - For men must work and women must weep, - And the sooner it’s over the sooner to sleep, - And good-bye to the bar and its moaning. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Charles Kingsley (1819-1875), clergyman, lecturer, poet, - and novelist, was born in Dartmoor, England. During his earlier years - he lived in the beautiful Fen Country, the scenery of which made a - deep impression on him. He was a friend of Tennyson and a poet of - real excellence. His ballads, “The Three Fishers” and “The Sands of - Dee,” are widely read and admired, and his novel _Westward Ho!_ is - a brilliant narrative of adventure. In “The Three Fishers” he shows - that he has studied the fisher folk of his native country and sees - with genuine sympathy their hard life and the courage that enables - them to brave the perils of the sea. - - =Discussion.= 1. What does the poem tell you about the three fishers? - 2. What does it suggest? 3. Where could a stanza be inserted to tell - a part of the story that is only suggested? 4. Do you think this - would improve the poem? 5. What signs were there of an approaching - storm? 6. Why does the occupation of deep-sea fishers train them to - understand signs indicating changes in the weather? 7. Why did these - fishers go out to sea notwithstanding signs of a storm? 8. What other - thought do you think was in their minds as “Each thought on the woman - who loved him best”? 9. What idea of the deep-sea fishers does this - poem give you? 10. What idea of the sea? 11. What other poems do you - know that tell of life on the sea? 12. What idea of the sea does each - give? - - =Phrases= - - harbor bar be moaning, 177, 7 - nightrack came rolling, 177, 11 - morning gleam, 177, 16 - the sooner to sleep, 177, 20 - - -LORD ULLIN’S DAUGHTER - -THOMAS CAMPBELL - - A chieftain to the Highlands bound - Cries “Boatman, do not tarry! - And I’ll give thee a silver pound - To row us o’er the ferry!” - - “Now who be ye, would cross Lochgyle, - This dark and stormy water?” - “O I’m the chief of Ulva’s isle, - And this, Lord Ullin’s daughter. - - “And fast before her father’s men - Three days we’ve fled together, - For should he find us in the glen, - My blood would stain the heather. - - “His horsemen hard behind us ride— - Should they our steps discover, - Then who will cheer my bonny bride, - When they have slain her lover?” - - Out spoke the hardy Highland wight, - “I’ll go, my chief, I’m ready; - It is not for your silver bright, - But for your winsome lady. - - “And by my word! the bonny bird - In danger shall not tarry; - So though the waves are raging white - I’ll row you o’er the ferry.” - - By this the storm grew loud apace, - The water-wraith was shrieking; - And in the scowl of Heaven each face - Grew dark as they were speaking. - - But still as wilder blew the wind, - And as the night grew drearer, - Adown the glen rode arméd men, - Their trampling sounded nearer. - - “O haste thee, haste!” the lady cries, - “Though tempests round us gather; - I’ll meet the raging of the skies, - But not an angry father.” - - The boat has left a stormy land, - A stormy sea before her— - When, oh! too strong for human hand - The tempest gather’d o’er her. - - And still they row’d amidst the roar - Of waters fast prevailing; - Lord Ullin reach’d that fatal shore— - His wrath was changed to wailing. - - For, sore dismay’d, through storm and shade - His child he did discover; - One lovely hand she stretch’d for aid, - And one was round her lover. - - “Come back! come back!” he cried in grief, - “Across this stormy water; - And I’ll forgive your Highland chief, - My daughter!—Oh, my daughter!” - - ’Twas vain: the loud waves lash’d the shore, - Return or aid preventing; - The waters wild went o’er his child, - And he was left lamenting. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Thomas Campbell (1777-1844) was a popular Scottish - poet. He was born in Glasgow, his father being a prominent merchant - of that city. At an early age Campbell began to write poetry, - and at twenty-one had published “The Pleasures of Hope,” a poem - that was received with much favor. He excelled in war poetry, his - “Hohenlinden”, “The Battle of the Baltic”, and “Ye Mariners of - England” being the most widely read. His ballads “Lochiel” and “Lord - Ullin’s Daughter” are the best known. Campbell is remembered not - alone for these stirring narrative poems, but also for the excellence - of favorite lines that he wrote, such as “To live in the hearts we - leave behind is not to die,” and “’Tis distance lends enchantment to - the view.” - - =Discussion.= 1. Tell briefly the story of the poem. 2. What - picture do the first two stanzas give you? 3. What reason did the - boatman give for saying he would row them over the ferry? 4. What - change of time do you notice in the tenth stanza? 5. What does the - eleventh stanza tell you? 6. Which stanza tells you of the tragedy? - 7. What other poems of the sea have you read in this book? 8. What - characteristics of the ballad has this poem? - - =Phrases= - - to the Highlands bound, 178, 1 - stain the heather, 178, 12 - hardy Highland wight, 179, 1 - raging white, 179, 7 - grew loud apace, 179, 9 - in the scowl of Heaven, 179, 11 - waters fast prevailing, 179, 26 - fatal shore, 179, 27 - - -THE PIPES AT LUCKNOW - -JOHN G. WHITTIER - - Pipes of the misty moorlands, - Voice of the glens and hills, - The droning of the torrents, - The treble of the rills! - Not the braes of broom and heather, - Nor the mountains dark with rain, - Nor maiden bower, nor border tower, - Have heard your sweetest strain! - - Dear to the Lowland reaper, - And plaided mountaineer, - To the cottage and the castle - The Scottish pipes are dear; - Sweet sounds the ancient pibroch - O’er mountain, loch, and glade; - But the sweetest of all music - The Pipes at Lucknow played. - - Day by day the Indian tiger - Louder yelled, and nearer crept; - Round and round the jungle-serpent - Near and nearer circles swept. - “Pray for rescue, wives and mothers— - Pray today!” the soldier said; - “Tomorrow, death’s between us - And the wrong and shame we dread.” - - O they listened, looked, and waited, - Till their hope became despair; - And the sobs of low bewailing - Filled the pauses of their prayer. - Then up spake a Scottish maiden, - With her ear unto the ground: - “Dinna ye hear it?—dinna ye hear it? - The pipes o’ Havelock sound!” - - Hushed the wounded man his groaning; - Hushed the wife her little ones; - Alone they heard the drum-roll - And the roar of Sepoy guns. - But to sounds of home and childhood - The Highland ear was true; - As her mother’s cradle-crooning - The mountain pipes she knew. - - Like the march of soundless music - Through the vision of the seer, - More of feeling than of hearing, - Of the heart than of the ear, - She knew the droning pibroch, - She knew the Campbell’s call; - “Hark! hear ye no’ MacGregor’s, - The grandest o’ them all!” - - O they listened, dumb and breathless, - And they caught the sound at last; - Faint and far beyond the Goomtee - Rose and fell the piper’s blast! - Then a burst of wild thanksgiving - Mingled woman’s voice and man’s; - “God be praised!—the March of Havelock! - The piping of the clans!” - - Louder, nearer, fierce as vengeance, - Sharp and shrill as swords at strife, - Came the wild MacGregor’s clan-call, - Stinging all the air to life. - But when the far-off dust-cloud - To plaided legions grew, - Full tenderly and blithesomely - The pipes of rescue blew! - - Round the silver domes of Lucknow, - Moslem mosque and pagan shrine, - Breathed the air to Britons dearest, - The air of Auld Lang Syne. - O’er the cruel roll of war-drums - Rose that sweet and homelike strain; - And the tartan clove the turban, - As the Goomtee cleaves the plain. - - Dear to the corn-land reaper - And plaided mountaineer, - To the cottage and the castle - The piper’s song is dear. - Sweet sounds the Gaelic pibroch - O’er mountain, glen, and glade; - But the sweetest of all music - The Pipes at Lucknow played! - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 60. - - =Historical Note.= The Indian Mutiny was the great revolt of the - Bengal native army (the Sepoys) against the British rule in 1857. At - Lucknow, in northern India, the English were almost overcome. The - town, defended by a garrison of only 1720 men, who were protecting - many women and children, was besieged by a greatly superior number. - The defense, nevertheless, was maintained from the 30th of June to - the 26th of September, when the relief column under the Scottish - general, Sir Henry Havelock, preceded by the music of the bagpipes, - reached the city. - - =Discussion.= 1. What stanzas picture Scotland and the feeling her - people have for the music of the bagpipe? 2. What contrasts show how - universal this feeling is? 3. In the first stanza, what is this music - said to be like? 4. What do you know about the bagpipe that makes - this comparison especially apt? 5. The poem tells a story; with what - stanzas does the story begin and end? 6. What relation to this story - have the first two stanzas? 7. What do you know of the Indian Mutiny - that helps you to understand this story? 8. Who first heard the sound - of the pipes? 9. How is this accounted for? 10. What did this sound - mean to her? 11. Read the stirring lines that give the spirit of the - martial music of the pipes. 12. Why did the piper change to the air - “Auld Lang Syne”? What stanzas picture the feeling of those who heard - this music? 13. What people wear the “tartan”? The “turban”? 14. What - is the most interesting point in the story? 15. Does the story make - clear the poet’s reason for saying that the “sweetest strain” the - pipes ever played was at Lucknow? - - =Phrases= - - droning of the torrents, 181, 3 - treble of the rills, 181, 4 - braes of broom, 181, 5 - plaided mountaineer, 181, 10 - ancient pibroch, 181, 13 - the Indian tiger, 181, 17 - jungle-serpent, 181, 19 - low bewailing, 181, 27 - cradle-crooning, 182, 11 - vision of the seer, 182, 14 - fierce as vengeance, 182, 29 - Moslem mosque, 183, 6 - pagan shrine, 183, 6 - Goomtee cleaves the plain, 183, 12 - - -SPANISH WATERS - -JOHN MASEFIELD - - Spanish waters, Spanish waters, you are ringing in my ears, - Like a slow sweet piece of music from the gray forgotten years; - Telling tales, and beating tunes, and bringing weary thought to me - Of the sandy beach at Muertos, where I would that I could be. - - There’s a surf breaks on Los Muertos, and it never stops to roar, - And it’s there we came to anchor, and it’s there we went ashore, - Where the blue lagoon is silent amid snags of rotting trees, - Dropping like the clothes of corpses cast up by the seas. - - We anchored at Los Muertos when the dipping sun was red, - We left her half-a-mile to sea, to west of Nigger Head; - And before the mist was on the Cay, before the day was done, - We were all ashore on Muertos with the gold that we had won. - - We bore it through the marshes in a half-score battered chests, - Sinking, in the sucking quagmires, to the sunburn on our breasts, - Heaving over tree-trunks, gasping, damning at the flies and heat, - Longing for a long drink, out of silver, in the ship’s cool lazareet. - - The moon came white and ghostly as we laid the treasure down, - There was gear there’d make a beggarman as rich as Lima Town, - Copper charms and silver trinkets from the chests of Spanish crews, - Gold doubloons and double moydores, louis d’ors and ortagues. - - Clumsy yellow-metal earrings from the Indians of Brazil, - Uncut emeralds out of Rio, bezoar stone from Guayaquil, - Silver, in the crude and fashioned, pots of old Arica bronze, - Jewels from the bones of Incas desecrated by the Dons. - - We smoothed the place with mattocks, and we took and blazed the tree, - Which marks yon where the gear is hid that none will ever see, - And we laid aboard the ship again, and south away we steers, - Through the loud surf of Los Muertos which is beating in my ears. - - I’m the last alive that knows it. All the rest have gone their ways, - Killed, or died, or come to anchor in the old Mulatas Cays, - And I go singing, fiddling, old and starved and in despair, - And I know where all that gold is hid, if I were only there. - - It’s not the way to end it all. I’m old and nearly blind, - And an old man’s past’s a strange thing, for it never leaves his mind. - And I see in dreams, awhiles, the beach, the sun’s disc dipping red, - And the tall ship, under topsails, swaying in past Nigger Head. - - I’d be glad to step ashore there. Glad to take a pick and go - To the lone blazed coco-palm tree in the place no others know, - And lift the gold and silver that has moldered there for years - By the loud surf of Los Muertos which is beating in my ears. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= John Masefield (1875-⸺) is an English poet and - playwright. When a small boy he had a mania for running away from - home; to satisfy this longing his father sent him to sea when he was - fourteen years old, in charge of the captain of a sailing vessel. - During his travels he collected much material which he afterward - used in his poems. On one of his trips he landed in New York City, - where he acquired considerable knowledge of American customs. Next to - Kipling he is England’s greatest singer of her “Seven Seas and Five - Oceans.” - - Early in 1916 Masefield came to the United States on a lecture tour - which aroused much interest in him and his writings. During the - recent World War he served in France in connection with the Red - Cross. He also served in the campaign on the Gallipoli Peninsula and - wrote a splendid account of that unfortunate undertaking. - - =Discussion.= 1. Who is addressed in the first stanza? 2. What - comparison do you find in this stanza? 3. Tell the story in your own - words. 4. Where was the treasure secured? 5. What marks of the ballad - do you find in this poem? 6. What do you particularly like in this - poem? 7. Pronounce the following: quagmires; palm. - - =Phrases= - - gray forgotten years, 184, 2 - bringing weary thought, 184, 3 - sunburn on our breasts, 185, 2 - rich as Lima Town, 185, 6 - in the crude and fashioned, 185, 11 - laid aboard the ship, 185, 15 - - -KILMENY - -(A SONG OF THE TRAWLERS) - -ALFRED NOYES - - Dark, dark lay the drifters, against the red west, - As they shot their long meshes of steel overside; - And the oily green waters were rocking to rest - When _Kilmeny_ went out, at the turn of the tide. - And nobody knew where that lassie would roam, - For the magic that called her was tapping unseen. - It was well nigh a week ere _Kilmeny_ came home, - And nobody knew where _Kilmeny_ had been. - - She’d a gun at her bow that was Newcastle’s best, - And a gun at her stern that was fresh from the Clyde, - And a secret her skipper had never confessed, - Not even at dawn, to his newly wed bride; - And a wireless that whispered above like a gnome, - The laughter of London, the boasts of Berlin. - O it may have been mermaids that lured her from home, - But nobody knew where _Kilmeny_ had been. - - It was dark when _Kilmeny_ came home from her quest, - With her bridge dabbled red where her skipper had died; - But she moved like a bride with a rose at her breast; - And “Well done, _Kilmeny_!” the admiral cried. - Now at sixty-four fathom a conger may come, - And nose at the bones of a drowned submarine; - But late in the evening _Kilmeny_ came home, - And nobody knew where _Kilmeny_ had been. - - There’s a wandering shadow that stares at the foam, - Though they sing all the night to old England, their queen, - Late, late in the evening _Kilmeny_ came home, - And nobody knew where _Kilmeny_ had been. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Alfred Noyes (1880-⸺), an English poet, lives in London. - He was educated at Oxford, where for three years he rowed on the - college crew. As soon as his college days were over he devoted - himself to literature, contributing to many English magazines. During - the World War he wrote many stirring poems, of which “Kilmeny” is - among the best. In 1918-1919 Mr. Noyes was professor of literature in - Princeton University. - - =Discussion.= 1. What picture does the first stanza give you? 2. What - suggests to you the work in which the trawler was engaged? 3. Which - stanza suggests the result of _Kilmeny’s_ trip? 4. What was the magic - that called _Kilmeny_ to the quest? 5. What other poems of the sea - have you read in this book? 6. Tell what you know about the author. - - =Phrases= - - against the red west, 186, 1 - long meshes of steel, 186, 2 - turn of the tide, 186, 4 - Newcastle’s best, 187, 1 - like a gnome, 187, 5 - wandering shadow, 187, 17 - - -THE GUARDS CAME THROUGH - -SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE - - Men of the Twenty-first - Up by the Chalk Pit Wood, - Weak with our wounds and our thirst, - Wanting our sleep and our food, - After a day and a night— - God, shall we ever forget! - Beaten and broke in the fight, - But sticking it—sticking it yet. - Trying to hold the line, - Fainting and spent and done, - Always the thud and the whine, - Always the yell of the Hun! - Northumberland, Lancaster, York, - Durham, and Somerset, - Fighting alone, worn to the bone, - But sticking it—sticking it yet. - - Never a message of hope! - Never a word of cheer! - Fronting Hill 70’s shell-swept slope, - With the dull dead plain in our rear. - Always the whine of the shell, - Always the roar of its burst, - Always the tortures of hell, - As waiting and wincing we cursed - Our luck and the guns and the _Boche_, - When our Corporal shouted, “Stand to!” - And I heard someone cry, “Clear the front for the Guards!” - And the Guards came through. - - Our throats they were parched and hot, - But Lord, if you’d heard the cheers! - Irish and Welsh and Scot, - Coldstream and Grenadiers. - Two brigades, if you please, - Dressing as straight as a hem, - We—we were down on our knees, - Praying for us and for them! - Lord, I could speak for a week, - But how could you understand! - How should _your_ cheeks be wet, - Such feelin’s don’t come to _you_. - But when can we or my mates forget, - When the Guards came through? - - “Five yards left extend!” - It passed from rank to rank. - Line after line with never a bend, - And a touch of the London swank. - A trifle of swank and dash, - Cool as a home parade, - Twinkle and glitter and flash, - Flinching never a shade, - With the shrapnel right in their face - Doing their Hyde Park stunt, - Keeping their swing at an easy pace, - Arms at the trail, eyes front! - Man, it was great to see! - Man, it was fine to do! - It’s a cot and a hospital ward for me, - But I’ll tell ’em in Blighty, wherever I be, - How the Guards came through. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (1859-⸺) is an English author. - He was educated in Stonyhurst College and at the University of - Edinburgh. In 1885 he was graduated as a doctor of medicine and soon - afterwards began practice. It was about this time that his first - book, _A Study in Scarlet_, was published. His greatest success - came with the publication of _The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_, a - collection of detective stories that introduced a character who has - become as famous as if he had actually lived. Other books that have - added to his fame are _The Lost World_, _The New Revelation_, and - _The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes_. He has written many interesting - articles on the World War, particularly descriptions of the western - campaigns. In 1902 he was knighted. - - =Discussion.= 1. Who is supposed to be telling the story? 2. Why - were the soldiers of the Twenty-first so disheartened? 3. What - effect upon them had the arrival of the Guards? 4. Do you think - that you would have felt like cheering if you had been a soldier of - the Twenty-first? 5. What effect upon you has the line “Dressing as - straight as a hem”? 6. What picture does the last stanza give you? 7. - Does the poet make you see the Guards as they came through? 8. What - do the last three lines suggest? 9. What does “Blighty” mean to you? - 10. Why does the one who is telling the story say that _we_ could not - understand? - - =Phrases= - - shell-swept slope, 188, 19 - waiting and wincing, 188, 24 - swank and dash, 189, 19 - arms at the trail, 189, 26 - - - - -STORIES OF THE SEA - -[Illustration] - - -A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTROM - -EDGAR ALLAN POE - - -MY FIRST VIEW OF THE MAELSTROM - -We had now reached the summit of the loftiest crag. For some minutes the -old man seemed too much exhausted to speak. - -“Not long ago,” said he at length, “and I could have guided you on this -route as well as the youngest of my sons; but, about three years past, -there happened to me an event such as never happened before to mortal -man—or at least such as no man ever survived to tell of—and the six -hours of deadly terror which I then endured have broken me up, body and -soul. You suppose me a _very_ old man—but I am not. It took less than a -single day to change these hairs from a jetty black to white, to weaken -my limbs, and to unstring my nerves, so that I tremble at the least -exertion, and am frightened at a shadow. Do you know I can scarcely look -over this little cliff without getting giddy?” - -The “little cliff,” upon whose edge he had so carelessly thrown himself -down to rest that the weightier portion of his body hung over it, while -he was only kept from falling by the tenure of his elbow on its extreme -and slippery edge—this “little cliff” arose, a sheer unobstructed -precipice of black shining rock, some fifteen or sixteen hundred feet -from the world of crags beneath us. Nothing would have tempted me to -within half a dozen yards of its brink. In truth, so deeply was I excited -by the perilous position of my companion, that I fell at full length upon -the ground, clung to the shrubs around me, and dared not even glance -upward at the sky—while I struggled in vain to divest myself of the idea -that the very foundations of the mountain were in danger from the fury -of the winds. It was long before I could reason myself into sufficient -courage to sit up and look out into the distance. - -“You must get over these fancies,” said the guide, “for I have brought -you here that you might have the best possible view of the scene of that -event I mentioned—and to tell you the whole story with the spot just -under your eye. - -“We are now,” he continued, in that particularizing manner which -distinguished him—“we are now close upon the Norwegian coast—in the -sixty-eighth degree of latitude—in the great province of Nordland—and in -the dreary district of Lofoden. The mountain upon whose top we sit is -Helseggen, the Cloudy. Now raise yourself up a little higher—hold on to -the grass if you feel giddy—so—and look out, beyond the belt of vapor -beneath us, into the sea.” - -I looked dizzily, and beheld a wide expanse of ocean, whose waters wore -so inky a hue as to bring at once to my mind the Nubian geographer’s -account of the _Mare Tenebrarum_. A panorama more deplorably desolate no -human imagination can conceive. To the right and left, as far as the eye -could reach, there lay outstretched, like ramparts of the world, lines of -horridly black and beetling cliff, whose character of gloom was but the -more forcibly illustrated by the surf which reared high up against it, -its white and ghastly crest, howling and shrieking forever. Just opposite -the promontory upon whose apex we were placed, and at a distance of some -five or six miles out at sea, there was visible a small, bleak-looking -island; or, more properly, its position was discernible through the -wilderness of surge in which it was enveloped. About two miles nearer -the land arose another of smaller size, hideously craggy and barren, and -encompassed at various intervals by a cluster of dark rocks. - -The appearance of the ocean, in the space between the more distant island -and the shore, had something very unusual about it. Although, at the -time, so strong a gale was blowing landward that a brig in the remote -offing lay to under a double-reefed try-sail, and constantly plunged her -whole hull out of sight, still there was here nothing like a regular -swell, but only a short, quick, angry cross-dashing of water in every -direction—as well in the teeth of the wind as otherwise. Of foam there -was little except in the immediate vicinity of the rocks. - -“The island in the distance,” resumed the old man, “is called by the -Norwegians Vurrgh. The one midway is Moskoe. That a mile to the northward -is Ambaaren. Yonder are Iflesen, Hoeyholm, Kieldholm, Suarven, and -Buckholm. Farther off—between Moskoe and Vurrgh—are Otterholm, Flimen, -Sandflesen, and Skarholm. These are the true names of the places—but why -it had been thought necessary to name them at all is more than either you -or I can understand. Do you hear anything? Do you see any change in the -water?” - -We had now been about ten minutes upon the top of Helseggen, to which -we had ascended from the interior of Lofoden, so that we had caught no -glimpse of the sea until it had burst upon us from the summit. As the -old man spoke, I became aware of a loud and gradually increasing sound, -like the moaning of a vast herd of buffaloes upon an American prairie; -and at the same moment I perceived that what seamen term the _chopping_ -character of the ocean beneath us, was rapidly changing into a current -which set to the eastward. Even while I gazed, this current acquired -a monstrous velocity. Each moment added to its speed—to its headlong -impetuosity. In five minutes the whole sea, as far as Vurrgh, was lashed -into ungovernable fury; but it was between Moskoe and the coast that -the main uproar held its sway. Here the vast bed of the waters, seamed -and scarred into a thousand conflicting channels, burst suddenly into -frenzied convulsion—heaving, boiling, hissing—gyrating in gigantic -and innumerable vortices, and all whirling and plunging on to the -eastward with a rapidity which water never elsewhere assumes, except in -precipitous descents. - -In a few minutes more, there came over the scene another radical -alteration. The general surface grew somewhat more smooth, and the -whirlpools, one by one, disappeared, while prodigious streaks of foam -became apparent where none had been seen before. These streaks, at -length, spreading out to a great distance, and entering into combination, -took unto themselves the gyratory motion of the subsided vortices, and -seemed to form the germ of another more vast. Suddenly—very suddenly—this -assumed a distinct and definite existence, in a circle of more than a -mile in diameter. The edge of the whirl was represented by a broad belt -of gleaming spray; but no particle of this slipped into the mouth of the -terrific funnel, whose interior, as far as the eye could fathom it, was -a smooth, shining, and jet-black wall of water, inclined to the horizon -at an angle of some forty-five degrees, speeding dizzily round and round -with a swaying and sweltering motion, and sending forth to the winds an -appalling voice, half shriek, half roar, such as not even the mighty -cataract of Niagara ever lifts up in its agony to Heaven. - -The mountain trembled to its very base, and the rock rocked. I threw -myself upon my face, and clung to the scant herbage in an excess of -nervous agitation. - -“This,” said I at length, to the old man—“this _can_ be nothing else than -the great whirlpool of the Maelstrom.” - -“So it is sometimes termed,” said he. “We Norwegians call it the -Moskoe-strom, from the island of Moskoe in the midway.” - -The ordinary accounts of this vortex had by no means prepared me for what -I saw. That of Jonas Ramus, which is perhaps the most circumstantial of -any, cannot impart the faintest conception either of the magnificence -or of the horror of the scene—or of the wild bewildering sense of _the -novel_ which confounds the beholder. I am not sure from what point of -view the writer in question surveyed it, nor at what time; but it could -neither have been from the summit of Helseggen, nor during a storm. -There are some passages of his description, nevertheless, which may be -quoted for their details, although their effect is exceedingly feeble in -conveying an impression of the spectacle. - -“Between Lofoden and Moskoe,” he says, “the depth of the water is between -thirty-six and forty fathoms; but on the other side, toward Ver (Vurrgh), -this depth decreases so as not to afford a convenient passage for a -vessel, without the risk of splitting on the rocks, which happens even -in the calmest weather. When it is flood, the stream runs up the country -between Lofoden and Moskoe with a boisterous rapidity; but the roar of -its impetuous ebb to the sea is scarce equaled by the loudest and most -dreadful cataracts, the noise being heard several leagues off; and the -vortices or pits are of such an extent and depth, that if a ship comes -within its attraction, it is inevitably absorbed and carried down to the -bottom, and there beat to pieces against the rocks; and when the water -relaxes, the fragments thereof are thrown up again. But these intervals -of tranquillity are only at the turn of the ebb and flood, and in calm -weather, and last but a quarter of an hour, its violence gradually -returning. When the stream is most boisterous, and its fury heightened by -a storm, it is dangerous to come within a Norwegian mile of it. Boats, -yachts, and ships have been carried away by not guarding against it -before they were within its reach. It likewise happens frequently that -whales come too near the stream, and are overpowered by its violence; and -then it is impossible to describe their howlings and bellowings in their -fruitless struggles to disengage themselves. A bear once, attempting to -swim from Lofoden to Moskoe, was caught by the stream and borne down, -while he roared terribly, so as to be heard on shore. Large stocks of -firs and pine trees, after being absorbed by the current, rise again -broken and torn to such a degree as if bristles grew upon them. This -plainly shows the bottom to consist of craggy rocks, among which they are -whirled to and fro. This stream is regulated by the flux and reflux of -the sea—it being constantly high and low water every six hours. In the -year 1645, early in the morning of Sexagesima Sunday, it raged with such -noise and impetuosity that the very stones of the houses on the coast -fell to the ground.” - -In regard to the depth of the water, I could not see how this could have -been ascertained at all in the immediate vicinity of the vortex. The -“forty fathoms” must have reference only to portions of the channel close -upon the shore either of Moskoe or Lofoden. The depth in the center of -the Moskoe-strom must be immeasurably greater; and no better proof of -this fact is necessary than can be obtained from even the sidelong glance -into the abyss of the whirl which may be had from the highest crag of -Helseggen. Looking down from this pinnacle upon the howling Phlegethon -below, I could not help smiling at the simplicity with which the honest -Jonas Ramus records, as a matter difficult of belief, the anecdotes of -the whales and the bears; for it appeared to me, in fact, a self-evident -thing that the largest ships of the line in existence, coming within -the influence of that deadly attraction, could resist it as little as a -feather the hurricane, and must disappear bodily and at once. - -The attempts to account for the phenomenon—some of which, I remember, -seemed to me sufficiently plausible in perusal—now wore a very different -and unsatisfactory aspect. The idea generally received is that this, as -well as three smaller vortices among the Faroe Islands, “have no other -cause than the collision of waves rising and falling, at flux and reflux, -against a ridge of rocks and shelves, which confines the water so that -it precipitates itself like a cataract; and thus the higher the flood -rises, the deeper must the fall be, and the natural result of all is a -whirlpool or vortex, the prodigious suction of which is sufficiently -known by lesser experiments.”—These are the words of the _Encyclopedia -Britannica_. Kircher and others imagine that in the center of the channel -of the Maelstrom is an abyss penetrating the globe, and issuing in some -very remote part—the Gulf of Bothnia being somewhat decidedly named in -one instance. This opinion, idle in itself, was the one to which, as I -gazed, my imagination most readily assented; and, mentioning it to the -guide, I was rather surprised to hear him say that, although it was the -view almost universally entertained of the subject by the Norwegians, -it nevertheless was not his own. As to the former notion he confessed -his inability to comprehend it; and here I agreed with him—for, however -conclusive on paper, it becomes altogether unintelligible, and even -absurd, amid the thunder of the abyss. - - -THE GUIDE’S MARVELOUS TALE - -“You have had a good look at the whirl now,” said the old man, “and if -you will creep round this crag, so as to get in its lee, and deaden the -roar of the water, I will tell you a story that will convince you I ought -to know something of the Moskoe-strom.” - -I placed myself as desired, and he proceeded. - -“Myself and my two brothers once owned a schooner-rigged smack of about -seventy tons burden, with which we were in the habit of fishing among -the islands beyond Moskoe, nearly to Vurrgh. In all violent eddies at -sea there is good fishing, at proper opportunities, if one has only the -courage to attempt it; but among the whole of the Lofoden coastmen we -three were the only ones who made a regular business of going out to the -islands, as I tell you. The usual grounds are a great way lower down to -the southward. There fish can be got at all hours, without much risk, -and therefore these places are preferred. The choice spots over here -among the rocks, however, not only yield the finest variety, but in far -greater abundance; so that we often got in a single day what the more -timid of the craft could not scrape together in a week. In fact, we made -it a matter of desperate speculation—the risk of life standing instead of -labor, and courage answering for capital. - -“We kept the smack in a cove about five miles higher up the coast than -this; and it was our practice, in fine weather, to take advantage of -the fifteen minutes’ slack to push across the main channel of the -Moskoe-strom, far above the pool, and then drop down upon anchorage -somewhere near Otterholm, or Sandflesen, where the eddies are not so -violent as elsewhere. Here we used to remain until nearly time for slack -water again, when we weighed and made for home. We never set out upon -this expedition without a steady side wind for going and coming—one that -we felt sure would not fail us before our return—and we seldom made a -miscalculation upon this point. Twice, during six years, we were forced -to stay all night at anchor on account of a dead calm, which is a rare -thing indeed just about here; and once we had to remain on the ground -nearly a week, starving to death, owing to a gale which blew up shortly -after our arrival, and made the channel too boisterous to be thought -of. Upon this occasion we should have been driven out to sea in spite -of everything (for the whirlpools threw us round and round so violently -that, at length, we fouled our anchor and dragged it) if it had not been -that we drifted into one of the innumerable cross currents—here today -and gone tomorrow—which drove us under the lee of Flimen, where, by good -luck, we brought up. - -“I could not tell you the twentieth part of the difficulties we -encountered ‘on the ground’—it is a bad spot to be in, even in good -weather—but we made shift always to run the gauntlet of the Moskoe-strom -itself without accident; although at times my heart has been in my mouth -when we happened to be a minute or so behind or before the slack. The -wind sometimes was not as strong as we thought it at starting, and then -we made rather less way than we could wish, while the current rendered -the smack unmanageable. My eldest brother had a son eighteen years old, -and I had two stout boys of my own. These would have been of great -assistance at such times, in using the sweeps, as well as afterward in -fishing—but, somehow, although we ran the risk ourselves, we had not the -heart to let the young ones get into the danger—for, after all said and -done, it _was_ a horrible danger, and that is the truth. - -“It is now within a few days of three years since what I am going to tell -you occurred. It was on the tenth of July, 18—, a day which the people of -this part of the world will never forget—for it was one in which blew the -most terrible hurricane that ever came out of the heavens. And yet all -the morning, and indeed until late in the afternoon, there was a gentle -and steady breeze from the southwest, while the sun shone brightly, so -that the oldest seaman among us could not have foreseen what was to -follow. - -“The three of us—my two brothers and myself—had crossed over to the -islands about two o’clock P.M., and soon nearly loaded the smack with -fine fish, which, we all remarked, were more plenty that day than we had -ever known them. It was just seven, _by my watch_, when we weighed and -started for home, so as to make the worst of the Strom at slack water, -which we knew would be at eight. - -“We set out with a fresh wind on our starboard quarter, and for some time -spanked along at a great rate, never dreaming of danger, for indeed we -saw not the slightest reason to apprehend it. All at once we were taken -aback by a breeze from over Helseggen. This was most unusual—something -that had never happened to us before—and I began to feel a little uneasy, -without exactly knowing why: We put the boat on the wind, but could make -no headway at all for the eddies, and I was upon the point of proposing -to return to the anchorage, when, looking astern, we saw the whole -horizon covered with a singular copper-covered cloud that rose with the -most amazing velocity. - -“In the meantime the breeze that had headed us off fell away, and we were -dead becalmed, drifting about in every direction. This state of things, -however, did not last long enough to give us time to think about it. In -less than a minute the storm was upon us—in less than two the sky was -entirely overcast—and what with this and the driving spray, it became -suddenly so dark that we could not see each other in the smack. - -“Such a hurricane as then blew it is folly to attempt describing. The -oldest seaman in Norway never experienced anything like it. We had let -our sails go by the run before it cleverly took us; but, at the first -puff, both our masts went by the board as if they had been sawed off—the -mainmast taking with it my youngest brother, who had lashed himself to it -for safety. - -“Our boat was the lightest feather of a thing that ever sat so upon -water. It had a complete flush deck, with only a small hatch near the -bow, and this hatch it had always been our custom to batten down when -about to cross the Strom, by way of precaution against the chopping -seas. But for this circumstance we should have foundered at once—for -we lay entirely buried for some moments. How my elder brother escaped -destruction I cannot say, for I never had an opportunity of ascertaining. -For my part, as soon as I had let the foresail run, I threw myself flat -on deck, with my feet against the narrow gunwale of the bow, and with -my hands grasping a ringbolt near the foot of the foremast. It was mere -instinct that prompted me to do this—which was undoubtedly the very best -thing I could have done—for I was too much flurried to think. - - -SWEPT INTO THE MAELSTROM - -“For some moments we were completely deluged, as I say, and all this time -I held my breath, and clung to the bolt. When I could stand it no longer -I raised myself upon my knees, still keeping hold with my hands, and thus -got my head clear. Presently our little boat gave herself a shake, just -as a dog does in coming out of the water, and thus rid herself, in some -measure, of the seas. I was now trying to get the better of the stupor -that had come over me, and to collect my senses so as to see what was to -be done, when I felt somebody grasp my arm. It was my elder brother, and -my heart leaped for joy, for I had made sure that he was overboard—but -the next moment all this joy was turned into horror—for he put his mouth -close to my ear, and screamed out the word ‘_Moskoe-strom!_’ - -“No one will ever know what my feelings were at that moment. I shook from -head to foot as if I had had the most violent fit of the ague. I knew -what he meant by that one word well enough—I knew what he wished to make -me understand. With the wind that now drove us on, we were bound for the -whirl of the Strom, and nothing could save us! - -“You perceive that in crossing the Strom _channel_, we always went a long -way up above the whirl, even in the calmest weather, and then had to wait -and watch carefully for the slack—but now we were driving right upon the -pool itself, and in such a hurricane as this! ‘To be sure,’ I thought, -‘we shall get there just about the slack—there is some little hope in -that’—but in the next moment I cursed myself for being so great a fool -as to dream of hope at all. I knew very well that we were doomed, had we -been ten times a ninety-gun ship. - -“By this time the first fury of the tempest had spent itself, or perhaps -we did not feel it so much as we scudded before it; but at all events -the seas, which at first had been kept down by the wind, and lay flat and -frothing, now got up into absolute mountains. A singular change, too, -had come over the heavens. Around in every direction it was still black -as pitch, but nearly overhead there burst out, all at once, a circular -rift of clear sky—as clear as I ever saw—and of a deep bright blue—and -through it there blazed forth the full moon with a luster that I never -before knew her to wear. She lit up everything about us with the greatest -distinctness—but, oh, God, what a scene it was to light up! - -“I now made one or two attempts to speak to my brother—but, in some -manner which I could not understand, the din had so increased that I -could not make him hear a single word, although I screamed at the top -of my voice in his ear. Presently he shook his head, looking as pale as -death, and held up one of his fingers, as if to say _listen_! - -“At first I could not make out what he meant—but soon a hideous thought -flashed upon me. I dragged my watch from its fob. It was not going. I -glanced at its face by the moonlight, and then burst into tears as I -flung it far away into the ocean. _It had run down at seven o’clock! We -were behind the time of the slack, and the whirl of the Strom was in full -fury!_ - -“When a boat is well built, properly trimmed, and not deep laden, the -waves in a strong gale, when she is going large, seem always to slip from -beneath her—which appears very strange to a landsman—and this is what is -called _riding_, in sea phrase. - -“Well, so far we had ridden the swells very cleverly; but presently a -gigantic sea happened to take us right under the counter, and bore us -with it as it rose—up—up—as if into the sky. I would not have believed -that any wave could rise so high. And then down we came with a sweep, -a slide, and a plunge, that made me feel sick and dizzy, as if I was -falling from some lofty mountain-top in a dream. But while we were up I -had thrown a quick glance around—and that one glance was all-sufficient. -I saw our exact position in an instant. The Moskoe-strom whirlpool was -about a quarter of a mile dead ahead—but no more like the everyday -Moskoe-strom than the whirl as you now see it is like a mill-race. If I -had not known where we were, and what we had to expect, I should not have -recognized the place at all. As it was, I involuntarily closed my eyes in -horror. The lids clenched themselves together as if in a spasm. - -“It could not have been more than two minutes afterwards until we -suddenly felt the waves subside, and were enveloped in foam. The boat -made a sharp half turn to larboard, and then shot off in its new -direction like a thunderbolt. At the same moment the roaring noise of -the water was completely drowned in a kind of shrill shriek—such a sound -as you might imagine given out by the water-pipes of many thousand steam -vessels, letting off their steam all together. We were now in the belt -of surf that always surrounds the whirl; and I thought, of course, that -another moment would plunge us into the abyss—down which we could only -see indistinctly on account of the amazing velocity with which we were -borne along. The boat did not seem to sink into the water at all, but to -skim like an air-bubble upon the surface of the surge. Her starboard side -was next the whirl, and on the larboard arose the world of ocean we had -left. It stood like a huge, writhing wall between us and the horizon. - -“It may appear strange, but now, when we were in the very jaws of the -gulf, I felt more composed than when we were only approaching it. Having -made up my mind to hope no more, I got rid of a great deal of that terror -which unmanned me at first. I suppose it was despair that strung my -nerves. - -“It may look like boasting—but what I tell you is truth—I began to -reflect how magnificent a thing it was to die in such a manner, and how -foolish it was in me to think of so paltry a consideration as my own -individual life, in view of so wonderful a manifestation of God’s power. -I do believe that I blushed with shame when this idea crossed my mind. -After a little while I became possessed with the keenest curiosity about -the whirl itself. I positively felt a _wish_ to explore its depths, even -at the sacrifice I was going to make; and my principal grief was that -I should never be able to tell my old companions on shore about the -mysteries I should see. These, no doubt, were singular fancies to occupy -a man’s mind in such extremity—and I have often thought since, that the -revolutions of the boat around the pool might have rendered me a little -light-headed. - -“There was another circumstance which tended to restore my -self-possession; and this was the cessation of the wind, which could -not reach us in our present situation—for, as you saw yourself, the -belt of surf is considerably lower than the general bed of the ocean, -and this latter now towered above us, a high, black, mountainous ridge. -If you have never been at sea in a heavy gale, you can form no idea of -the confusion of mind occasioned by the wind and spray together. They -blind, deafen, and strangle you, and take away all power of action -or reflection. But we were now, in a great measure, rid of these -annoyances—just as death-condemned felons in prisons are allowed petty -indulgences forbidden them while their doom is yet uncertain. - -“How often we made the circuit of the belt it is impossible to say. -We careered round and round for perhaps an hour, flying rather than -floating, getting gradually more and more into the middle of the surge, -and then nearer and nearer to its horrible inner edge. All this time I -had never let go of the ringbolt. My brother was at the stern, holding on -to a small empty water-cask which had been securely lashed under the coop -of the counter, and was the only thing on deck that had not been swept -overboard when the gale first took us. As we approached the brink of the -pit he let go his hold upon this, and made for the ring, from which, in -the agony of his terror, he endeavored to force my hands, as it was not -large enough to afford us both a secure grasp. I never felt deeper grief -than when I saw him attempt this act—although I knew he was a madman when -he did it—a raving maniac through sheer fright. I did not care, however, -to contest the point with him. I knew it could make no difference whether -either of us held on at all; so I let him have the bolt, and went astern -to the cask. This there was no great difficulty in doing; for the smack -flew round steadily enough, and upon an even keel—only swaying to and -fro, with the immense sweeps and swelters of the whirl. Scarcely had -I secured myself in my new position, when we gave a wild lurch to -starboard, and rushed headlong into the abyss. I muttered a hurried -prayer to God, and thought all was over. - -“As I felt the sickening sweep of the descent, I had instinctively -tightened my hold upon the barrel, and closed my eyes. For some seconds -I dared not open them—while I expected instant destruction, and wondered -that I was not already in my death-struggles with the water. But moment -after moment elapsed. I still lived. The sense of falling had ceased; -and the motion of the vessel seemed much as it had been before, while in -the belt of foam, with the exception that she now lay more along. I took -courage and looked once again upon the scene. - -“Never shall I forget the sensations of awe, horror, and admiration with -which I gazed about me. The boat appeared to be hanging, as if by magic, -midway down, upon the interior surface of a funnel vast in circumference, -prodigious in depth, and whose perfectly smooth sides might have been -mistaken for ebony, but for the bewildering rapidity with which they spun -around, and for the gleaming and ghastly radiance they shot forth, as -the rays of the full moon, from that circular rift amid the clouds which -I have already described, streamed in a flood of golden glory along the -black walls, and far away down into the inmost recesses of the abyss. - -“At first I was too much confused to observe anything accurately. -The general burst of terrific grandeur was all that I beheld. When I -recovered myself a little, however, my gaze fell instinctively downward. -In this direction I was able to obtain an unobstructed view, from the -manner in which the smack hung on the inclined surface of the pool. She -was quite upon an even keel—that is to say, her deck lay in a plane -parallel with that of the water—but this latter sloped at an angle of -more than forty-five degrees, so that we seemed to be lying upon our -beam-ends. I could not help observing, nevertheless, that I had scarcely -more difficulty in maintaining my hold and footing in this situation, -than if we had been upon a dead level; and this, I suppose, was owing to -the speed at which we revolved. - -“The rays of the moon seemed to search the very bottom of the profound -gulf; but still I could make out nothing distinctly, on account of a -thick mist in which everything there was enveloped, and over which there -hung a magnificent rainbow, like that narrow and tottering bridge which -Mussulmans say is the only pathway between Time and Eternity. This mist, -or spray, was no doubt occasioned by the clashing of the great walls of -the funnel, as they all met together at the bottom—but the yell that went -up to the heavens from out of that mist, I dare not attempt to describe. - -“Our first slide into the abyss itself, from the belt of foam above, -had carried us to a great distance down the slope; but our farther -descent was by no means proportionate. Round and round we swept—not with -any uniform movement, but in dizzying swings and jerks, that sent us -sometimes only a few hundred yards—sometimes nearly the complete circuit -of the whirl. Our progress downward, at each revolution, was slow, but -very perceptible. - - -THE MARVELOUS ESCAPE - -“Looking about me upon the wide waste of liquid ebony on which we were -thus borne, I perceived that our boat was not the only object in the -embrace of the whirl. Both above and below us were visible fragments -of vessels, large masses of building timber and trunks of trees, with -many smaller articles, such as pieces of house furniture, broken boxes, -barrels, and staves. I have already described the unnatural curiosity -which had taken the place of my original terrors. It appeared to grow -upon me as I drew nearer and nearer to my dreadful doom. I now began -to watch, with a strange interest, the numerous things that floated in -our company. I _must_ have been delirious—for I even sought _amusement_ -in speculating upon the relative velocities of their several descents -toward the foam below. ‘This fir tree,’ I found myself at one time -saying, ‘will certainly be the next thing that takes the awful plunge -and disappears,’—and then I was disappointed to find that the wreck of a -Dutch merchant ship overtook it and went down before. At length, after -making several guesses of this nature, and being deceived in all—this -fact—the fact of my invariable miscalculation, set me upon a train of -reflection that made my limbs again tremble, and my heart beat heavily -once more. - -“It was not a new terror that thus affected me, but the dawn of a more -exciting _hope_. This hope arose partly from memory, and partly from -present observation. I called to mind the great variety of buoyant matter -that strewed the coast of Lofoden, having been absorbed and then thrown -forth by the Moskoe-strom. By far the greater number of the articles -were shattered in the most extraordinary way—so chafed and roughened -as to have the appearance of being stuck full of splinters—but then I -distinctly recollected that there were _some_ of them which were not -disfigured at all. Now I could not account for this difference except by -supposing that the roughened fragments were the only ones which had been -_completely absorbed_—that the others had entered the whirl at so late a -period of the tide, or, from some reason, had descended so slowly after -entering, that they did not reach the bottom before the turn of the flood -came, or of the ebb, as the case might be. I conceived it possible, in -either instance, that they might thus be whirled up again to the level -of the ocean, without undergoing the fate of those which had been drawn -in more early or absorbed more rapidly. I made, also, three important -observations. The first was, that as a general rule, the larger the -bodies were, the more rapid their descent; the second, that, between two -masses of equal extent, the one spherical, and the other _of any other -shape_, the superiority in speed of descent was with the sphere; the -third, that, between two masses of equal size, the one cylindrical, and -the other of any other shape, the cylinder was absorbed the more slowly. -Since my escape, I have had several conversations on this subject with -an old schoolmaster of the district; and it was from him that I learned -the use of the words ‘cylinder’ and ‘sphere.’ He explained to me—although -I have forgotten the explanation—how what I observed was, in fact, the -natural consequence of the forms of the floating fragments, and showed -me how it happened that a cylinder, swimming in a vortex, offered more -resistance to its suction, and was drawn in with greater difficulty, than -an equally bulky body, of any form whatever. - -“There was one startling circumstance which went a great way in enforcing -these observations, and rendering me anxious to turn them to account, and -this was that, at every revolution, we passed something like a barrel, -or else the yard or mast of a vessel, while many of these things, which -had been on our level when I first opened my eyes upon the wonders of the -whirlpool, were now high up above us, and seemed to have moved but little -from their original station. - -“I no longer hesitated what to do. I resolved to lash myself securely to -the water cask upon which I now held, to cut it loose from the counter, -and to throw myself with it into the water. I attracted my brother’s -attention to signs, pointed to the floating barrels that came near us, -and did everything in my power to make him understand what I was about -to do. I thought at length that he comprehended my design—but, whether -this was the case or not, he shook his head despairingly, and refused to -move from his station by the ringbolt. It was impossible to reach him; -the emergency admitted of no delay; and so, with a bitter struggle, I -resigned him to his fate, fastened myself to the cask by means of the -lashings which secured it to the counter, and precipitated myself with it -into the sea, without another moment’s hesitation. - -“The result was precisely what I had hoped it might be. As it is myself -who now tells you this tale—as you see that I _did_ escape—and as you are -already in possession of the mode in which this escape was effected, and -must therefore anticipate all that I have further to say—I will bring my -story quickly to conclusion. It might have been an hour, or thereabout, -after my quitting the smack, when, having descended to a vast distance -beneath me, it made three or four wild gyrations in rapid succession, -and, bearing my loved brother with it, plunged headlong, at once and -forever, into the chaos of foam below. The barrel to which I was attached -sunk very little farther than half the distance between the bottom of -the gulf and the spot at which I leaped overboard, before a great change -took place in the character of the whirlpool. The slope of the sides of -the vast funnel became momently less and less steep. The gyrations of -the whirl grew, gradually, less and less violent. By degrees, the froth -and the rainbow disappeared, and the bottom of the gulf seemed slowly to -uprise. The sky was clear, the winds had gone down, and the full moon -was setting radiantly in the west, when I found myself on the surface -of the ocean, in full view of the shores of Lofoden, and above the spot -where the pool of the Moskoe-strom _had been_. It was the hour of the -slack; but the sea still heaved in mountainous waves from the effects of -the hurricane. I was borne violently into the channel of the strom, and -in a few minutes was hurried down the coast into the ‘grounds’ of the -fishermen. A boat picked me up—exhausted from fatigue—and (now that the -danger was removed) speechless from the memory of its horror. Those who -drew me on board were my old mates and daily companions, but they knew me -no more than they would have known a traveler from the spirit-land. My -hair, which had been raven-black the day before, was as white as you see -it now. They say, too, that the whole expression of my countenance had -changed. I told them my story—they did not believe it. I now tell it to -you—and I can scarcely expect you to put more faith in it than did the -merry fishermen of Lofoden.” - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849) was the greatest poet and - short story writer the South has produced. His parents belonged - by profession to the stage; his mother was English and his father - American by birth. Born in Boston, he was left an orphan at an early - age, and was adopted by a Mr. Allan, a wealthy citizen of Richmond, - Virginia. Poe was sent to school in London, and later he attended the - University of Virginia, and the military academy at West Point. Mr. - Allan lavished money and other inducements upon him in vain efforts - to get him to settle down to a permanent profession, but finally - abandoned him to his own resources. From that time on, Poe eked out a - living by publishing poems and tales, by contributions to newspapers - and magazines, and by editorial work. But he was too erratic in his - habits to retain long either positions or friends. His writings, - like his character, were weird, mysterious, haunted by brooding - melancholy. But his poetry is perhaps the most purely musical of any - in our language—for Poe believed that poetry should be the language - of the feelings rather than of thought, and that it should therefore - seek to produce its effects through “harmony of sweet sounds” rather - than through the meaning of its lines. His prose tales of mystery - and adventure are remarkable for their imaginative and poetic style; - they have served as models for many well known writers. Poe was the - originator of the modern short story. - - Poe’s erratic, troubled life ended at Baltimore, in 1849, in the - fortieth year of his age. The pathos of it is well summed up in the - inscription on a memorial tablet erected to him in the New York - Museum of Art: “He was great in his genius, unhappy in his life, - wretched in his death, but in his fame, immortal.” - - =Discussion.= 1. Locate the scene of this story on a map. 2. Read - from the dictionary and encyclopedia to learn about whirlpools. 3. - What do you learn from Jonas Ramus’s description of the whirlpool? - 4. How does the _Encyclopedia Britannica_ account for the vortex? 5. - What was the theory of Kircher? 6. How does the hero account for his - apparent age? 7. Relate briefly in your own words the hero’s story - of his experience in the maelstrom. 8. What tempted him to brave the - dangers of the whirlpool? 9. Account for his miscalculation of the - time of the slack. 10. What three observations did the hero make - while descending into the maelstrom? 11. How did he make his escape? - 12. How does Poe try to give an idea of the noise of the whirlpool? - 13. How does it differ from Hawthorne’s description of the roar of - Niagara? (See page 466.) 14. How had the “ordinary accounts of the - vortex” prepared Poe to see it? 15. In what were these accounts of - the vortex inadequate? 16. Compare this with Hawthorne’s statement - concerning what he had read of Niagara. 17. From this story what do - you think of Poe’s powers of imagination and description? 18. What - other authors have you read that have similar powers? 19. Point - out descriptions in this selection that you particularly like. 20. - Pronounce the following: ungovernable; maelstrom; vortices; herbage; - gauntlet; ague; buoyant. - - =Phrases= - - sheer unobstructed precipice, 192, 4 - particularizing manner, 192, 18 - deplorably desolate, 192, 29 - precipitous descents, 194, 3 - gleaming spray, 194, 15 - terrific funnel, 194, 16 - boisterous rapidity, 195, 10 - fruitless struggles, 195, 26 - flux and reflux, 195, 33 - immediate vicinity, 196, 2 - abyss of the whirl, 196, 8 - plausible in perusal, 196, 18 - collision of waves, 196, 21 - desperate speculation, 197, 22 - flood of golden glory, 204, 20 - terrific grandeur, 204, 24 - wide waste of liquid ebony, 205, 17 - the gyrations of the whirl, 207, 37 - - -THE WRECK OF THE GOLDEN MARY - -CHARLES DICKENS - - -CHAPTER I—THE WRECK - -RAVENDER TAKES COMMAND OF THE GOLDEN MARY - -I was apprenticed to the Sea when I was twelve years old, and I have -encountered a great deal of rough weather, both literal and metaphorical. -It has always been my opinion since I first possessed such a thing as -an opinion, that the man who knows only one subject is next tiresome to -the man who knows no subject. Therefore, in the course of my life I have -taught myself whatever I could, and although I am not an educated man, I -am able, I am thankful to say, to have an intelligent interest in most -things. - -A person might suppose, from reading the above, that I am in the habit -of holding forth about number one. That is not the case. Just as if I -were to come into a room among strangers, and must either be introduced -or introduce myself, so I have taken the liberty of passing these few -remarks, simply and plainly that it may be known who and what I am. -I will add no more of the sort than that my name is William George -Ravender, that I was born at Penrith half a year after my own father -was drowned, and that I am on the second day of this present blessed -Christmas week of one thousand eight hundred and fifty-six, fifty-six -years of age. - -When the rumor first went flying up and down that there was gold in -California—which, as most people know, was before it was discovered -in the British colony of Australia—I was in the West Indies, trading -among the Islands. Being in command and likewise part-owner of a smart -schooner, I had my work cut out for me, and I was doing it. Consequently, -gold in California was no business of mine. - -But, by the time when I came home to England again, the thing was as -clear as your hand held up before you at noon-day. There was Californian -gold in the museums and in the goldsmiths’ shops, and the very first -time I went upon ’Change, I met a friend of mine (a seafaring man like -myself), with a Californian nugget hanging to his watch-chain. I handled -it. It was as like a peeled walnut with bits unevenly broken off here and -there, and then electrotyped all over, as ever I saw anything in my life. - -I am a single man (she was too good for this world and for me, and she -died six weeks before our marriage-day), so when I am ashore, I live -in my house at Poplar. My house at Poplar is taken care of and kept -ship-shape by an old lady who was my mother’s maid before I was born. She -is as handsome and as upright as any old lady in the world. She is as -fond of me as if she had ever had an only son, and I were he. Well do I -know wherever I sail that she never lays down her head at night without -having said, “Merciful Lord! bless and preserve William George Ravender, -and send him safe home, through Christ our Savior!” I have thought of it -in many a dangerous moment, when it has done me no harm, I am sure. - -In my house at Poplar, along with this old lady, I lived quiet for the -best part of a year, having had a long spell of it among the Islands, -and having (which was very uncommon in me) taken the fever rather badly. -At last, being strong and hearty, and having read every book I could lay -hold of right out, I was walking down Leadenhall Street in the City of -London, thinking of turning-to again, when I met what I call Smithick and -Watersby of Liverpool. I chanced to lift up my eyes from looking in at a -ship’s chronometer in a window, and I saw him bearing down upon me, head -on. - -It is, personally, neither Smithick, nor Watersby, that I here mention, -nor was I ever acquainted with any man of either of those names, nor do -I think that there has been any one of either of those names in that -Liverpool House for years back. But, it is in reality the House itself -that I refer to; and a wiser merchant or a truer gentleman never stepped. - -“My dear Captain Ravender,” says he. “Of all the men on earth, I wanted -to see you most. I was on my way to you.” - -“Well!” says I. “That looks as if you _were_ to see me, don’t it?” With -that I put my arm in his, and we walked on toward the Royal Exchange, -and when we got there, walked up and down at the back of it where the -Clock-Tower is. We walked an hour and more, for he had much to say to me. -He had a scheme for chartering a new ship of their own to take out cargo -to the diggers and emigrants in California, and to buy and bring back -gold. Into the particulars of that scheme I will not enter, and I have no -right to enter. All I say of it is, that it was a very original one, a -very fine one, a very sound one, and a very lucrative one beyond doubt. - -He imparted it to me as freely as if I had been a part of himself. After -doing so, he made me the handsomest sharing offer that ever was made to -me, boy or man—or I believe to any other captain in the Merchant Navy—and -he took this round turn to finish with: - -“Ravender, you are well aware that the lawlessness of that coast and -country at present is as special as the circumstances in which it is -placed. Crews of vessels outward bound desert as soon as they make the -land; crews of vessels homeward bound, ship at enormous wages, with the -express intention of murdering the captain and seizing the gold freight; -no man can trust another, and the devil seems let loose. Now,” says he, -“you know my opinion of you, and you know I am only expressing it, and -with no singularity, when I tell you that you are almost the only man on -whose integrity, discretion, and energy—” etc., etc. For I don’t want to -repeat what he said, though I was and am sensible of it. - -Notwithstanding my being, as I have mentioned, quite ready for a voyage, -still I had some doubts of this voyage. Of course I knew, without being -told, that there were peculiar difficulties and dangers in it, a long way -over and above those which attend all voyages. It must not be supposed -that I was afraid to face them; but, in my opinion a man has no manly -motive or sustainment in his own breast for facing dangers, unless he has -well considered what they are, and is quietly able to say to himself, -“None of these perils can now take me by surprise; I shall know what -to do for the best in any of them; all the rest lies in the higher and -greater hands to which I humbly commit myself.” On this principle I have -so attentively considered (regarding it as my duty) all the hazards I -have ever been able to think of, in the ordinary way of storm, shipwreck, -and fire at sea, that I hope I should be prepared to do in any of those -cases whatever could be done, to save the lives entrusted to my charge. - -As I was thoughtful, my good friend proposed that he should leave me to -walk there as long as I liked, and that I should dine with him by-and-by -at his club in Pall Mall. I accepted the invitation and I walked up and -down there, quarter-deck fashion, a matter of a couple of hours; now and -then looking up at the weathercock as I might have looked up aloft; and -now and then taking a look into Cornhill, as I might have taken a look -over the side. - -All dinner-time, and all after dinner-time, we talked it over again. I -gave him my views of his plan, and he very much approved of the same. -I told him I had nearly decided, but not quite. “Well, well,” says he, -“come down to Liverpool tomorrow with me, and see the Golden Mary.” I -liked the name (her name was Mary, and she was golden, if golden stands -for good), so I began to feel that it was almost done when I said I -would go to Liverpool. On the next morning but one we were on board the -Golden Mary. I might have known, from his asking me to come down and see -her, what she was. I declare her to have been the completest and most -exquisite Beauty that ever I set my eyes upon. - -We had inspected every timber in her, and had come back to the gangway -to go ashore from the dock-basin, when I put out my hand to my friend. -“Touch upon it,” says I, “and touch heartily. I take command of this ship -and I am hers and yours, if I can get John Steadiman for my chief mate.” - -John Steadiman had sailed with me four voyages. The first voyage John was -third mate out to China, and came home second. The other three voyages he -was my first officer. At this time of chartering the Golden Mary, he was -aged thirty-two. A brisk, bright, blue-eyed fellow, a very neat figure -and rather under the middle size, never out of the way and never in it, -a face that pleased everybody and that all children took to, a habit of -going about singing as cheerily as a blackbird, and a perfect sailor. - -We were in one of those Liverpool hackney-coaches in less than a minute, -and we cruised about in her upwards of three hours, looking for John. -John had come home from Van Diemen’s Land barely a month before, and I -had heard of him as taking a frisk in Liverpool. We asked after him, -among many other places, at the two boarding-houses he was fondest -of, and we found he had had a week’s spell at each of them; but, he -had gone here and gone there, and had set off “to lay out on the -main-to’-gallant-yard of the highest Welsh mountain” (so he had told the -people of the house), and where he might be then, or when he might come -back nobody could tell us. But it was surprising, to be sure, to see how -every face brightened the moment there was mention made of the name of -Mr. Steadiman. - -We were taken aback at meeting with no better luck, and we had wore ship -and put her head for my friend’s, when as we were jogging through the -streets, I clap my eyes on John himself coming out of a toy-shop! He was -carrying a little boy, and conducting two uncommon pretty women to their -coach, and he told me afterwards that he had never in his life seen one -of the three before, but that he was so taken with them on looking in -at the toy-shop while they were buying the child a cranky Noah’s Ark, -very much down by the head, that he had gone in and asked the ladies’ -permission to treat him to a tolerably correct Cutter there was in the -window, in order that such a handsome boy might not grow up with a -lubberly idea of naval architecture. - -We stood off and on until the ladies’ coachman began to give way, and -then we hailed John. On his coming aboard of us, I told him, very -gravely, what I had said to my friend. It struck him, as he said himself, -amidships. He was quite shaken by it. “Captain Ravender,” were John -Steadiman’s words, “such an opinion from you is true commendation, and -I’ll sail around the world with you for twenty years if you hoist the -signal, and stand by you for ever!” And now indeed I felt that it was -done, and that the Golden Mary was afloat. - -Grass never grew yet under the feet of Smithick and Watersby. The riggers -were out of that ship in a fortnight’s time, and we had begun taking in -cargo. John was always aboard, seeing everything stowed with his own -eyes; and whenever I went aboard myself early or late, whether he was -below in the hold, or on deck at the hatchway, or overhauling his cabin, -nailing up pictures in it of the Blush Roses of England, the Blue Belles -of Scotland, and the female Shamrock of Ireland, of a certainty I heard -John singing like a blackbird. - - -THE START FOR CALIFORNIA - -We had room for twenty passengers. Our sailing advertisement was no -sooner out, than we might have taken these twenty times over. In entering -our men, I and John (both together) picked them, and we entered none but -good hands—as good as were to be found in that port. And so, in a good -ship of the best build, well owned, well arranged, well officered, well -manned, well found in all respects, we parted with our pilot at a quarter -past four o’clock in the afternoon of the seventh of March, one thousand -eight hundred and fifty-one, and stood with a fair wind out to sea. - -It may be easily believed that up to that time I had had no leisure to be -intimate with my passengers. The most of them were then in their berths -seasick; however, in going among them, telling them what was good for -them, persuading them not to be there, but to come up on deck and feel -the breeze, and in rousing them with a joke, or a comfortable word, I -made acquaintance with them, perhaps, in a more friendly and confidential -way from the first, than I might have done at the cabin table. - -Of my passengers, I need only particularize, just at present, a -bright-eyed blooming young wife who was going out to join her husband in -California, taking with her their only child, a little girl three years -old, whom he had never seen; a sedate young woman in black, some five -years older (about thirty as I should say), who was going out to join a -brother; and an old gentleman, a good deal like a hawk if his eyes had -been better and not so red, who was always talking, morning, noon, and -night, about the gold discovery. But, whether he was making the voyage, -thinking his old arms could dig for gold, or whether his speculation -was to buy it, or to barter for it, or to cheat for it, or to snatch it -anyhow from other people, was his secret. He kept his secret. - -These three and the child were the soonest well. The child was a most -engaging child, to be sure, and very fond of me; though I am bound to -admit that John Steadiman and I were borne on her pretty little books -in reverse order, and that he was captain there, and I was mate. It was -beautiful to watch her with John, and it was beautiful to watch John -with her. Few would have thought it possible, to see John playing at -Bo-peep round the mast, that he was the man who had caught up an iron bar -and struck a Malay and a Maltese dead, as they were gliding with their -knives down the cabin stair aboard the bark Old England, when the captain -lay ill in his cot, off Sauger Point. But he was; and give him his back -against a bulwark, he would have done the same by half a dozen of them. -The name of the young mother was Mrs. Atherfield, the name of the young -lady in black was Miss Coleshaw, and the name of the old gentleman was -Mr. Rarx. - -As the child had a quantity of shining fair hair, clustering in curls all -around her face, and as her name was Lucy, Steadiman gave her the name -of Golden Lucy. So, we had the Golden Lucy and the Golden Mary; and John -kept up the idea to that extent as he and the child went playing about -the decks, that I believe she used to think the ship was alive somehow—a -sister or companion, going to the same place as herself. She liked to -be by the wheel, and in fine weather, I have often stood by the man -whose trick it was at the wheel, only to hear her, sitting near my feet, -talking to the ship. Never had a child such a doll before, I suppose; but -she made a doll of the Golden Mary, and used to dress her up by tying -ribbons and little bits of finery to the belaying pins; and nobody ever -moved them, unless it was to save them from being blown away. - -Of course I took charge of the two young women, and I called them “my -dear,” and they never minded, knowing that whatever I said was said in a -fatherly and protecting spirit. I gave them their places on each side of -me at dinner, Mrs. Atherfield on my right and Miss Coleshaw on my left; -and I directed the unmarried lady to serve out the breakfast, and the -married lady to serve out the tea. Likewise I said to my black steward in -their presence, “Tom Snow, these two ladies are equally the mistresses of -this house, and do you obey their orders equally”; at which Tom laughed, -and they all laughed. - -Old Mr. Rarx was not a pleasant man to look at, nor yet to talk to, or to -be with, for no one could help seeing that he was a sordid and selfish -character, and that he had warped further and further out of the straight -with time. Not but what he was on his best behavior with us, as everybody -was; for we had no bickering among us, for’ard or aft. I only mean to -say, he was not the man one would have chosen for a messmate. If choice -there had been, one might even have gone a few points out of one’s course -to say, “No! Not him!” But, there was one curious inconsistency in Mr. -Rarx. That was, that he took an astonishing interest in the child. He -looked, and I may add, he was, one of the last men to care at all for a -child, or care much for any human creature. Still, he went so far as to -be habitually uneasy, if the child was long on deck, out of his sight. He -was always afraid of her falling overboard, or falling down a hatchway, -or of a block or what not coming down upon her from the rigging in the -working of the ship, or of her getting some hurt or other. He used to -look at her and touch her, as if she was something precious to him. He -was always solicitous about her not injuring her health, and constantly -entreated her mother to be careful of it. This was so much the more -curious, because the child did not like him, but used to shrink away from -him, and would not even put out her hand to him without coaxing from -others. I believe that every soul on board frequently noticed this, and -not one of us understood it. However, it was such a plain fact, that John -Steadiman said more than once when old Mr. Rarx was not within earshot, -that if the Golden Mary felt a tenderness for the dear old gentleman she -carried in her lap, she must be bitterly jealous of the Golden Lucy. - -Before I go any further with this narrative, I will state that our ship -was a bark of three hundred tons, carrying a crew of eighteen men, a -second mate in addition to John, a carpenter, an armorer or smith, and -two apprentices (one a Scotch boy, poor little fellow). We had three -boats; the Long-boat, capable of carrying twenty-five men; the Cutter, -capable of carrying fifteen; and the Surf-boat, capable of carrying ten. -I put down the capacity of these boats according to the numbers they were -really meant to hold. - -We had tastes of bad weather and head-winds, of course; but, on the -whole, we had as fine a run as any reasonable man could expect, for sixty -days. I then began to enter two remarks in the ship’s Log and in my -Journal; first, that there was an unusual and amazing quantity of ice; -second, that the nights were most wonderfully dark in spite of the ice. - -For five days and a half, it seemed quite useless and hopeless to alter -the ship’s course so as to stand out of the way of this ice. I made -what southing I could; but, all that time, we were beset by it. Mrs. -Atherfield, after standing by me on deck once, looking for some time in -an awed manner at the great bergs that surrounded us, said in a whisper, -“Oh! Captain Ravender, it looks as if the whole solid earth had changed -into ice, and broken up!” I said to her, laughing, “I don’t wonder that -it does, to your inexperienced eyes, my dear.” But I had never seen a -twentieth part of the quantity, and, in reality, I was pretty much of her -opinion. - -However, at two P. M. on the afternoon of the sixth day, that is to say, -when we were sixty-six days out, John Steadiman, who had gone aloft, -sang out from the top, that the sea was clear ahead. Before four P. M. a -strong breeze springing up right astern, we were in open water at sunset. -The breeze then freshening into half a gale of wind, and the Golden Mary -being a very fast sailer, we went before the wind merrily, all night. - -I had thought it impossible that it could be darker than it had been, -until the sun, moon, and stars should fall out of the Heavens, and Time -should be destroyed; but, it had been next to light, in comparison with -what it was now. The darkness was so profound, that looking into it was -painful and oppressive—like looking, without a ray of light, into a dense -black bandage put as close before the eyes as it could be, without -touching them. I doubled the lookout, and John and I stood in the bow -side-by-side, never leaving it all night. Yet I should no more have known -that he was near me when he was silent, without putting out my arm and -touching him, than I should if he had turned in and been fast asleep -below. We were not so much looking out, all of us, as listening to the -utmost, both with our eyes and ears. - -Next day, I found that the mercury in the barometer, which had risen -steadily since we cleared the ice, remained steady. I had had very good -observations, with now and then the interruption of a day or so, since -our departure. I got the sun at noon, and found that we were in Lat. 58° -S., Long. 60° W., off New South Shetland; in the neighborhood of Cape -Horn. We were sixty-seven days out, that day. The ship’s reckoning was -accurately worked and made up. The ship did her duty admirably, all on -board were well, and all hands were as smart, efficient, and contented as -it was possible to be. - -When the night came on again as dark as before, it was the eighth night -I had been on deck. Nor had I taken more than a very little sleep in the -daytime, my station being always near the helm, and often at it, while -we were among the ice. Few but those who have tried it can imagine the -difficulty and pain of only keeping the eyes open—physically open—under -such circumstances, in such darkness. They get struck by the darkness, -and blinded by the darkness. They make patterns in it, and they flash in -it, as if they had gone out of your head to look at you. On the turn of -midnight, John Steadiman, who was alert and fresh (for I had always made -him turn in by day), said to me, “Captain Ravender, I entreat of you to -go below. I am sure you can hardly stand, and your voice is getting weak, -sir. Go below, and take a little rest. I’ll call you if a block chafes.” -I said to John in answer, “Well, well, John! Let us wait till the turn of -one o’clock, before we talk about that.” I had just had one of the ship’s -lanterns held up, that I might see how the night went by my watch, and it -was then twenty minutes after twelve. - -At five minutes before one, John sang out to the boy to bring the lantern -again, and when I told him once more what the time was, entreated and -prayed of me to go below. “Captain Ravender,” says he, “all’s well; we -can’t afford to have you laid up for a single hour; and I respectfully -and earnestly beg of you to go below.” The end of it was, that I agreed -to do so, on the understanding that if I failed to come up of my own -accord within three hours, I was to be punctually called. Having settled -that, I left John in charge. But I called him to me once afterwards, to -ask him a question. I had been to look at the barometer, and had seen the -mercury still perfectly steady, and had come up the companion again to -take a last look about me—if I can use such a word in reference to such -darkness—when I thought that the waves, as the Golden Mary parted them -and shook them off, had a hollow sound in them; something that I fancied -was a rather unusual reverberation. I was standing by the quarterdeck -rail on the starboard side, when I called John aft to me, and bade him -listen. He did so with the greatest attention. Turning to me he then -said, “Rely upon it, Captain Ravender, you have been without rest too -long, and the novelty is only in the state of your sense of hearing.” I -thought so too by that time, and I think so now, though I can never know -for absolute certain in this world, whether it was or not. - -When I left John Steadiman in charge, the ship was still going at a great -rate through the water. The wind still blew right astern. Though she was -making great way, she was under shortened sail, and had no more than she -could easily carry. All was snug, and nothing complained. There was a -pretty sea running, but not a high sea neither, nor at all a confused one. - -I turned in, as we seamen say, all standing. The meaning of that is, I -did not pull my clothes off—no, not even so much as my coat; though I -did my shoes, for my feet were badly swelled with the deck. There was -a little swing-lamp alight in my cabin. I thought, as I looked at it -before shutting my eyes, that I was so tired of darkness and troubled by -darkness, that I could have gone to sleep best in the midst of a million -of flaming gas-lights. That was the last thought I had before I went off, -except the prevailing thought that I should not be able to get to sleep -at all. - - -THE WRECK - -I dreamed that I was back at Penrith again, and was trying to get round -the church, which had altered its shape very much since I last saw it, -and was cloven all down the middle of the steeple in a most singular -manner. Why I wanted to get round the church I don’t know; but I was as -anxious to do it as if my life depended on it. Indeed, I believe it did -in the dream. For all that, I could not get round the church. I was still -trying, when I came against it with a violent shock, and was flung out of -my cot against the ship’s side. Shrieks and a terrific outcry struck me -far harder than the bruising timbers, and amidst sounds of grinding and -crashing, and a heavy rushing and breaking of water—sounds I understood -too well—I made my way on deck. It was not an easy thing to do, for the -ship heeled over frightfully, and was beating in a furious manner. - -I could not see the men as I went forward, but I could hear that they -were hauling in sail, in disorder. I had my trumpet in my hand, and, -after directing and encouraging them in this till it was done, I hailed -first John Steadiman, and then my second mate, Mr. William Rames. Both -answered clearly and steadily. Now, I had practiced them and all my crew, -as I have ever made it a custom to practice all who sail with me, to take -certain stations and wait my orders, in case of any unexpected crisis. -When my voice was heard hailing, and their voices were heard answering, -I was aware, through all the noises of the ship and sea, and all the -crying of the passengers below, that there was a pause. “Are you ready, -Rames?”—“Ay, ay, sir!”—“Then light up, for God’s sake!” In a moment he -and another were burning blue-lights, and the ship and all on board -seemed to be enclosed in a mist of light, under a great black dome. - -The light shone up so high that I could see the huge Iceberg upon which -we had struck, cloven at the top and down the middle, exactly like -Penrith Church in my dream. At the same moment I could see the watch last -relieved crowding up and down on deck; I could see Mrs. Atherfield and -Miss Coleshaw thrown about on the top of the companion as they struggled -to bring the child up from below; I could see that the masts were going -with the shock and the beating of the ship; I could see the frightful -breach stove in on the starboard side, half the length of the vessel, -and the sheathing and timbers spirting up; I could see that the Cutter -was disabled, in a wreck of broken fragments; and I could see every eye -turned upon me. It is my belief that if there had been ten thousand eyes -there, I should have seen them all, with their different looks. And all -this in a moment. But you must consider what a moment. - -I saw the men, as they looked at me, fall toward their appointed -stations, like good men and true. If she had not righted, they could -have done very little there or anywhere but die—not that it is little -for a man to die at his post—I mean they could have done nothing to save -the passengers and themselves. Happily, however, the violence of the -shock with which we had so determinedly borne down direct on that fatal -Iceberg, as if it had been our destination instead of our destruction, -had so smashed and pounded the ship that she got off in this same instant -and righted. I did not want the carpenter to tell me she was filling and -going down; I could see and hear that. I gave Rames the word to lower the -Long-boat and the Surf-boat, and I myself told off the men for each duty. -Not one hung back, or came before the other. I now whispered to John -Steadiman, “John, I stand at the gangway here, to see every soul on board -safe over the side. You shall have the next post of honor, and shall be -the last but one to leave the ship. Bring up the passengers, and range -them behind me; and put what provision and water you can get at in the -boats. Cast your eye forward, John, and you’ll see you have not a moment -to lose.” - -My noble fellows got the boats over the side as orderly as I ever saw -boats lowered with any sea running, and when they were launched, two or -three of the nearest men in them as they held on, rising and falling with -the swell, called out, looking up at me, “Captain Ravender, if anything -goes wrong with us, and you are saved, remember, we stood by you!”—“We’ll -all stand by one another ashore, yet, please God, my lads!” says I. “Hold -on bravely, and be tender with the women.” - -The women were an example to us. They trembled very much, but they were -quiet and perfectly collected. “Kiss me, Captain Ravender,” says Mrs. -Atherfield, “and God in heaven bless you, you good man!” “My dear,” says -I, “those words are better for me than a life-boat.” I held her child in -my arms till she was in the boat, and then kissed the child and handed -her safe down. I now said to the people in her, “You have got your -freight, my lads, all but me, and I am not coming yet awhile. Pull away -from the ship, and keep off!” - -That was the Long-boat. Old Mr. Rarx was one of her complement, and he -was the only passenger who had greatly misbehaved since the ship struck. -Others had been a little wild, which was not to be wondered at, and -not very blamable; but, he had made a lamentation and uproar which it -was dangerous for the people to hear, as there is always contagion in -weakness and selfishness. His incessant cry had been that he must not be -separated from the child, that he couldn’t see the child, and that he and -the child must go together. He had even tried to wrest the child out of -my arms, that he might keep her in his. “Mr. Rarx,” said I to him when -it came to that, “I have a loaded pistol in my pocket; and if you don’t -stand out of the gangway, and keep perfectly quiet, I shall shoot you -through the heart, if you have got one.” Says he, “You won’t do murder, -Captain Ravender!” “No, sir,” says I, “I won’t murder forty-four people -to humor you, but I’ll shoot you to save them.” After that he was quiet, -and stood shivering a little way off, until I named him to go over the -side. - -The Long-boat being cast off, the Surf-boat was soon filled. There only -remained aboard the Golden Mary, John Mullion, the man who had kept -on burning the blue-lights (and who had so lighted every new one at -every old one before it went out, as quietly as if he had been at an -illumination); John Steadiman; and myself. I hurried those two into the -Surf-boat, called to them to keep off, and waited with a grateful and -relieved heart for the Long-boat to come and take me in, if she could. I -looked at my watch, and it showed me, by the blue-light, ten minutes past -two. They lost no time. As soon as she was near enough, I swung myself -into her, and called to the men, “With a will, lads! She’s reeling!” -We were not an inch too far out of the inner vortex of her going down, -when, by the blue-light which John Mullion still burnt in the bow of the -Surf-boat, we saw her lurch, and plunge to the bottom head-foremost. The -child cried, weeping wildly, “O the dear Golden Mary! O look at her! Save -her! Save the poor Golden Mary!” And then the light burned out, and the -black dome seemed to come down upon us. - - -ADRIFT IN LIFE BOATS - -I suppose if we had all stood atop of a mountain, and seen the whole -remainder of the world sink away from under us, we could hardly have -felt more shocked and solitary than we did when we knew we were alone on -the wide ocean, and that the beautiful ship in which most of us had been -securely asleep within half an hour was gone for ever. There was an awful -silence in our boat, and such a kind of palsy on the rowers and the man -at the rudder, that I felt they were scarcely keeping her before the sea. -I spoke out then, and said, “Let every one here thank the Lord for our -preservation!” All the voices answered (even the child’s), “We thank the -Lord!” I then said the Lord’s Prayer, and all hands said it after me with -a solemn murmuring. Then I gave the word “Cheerily, O men, cheerily!” -and I felt that they were handling the boat again as a boat ought to be -handled. - -The Surf-boat now burned another blue-light to show us where they were, -and we made for her, and laid ourselves as nearly alongside of her as we -dared. I had always kept my boats with a coil or two of good stout stuff -in each of them, so both boats had a rope at hand. We made a shift, with -much labor and trouble, to get near enough to one another to divide the -blue-lights (they were no use after that night, for the sea-water soon -got at them), and to get a tow-rope out between us. All night long we -kept together, sometimes obliged to cast off the rope, and sometimes -getting it out again, and all of us wearying for the morning—which -appeared so long in coming that old Mr. Rarx screamed out, in spite of -his fears of me, “The world is drawing to an end, and the sun will never -rise any more!” - -When the day broke, I found that we were all huddled together in a -miserable manner. We were deep in the water; being, as I found on -mustering, thirty-one in number, or at least six too many. In the -Surf-boat they were fourteen in number, being at least four too many. The -first thing I did, was to get myself passed to the rudder—which I took -from that time—and to get Mrs. Atherfield, her child, and Miss Coleshaw, -passed on to sit next me. As to old Mr. Rarx, I put him in the bow, as -far from us as I could. And I put some of the best men near us in order -that if I should drop there might be a skillful hand ready to take the -helm. - -The sea moderating as the sun came up, though the sky was cloudy and -wild, we spoke the other boat, to know what stores they had, and to -overhaul what we had. I had a compass in my pocket, a small telescope, -a double-barreled pistol, a knife, and a fire-box and matches. Most of -my men had knives, and some had a little tobacco; some, a pipe as well. -We had a mug among us, and an iron spoon. As to provisions, there were -in my boat two bags of biscuit, one piece of raw beef, one piece of raw -pork, a bag of coffee, roasted but not ground (thrown in, I imagine, by -mistake, for something else), two small casks of water, and about half a -gallon of rum in a keg. The Surf-boat, having rather more rum than we, -and fewer to drink it, gave us, as I estimated, another quart into our -keg. In return, we gave them three double handfuls of coffee, tied up in -a piece of a handkerchief; they reported that they had aboard besides, a -bag of biscuit, a piece of beef, a small cask of water, a small box of -lemons, and a Dutch cheese. It took a long time to make these exchanges, -and they were not made without risk to both parties; the sea running -quite high enough to make our approaching near to one another very -hazardous. In the bundle with the coffee, I conveyed to John Steadiman -(who had a ship’s compass with him), a paper written in pencil, and torn -from my pocket-book, containing the course I meant to steer, in the hope -of making land, or being picked up by some vessel—I say in the hope, -though I had little hope of either deliverance. I then sang out to him, -so as all might hear, that if we two boats could live or die together, we -would; but, that if we should be parted by the weather, and join company -no more, they should have our prayers and blessings, and we asked for -theirs. We then gave them three cheers, which they returned, and I saw -the men’s heads droop in both boats as they fell to their oars again. - -These arrangements had occupied the general attention advantageously -for all, though (as I expressed in the last sentence) they ended in a -sorrowful feeling. I now said a few words to my fellow-voyagers on the -subject of the small stock of food on which our lives depended if they -were preserved from the great deep, and on the rigid necessity of our -eking it out in the most frugal manner. One and all replied that whatever -allowance I thought best to lay down should be strictly kept to. We made -a pair of scales out of a thin scrap of iron-plating and some twine, and -I got together for weights such of the heaviest buttons among us as I -calculated made up some fraction over two ounces. This was the allowance -of solid food served out once a day to each, from that time to the end; -with the addition of a coffee-berry, or sometimes half a one, when the -weather was very fair, for breakfast. We had nothing else whatever, but -half a pint of water each per day, and sometimes, when we were coldest -and weakest, a teaspoonful of rum each, served out as a dram. I know -how learnedly it can be shown that rum is poison, but I also know that -in this case, as in all similar cases I have ever read of—which are -numerous—no words can express the comfort and support derived from it. -Nor have I the least doubt that it saved the lives of far more than half -our number. Having mentioned half a pint of water as our daily allowance, -I ought to observe that sometimes we had less, and sometimes we had -more; for much rain fell, and we caught it in a canvas stretched for the -purpose. - -Thus, at that tempestuous time of the year, and in that tempestuous -part of the world, we shipwrecked people rose and fell with the waves. -It is not my intention to relate (if I can avoid it) such circumstances -appertaining to our doleful condition as have been better told in many -other narratives of the kind than I can be expected to tell them. I will -only note, in so many passing words, that day after day and night after -night, we received the sea upon our backs to prevent it from swamping the -boat; that one party was always kept bailing, and that every hat and -cap among us soon got worn out, though patched up fifty times, as the -only vessels we had for that service; that another party lay down in the -bottom of the boat, while a third rowed; and that we were soon all in -boils and blisters and rags. - -The other boat was a source of such anxious interest to all of us that I -used to wonder whether, if we were saved, the time could ever come when -the survivors in this boat of ours could be at all indifferent to the -fortunes of the survivors in that. We got out a tow-rope whenever the -weather permitted, but that did not often happen, and how we two parties -kept within the same horizon, as we did, He, who mercifully permitted -it to be so for our consolation, only knows. I never shall forget the -looks with which, when the morning light came, we used to gaze about -us over the stormy waters, for the other boat. We once parted company -for seventy-two hours, and we believed them to have gone down, as they -did us. The joy on both sides when we came within view of one another -again, had something in a manner Divine in it; each was so forgetful of -individual suffering, in tears of delight and sympathy for the people in -the other boat. - -I have been wanting to get round to the individual or personal part of my -subject, as I call it, and the foregoing incident puts me in the right -way. The patience and good disposition aboard of us, was wonderful. I was -not surprised by it in the women; for all men born of women know what -great qualities they will show when men fail; but, I own I was a little -surprised by it in some of the men. Among one-and-thirty people assembled -at the best of times, there will usually, I should say, be two or three -uncertain tempers. I knew that I had more than one rough temper with me -among my own people, for I had chosen those for the Long-boat that I -might have them under my eye. But, they softened under their misery, and -were as considerate of the ladies, and as compassionate of the child, -as the best among us, or among men—they could not have been more so. I -heard scarcely any complaining. The party lying down would moan a good -deal in their sleep, and I would often notice a man—not always the same -man, it is to be understood, but clearly all of them at one time or -other—sitting moaning at his oar, or in his place, as he looked mistily -over the sea. When it happened to be long before I could catch his eye, -he would go on moaning all the time in the dismalest manner; but when -our looks met, he would brighten and leave off. I almost always got the -impression that he did not know what sound he had been making, but that -he thought he had been humming a tune. - -Our sufferings from cold and wet were far greater than our sufferings -from hunger. We managed to keep the child warm; but, I doubt if any one -else among us ever was warm for five minutes together; and the shivering, -and the chattering of teeth, were sad to hear. The child cried a little -at first for her lost playfellow, the Golden Mary; but hardly ever -whimpered afterwards; and when the state of the weather made it possible, -she used now and then to be held up in the arms of some of us, to look -over the sea for John Steadiman’s boat. I see the golden hair and the -innocent face now, between me and the driving clouds, like an angel going -to fly away. - -It happened on the second day, toward night, that Mrs. Atherfield, in -getting little Lucy to sleep, sang her a song. She had a soft, melodious -voice, and when she had finished it, our people up and begged for -another. She sang them another, and after it had fallen dark ended with -the Evening Hymn. From that time, whenever anything could be heard above -the sea and wind, and while she had any voice left, nothing would serve -the people but that she should sing at sunset. She always did, and always -ended with the Evening Hymn. We mostly took up the last line, and shed -tears when it was done, but not miserably. We had a prayer night and -morning, also, when the weather allowed of it. - -Twelve nights and eleven days we had been driving in the boat, when -old Mr. Rarx began to be delirious, and to cry out to me to throw the -gold overboard or it would sink us, and we should all be lost. For days -past the child had been declining, and that was the great cause of his -wildness. He had been over and over again shrieking out to me to give -her all the remaining meat, to give her all the remaining rum, to save -her at any cost, or we should all be ruined. At this time, she lay in -her mother’s arms at my feet. One of her little hands was almost always -creeping about her mother’s neck or chin. I had watched the wasting of -the little hand, and I knew it was nearly over. - -The old man’s cries were so discordant with the mother’s love, and -submission, that I called out to him in an angry voice, unless he held -his peace on the instant, I would order him to be knocked on the head -and thrown overboard. He was mute then, until the child died, very -peacefully, an hour afterwards; which was known to all in the boat by -the mother’s breaking out into lamentations for the first time since the -wreck—for she had great fortitude and constancy, though she was a little -gentle woman. Old Mr. Rarx then became quite ungovernable, tearing what -rags he had on him, raging in imprecations, and calling to me that if I -had thrown the gold overboard (always the gold with him!) I might have -saved the child. “And now,” says he, in a terrible voice, “we shall -founder, and all go to the Devil, for our sins will sink us, when we have -no innocent child to bear us up!” We soon discovered with amazement, that -this old wretch had only cared for the life of the pretty little creature -dear to all of us, because of the influence he superstitiously hoped she -might have in preserving him! Altogether it was too much for the smith, -or armorer, who was sitting next the old man, to bear. He took him by the -throat and rolled him under the thwarts, where he lay still enough for -hours afterwards. - -All that thirteenth night, Miss Coleshaw, lying across my knees as I kept -the helm, comforted and supported the poor mother. Her child, covered -with a pea-jacket of mine, lay in her lap. It troubled me all night to -think that there was no Prayer-Book among us, and that I could remember -but very few of the exact words of the burial service. When I stood up at -broad day, all knew what was going to be done, and I noticed that my poor -fellows made the motion of uncovering their heads, though their heads had -been stark bare to the sky and sea for many a weary hour. There was a -long heavy swell on, but otherwise it was a fair morning, and there were -broad fields of sunlight on the waves in the east. I said no more than -this: “I am the Resurrection and the Life, saith the Lord. He raised the -daughter of Jairus the ruler, and said she was not dead but slept. He -raised the widow’s son. He arose Himself, and was seen of many. He loved -little children, saying, ‘Suffer them to come unto Me and rebuke them -not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven.’ In His name, my friends, and -committed to His merciful goodness!” With those words I laid my rough -face softly on the placid little forehead, and buried the Golden Lucy in -the grave of the Golden Mary. - -Having had it on my mind to relate the end of this dear little child, I -have omitted something from its exact place, which I will supply here. It -will come quite as well here as anywhere else. - -Foreseeing that if the boat lived through the stormy weather, the time -must come, and soon come, when we should have absolutely no morsel -to eat, I had one momentous point often in my thoughts. Although I -had, years before that, fully satisfied myself that the instances in -which human beings in the last distress have fed upon each other, are -exceedingly few, and have very seldom indeed (if ever) occurred when -the people in distress, however dreadful their extremity, have been -accustomed to moderate forbearance and restraint; I say, though I had -long before quite satisfied my mind on this topic, I felt doubtful -whether there might not have been in former cases some harm and danger -from keeping it out of sight and pretending not to think of it. I felt -doubtful whether some minds, growing weak with fasting and exposure and -having such a terrific idea to dwell upon in secret, might not magnify -it until it got to have an awful attraction about it. This was not a -new thought of mine, for it had grown out of my reading. However, it -came over me stronger than it had ever done before—as it had reason for -doing—in the boat, and on the fourth day I decided that I would bring -out into the light that unformed fear which must have been more or less -darkly in every brain among us. Therefore, as a means of beguiling -the time and inspiring hope, I gave them the best summary in my power -of Bligh’s voyage of more than three thousand miles, in an open boat, -after the Mutiny of the Bounty, and of the wonderful preservation of -that boat’s crew. They listened throughout with great interest, and I -concluded by telling them that, in my opinion, the happiest circumstance -in the whole narrative was that Bligh, who was no delicate man, either, -had solemnly placed it on record therein that he was sure and certain -that under no conceivable circumstances whatever would that emaciated -party, who had gone through all the pains of famine, have preyed on one -another. I cannot describe the visible relief which this spread through -the boat, and how the tears stood in every eye. From that time I was as -well convinced as Bligh himself that there was no danger, and that this -phantom, at any rate, did not haunt us. - -Now, it was a part of Bligh’s experience that when the people in his boat -were most cast down, nothing did them so much good as hearing a story -told by one of their number. When I mentioned that, I saw that it struck -the general attention as much as it did my own, for I had not thought -of it until I came to it in my summary. This was on the day after Mrs. -Atherfield first sang to us. I proposed that, whenever the weather would -permit, we should have a story two hours after dinner (I always issued -the allowance I have mentioned at one o’clock, and called it by that -name), as well as our song at sunset. The proposal was received with a -cheerful satisfaction that warmed my heart within me; and I do not say -too much when I say that those two periods in the four-and-twenty hours -were expected with positive pleasure, and were really enjoyed by all -hands. Specters as we soon were, in our bodily wasting, our imaginations -did not perish like the gross flesh upon our bones. Music and Adventure, -two of the great gifts of Providence to mankind, could charm us long -after that was lost. - -The wind was almost always against us after the second day; and for many -days together we could not nearly hold our own. We had all varieties of -bad weather. We had rain, hail, snow, wind, mist, thunder, and lightning. -Still the boats lived through the heavy seas, and still we perishing -people rose and fell with the great waves. - -Sixteen nights and fifteen days, twenty nights and nineteen days, -twenty-four nights and twenty-three days. So the time went on. -Disheartening as I knew that our progress, or want of progress, must be, -I never deceived them as to my calculations of it. In the first place, I -felt that we were all too near eternity for deceit; in the second place, -I knew that if I failed, or died, the man who followed me must have a -knowledge of the true state of things to begin upon. When I told them at -noon, what I reckoned we had made or lost, they generally received what -I said in a tranquil and resigned manner, and always gratefully toward -me. It was not unusual at any time of the day for some one to burst out -weeping loudly without any new cause; and, when the burst was over, to -calm down a little better than before. I had seen exactly the same thing -in a house of mourning. - -During the whole of this time, old Mr. Rarx had had his fits of calling -out to me to throw the gold (always the gold!) overboard, and of heaping -violent reproaches upon me for not having saved the child; but now, the -food being all gone, and I having nothing left to serve out but a bit -of coffee-berry now and then, he began to be too weak to do this, and -consequently fell silent. Mrs. Atherfield and Miss Coleshaw generally -lay, each with an arm across one of my knees and her head upon it. They -never complained at all. Up to the time of her child’s death, Mrs. -Atherfield had bound up her own beautiful hair every day; and I took -particular notice that this was always before she sang her song at night, -when every one looked at her. But she never did it after the loss of her -darling; and it would have been now all tangled with dirt and wet, but -that Miss Coleshaw was careful of it long after she was, herself, and -would sometimes smooth it down with her weak thin hands. - -We were past mustering a story now; but one day, at about this period, -I reverted to the superstition of old Mr. Rarx, concerning the Golden -Lucy, and told them that nothing vanished from the eye of God, though -much might pass away from the eyes of men. “We were all of us,” says I, -“children once; and our baby feet have strolled in green woods ashore; -and our baby hands have gathered flowers in gardens, where the birds were -singing. The children that we were, are not lost to the great knowledge -of our Creator. Those innocent creatures will appear with us before -Him, and plead for us. What we were in the best time of our generous -youth will arise and go with us too. The purest part of our lives will -not desert us at the pass to which all of us here present are gliding. -What we were then, will be as much in existence before Him, as what we -are now.” They were no less comforted by this consideration, than I was -myself; and Miss Coleshaw, drawing my ear nearer to her lips, said, -“Captain Ravender, I was on my way to marry a disgraced and broken man, -whom I dearly loved when he was honorable and good. Your words seem to -have come out of my own poor heart.” She pressed my hand upon it, smiling. - -Twenty-seven nights and twenty-six days. We were in no want of -rain-water, but we had nothing else. And yet, even now, I never turned -my eyes on a waking face but it tried to brighten before mine. O what -a thing it is, in a time of danger and in the presence of death, the -shining of a face upon a face! I have heard it broached that orders -should be given in great new ships by electric telegraph. I admire -machinery as much as any man, and am as thankful to it as any man can be -for what it does for us. But it will never be a substitute for the face -of a man, with his soul in it, encouraging another man to be brave and -true. Never try it for that. It will break down like a straw. - -I now began to remark certain changes in myself which I did not like. -They caused me much disquiet. I often saw the Golden Lucy in the air -above the boat. I often saw her I have spoken of before, sitting beside -me. I saw the Golden Mary go down, as she really had gone down, twenty -times in a day. And yet the sea was mostly, to my thinking, not sea -neither, but moving country and extraordinary mountainous regions, the -like of which have never been beheld. I felt it time to leave my last -words regarding John Steadiman, in case any lips should last out to -repeat them to any living ears. I said that John had told me (as he had -on deck) that he had sung out “Breakers ahead!” the instant they were -audible, and had tried to wear ship, but she struck before it could -be done. (His cry, I dare say, had made my dream.) I said that the -circumstances were altogether without warning, and out of any course that -could have been guarded against; that the same loss would have happened -if I had been in charge; and that John was not to blame, but from first -to last had done his duty nobly, like the man he was. I tried to write -it down in my pocket-book, but could make no words, though I knew what -the words were that I wanted to make. When it had come to that, her -hands—though she was dead so long—laid me down gently in the bottom of -the boat, and she and the Golden Lucy swung me to sleep. - - -THE TALE OF THE CHIEF MATE - -_All that follows was written by John Steadiman, Chief Mate:_ - -On the twenty-sixth day after the foundering of the Golden Mary at sea, -I, John Steadiman, was sitting in my place in the stern-sheets of the -Surf-boat, with just sense enough left in me to steer—that is to say, -with my eyes strained, wide-awake, over the bows of the boat, and my -brains fast asleep and dreaming—when I was roused upon a sudden by our -second mate, Mr. William Rames. - -“Let me take a spell in your place,” says he. “And look you out for -the Long-boat astern. The last time she rose on the crest of a wave, I -thought I made out a signal flying aboard her.” - -We shifted our places, clumsily and slowly enough, for we were both of us -weak and dazed with wet, cold, and hunger. I waited some time, watching -the heavy rollers astern, before the Long-boat rose atop of one of them -at the same time with us. At last, she was heaved up for a moment well in -view, and there, sure enough, was the signal flying aboard of her—a strip -of rag of some sort, rigged to an oar, and hoisted in her bows. - -“What does it mean?” says Rames to me in a quavering, trembling sort of -voice. “Do they signal a sail in sight?” - -“Hush, for God’s sake!” says I, clapping my hand over his mouth. “Don’t -let the people hear you. They’ll all go mad together if we mislead them -about that signal. Wait a bit, till I have another look at it.” - -I held on by him, for he had set me all of a tremble with his notion of -a sail in sight, and watched for the Long-boat again. Up she rose on the -top of another roller. I made out the signal clearly, that second time, -and saw that it was rigged half-mast. - -“Rames,” says I, “it’s a signal of distress. Pass the word forward to -keep her before the sea, and no more. We must get the Long-boat within -hailing distance of us, as soon as possible.” - -I dropped down into my old place at the tiller without another word—for -the thought went through me like a knife that something had happened to -Captain Ravender. I should consider myself unworthy to write another line -of this statement, if I had not made up my mind to speak the truth, the -whole truth, and nothing but the truth—and I must, therefore, confess -plainly that now, for the first time, my heart sank within me. This -weakness on my part was produced in some degree, as I take it, by the -exhausting effects of previous anxiety and grief. - -Our provisions—if I may give that name to what we had left—were -reduced to the rind of one lemon and about a couple of handfuls of -coffee-berries. Besides these great distresses, caused by the death, -the danger, and the suffering among my crew and passengers, I had had a -little distress of my own to shake me still more, in the death of the -child whom I had got to be very fond of on the voyage out—so fond that I -was secretly a little jealous of her being taken in the Long-boat instead -of mine when the ship foundered. It used to be a great comfort to me, and -I think to those with me also, after we had seen the last of the Golden -Mary, to see the Golden Lucy, held up by the men in the Long-boat, when -the weather allowed it, as the best and brightest sight they had to show. -She looked, at the distance we saw her from, almost like a little white -bird in the air. To miss her for the first time, when the weather lulled -a little again, and we all looked out for our white bird and looked in -vain, was a sore disappointment. To see the men’s heads bowed down and -the captain’s hand pointing into the sea when we hailed the Long-boat, a -few days after, gave me as heavy a shock and as sharp a pang of heartache -to bear as ever I remember suffering in all my life. I only mention these -things to show that if I did give way a little at first, under the dread -that our captain was lost to us, it was not without having been a good -deal shaken beforehand by more trials of one sort or another than often -fall to one man’s share. - -I had got over the choking in my throat with the help of a drop of -water, and had steadied my mind again so as to be prepared against the -worst, when I heard the hail (Lord help the poor fellows, how weak it -sounded!)— - -“Surf-boat, ahoy!” - -I looked up, and there were our companions in misfortune tossing abreast -of us; not so near that we could make out the features of any of them, -but near enough, with some exertion for people in our condition, to make -their voices heard in the intervals when the wind was weakest. - -I answered the hail, and waited a bit, and heard nothing, and then sang -out the captain’s name. The voice that replied did not sound like his; -the words that reached us were: - -“Chief mate wanted on board!” - -Every man of my crew knew what that meant as well as I did. As second -officer in command, there could be but one reason for wanting me on board -the Long-boat. A groan went all round us, and my men looked darkly in -each other’s faces, and whispered under their breaths: - -“The captain is dead!” - -I commanded them to be silent, and not to make too sure of bad news, -at such a pass as things had now come to with us. Then, hailing the -Long-boat, I signified that I was ready to go on board when the weather -would let me—stopped a bit to draw a good long breath—and then called out -as loud as I could the dreadful question: - -“Is the captain dead?” - -The black figures of three or four men in the after-part of the Long-boat -all stooped down together as my voice reached them. They were lost to -view for about a minute; then appeared again—one man among them was held -up on his feet by the rest, and he hailed back the blessed words (a very -faint hope went a very long way with people in our desperate situation): -“Not yet!” - -The relief felt by me, and by all with me, when we knew that our captain, -though unfitted for duty, was not lost to us, it is not in words—at -least, not in such words as a man like me can command—to express. I did -my best to cheer the men by telling them what a good sign it was that -we were not as badly off yet as we had feared, and then communicated -what instructions I had to give, to William Rames, who was to be left -in command in my place when I took charge of the Long-boat. After that, -there was nothing to be done, but to wait for the chance of the wind -dropping at sunset, and the sea going down afterwards, so as to enable -our weak crews to lay the two boats alongside of each other, without -undue risk—or, to put it plainer, without saddling ourselves with the -necessity for any extraordinary exertion of strength or skill. Both -the one and the other had now been starved out of us for days and days -together. - -At sunset the wind suddenly dropped, but the sea, which had been running -high for so long a time past, took hours after that before it showed any -signs of getting to rest. The moon was shining, the sky was wonderfully -clear, and it could not have been, according to my calculations, far off -midnight, when the long, slow, regular swell of the calming ocean fairly -set in, and I took the responsibility of lessening the distance between -the Long-boat and ourselves. - -It was, I dare say, a delusion of mine; but I thought I had never seen -the moon shine so white and ghastly anywhere, either at sea or on land, -as she shone that night while we were approaching our companions in -misery. When there was not much more than a boat’s length between us, and -the white light streamed cold and clear over all our faces, both crews -rested on their oars with one great shudder, and stared over the gunwale -of either boat, panic-stricken at the first sight of each other. - -“Any lives lost among you?” I asked, in the midst of that frightful -silence. - -The men in the Long-boat huddled together like sheep at the sound of my -voice. - -“None yet, but the child, thanks be to God!” answered one among them. - -And at the sound of his voice, all my men shrank together like the men -in the Long-boat. I was afraid to let the horror produced by our first -meeting at close quarters after the dreadful changes that wet, cold, and -famine had produced, last one moment longer than could be helped; so, -without giving time for any more questions and answers, I commanded -the men to lay the two boats close alongside of each other. When I rose -up and committed the tiller to the hands of Rames, all my poor fellows -raised their white faces imploringly to mine. “Don’t leave us, sir,” they -said, “don’t leave us.” “I leave you,” says I, “under the command and the -guidance of Mr. William Rames, as good a sailor as I am, and as trusty -and kind a man as ever stepped. Do your duty by him, as you have done it -by me; and remember to the last, that while there is life there is hope. -God bless and help you all!” - -With those words I collected what strength I had left, and caught at two -arms that were held out to me, and so got from the stern-sheets of one -boat into the stern-sheets of the other. - -“Mind where you step, sir,” whispered one of the men who had helped me -into the Long-boat. I looked down as he spoke. Three figures were huddled -up below me, with the moonshine falling on them in ragged streaks through -the gaps between the men standing or sitting above them. The first face -I made out was the face of Miss Coleshaw; her eyes were wide open and -fixed on me. She seemed still to keep her senses, and, by the alternate -parting and closing of her lips, to be trying to speak, but I could not -hear that she uttered a single word. On her shoulder rested the head of -Mrs. Atherfield. The mother of our poor little Golden Lucy must, I think, -have been dreaming of the child she had lost; for there was a faint -smile just ruffling the white stillness of her face, when I first saw it -turned upward, with peaceful closed eyes toward the heavens. From her, -I looked down a little, and there, with his head on her lap, and with -one of her hands resting tenderly on his cheek—there lay the captain, to -whose help and guidance, up to this miserable time, we had never looked -in vain,—there, worn out at last in our service, and for our sakes, lay -the best and bravest man of all our company. I stole my hand in gently -through his clothes and laid it on his heart, and felt a little feeble -warmth over it, though my cold dulled touch could not detect even the -faintest beating. The two men in the stern-sheets with me, noticing what -I was doing—knowing I loved him like a brother—and seeing, I suppose, -more distress in my face than I myself was conscious of its showing, lost -command over themselves altogether, and burst into a piteous moaning, -sobbing lamentation over him. One of the two drew aside a jacket from his -feet, and showed me that they were bare, except where a wet, ragged strip -of stocking still clung to one of them. When the ship struck the Iceberg, -he had run on deck leaving his shoes in his cabin. All through the voyage -in the boat his feet had been unprotected; and not a soul had discovered -it until he dropped! As long as he could keep his eyes open, the very -look of them had cheered the men, and comforted and upheld the women. -Not one living creature in the boat, with any sense about him, but had -felt the good influence of that brave man in one way or another. Not one -but had heard him, over and over again, give the credit to others which -was due only to himself; praising this man for patience, and thanking -that man for help, when the patience and the help had really and truly, -as to the best part or both, come only from him. All this, and much -more, I heard pouring confusedly from the men’s lips while they crouched -down, sobbing and crying over their commander, and wrapping the jacket -as warmly and tenderly as they could over his cold feet. It went to my -heart to check them; but I knew that if this lamenting spirit spread -any further, all chance of keeping alight any last sparks of hope and -resolution among the boat’s company would be lost for ever. Accordingly -I sent them to their places, spoke a few encouraging words to the men -forward, promising to serve out, when the morning came, as much as I -dared, of any eatable thing left in the lockers; called to Rames, in my -old boat, to keep as near us as he safely could; drew the garments and -coverings of the two poor suffering women more closely about them; and, -with a secret prayer to be directed for the best in bearing the awful -responsibility now laid on my shoulders, took my captain’s vacant place -at the helm of the Long-boat. - -This, as well as I can tell it, is the full and true account of how I -came to be placed in charge of the lost passengers and crew of the Golden -Mary, on the morning of the twenty-seventh day after the ship struck the -Iceberg, and foundered at sea. - - -CHAPTER II—THE RESCUE - -THE END OF THE FOOD SUPPLY - -When the sun rose on the twenty-seventh day of our calamity, the first -question that I secretly asked myself was, “How many more mornings -will the stoutest of us live to see”? I had kept count, ever since we -took to the boats, of the days of the week; and I knew that we had now -arrived at another Thursday. Judging by my own sensations (and I believe -I had as much strength left as the best man among us), I came to the -conclusion that, unless the mercy of Providence interposed to effect our -deliverance, not one of our company could hope to see another morning -after the morning of Sunday. - -Two discoveries that I made—after redeeming my promise overnight, to -serve out with the morning whatever eatable thing I could find—helped -to confirm me in my gloomy view of our future prospects. In the first -place, when the few coffee-berries left, together with a small allowance -of water, had been shared all round, I found on examining the lockers -that not one grain of provision remained, fore or aft, in any part of -the boat, and that our stock of fresh water was reduced to not much more -than would fill a wine-bottle. In the second place, after the berries had -been shared, and the water equally divided, I noticed that the sustenance -thus administered produced no effect whatever, even of the most momentary -kind, in raising the spirits of the passengers (excepting in one case) or -in rallying the strength of the crew. The exception was Mr. Rarx. This -tough and greedy old sinner seemed to wake up from the trance he had -lain in so long, when the smell of the berries and water was under his -nose. He swallowed his share with a gulp that many a younger and better -man in the boat might have envied; and went maundering on to himself -afterwards, as if he had got a new lease of life. He fancied now that he -was digging a gold-mine, all by himself, and going down bodily straight -through the earth at the rate of thirty or forty miles an hour. “Leave -me alone,” says he, “leave me alone. The lower I go, the richer I get. -Down I go!—down, down, down, down, till I burst out at the other end of -the world in a shower of gold!” So he went on, kicking feebly with his -heels from time to time against the bottom of the boat. - -But, as for all the rest, it was a pitiful and dreadful sight to see -of how little use their last shadow of a meal was to them. I myself -attended, before anybody else was served, to the two poor women. Miss -Coleshaw shook her head faintly, and pointed to her throat, when I -offered her the few berries that fell to her share. I made a shift to -crush them up fine and mix them with a little water, and got her to -swallow that miserable drop of drink with the greatest difficulty. When -it was down there came no change for the better over her face. Nor did -she recover, for so much as a moment, the capacity to speak, even in a -whisper. I next tried Mrs. Atherfield. It was hard to wake her out of -the half-swooning, half-sleeping condition in which she lay—and harder -still to get her to open her lips when I put the tin-cup to them. When -I had at last prevailed on her to swallow her allowance, she shut her -eyes again, and fell back into her old position. I saw her lips moving; -and, putting my ear close to them, caught some of the words she was -murmuring to herself. She was still dreaming of the Golden Lucy. She and -the child were walking somewhere by the banks of a lake, at the time the -buttercups are out. The Golden Lucy was gathering the buttercups, and -making herself a watch-chain out of them, in imitation of the chain that -her mother wore. They were carrying a little basket with them, and were -going to dine together in a great hollow tree growing on the banks of the -lake. To get this pretty picture painted on one’s mind as I got it, while -listening to the poor mother’s broken words, and then to look up at the -haggard faces of the men in the boat, and at the wild ocean rolling all -round us, was such a change from fancy to reality as it has fallen, I -hope, to few men’s lots to experience. - -My next thought, when I had done my best for the women, was for the -captain. I was free to risk losing my own share of water, if I pleased, -so I tried, before tasting it myself, to get a little between his lips; -but his teeth were fast clenched, and I had neither strength nor skill -to open them. The faint warmth still remained, thank God, over his -heart—but, in all other respects he lay beneath us like a dead man. In -covering him up again as comfortably as I could, I found a bit of paper -crunched in one of his hands, and took it out. There was some writing on -it, but not a word was readable. I suppose, poor fellow, that he had been -trying to write some last instructions for me, just before he dropped at -his post. If they had been ever so easy to read, they would have been -of no use now. To follow instructions we must have had some power to -shape the boat’s course in a given direction—and this, which we had been -gradually losing for some days past, we had now lost altogether. - -I had hoped that the serving out of the refreshment would have put a -little modicum of strength into the arms of the men at the oars; but, -as I have hinted, this hope turned out to be perfectly fruitless. Our -last mockery of a meal, which had done nothing for the passengers, did -nothing either for the crew—except to aggravate the pangs of hunger in -the men who were still strong enough to feel them. While the weather held -moderate, it was not of much consequence if one or two of the rowers kept -dropping, in turn, into a kind of faint sleep over their oars. But if it -came on to blow again (and we could expect nothing else in those seas and -at that time of the year), how was I to steer, when the blades of the -oars were out of the water ten times as often as they were in? The lives -which we had undergone such suffering to preserve would have been lost -in an instant by the swamping of the boat, if the wind had risen on the -morning of Thursday, and had caught us trying to row any longer. - -Feeling this, I resolved, while the weather held moderately fine, to -hoist the best substitute for a sail that we could produce, and to drive -before the wind, on the chance (the last we had hope for) of a ship -picking us up. We had only continued to use the oars up to this time in -order to keep the course which the captain had pointed out as likeliest -to bring us near the land. Sailing had been out of the question from the -first, the masts and suits of sails belonging to each boat having been -out of them at the time of the wreck, and having gone down with the -ship. This was an accident which there was no need to deplore, for we -were too crowded from the first to admit of handling the boats properly, -under their regular press of sail, in anything like rough weather. - -Having made up my mind on what it was necessary to do I addressed the -men, and told them that any notion of holding longer on our course with -the oars was manifestly out of the question, and dangerous to all on -board, as their own common sense might tell them, in the state to which -the stoutest arms among us were now reduced. They looked round on each -other as I said that, each man seeming to think his neighbor weaker than -himself. I went on, and told them that we must take advantage of our -present glimpse of moderate weather, and hoist the best sail we could -set up, and drive before the wind, in the hope that it might please God -to direct us in the way of some ship before it was too late. “Our only -chance, my men,” I said, in conclusion, “is the chance of being picked -up; and in these desolate seas one point of the compass is just as likely -a point for our necessities as another. Half of you keep the boat before -the sea, the other half bring out your knives, and do as I tell you.” The -prospect of being relieved from the oars struck the wandering attention -of the men directly; and they said, “Ay, ay, sir!” with something like a -faint reflection of their former readiness, when the good ship was under -their feet, and the mess-cans were filled with plenty of wholesome food. - -Thanks to Captain Ravender’s forethought in providing both boats with a -coil of rope, we had our lashings, and the means of making what rigging -was wanted, ready to hand. One of the oars was made fast to the thwart, -and well stayed fore and aft, for a mast. A large pilot-coat that I wore -was spread; enough of sail for us. The only difficulty that puzzled me -was occasioned by the necessity of making a yard. The men tried to tear -up one of the thwarts, but were not strong enough. My own knife had -been broken in the attempt to split a bit of plank for them; and I was -almost at my wit’s end, when I luckily thought of searching the captain’s -pockets for his knife. I found it—a fine large knife of Sheffield -manufacture, with plenty of blades, and a small saw among them. With -this we made a shift to saw off about a third of another oar; and then -the difficulty was conquered; and we got my pilot-coat hoisted on our -jury-mast, and rigged it as nigh as we could to the fashion of a lug-sail. - -I had looked anxiously toward the Surf-boat, while we were rigging our -mast, and observed, with a feeling of great relief, that the men in -her—as soon as they discovered what we were about—were wise enough to -follow our example. They got on faster than we did; being less put to it -for room to turn round in. We set our sails as nearly as possible about -the same time; and it was well for both boats that we finished our work -when we did. At noon the wind began to rise again to a stiff breeze, -which soon knocked up a heavy, tumbling sea. We drove before it in a -direction North by East, keeping wonderfully dry, considering all things. -The mast stood well; and the sail, small as it was, did good service -in steadying the boat and lifting her easily over the seas. I felt the -cold after the loss of my coat, but not so badly as I had feared; for -the two men who were with me in the stern-sheets, sat as close as they -could on either side of me, and helped with the warmth of their own -bodies to keep the warmth in mine. Forward, I told off half a dozen of -the most trustworthy of the men who could still muster strength enough to -keep their eyes open, to set a watch, turn and turn about, on our frail -rigging. The wind was steadily increasing; and if any accident happened -to our mast the chances were that the boat would broach-to, and that -every one of us would go to the bottom. - -So we drove on—all through that day—sometimes catching sight of the -Surf-boat a little ahead of us—sometimes losing her altogether in the -scud. How little and frail, how very different to the kind of boat that -I had expected to see, she looked to my eyes now that I was out of her, -and saw what she showed like on the waters for the first time! But to -return to the Long-boat. The watch on the rigging was relieved every -two hours, and at the same regular periods all the brightest eyes left -amongst us looked out for the smallest vestige of a sail in view, and -looked in vain. Among the passengers, nothing happened in the way of a -change—except that Miss Coleshaw seemed to grow fainter, and that Mrs. -Atherfield got restless, as if she were waking out of her long dream -about the Golden Lucy. - -It got on toward sunset. The wind was rising to half a gale. The clouds, -which had been heavy all over the firmament since noon, were lifting to -the westward, and leaving there, over the horizon line of the ocean, a -long strip of clear, pale, greenish sky, overhung by a cloud-bank, whose -ragged edges were tipped with burning crimson by the sun. I did not like -the look of the night, and, keeping where I was, in the forward part of -the boat, I helped the men to ease the strain off our mast, by lowering -the yard a little and taking a pull on the sheet, so as to present to the -wind a smaller surface even of our small sail. Noting the wild look of -the weather, and the precautions we were taking against the chance of a -gale rising in the night—and being, furthermore, as I believe, staggered -in their minds by the death that had taken place among them—three of the -passengers struggled up in the bottom of the boat, clasped their arms -around me as if they were drowning men already, and hoarsely clamored -for a last drink of water, before the storm rose and sent us all to the -bottom. - -“Water you shall have,” I said, “when I think the time has come to serve -it out. The time has not come yet.” - -“Water, pray!” they all three groaned together. Two more passengers who -were asleep, woke up, and joined the cry. - -“Silence!” I said. “There are not two spoonfuls of fresh water left for -each man in the boat. I shall wait three hours more for the chance of -rain before I serve that out. Silence, and drop back to your places!” - - -A SAIL IN SIGHT - -They let go of me, but clamored weakly for water still; and, this time, -the voices of some of the crew joined them. At this moment, to my great -alarm (for I thought they were going mad and turning violent against me), -I was seized round the neck by one of the men, who had been standing up, -holding on by the mast, and looking out steadily to the westward. - -I raised my right hand to free myself; but before I touched him, the -sight of the man’s face close to mine made me drop my arm again. There -was a speechless, breathless, frantic joy in it, that made all the blood -in my veins stand still in a moment. - -“Out with it!” I said. “Man alive, out with it, for God’s sake!” - -His breath beat on my cheek in hot, quick, heavy gasps; but he could not -utter a word. For a moment he let go of the mast (tightening his hold on -me with the other arm) and pointed out westward—then slid heavily down on -to the thwart behind us. - -I looked westward, and saw that one of the two trustworthy men whom I had -left at the helm was on his feet looking out westward, too. As the boat -rose, I fixed my eyes on the strip of clear greenish sky in the west, and -on the bright line of the sea just under it. The boat dipped again before -I could see anything. I squeezed my eyelids together to get the water out -of them, and when we rose again looked straight into the middle of the -bright sea-line. My heart bounded as if it would choke me—my tongue felt -like a cinder in my mouth—my knees gave way under me—I dropped down on to -the thwart, and sobbed out, with a great effort, as if I had been dumb -for weeks before, and had only that instant found my speech: - -“A sail! a sail!” - -The words were instantly echoed by the man in the stern-sheets. - -“Sail, ho!” he screeches out, turning round on me and swinging his arms -about his head like a madman. - -This made three of our company who had seen the ship already, and that -one fact was sufficient to remove all dread lest our eyes might have been -deceiving us. The great fear now was, not that we were deluded, but that -we might come to some serious harm through the excess of joy among the -people; that is to say, among such of the people as still had the sense -to feel and the strength to express what they felt. I must record in -my own justification, after confessing that I lost command over myself -altogether on the discovery of the sail, that I was the first who set -the example of self-control. I was in a manner forced to this by the crew -frantically entreating me to lay-to until we could make out what course -the ship was steering—a proceeding which, with the sea then running, with -the heavy lading of the boat, and with such feeble substitutes for mast -and sail as we possessed, must have been attended with total destruction -to us all. I tried to remind the men of this, but they were in such a -transport—hugging each other round the neck, and crying and laughing all -in a breath—that they were not fit to listen to reason. Accordingly, I -myself went to the helm again, and chose the steadiest of my two men in -the after-part of the boat, as a guard over the sheet, with instructions -to use force, if necessary, toward any one who stretched out so much as a -finger to it. The wind was rising every minute, and we had nothing for it -but to scud, and be thankful to God’s mercy that we had sea-room to do it -in. - -“It will be dark in an hour’s time, sir,” says the man left along with -me when I took the helm again. “We have no light to show. The ship will -pass us in the night. Lay-to, sir! For the love of Heaven, give us all -a chance, and lay-to!” says he, and goes down on his knees before me, -wringing his hands. - -“Lay-to!” says I. “Lay-to, under a coat! Lay-to, in a boat like this, -with the wind getting up a gale! A seaman like you talk in that way! Who -have I got along here with me? Sailors who know their craft, or a pack of -’longshore lubbers, who ought to be turned adrift in a ferry-boat on a -pond?” My heart was heavy enough, God knows, but I spoke out as loud as I -could, in that light way, to try and shame the men back to their proper -senses. I succeeded at least in restoring silence; and that was something -in such a condition as ours. - -My next anxiety was to know if the men in the Surf-boat had sighted the -sail to the westward. She was still driving ahead of us, and the first -time I saw her rise on the waves, I made out a signal on board—a strip -of cloth fastened to a boat-hook. I ordered the man by my side to return -it with his jacket tied on to the end of the oar; being anxious to see -whether his agitation had calmed down and left him fit for his duty -again. He followed my direction steadily and when he got his jacket on -again, asked me to pardon him for losing his self-command, in a quiet, -altered voice. - -I shook hands with him, and gave him the helm, in proof that my -confidence was restored; then stood up and turned my face to the westward -once again. I looked long into the belt of clear sky, which was narrowing -already as the cloud-bank above sank over it. I looked with all my heart -and soul and strength. It was only when my eyes could stand the strain on -them no longer, that I gave in, and sat down again by the tiller. If I -had not been supported by a firm trust in the mercy of Providence, which -had preserved us thus far, I am afraid I should have abandoned myself at -that trying time to downright hopeless, speechless despair. - -It would not express much to any but seafaring readers if I mentioned -the number of leagues off that I considered the ship to be. I shall give -a better idea of the terrible distance there was between us, when I say -that no landsman’s eye could have made her out at all, and that none of -us sailors could have seen her but for the bright opening in the sky, -which made even a speck on the waters visible to a mariner’s experienced -sight all that weary way off. When I have said this, I have said enough -to render it plain to every man’s understanding that it was a sheer -impossibility to make out what course the ship was steering, seeing that -we had no chance of keeping her in view at that closing time of day for -more than another half-hour, at most. There she was, astern to leeward -of us; and here were we, driving for our lives before the wind, with any -means of kindling a light that we might have possessed on leaving our -ship, wetted through long ago—with no guns to fire as signals of distress -in the darkness—and with no choice, if the wind shifted, but still to -scud in any direction in which it might please to drive us. Supposing, -even at the best, that the ship was steering on our course, and would -overhaul us in the night, what chance had we of making our position known -to her in the darkness? Truly, look at it anyhow we might from our poor -mortal point of view, our prospect of deliverance seemed to be of the -most utterly hopeless kind that it is possible to conceive. - -The men felt this bitterly, as the cloud-bank dropped to the verge of the -waters, and the sun set redly behind it. The moaning and lamenting among -them was miserable to hear, when the last speck and phantom of the ship -had vanished from view. Some few still swore they saw her when there was -hardly a flicker of light left in the west, and only gave up looking out, -and dropped down in the boat, at my express orders. I charged them all -solemnly to set an example of courage to the passengers, and to trust -the rest to the infinite wisdom and mercy of the Creator of us all. Some -murmured, some fell to repeating scraps out of the Bible and Prayer-Book, -some wandered again in their minds. This went on till the darkness -gathered—then a great hush of silence fell drearily over passengers and -crew; and the waves and the wind hissed and howled about us, as if we -were tossing in the midst of them, a boat-load of corpses already! - -Twice in the fore-part of the night the clouds overhead parted for a -little, and let the blessed moonlight down upon us. On the first of -those occasions, I myself served out the last drops of fresh water we -had left. The two women—poor suffering creatures!—were past drinking. -Miss Coleshaw shivered a little when I moistened her lips with the water; -and Mrs. Atherfield, when I did the same for her, drew her breath with a -faint, fluttering sigh, which was just enough to show that she was not -dead yet. The captain still lay as he had lain ever since I got on board -the boat. The others, both passengers and crew, managed for the most -part to swallow their share of the water—the men being just sufficiently -roused by it to get up on their knees, while the moonlight lasted, and -look about wildly over the ocean for a chance of seeing the ship again. -When the clouds gathered once more, they crouched back in their places -with a long groan of despair. Hearing that, and dreading the effect of -the pitchy darkness (to say nothing of the fierce wind and sea) on their -sinking spirits, I resolved to combat their despondency, if it were still -possible to contend against it, by giving them something to do. First -telling them that no man could say at what time of the night the ship -(in case she was steering our course) might forge ahead of us, or how -near she might be when she passed, I recommended that all who had the -strength should join their voices at regular intervals, and shout their -loudest when the boat rose highest on the waves, on the chance of that -cry of distress being borne by the wind within hearing of the watch on -board the ship. It is unnecessary to say that I knew well how near it was -to an absolute impossibility that this last feeble exertion on our parts -could lead to any result. I only proposed it because I was driven to the -end of my resources to keep up the faintest flicker of spirit among the -men. They received my proposal with more warmth and readiness than I had -ventured, in their hopeless state, to expect from them. Up to the turn -of midnight they resolutely raised their voices with me, at intervals of -from five to ten minutes, whenever the boat was tossed highest on the -waves. The wind seemed to whirl our weak cries savagely out of our mouths -almost before we could utter them. I, sitting astern in the boat, only -heard them, as it seemed, for something like an instant of time. But -even that was enough to make me creep all over—the cry was so forlorn -and fearful. Of all the dreadful sounds I had heard since the first -striking of the ship, that shrill wail of despair—rising on the wavetops, -one moment; whirled away the next, into the black night—was the most -frightful that entered my ears. There are times, even now, when it seems -to be ringing in them still. - -Whether our first gleam of moonshine fell upon old Mr. Rarx, while he -was sleeping, and helped to upset his weak brains altogether, is more -than I can say. But, for some reason or other, before the clouds parted -and let the light down on us for the second time, and while we were -driving along awfully through the blackest of the night, he stirred in -his place, and began rambling and raving again more vehemently than -ever. To hear him now—that is to say, as well as I could hear him for -the wind—he was still down in his gold-mine; but was laden so heavy with -his precious metal that he could not get out, and was in mortal peril of -being drowned by the water rising in the bottom of the shaft. So far, -his maundering attracted my attention disagreeably, and did no more. But -when he began—if I may say so—to take the name of the dear little dead -child in vain, and to mix her up with himself and his miserly greed of -gain, I got angry and called to the men forward to give him a shake and -make him hold his tongue. Whether any of them obeyed or not, I don’t -know—Mr. Rarx went on raving louder than ever. The shrill wind was now -hardly more shrill than he. He swore he saw the white frock of our poor -little lost pet fluttering in the daylight, at the top of the mine, and -he screamed out to her in a great fright that the gold was heavy, and the -water rising fast, and that she must come down as quick as lightning if -she meant to be in time to help them. I called again angrily to the men -to silence him; and just as I did so, the clouds began to part for the -second time, and the white tip of the moon grew visible. - -“There she is!” screeches Mr. Rarx; and I saw him by the faint light, -scramble on his knees in the bottom of the boat, and wave a ragged old -handkerchief up at the moon. - -“Pull him down!” I called out. “Down with him; and tie his arms and legs!” - -Of the men who could still move about, not one paid any attention to me. -They were all upon their knees again, looking out in the strengthening -moonlight for a sight of the ship. - -“Quick, Golden Lucy!” screams Mr. Rarx, and creeps under the thwarts -right forward into the bows of the boat. “Quick! my darling, my beauty, -quick! The gold is heavy, and the water rises fast! Come down and save -me, Golden Lucy! Let all the rest of the world drown, and save me! Me! -me! me! me!” - -He shouted these last words out at the top of his cracked, croaking -voice, and got on his feet, as I conjectured (for the coat we had spread -for a sail now hid him from me) in the bows of the boat. Not one of the -crew so much as looked round at him, so eagerly were their eyes seeking -for the ship. The man sitting by me was sunk in a deep sleep. If I had -left the helm for a moment in that wind and sea, it would have been the -death of every soul of us. I shouted desperately to the raving wretch to -sit down. A screech that seemed to cut the very wind in two answered me. -A huge wave tossed the boat’s head up wildly at the same moment. I looked -aside to leeward as the wash of the great roller swept by us, gleaming of -a lurid, bluish white in the moonbeams; I looked and saw, in one second -of time, the face of Mr. Rarx rush past on the wave, with the foam -seething in his hair and the moon shining in his eyes. Before I could -draw my breath he was a hundred yards astern of us, and the night and the -sea had swallowed him up and had hid his secret, which he had kept all -the voyage, from our mortal curiosity, for ever. - -“He’s gone! he’s drowned!” I shouted to the men forward. - -None of them took any notice; none of them left off looking out over the -ocean for a sight of the ship. Nothing that I could say on the subject of -our situation at that fearful time can, in my opinion, give such an idea -of the extremity and the frightfulness of it, as the relation of this one -fact. I leave it to speak by itself the sad and shocking truth, and pass -on gladly to the telling of what happened next, at a later hour of the -night. - -After the clouds had shut out the moon again, the wind dropped a little -and shifted a point or two, so as to shape our course nearer to the -eastward. How the hours passed after that, till the dawn came, is more -than I can tell. The nearer the time of daylight approached the more -completely everything seemed to drop out of my mind, except the one -thought of where the ship we had seen in the evening might be, when we -looked for her with the morning light. - -It came at last—that gray, quiet light which was to end all our -uncertainty; which was to show us if we were saved, or to warn us if -we were to prepare for death. With the first streak in the east, every -one of the boat’s company, excepting the sleeping and the senseless, -roused up and looked out in breathless silence upon the sea. Slowly and -slowly the daylight strengthened, and the darkness rolled off farther and -farther before it over the face of the waters. The first pale flush of -the sun flew trembling along the paths of light broken through the gray -wastes of the eastern clouds. We could look clearly—we could see far; and -there, ahead of us—O! merciful, bountiful providence of God!—there was -the ship! - -I have honestly owned the truth, and confessed to the human infirmity -under suffering of myself, my passengers, and my crew. I have earned, -therefore, as I would fain hope, the right to record it to the credit -of all, that the men, the moment they set eyes on the ship, poured out -their whole heart in humble thanksgiving to the Divine Mercy which had -saved them from the very jaws of death. They did not wait for me to bid -them do this; they did it of their own accord, in their own language, -fervently, earnestly, with one will and one heart. - - -SAFETY AT LAST - -We had hardly made the ship out—a fine brigantine, hoisting English -colors—before we observed that her crew suddenly hove her up in the wind. -At first we were at a loss to understand this; but as we drew nearer, we -discovered that she was getting the Surf-boat (which had kept ahead of us -all through the night) alongside of her, under the lee bow. My men tried -to cheer when they saw their companions in safety, but their weak cries -died away in tears and sobbing. - -In another half-hour we, too, were alongside of the brigantine. - -From this point I recollect nothing very distinctly. I remember faintly -many loud voices and eager faces—I remember fresh, strong, willing -fellows, with a color in their cheeks, and a smartness in their movements -that seemed quite preternatural to me at that time, hanging over us in -the rigging of the brigantine, and dropping down from her sides into -our boat—I remember trying with my feeble hands to help them in the -difficult and perilous task of getting the two poor women and the captain -on board—I remember one dark hairy giant of a man swearing that it was -enough to break his heart, and catching me in his arms like a child—and -from that moment I remember nothing more with the slightest certainty for -over a week of time. - -When I came to my own senses again, in my cot on board the brigantine, my -first inquiries were naturally for my fellow-sufferers. Two—a passenger -in the Long-boat, and one of the crew of the Surf-boat—had sunk in spite -of all the care that could be taken of them. The rest were likely, with -time and attention, to recover. Of those who have been particularly -mentioned in this narrative, Mrs. Atherfield had shown signs of rallying -the soonest; Miss Coleshaw, who had held out longer against exhaustion, -was now the slower to recover. Captain Ravender, though slowly mending, -was still not able to speak or to move in his cot without help. The -sacrifices for us all which this good man had so nobly undergone, not -only in the boat, but before that, when he had deprived himself of his -natural rest on the dark nights that preceded the wreck of the Golden -Mary, had sadly undermined his natural strength of constitution. He, -the heartiest of all, when we sailed from England, was now, through his -unwearying devotion to his duty and to us, the last to recover, the -longest to linger between life and death. - -My next questions (when they helped me on deck to get my first blessed -breath of fresh air) related to the vessel that had saved us. She was -bound to the Columbia River—a long way to the northward of the port for -which we had sailed in the Golden Mary. Most providentially for us, -shortly after we had lost sight of the brigantine in the shades of the -evening, she had been caught in a squall, and had sprung her foretopmast -badly. This accident had obliged them to lay-to for some hours, while -they did their best to secure the spar, and had warned them, when they -continued on their course, to keep the ship under easy sail through the -night. But for this circumstance we must, in all human probability, have -been too far astern when the morning dawned, to have had the slightest -chance of being discovered. - -Excepting always some of the stoutest of our men, the next of the -Long-boat’s company who was helped on deck was Mrs. Atherfield. Poor -soul! when she and I first looked at each other, I could see that her -heart went back to the early days of our voyage, when the Golden Lucy and -I used to have our game of hide-and-seek round the mast. She squeezed my -hand as hard as she could with her wasted trembling fingers, and looked -up piteously in my face, as if she would like to speak to little Lucy’s -playfellow, but dared not trust herself—then turned away quickly and laid -her head against the bulwarks, and looked out upon the desolate sea that -was nothing to her now but her darling’s grave. I was better pleased when -I saw her later in the day, sitting by Captain Ravender’s cot; for she -seemed to take comfort in nursing him. Miss Coleshaw soon afterwards got -strong enough to relieve her at this duty; and, between them, they did -the captain such a world of good, both in body and spirit, that he also -got strong enough before long to come on deck, and to thank me, in his -old, generous, self-forgetful way, for having done my duty—the duty which -I had learned how to do by his example. - -Hearing what our destination had been when we sailed from England, the -captain of the brigantine (who had treated us with the most unremitting -attention and kindness, and had been warmly seconded in his efforts -for our good by all the people under his command) volunteered to -go sufficiently out of his course to enable us to speak the first -Californian coasting-vessel sailing in the direction of San Francisco. We -were lucky in meeting with one of these sooner than we expected. Three -days after parting from the kind captain of the brigantine, we, the -surviving passengers and crew of the Golden Mary, touched the firm ground -once more, on the shores of California. - -We were hardly collected here before we were obliged to separate again. -Captain Ravender, though he was hardly yet in good traveling trim, -accompanied Mrs. Atherfield inland, to see her safe under her husband’s -protection. Miss Coleshaw went with them, to stay with Mrs. Atherfield -for a little while before she attempted to proceed with any matters of -her own which had brought her to this part of the world. The rest of us, -who were left behind with nothing particular to do until the captain’s -return, followed the passengers to the gold-diggings. Some few of us had -enough of the life there in a very short time. The rest seemed bitten by -old Mr. Rarx’s mania for gold, and insisted on stopping behind when Rames -and I proposed going back to the port. We two, and five of our steadiest -seamen, were all the officers and crew left to meet the captain on his -return from the inland country. - -He reported that he had left Mrs. Atherfield and Miss Coleshaw safe and -comfortable under Mr. Atherfield’s care. They sent affectionate messages -to all of us, and especially (I am proud to say) to me. After hearing -this good news, there seemed nothing better to do than to ship on board -the first vessel bound for England. There were plenty in port, ready to -sail and only waiting for the men belonging to them who had deserted to -the gold-diggings. We were all snapped up eagerly, and offered any rate -we chose to set on our services, the moment we made known our readiness -to ship for England—all, I ought to have said, except Captain Ravender, -who went along with us in the capacity of passenger only. - -Nothing of any moment occurred on the voyage back. The captain and I got -ashore at Gravesend safe and hearty, and went up to London as fast as the -train could carry us, to report the calamity that had occurred to the -owners of the Golden Mary. When that duty had been performed, Captain -Ravender went back to his own house at Poplar, and I traveled to the West -of England to report myself to my old father and mother. - -Here I might well end all these pages of writing; but I cannot refrain -from adding a few more sentences, to tell the reader what I am sure he -will be glad to hear. In the summer-time of this present year eighteen -hundred and fifty-six, I happened to be at New York, and having spare -time on my hands, and spare cash in my pocket, I walked into one of the -biggest and grandest of their ordinaries there, to have my dinner. I had -hardly sat down at table, before whom should I see opposite but Mrs. -Atherfield, as bright-eyed and pretty as ever, with a gentleman on her -right hand, and on her left—another Golden Lucy! Her hair was a shade or -two darker than the hair of my poor little pet of past sad times; but in -all other respects the living child reminded me so strongly of the dead, -that I quite started at the first sight of her. I could not tell if I was -to try, how happy we were after dinner, or how much we had to say to each -other. I was introduced to Mrs. Atherfield’s husband, and heard from him, -among other things, that Miss Coleshaw was married to her old sweetheart, -who had fallen into misfortunes and errors, and whom she was determined -to set right by giving him the great chance in life of getting a good -wife. They were settled in America, like Mr. and Mrs. Atherfield—these -last and the child being on their way, when I met them, to visit a friend -living in the northernmost part of the States. - -With the relation of this circumstance, and with my personal testimony to -the good health and spirits of Captain Ravender the last time I saw him, -ends all that I have to say in connection with the subject of the Wreck -of the Golden Mary, and the Great Deliverance of her People at Sea. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Charles Dickens (1812-1870) was a great English - novelist. When a mere boy he moved to London, where he afterward - lived and wrote. As a child he was neglected and his education was - limited. He first showed his ability to write when he became a - reporter for a London newspaper. Here his unusual powers of narration - and description brought him marked success in writing character - sketches, which he signed “Boz.” Before Dickens was thirty he was - the most popular writer in England. He attacked the cruelty and - stupidity with which the children of the poor were treated in English - schools; he opened the eyes of the people to the injustice that was - suffered by laborers and all poor people; he saw also, like Robert - Burns, the sincerity and simple happiness that often make the poor - more to be envied than the rich. No other novelist has invented so - many characters that seem flesh and blood; they appeal to us because - they are “folks,” not imaginary dwellers in an unreal world. You will - note this ability and the author’s rare power of telling a story, - as you read “The Wreck of the Golden Mary.” Dickens made two visits - to America, where he was received with great enthusiasm. His second - visit was made in 1867, when he gave public readings from his own - works. His vivid imagination and keen human sympathy give to his - writings a peculiar interest and charm. - - =Discussion.= 1. Has Dickens any purpose in writing this story, - except to interest and entertain? 2. Are you more interested in the - characters, or in the things that happen to them; that is, is this - tale a character study or a story of adventure? 3. Is it both? 4. - Does the story contain much conversation, or is it mainly narration? - 5. Are there many descriptions in it? 6. Are they descriptions of - nature, of people, or of events? 7. Read what you consider the finest - description. 8. What two persons tell the story? 9. Which makes the - more decided impression upon you? 10. How does Captain Ravender - describe himself? 11. Are his words in keeping with his education and - occupation—such as a self-educated, seafaring man would be likely - to use? 12. Select and read expressions which indicate that he is a - sailor and uses a sailor’s speech. 13. Name some of the Captain’s - characteristics and read passages to illustrate each. 14. Notice - that his character is revealed to us, (1) through his own words - in relating the story; (2) through what he does; (3) through the - conduct of others toward him; and (4) through the chief mate’s words. - Read lines to illustrate each. 15. Which of the other characters - is most interesting? 16. Select incidents which show the influence - upon others of the Captain’s cheerfulness, resourcefulness, - bravery, common-sense, and determination. 17. Do you think one of - the purposes Dickens had in writing this story may have been to - picture the influence of a brave, just, and generous spirit in such - adverse circumstances? 18. Pronounce the following: extraordinary; - calculations; sustenance. - - =Phrases= - - literal and metaphorical, 210, 2 - dangerous moment, 211, 18 - ship’s chronometer, 211, 28 - lucrative one, 212, 10 - tolerably correct, 214, 26 - hoist the signal, 214, 35 - curious inconsistency, 217, 15 - a block chafes, 219, 31 - frightful breach, 222, 2 - inner vortex, 224, 2 - tow-rope, 224, 29 - frugal manner, 226, 10 - circumstances appertaining, 226, 33 - great fortitude, 229, 10 - raging in imprecations, 229, 13 - past mustering, 232, 28 - to wear ship, 233, 33 - exhausting effects, 235, 12 - tossing abreast, 236, 6 - sobbing lamentation, 239, 1 - went maundering, 240, 28 - desolate seas, 243, 19 - instantly echoed, 246, 25 - entreating me to lay-to, 247, 2 - combat their despondency, 249, 33 - perilous task, 253, 21 - sprung her foretopmast, 254, 16 - unremitting attention, 255, 7 - traveling trim, 255, 18 - - - - -TALES FROM SHAKESPEARE - -[Illustration] - - -AS YOU LIKE IT - -CHARLES AND MARY LAMB - -During the time that France was divided into provinces (or dukedoms as -they were called) there reigned in one of these provinces an usurper, who -had deposed and banished his elder brother, the lawful duke. - -The duke, who was thus driven from his dominions, retired with a few -faithful followers to the forest of Arden; and here the good duke lived -with his loving friends, who had put themselves into a voluntary exile -for his sake, while their land and revenues enriched the false usurper; -and custom soon made the life of careless ease they led here more sweet -to them than the pomp and uneasy splendor of a courtier’s life. Here they -lived like the old Robin Hood of England, and to this forest many noble -youths daily resorted from the court, and did fleet the time carelessly, -as they did who lived in the golden age. In the summer they lay along -under the fine shade of the large forest trees, marking the playful -sports of the wild deer; and so fond were they of these poor dappled -fools, who seemed to be the native inhabitants of the forest, that it -grieved them to be forced to kill them to supply themselves with venison -for their food. When the cold winds of winter made the duke feel the -change of his adverse fortune, he would endure it patiently, and say, -“These chilling winds which blow upon my body are true counselors; they -do not flatter, but represent truly to me my condition; and though they -bite sharply, their tooth is nothing like so keen as that of unkindness -and ingratitude. I find that howsoever men speak against adversity, yet -some sweet uses are to be extracted from it; like the jewel, precious -for medicine, which is taken from the head of the venomous and despised -toad.” In this manner did the patient duke draw a useful moral from -everything that he saw; and by the help of this moralizing turn, in that -life of his, remote from public haunts, he could find tongues in trees, -books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything. - -The banished duke had an only daughter, named Rosalind; whom the usurper, -Duke Frederick, when he banished her father, still retained in his court -as a companion for his own daughter Celia. A strict friendship subsisted -between these ladies, which the disagreement between their fathers did -not in the least interrupt, Celia striving by every kindness in her -power to make amends to Rosalind for the injustice of her own father -in deposing the father of Rosalind; and whenever the thoughts of her -father’s banishment, and her own dependence on the false usurper, made -Rosalind melancholy, Celia’s whole care was to comfort and console her. - -One day, when Celia was talking in her usual kind manner to Rosalind, -saying, “I pray you, Rosalind, my sweet cousin, be merry,” a messenger -entered from the duke, to tell them that if they wished to see a -wrestling match, which was just going to begin, they must come instantly -to the court before the palace; and Celia, thinking it would amuse -Rosalind, agreed to go and see it. - -In those times wrestling, which is only practiced now by country clowns, -was a favorite sport even in the courts of princes, and before fair -ladies and princesses. To this wrestling match, therefore, Celia and -Rosalind went. They found that it was likely to prove a very tragical -sight; for a large and powerful man who had been long practiced in the -art of wrestling, and had slain many men in contests of this kind, was -just going to wrestle with a very young man, who, from his extreme youth -and inexperience in the art, the beholders all thought would certainly be -killed. - -When the duke saw Celia and Rosalind, he said, “How now, daughter and -niece, are you crept hither to see the wrestling? You will take little -delight in it, there is such odds in the men; in pity to this young man, -I would wish to persuade him from wrestling. Speak to him, ladies, and -see if you can not move him.” - -The ladies were well pleased to perform this humane office, and first -Celia entreated the young stranger that he would desist from the -attempt; and then Rosalind spoke so kindly to him, and with such feeling -consideration for the danger he was about to undergo, that instead of -being persuaded by her gentle words to forego his purpose, all his -thoughts were bent to distinguish himself by his courage in this lovely -lady’s eyes. He refused the request of Celia and Rosalind in such -graceful and modest words, that they felt still more concern for him; -he concluded his refusal with saying, “I am sorry to deny such fair and -excellent ladies anything. But let your fair eyes and gentle wishes go -with me to my trial, wherein if I be conquered there is one shamed that -was never gracious; if I am killed, there is one dead that is willing to -die; I shall do my friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me; the -world no injury, for in it I have nothing; for I only fill up a place in -the world which may be better supplied when I have made it empty.” - -And now the wrestling match began. Celia wished the young stranger might -not be hurt; but Rosalind felt most for him. The friendless state which -he said he was in, and that he wished to die, made Rosalind think that he -was like herself, unfortunate; and she pitied him so much, and so deep an -interest she took in his danger while he was wrestling, that she might -almost be said at that moment to have fallen in love with him. - -The kindness shown this unknown youth by these fair and noble ladies gave -him courage and strength, so that he performed wonders; and in the end -completely conquered his antagonist, who was so much hurt, that for a -while he was unable to speak or move. - -The Duke Frederick was much pleased with the courage and skill shown by -this young stranger; and desired to know his name and parentage, meaning -to take him under his protection. - -The stranger said his name was Orlando, and that he was the youngest son -of Sir Rowland de Boys. - -Sir Rowland de Boys, the father of Orlando, had been dead some years; but -when he was living, he had been a true subject and dear friend of the -banished duke; therefore, when Frederick heard Orlando was the son of his -banished brother’s friend, all his liking for this brave young man was -changed into displeasure, and he left the place in very ill humor. Hating -to hear the very name of any of his brother’s friends, and yet still -admiring the valor of the youth, he said, as he went out, that he wished -Orlando had been the son of any other man. - -Rosalind was delighted to hear that her new favorite was the son of her -father’s old friend; and she said to Celia, “My father loved Sir Rowland -de Boys, and if I had known this young man was his son, I would have -added tears to my entreaties before he should have ventured.” - -The ladies then went up to him; and seeing him abashed by the sudden -displeasure shown by the duke, they spoke kind and encouraging words to -him; and Rosalind, when they were going away, turned back to speak some -more civil things to the brave young son of her father’s old friend; and -taking a chain from off her neck, she said, “Gentleman, wear this for -me. I am out of suits with fortune, or I would give you a more valuable -present.” - -When the ladies were alone, Rosalind’s talk being still of Orlando, Celia -began to perceive her cousin had fallen in love with the handsome young -wrestler, and she said to Rosalind, “Is it possible you should fall in -love so suddenly?” Rosalind replied, “The duke, my father, loved his -father dearly.” “But,” said Celia, “does it therefore follow that you -should love his son dearly? for then I ought to hate him, for my father -hated his father; yet I do not hate Orlando.” - -Frederick being enraged at the sight of Sir Rowland de Boys’ son, -which reminded him of the many friends the banished duke had among the -nobility, and having been for some time displeased with his niece, -because the people praised her for her virtues and pitied her for her -good father’s sake, his malice suddenly broke out against her; and while -Celia and Rosalind were talking of Orlando, Frederick entered the room, -and with looks full of anger ordered Rosalind instantly to leave the -palace, and follow her father into banishment; telling Celia, who in vain -pleaded for her, that he had only suffered Rosalind to stay upon her -account. “I did not then,” said Celia, “entreat you to let her stay, for -I was too young at that time to value her; but now that I know her worth, -and that we so long have slept together, risen at the same instant, -learned, played, and eaten together, I cannot live out of her company.” -Frederick replied, “She is too subtle for you; her smoothness, her very -silence, and her patience speak to the people, and they pity her. You -are a fool to plead for her, for you will seem more bright and virtuous -when she is gone; therefore open not your lips in her favor, for the doom -which I have passed upon her is irrevocable.” - -When Celia found she could not prevail upon her father to let Rosalind -remain with her, she generously resolved to accompany her; and leaving -her father’s palace that night, she went along with her friend to seek -Rosalind’s father, the banished duke, in the forest of Arden. - -Before they set out, Celia considered that it would be unsafe for two -young ladies to travel in the rich clothes they then wore; she therefore -proposed that they should disguise their rank by dressing themselves like -country maids. Rosalind said it would be a still greater protection if -one of them was to be dressed like a man; and so it was quickly agreed on -between them, that as Rosalind was the taller, she should wear the dress -of a young countryman, and Celia should be habited like a country lass, -and that they should say they were brother and sister, and Rosalind said -she would be called Ganymede, and Celia chose the name of Aliena. - -In this disguise, and taking their money and jewels to defray their -expenses, these fair princesses set out on their long travel; for the -forest of Arden was a long way off, beyond the boundaries of the duke’s -dominions. - -The lady Rosalind (or Ganymede as she must now be called) with her manly -garb seemed to have put on a manly courage. The faithful friendship Celia -had shown in accompanying Rosalind so many weary miles, made the new -brother, in recompense for this true love, exert a cheerful spirit, as -if he were indeed Ganymede, the rustic and stout-hearted brother of the -gentle village maiden, Aliena. - -When at last they came to the forest of Arden, they no longer found the -convenient inns and good accommodations they had met with on the road; -and being in want of food and rest, Ganymede, who had so merrily cheered -his sister with pleasant speeches and happy remarks all the way, now -owned to Aliena that he was so weary, he could find in his heart to -disgrace his man’s apparel, and cry like a woman; and Aliena declared -she could go no farther; and then again Ganymede tried to recollect -that it was a man’s duty to comfort and console a woman, as the weaker -vessel; and to seem courageous to his new sister, he said, “Come, have -a good heart, my sister Aliena; we are now at the end of our travel, in -the forest of Arden.” But feigned manliness and forced courage would no -longer support them; for though they were in the forest of Arden, they -knew not where to find the duke; and here the travel of these weary -ladies might have come to a sad conclusion, for they might have lost -themselves and perished for want of food; but providentially, as they -were sitting on the grass, almost dying with fatigue and hopeless of any -relief, a countryman chanced to pass that way, and Ganymede once more -tried to speak with a manly boldness, saying, “Shepherd, if love or gold -can in this desert place procure us entertainment, I pray you bring us -where we may rest ourselves; for this young maid, my sister, is much -fatigued with traveling, and faints for want of food.” - -The man replied that he was only a servant to a shepherd, and that his -master’s house was just going to be sold, and therefore they would find -but poor entertainment; but that if they would go with him, they should -be welcome to what there was. They followed the man, the near prospect -of relief giving them fresh strength; and bought the house and sheep of -the shepherd, and took the man who conducted them to the shepherd’s house -to wait on them; and being by this means so fortunately provided with a -neat cottage, and well supplied with provisions, they agreed to stay here -till they could learn in what part of the forest the duke dwelt. - -When they were rested after the fatigue of their journey, they began to -like their new way of life, and almost fancied themselves the shepherd -and shepherdess they feigned to be; yet sometimes Ganymede remembered he -had once been the same lady Rosalind who had so dearly loved the brave -Orlando, because he was the son of old Sir Rowland, her father’s friend; -and though Ganymede thought that Orlando was many miles distant, even so -many weary miles as they had traveled, yet it soon appeared that Orlando -was also in the forest of Arden; and in this manner this strange event -came to pass. - -Orlando was the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys, who, when he died, -left him (Orlando being then very young) to the care of his eldest -brother Oliver, charging Oliver on his blessing to give his brother -a good education, and provide for him as became the dignity of their -ancient house. Oliver proved an unworthy brother; and disregarding the -commands of his dying father, he never put his brother to school, but -kept him at home untaught and entirely neglected. But in his nature -and in the noble qualities of his mind Orlando so much resembled his -excellent father, that without any advantages of education he seemed like -a youth who had been bred with the utmost care; and Oliver so envied the -fine person and dignified manners of his untutored brother, that at last -he wished to destroy him; and to effect this he set on people to persuade -him to wrestle with the famous wrestler, who, as has been before related, -had killed so many men. Now, it was this cruel brother’s neglect of him -which made Orlando say he wished to die, being so friendless. - -When, contrary to the wicked hopes he had formed, his brother proved -victorious, his envy and malice knew no bounds, and he swore he would -burn the chamber where Orlando slept. He was overheard making this vow -by one that had been an old and faithful servant to their father, and -that loved Orlando because he resembled Sir Rowland. This old man went -out to meet him when he returned from the duke’s palace, and when he saw -Orlando, the peril his dear young master was in made him break out into -these passionate exclamations: “O my gentle master, my sweet master, O -you memory of old Sir Rowland! why are you virtuous? why are you gentle, -strong, and valiant? and why would you be so fond to overcome the famous -wrestler? Your praise is come too swiftly home before you.” Orlando, -wondering what all this meant, asked him what was the matter. And then -the old man told him how his wicked brother, envying the love all people -bore him, and now hearing the fame he had gained by his victory in the -duke’s palace, intended to destroy him, by setting fire to his chamber -that night; and in conclusion, advised him to escape the danger he was in -by instant flight; and knowing Orlando had no money, Adam (for that was -the good old man’s name) had brought out with him his own little hoard, -and he said, “I have five hundred crowns, the thrifty hire I saved under -your father, and laid by to be provision for me when my old limbs should -become unfit for service; take that, and he that doth the ravens feed be -comfort to my age! Here is the gold; all this I give to you; let me be -your servant; though I look old I will do the service of a younger man -in all your business and necessities.” “O good old man!” said Orlando, -“how well appears in you the constant service of the old world! You are -not for the fashion of these times. We will go along together, and before -your youthful wages are spent, I shall light upon some means for both our -maintenance.” - -Together then this faithful servant and his loved master set out; and -Orlando and Adam traveled on, uncertain what course to pursue, till they -came to the forest of Arden, and there they found themselves in the -same distress for want of food that Ganymede and Aliena had been. They -wandered on, seeking some human habitation, till they were almost spent -with hunger and fatigue. Adam at last said, “O my dear master, I die for -want of food; I can go no farther!” He then laid himself down, thinking -to make that place his grave, and bade his dear master farewell. Orlando, -seeing him in this weak state, took his old servant up in his arms and -carried him under the shelter of some pleasant trees; and he said to him, -“Cheerly, old Adam, rest your weary limbs here awhile and do not talk of -dying!” - -Orlando then searched about to find some food, and he happened to arrive -at that part of the forest where the duke was; and he and his friends -were just going to eat their dinner, this royal duke being seated on the -grass, under no other canopy than the shady covert of some large trees. - -Orlando, whom hunger had made desperate, drew his sword, intending to -take their meat by force, and said, “Forbear and eat no more; I must -have your food!” The duke asked him if distress had made him so bold, -or if he were a rude despiser of good manners. On this Orlando said he -was dying with hunger; and then the duke told him he was welcome to sit -down and eat with them. Orlando hearing him speak so gently, put up his -sword, and blushed with shame at the rude manner in which he had demanded -their food. “Pardon me, I pray you,” said he; “I thought that all things -had been savage here, and therefore I put on the countenance of stern -command; but whatever men you are, that in this desert, under the shade -of melancholy boughs, lose and neglect the creeping hours of time; if -ever you have looked on better days; if ever you have been where bells -have knolled to church; if you have ever sat at any good man’s feast; if -ever from your eyelids you have wiped a tear, and know what it is to pity -or be pitied, may gentle speeches now move you to do me human courtesy!” -The duke replied, “True it is that we are men (as you say) who have seen -better days, and though we have now our habitation in this wild forest, -we have lived in towns and cities, and have with holy bell been knolled -to church, have sat at good men’s feasts, and from our eyes have wiped -the drops which sacred pity has engendered; therefore sit you down, and -take of our refreshments as much as will minister to your wants.” “There -is an old poor man,” answered Orlando, “who has limped after me many a -weary step in pure love, oppressed at once with two sad infirmities, age -and hunger; till he be satisfied, I must not touch a bit.” “Go, find -him out, and bring him hither,” said the duke; “we will forbear to eat -till you return.” Then Orlando went like a doe to find its fawn and give -it food; and presently returned, bringing Adam in his arms; and the duke -said, “Set down your venerable burthen; you are both welcome”; and they -fed the old man and cheered his heart, and he revived, and recovered his -health and strength again. - -The duke inquired who Orlando was; and when he found that he was the son -of his old friend, Sir Rowland de Boys, he took him under his protection, -and Orlando and his old servant lived with the duke in the forest. - -Orlando arrived in the forest not many days after Ganymede and Aliena -came there, and (as has been before related) bought the shepherd’s -cottage. - -Ganymede and Aliena were strangely surprised to find the name of Rosalind -carved on the trees, and love-sonnets, fastened to them, all addressed -to Rosalind; and while they were wondering how this could be, they met -Orlando, and they perceived the chain which Rosalind had given him about -his neck. - -Orlando little thought that Ganymede was the fair princess Rosalind, who, -by her noble condescension and favor, had so won his heart that he passed -his whole time in carving her name upon the trees, and writing sonnets -in praise of her beauty; but being much pleased with the graceful air of -this pretty shepherd-youth, he entered into conversation with him, and he -thought he saw a likeness in Ganymede to his beloved Rosalind, but that -he had none of the dignified deportment of that noble lady; for Ganymede -assumed the forward manners often seen in youths when they are between -boys and men, and with much archness and humor talked to Orlando of a -certain lover, “who,” said he, “haunts our forest, and spoils our young -trees with carving, ‘Rosalind,’ upon their barks; and he hangs odes upon -hawthorns and elegies on brambles, all praising this same Rosalind. If I -could find this lover, I would give him some good counsel that would soon -cure him of his love.” - -Orlando confessed that he was the fond lover of whom he spoke, and asked -Ganymede to give him the good counsel he talked of. The remedy Ganymede -proposed, and the counsel he gave him, was that Orlando should come every -day to the cottage where he and his sister Aliena dwelt. “And then,” said -Ganymede, “I will feign myself to be Rosalind, and you shall feign to -court me in the same manner as you would do if I was Rosalind, and then I -will imitate the fantastic ways of whimsical ladies to their lovers, till -I make you ashamed of your love; and this is the way I propose to cure -you.” Orlando had no great faith in the remedy, yet he agreed to come -every day to Ganymede’s cottage, and feign a playful courtship; and every -day Orlando visited Ganymede and Aliena, and Orlando called the shepherd -Ganymede his Rosalind, and every day talked over all the fine words and -flattering compliments which young men delight to use when they court -their mistresses. It does not appear, however, that Ganymede made any -progress in curing Orlando of his love for Rosalind. - -Though Orlando thought all this was but a sportive play (not dreaming -that Ganymede was his very Rosalind), yet the opportunity it gave him of -saying all the fond things he had in his heart, pleased his fancy almost -as well as it did Ganymede’s, who enjoyed the secret jest in knowing -these fine love-speeches were all addressed to the right person. - -In this manner many days passed pleasantly on with these young people; -and the good-natured Aliena, seeing it made Ganymede happy, let him have -his own way, and was diverted at the mock-courtship, and did not care to -remind Ganymede that the lady Rosalind had not yet made herself known to -the duke her father, whose place of resort in the forest they had learnt -from Orlando. Ganymede met the duke one day, and had some talk with him, -and the duke asked of what parentage he came. Ganymede answered that -he came of as good parentage as he did, which made the duke smile, for -he did not suspect the pretty shepherd-boy came of royal lineage. Then -seeing the duke look well and happy, Ganymede was content to put off all -further explanation for a few days longer. - -One morning, as Orlando was going to visit Ganymede, he saw a man lying -asleep on the ground, and a large green snake had twisted itself -about his neck. The snake, seeing Orlando approach, glided away among -the bushes. Orlando went nearer, and then he discovered a lioness lie -crouching, with her head on the ground, with a cat-like watch, waiting -until the sleeping man awaked (for it is said that lions will prey on -nothing that is dead or sleeping). It seemed as if Orlando was sent by -Providence to free the man from the danger of the snake and lioness; but -when Orlando looked in the man’s face, he perceived that the sleeper who -was exposed to this double peril, was his own brother Oliver, who had so -cruelly used him, and had threatened to destroy him by fire; and he was -almost tempted to leave him a prey to the hungry lioness; but brotherly -affection and the gentleness of his nature soon overcame his first anger -against his brother; and he drew his sword, and attacked the lioness, and -slew her, and thus preserved his brother’s life both from the venomous -snake and from the furious lioness; but before Orlando could conquer the -lioness, she had torn one of his arms with her sharp claws. - -While Orlando was engaged with the lioness, Oliver awaked, and perceiving -that his brother Orlando, whom he had so cruelly treated, was saving him -from the fury of a wild beast at the risk of his own life, shame and -remorse at once seized him, and he repented of his unworthy conduct, and -besought with many tears his brother’s pardon for the injuries he had -done him. Orlando rejoiced to see him so penitent, and readily forgave -him; they embraced each other; and from that hour Oliver loved Orlando -with a true brotherly affection, though he had come to the forest bent on -his destruction. - -The wound in Orlando’s arm having bled very much, he found himself too -weak to go to visit Ganymede, and therefore he desired his brother to -go and tell Ganymede, “whom,” said Orlando, “I in sport do call my -Rosalind,” the accident which had befallen him. - -Thither then Oliver went, and told to Ganymede and Aliena how Orlando had -saved his life; and when he had finished the story of Orlando’s bravery, -and his own providential escape, he owned to them that he was Orlando’s -brother, who had so cruelly used him; and then he told them of their -reconciliation. - -The sincere sorrow that Oliver expressed for his offenses made such a -lively impression on the kind heart of Aliena, that she instantly fell -in love with him; and Oliver observing how much she pitied the distress -he told her he felt for his fault, he as suddenly fell in love with her. -But while love was thus stealing into the hearts of Aliena and Oliver, -he was no less busy with Ganymede, who hearing of the danger Orlando -had been in, and that he was wounded by the lioness, fainted; and when -he recovered, he pretended that he had counterfeited the swoon in the -imaginary character of Rosalind, and Ganymede said to Oliver, “Tell your -brother Orlando how well I counterfeited a swoon.” But Oliver saw by the -paleness of his complexion that he did really faint, and much wondering -at the weakness of the young man, he said, “Well, if you did counterfeit, -take a good heart, and counterfeit to be a man.” “So I do,” replied -Ganymede, truly, “but I should have been a woman by right.” - -Oliver made this visit a very long one, and when at last he returned back -to his brother, he had much news to tell him; for besides the account -of Ganymede’s fainting at the hearing that Orlando was wounded, Oliver -told him how he had fallen in love with the fair shepherdess Aliena, and -that she had lent a favorable ear to his suit, even in this their first -interview; and he talked to his brother, as of a thing almost settled, -that he should marry Aliena, saying, that he so well loved her, that he -would live here as a shepherd, and settle his estate and house at home -upon Orlando. - -“You have my consent,” said Orlando. “Let your wedding be tomorrow, and -I will invite the duke and his friends. Go and persuade your shepherdess -to agree to this; she is now alone; for look, here comes her brother.” -Oliver went to Aliena; and Ganymede, whom Orlando had perceived -approaching, came to inquire after the health of his wounded friend. - -When Orlando and Ganymede began to talk over the sudden love which had -taken place between Oliver and Aliena, Orlando said he had advised his -brother to persuade his fair shepherdess to be married on the morrow, and -then he added how much he could wish to be married on the same day to his -Rosalind. - -Ganymede, who well approved of this arrangement, said that if Orlando -really loved Rosalind as well as he professed to do, he should have his -wish; for on the morrow he would engage to make Rosalind appear in her -own person, and also that Rosalind should be willing to marry Orlando. - -This seemingly wonderful event, which, as Ganymede was the lady Rosalind, -he could so easily perform, he pretended he would bring to pass by the -aid of magic, which he said he had learnt of an uncle who was a famous -magician. - -The fond lover Orlando, half believing and half doubting what he heard, -asked Ganymede if he spoke in sober meaning. “By my life I do,” said -Ganymede; “therefore put on your best clothes, and bid the duke and your -friends to your wedding; for if you desire to be married tomorrow to -Rosalind, she shall be here.” - -The next morning, Oliver having obtained the consent of Aliena, they came -into the presence of the duke, and with them also came Orlando. - -They being all assembled to celebrate this double marriage, and as -yet only one of the brides appearing, there was much of wondering and -conjecture, but they mostly thought that Ganymede was making a jest of -Orlando. - -The duke, hearing that it was his own daughter that was to be brought in -this strange way, asked Orlando if he believed the shepherd-boy could -really do what he had promised; and while Orlando was answering that -he knew not what to think, Ganymede entered, and asked the duke, if he -brought his daughter, whether he would consent to her marriage with -Orlando. “That I would,” said the duke, “if I had kingdoms to give with -her.” Ganymede then said to Orlando, “And you say you will marry her if -I bring her here?” “That I would,” said Orlando, “if I were king of many -kingdoms.” - -Ganymede and Aliena then went out together, and Ganymede throwing -off his male attire, and being once more dressed in woman’s apparel, -quickly became Rosalind without the power of magic; and Aliena changing -her country garb for her own rich clothes, was with as little trouble -transformed into the lady Celia. - -While they were gone, the duke said to Orlando, that he thought the -shepherd Ganymede very like his daughter Rosalind; and Orlando said, he -also had observed the resemblance. - -They had no time to wonder how all this would end, for Rosalind and Celia -in their own clothes entered; and no longer pretending that it was by the -power of magic that she came there, Rosalind threw herself on her knees -before her father, and begged his blessing. It seemed so wonderful to -all present that she should so suddenly appear, that it might well have -passed for magic; but Rosalind would no longer trifle with her father, -and told him the story of her banishment, and of her dwelling in the -forest as a shepherd-boy, her cousin Celia passing as her sister. - -The duke ratified the consent he had already given to the marriage; and -Orlando and Rosalind, Oliver and Celia, were married at the same time. -And though their wedding could not be celebrated in this wild forest with -any of the parade or splendor usual on such occasions, yet a happier -wedding-day was never passed; and while they were eating their venison -under the cool shade of the pleasant trees, as if nothing should be -wanting to complete the felicity of this good duke and the true lovers, -an unexpected messenger arrived to tell the duke the joyful news, that -his dukedom was restored to him. - -The usurper, enraged at the flight of his daughter Celia, and hearing -that every day men of great worth resorted to the forest of Arden to join -the lawful duke in his exile, much envying that his brother should be so -highly respected in his adversity, put himself at the head of a large -force, and advanced toward the forest, intending to seize his brother, -and put him with all his faithful followers to the sword; but, by a -wonderful interposition of Providence, this bad brother was converted -from his evil intention; for just as he entered the skirts of the wild -forest, he was met by an old religious man, a hermit, with whom he had -much talk, and who in the end completely turned his heart from his -wicked design. Thenceforward he became a true penitent, and resolved, -relinquishing his unjust dominion, to spend the remainder of his days in -a religious house. The first act of his newly-conceived penitence was to -send a messenger to his brother (as has been related) to offer to restore -to him his dukedom, which he had usurped so long, and with it the lands -and revenues of his friends, the faithful followers of his adversity. - -This joyful news, as unexpected as it was welcome, came opportunely to -heighten the festivity and rejoicings at the wedding of the princesses. -Celia complimented her cousin on this good fortune which had happened to -the duke, Rosalind’s father, and wished her joy very sincerely, though -she herself was no longer heir to the dukedom, but by this restoration -which her father had made, Rosalind was now the heir; so completely was -the love of these two cousins unmixed with anything of jealousy or of -envy. - -The duke had now an opportunity of rewarding those true friends who had -stayed with him in his banishment; and these worthy followers, though -they had patiently shared his adverse fortune, were very well pleased to -return in peace and prosperity to the palace of their lawful duke. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Charles Lamb (1775-1834) was an English writer who - spent his entire life in London. He was a classmate of the poet - Coleridge. His father was a clerk in a lawyer’s office, and Charles - was an accountant until he was fifty years of age. He was, however, - a great reader and spent his hours of leisure at the bookstalls and - printshops or at home reading with his sister Mary. He and Mary - wrote _Tales from Shakespeare_, giving the story or plot of many of - Shakespeare’s plays. In a letter to his friend Mr. Manning, Lamb - said of his sister: “She is doing for Godwin’s bookseller twenty - of Shakespeare’s plays, to be made into children’s tales. Six are - already done by her: _The Tempest_, _Winter’s Tale_, _Midsummer - Night_, _Much Ado_, _Two Gentlemen of Verona_, and _Cymbeline;_ and - the _Merchant of Venice_ is in forwardness. I have done _Othello_ - and _Macbeth_, and mean to do all the tragedies. I think it will be - popular among the little people, besides money. It is to bring in - sixty guineas. Mary has done them capitally, I think you’d think.” - Lamb’s rich personality gave flavor and enduring fame to his writings. - - =Discussion.= 1. Be prepared to tell the story in the fewest possible - words. 2. Make an outline giving the principal events of the story. - 3. Note all that is said of the forest of Arden; where may such a - forest be found? 4. Is the forest described a real one? 5. What - impression of the elder duke’s character do you get from the story? - 6. What evidences of true friendship did Celia show? 7. Who are the - important characters? The most important? 8. Give your opinion of - these: Rosalind, Celia, Orlando. 9. Are the characters real and - lifelike or are they improbable? 10. What humorous situations do you - find? 11. Pronounce the following: haunts; wrestling; fatigue. - - =Phrases= - - usurper, who had deposed, 259, 3 - voluntary exile, 259, 8 - uneasy splendor, 259,11 - dappled fools, 259, 17 - adverse fortune, 260, 3 - humane office, 261, 11 - to forego his purpose, 261, 15 - malice suddenly broke, 263, 4 - defray their expenses, 263, 36 - recompense for this, 264, 6 - malice knew no bounds, 265, 36 - shady covert, 267,10 - sacred pity, 267, 33 - venerable burthen, 268, 5 - fantastic ways, 269, 6 - bent on his destruction, 270, 27 - counterfeited the swoon, 271, 9 - wondering and conjecture, 272, 20 - ratified the consent, 273, 12 - respected in his adversity, 273, 25 - wonderful interposition, 273, 28 - newly-conceived penitence, 273, 35 - - -THE TEMPEST - -CHARLES AND MARY LAMB - -There was a certain island in the sea, the only inhabitants of which were -an old man, whose name was Prospero, and his daughter Miranda, a very -beautiful young lady. She came to this island so young that she had no -memory of having seen any other human face than her father’s. - -They lived in a cave, or cell, made out of a rock; it was divided into -several apartments, one of which Prospero called his study; there he kept -his books, which chiefly treated of magic, a study at that time much -affected by all learned men. The knowledge of this art he found very -useful to him; for being thrown by a strange chance upon this island, -which had been enchanted by a witch called Sycorax, who died there a -short time before his arrival, Prospero, by virtue of his art, released -many good spirits that Sycorax had imprisoned in the bodies of large -trees, because they had refused to execute her wicked commands. These -gentle spirits were ever after obedient to the will of Prospero. Of these -Ariel was the chief. - -The lively little sprite Ariel had nothing mischievous in his nature, -except that he took rather too much pleasure in tormenting an ugly -monster called Caliban, for he owed him a grudge because he was the son -of his old enemy Sycorax. This Caliban, Prospero found in the woods, a -strange misshapen thing, far less human in form than an ape. He took -him home to his cell, and taught him to speak; and Prospero would have -been very kind to him, but the bad nature which Caliban inherited from -his mother Sycorax, would not let him learn anything good or useful; -therefore he was employed like a slave, to fetch wood, and do the most -laborious offices; and Ariel had the charge of compelling him to these -services. - -When Caliban was lazy and neglected his work, Ariel (who was invisible to -all eyes but Prospero’s) would come slyly and pinch him, and sometimes -tumble him down in the mire; and then Ariel, in the likeness of an -ape, would make mouths at him. Then swiftly changing his shape, in the -likeness of a hedgehog, he would lie tumbling in Caliban’s way, who -feared the hedgehog’s sharp quills would prick his bare feet. With a -variety of such-like vexatious tricks Ariel would often torment him, -whenever Caliban neglected the work which Prospero commanded him to do. - -Having these powerful spirits obedient to his will, Prospero could by -their means command the winds, and the waves of the sea. By his orders -they raised a violent storm, in the midst of which, and struggling with -the wild sea-waves that every moment threatened to swallow it up, he -showed his daughter a fine large ship, which he told her was full of -living beings like themselves. “O my dear father,” said she, “if by your -art you have raised this dreadful storm, have pity on their sad distress. -See! the vessel will be dashed to pieces. Poor souls! they will all -perish. If I had power, I would sink the sea beneath the earth, rather -than the good ship should be destroyed, with all the precious souls -within her.” - -“Be not so amazed, daughter Miranda,” said Prospero; “there is no harm -done. I have so ordered it, that no person in the ship shall receive any -hurt. What I have done has been in care of you, my dear child. You are -ignorant who you are, or where you came from, and you know no more of me -but that I am your father, and live in this poor cave. Can you remember a -time before you came to this cell? I think you cannot, for you were not -then three years of age.” - -“Certainly I can, sir,” replied Miranda. - -“By what?” asked Prospero; “by any other house or person? Tell me what -you can remember, my child.” - -Miranda said, “It seems to me like the recollection of a dream. But had I -not once four or five women who attended upon me?” - -Prospero answered, “You had, and more. How is it that this still lives in -your mind? Do you remember how you came here?” - -“No, sir,” said Miranda, “I remember nothing more.” - -“Twelve years ago, Miranda,” continued Prospero, “I was duke of Milan, -and you were a princess, and my only heir. I had a younger brother, whose -name was Antonio, to whom I trusted everything; and as I was fond of -retirement and deep study, I commonly left the management of my state -affairs to your uncle, my false brother (for so indeed he proved). I, -neglecting all worldly ends, buried among my books, did dedicate my -whole time to the bettering of my mind. My brother Antonio being thus -in possession of my power, began to think himself the duke indeed. The -opportunity I gave him of making himself popular among my subjects -awakened in his bad nature a proud ambition to deprive me of my dukedom; -this he soon effected with the aid of the king of Naples, a powerful -prince, who was my enemy.” - -“Wherefore,” said Miranda, “did they not that hour destroy us?” - -“My child,” answered her father, “they durst not, so dear was the love -that my people bore me. Antonio carried us on board a ship, and when we -were some leagues out at sea, he forced us into a small boat, without -either tackle, sail, or mast; there he left us, as he thought, to perish. -But a kind lord of my court, one Gonzalo, who loved me, had privately -placed in the boat, water, provisions, apparel, and some books which I -prize above my dukedom.” - -“O my father,” said Miranda, “what a trouble must I have been to you -then!” - -“No, my love,” said Prospero, “you were a little cherub that did preserve -me. Your innocent smiles made me bear up against my misfortunes. Our -food lasted till we landed on this desert island, since when my chief -delight has been in teaching you, Miranda, and well have you profited by -my instructions.” - -“Heaven thank you, my dear father,” said Miranda. “Now pray tell me, sir, -your reason for raising this sea-storm?” - -“Know then,” said her father, “that by means of this storm, my enemies, -the King of Naples and my cruel brother, are cast ashore upon this -island.” - -Having so said, Prospero gently touched his daughter with his magic -wand, and she fell fast asleep; for the spirit Ariel just then presented -himself before his master, to give an account of the tempest, and how he -had disposed of the ship’s company, and though the spirits were always -invisible to Miranda, Prospero did not choose she should hear him holding -converse (as would seem to her) with the empty air. - -“Well, my brave spirit,” said Prospero to Ariel, “how have you performed -your task?” - -Ariel gave a lively description of the storm, and of the terrors of the -mariners; and how the King’s son, Ferdinand, was the first who leaped -into the sea; and his father thought he saw his dear son swallowed up by -the waves and lost. “But he is safe,” said Ariel, “in a corner of the -isle, sitting with his arms folded, sadly lamenting the loss of the King, -his father, whom he concludes drowned. Not a hair of his head is injured, -and his princely garments, though drenched in the sea-waves, look fresher -than before.” - -“That’s my delicate Ariel,” said Prospero. “Bring him hither; my daughter -must see this young prince. Where is the King, and my brother?” - -“I left them,” answered Ariel, “searching for Ferdinand, whom they have -little hopes of finding, thinking they saw him perish. Of the ship’s crew -not one is missing; though each one thinks himself the only one saved; -and the ship, though invisible to them, is safe in the harbor.” - -“Ariel,” said Prospero, “thy charge is faithfully performed; but there is -more work yet.” - -“Is there more work?” said Ariel. “Let me remind you, master, you -have promised me my liberty. I pray remember I have done you worthy -service, told you no lies, made no mistakes, served you without grudge or -grumbling.” - -“How now!” said Prospero. “You do not recollect what a torment I freed -you from. Have you forgot the wicked witch Sycorax, who with age and envy -was almost bent double? Where was she born? Speak; tell me.” - -“Sir, in Algiers,” said Ariel. - -“O was she so?” said Prospero. “I must recount what you have been, which -I find you do not remember. This bad witch, Sycorax, for her witchcrafts, -too terrible to enter human hearing, was banished from Algiers, and -here left by the sailors; and because you were a spirit too delicate to -execute her wicked commands, she shut you up in a tree, where I found you -howling. This torment, remember, I did free you from.” - -“Pardon me, dear master,” said Ariel, ashamed to seem ungrateful; “I will -obey your commands.” - -“Do so,” said Prospero, “and I will set you free.” He then gave orders -what further he would have him do; and away went Ariel, first to where he -had left Ferdinand, and found him still sitting on the grass in the same -melancholy posture. - -“O my young gentleman,” said Ariel, when he saw him, “I will soon move -you. You must be brought, I find, for the Lady Miranda to have a sight of -your pretty person. Come, sir, follow me.” He then began singing, - - “Full fathom five thy father lies; - Of his bones are coral made; - Those are pearls that were his eyes. - Nothing of him that doth fade, - But doth suffer a sea-change - Into something rich and strange. - Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell; - Hark! now I hear them,—Ding-dong, bell.” - -This strange news of his lost father soon roused the prince from the -stupid fit into which he had fallen. He followed in amazement the sound -of Ariel’s voice, till it led him to Prospero and Miranda, who were -sitting under the shade of a large tree. Now Miranda had never seen a -man before, except her own father. - -“Miranda,” said Prospero, “tell me what you are looking at yonder.” - -“O father,” said Miranda, in a strange surprise, “surely that is a -spirit. Lord! how it looks about! Believe me, sir, it is a beautiful -creature. Is it not a spirit?” - -“No, girl,” answered her father; “it eats, and sleeps, and has senses -such as we have. This young man you see was in the ship. He is somewhat -altered by grief, or you might call him a handsome person. He has lost -his companions, and is wandering about to find them.” - -Miranda, who thought all men had grave faces and gray beards like her -father, was delighted with the appearance of this beautiful young prince; -and Ferdinand, seeing such a lovely lady in this desert place, and from -the strange sounds he had heard, expecting nothing but wonders, thought -he was upon an enchanted island, and that Miranda was the goddess of the -place, and as such he began to address her. - -She timidly answered, she was no goddess, but a simple maid, and was -going to give him an account of herself, when Prospero interrupted her. -He was well pleased to find they admired each other, for he plainly -perceived they had (as we say) fallen in love at first sight; but to try -Ferdinand’s constancy, he resolved to throw some difficulties in their -way; therefore advancing forward, he addressed the prince with a stern -air, telling him, he came to the island as a spy, to take it from him -who was the lord of it. “Follow me,” said he, “I will tie you neck and -feet together. You shall drink sea-water; shell-fish, withered roots, and -husks of acorns shall be your food.” “No,” said Ferdinand, “I will resist -such entertainment, till I see a more powerful enemy,” and drew his -sword; but Prospero, waving his magic wand, fixed him to the spot where -he stood, so that he had no power to move. - -Miranda hung upon her father, saying, “Why are you so ungentle? Have -pity, sir; I will be his surety. This is the second man I ever saw, and -to me he seems a true one.” - -“Silence,” said the father; “one word more will make me chide you, girl! -What! an advocate for an impostor! You think there are no more such fine -men, having seen only him and Caliban. I tell you, foolish girl, most -men as far excel this, as he does Caliban.” This he said to prove his -daughter’s constancy; and she replied, “My affections are most humble. I -have no wish to see a goodlier man.” - -“Come on, young man,” said Prospero to the Prince; “you have no power to -disobey me.” - -“I have not indeed,” answered Ferdinand; and not knowing that it was by -magic he was deprived of all power of resistance, he was astonished to -find himself so strangely compelled to follow Prospero; looking back on -Miranda as long as he could see her, he said, as he went after Prospero -into the cave, “My spirits are all bound up, as if I were in a dream; but -this man’s threats, and the weakness which I feel, would seem light to me -if from my prison I might once a day behold this fair maid.” - -Prospero kept Ferdinand not long confined within the cell; he soon -brought out his prisoner, and set him a severe task to perform, taking -care to let his daughter know the hard labor he had imposed on him, and -then pretending to go into his study, he secretly watched them both. - -Prospero had commanded Ferdinand to pile up some heavy logs of wood. -Kings’ sons not being much used to laborious work, Miranda soon after -found her lover almost dying with fatigue. “Alas!” said she, “do not work -so hard; my father is at his studies, he is safe for these three hours; -pray rest yourself.” - -“O my dear lady,” said Ferdinand, “I dare not. I must finish my task -before I take my rest.” - -“If you will sit down,” said Miranda, “I will carry your logs the while.” -But this Ferdinand would by no means agree to. Instead of a help Miranda -became a hindrance, for they began a long conversation, so that the -business of log-carrying went on very slowly. - -Prospero, who had enjoined Ferdinand this task merely as a trial of his -love, was not at his books, as his daughter supposed, but was standing by -them invisible, to overhear what they said. - -Ferdinand inquired her name, which she told, saying it was against her -father’s express command she did so. - -Prospero only smiled at this first instance of his daughter’s -disobedience, for having by his magic art caused his daughter to fall in -love so suddenly, he was not angry that she showed her love by forgetting -to obey his commands. And he listened well pleased to a long speech of -Ferdinand’s, in which he professed to love her above all the ladies he -ever saw. - -In answer to his praises of her beauty, which he said exceeded all the -women in the world, she replied, “I do not remember the face of any -woman, nor have I seen any more men than you, my good friend, and my dear -father. How features are abroad, I know not; but, believe me, sir, I -would not wish any companion in the world but you, nor can my imagination -form any shape but yours that I could like. But, sir, I fear I talk to -you too freely, and my father’s precepts I forget.” - -At this Prospero smiled, and nodded his head, as much as to say, “This -goes on exactly as I could wish; my girl will be Queen of Naples.” - -And then Ferdinand, in another fine long speech (for young princes speak -in courtly phrases), told the innocent Miranda he was heir to the crown -of Naples, and that she should be his Queen. - -“Ah! sir,” said she, “I am a fool to weep at what I am glad of. I will -answer you in plain and holy innocence. I am your wife if you will marry -me.” - -Prospero prevented Ferdinand’s thanks by appearing visible before them. - -“Fear nothing, my child,” said he; “I have overheard, and so approve of -all you have said. And, Ferdinand, if I have too severely used you, I -will make you rich amends, by giving you my daughter. All your vexations -were but trials of your love, and you have nobly stood the test. Then as -my gift, which your true love has worthily purchased, take my daughter, -and do not smile that I boast she is above all praise.” He then, telling -them that he had business which required his presence, desired they would -sit down and talk together till he returned; and this command Miranda -seemed not at all disposed to disobey. - -When Prospero left them, he called his spirit Ariel, who quickly appeared -before him, eager to relate what he had done with Prospero’s brother -and the King of Naples. Ariel said he had left them almost out of their -senses with fear, at the strange things he had caused them to see and -hear. When fatigued with wandering about, and famished for want of food, -he had suddenly set before them a delicious banquet, and then, just as -they were going to eat, he appeared visible before them in the shape of a -harpy, a voracious monster with wings, and the feast vanished away. Then, -to their utter amazement, this seeming harpy spoke to them, reminding -them of their cruelty in driving Prospero from his dukedom, and leaving -him and his infant daughter to perish in the sea; saying, that for this -cause these terrors were suffered to afflict them. - -The King of Naples, and Antonio, the false brother, repented the -injustice they had done to Prospero; and Ariel told his master he was -certain their penitence was sincere, and that he, though a spirit, could -not but pity them. - -“Then bring them hither, Ariel,” said Prospero; “if you, who are but a -spirit, feel for their distress, shall not I, who am a human being like -themselves, have compassion on them? Bring them, quickly, my dainty -Ariel.” - -Ariel soon returned with the King, Antonio, and old Gonzalo in their -train, who had followed him, wondering at the wild music he played in the -air to draw them on to his master’s presence. This Gonzalo was the same -who had so kindly provided Prospero formerly with books and provisions, -when his wicked brother left him, as he thought, to perish in an open -boat in the sea. - -Grief and terror had so stupefied their senses, that they did not know -Prospero. He first discovered himself to the good old Gonzalo, calling -him the preserver of his life; and then his brother and the King knew -that he was the injured Prospero. - -Antonio with tears, and sad words of sorrow and true repentance, implored -his brother’s forgiveness, and the King expressed his sincere remorse -for having assisted Antonio to depose his brother; and Prospero forgave -them; and, upon their engaging to restore his dukedom, he said to the -King of Naples, “I have a gift in store for you, too”; and opening a -door, showed him his son Ferdinand playing at chess with Miranda. - -Nothing could exceed the joy of the father and the son at this unexpected -meeting, for they each thought the other drowned in the storm. - -“O wonder!” said Miranda, “what noble creatures these are! It must surely -be a brave world that has such people in it.” - -The King of Naples was almost as much astonished at the beauty and -excellent graces of the young Miranda, as his son had been. “Who is this -maid?” said he; “she seems the goddess that has parted us, and brought -us thus together.” “No, sir,” answered Ferdinand, smiling to find his -father had fallen into the same mistake that he had done when he first -saw Miranda, “she is a mortal, but by immortal Providence she is mine; -I chose her when I could not ask you, my father, for your consent, not -thinking you were alive. She is the daughter to this Prospero, who is the -famous duke of Milan, of whose renown I have heard so much, but never saw -him till now; of him I have received a new life: he has made himself to -me a second father, giving me this dear lady.” - -“Then I must be her father,” said the King; “but oh! how oddly will it -sound, that I must ask my child forgiveness.” - -“No more of that,” said Prospero; “let us not remember our troubles -past, since they so happily have ended.” And then Prospero embraced his -brother, and again assured him of his forgiveness; and said that a wise -over-ruling Providence had permitted that he should be driven from his -poor dukedom of Milan, that his daughter might inherit the crown of -Naples, for that by their meeting in this desert island, it had happened -that the King’s son had loved Miranda. - -These kind words which Prospero spoke, meaning to comfort his brother, -so filled Antonio with shame and remorse, that he wept and was unable to -speak; and the kind old Gonzalo wept to see this joyful reconciliation, -and prayed for blessings on the young couple. - -Prospero now told them that their ship was safe in the harbor, and the -sailors all on board her, and that he and his daughter would accompany -them home the next morning. “In the meantime,” says he, “partake of -such refreshments as my poor cave affords; and for your evening’s -entertainment I will relate the history of my life from my first landing -in this desert island.” He then called for Caliban to prepare some food, -and set the cave in order; and the company were astonished at the uncouth -form and savage appearance of this ugly monster, who (Prospero said) was -the only attendant he had to wait upon him. - -Before Prospero left the island, he dismissed Ariel from his service, -to the great joy of that lively little spirit; who, though he had been -a faithful servant to his master, was always longing to enjoy his free -liberty, to wander uncontrolled in the air, like a wild bird, under green -trees, among pleasant fruits, and sweet-smelling flowers. “My quaint -Ariel,” said Prospero to the little sprite when he made him free, “I -shall miss you; yet you shall have your freedom.” “Thank you, my dear -master,” said Ariel; “but give me leave to attend your ship home with -prosperous gales, before you bid farewell to the assistance of your -faithful spirit; and then, master, when I am free, how merrily I shall -live!” Here Ariel sang this pretty song: - - “Where the bee sucks, there suck I; - In a cowslip’s bell I lie; - There I crouch when owls do cry. - On the bat’s back I do fly - After summer merrily. - Merrily, merrily shall I live now - Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.” - -Prospero then buried deep in the earth his magical books and wand, for -he was resolved never more to make use of the magic art. And having thus -overcome his enemies, and being reconciled to his brother and the King of -Naples, nothing now remained to complete his happiness, but to revisit -his native land, to take possession of his dukedom, and to witness the -happy nuptials of his daughter and Prince Ferdinand, which the King said -should be instantly celebrated with great splendor on their return to -Naples. At which place, under the safe convoy of the spirit Ariel, they, -after a pleasant voyage, soon arrived. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see Page 274. - - =Discussion.= 1. Make a list of the characters mentioned in the - story. 2. Which are the principal characters? 3. What was Prospero’s - purpose in raising a violent storm? 4. What tells you that it is a - magic storm? 5. Tell the story that Prospero told his daughter. 6. - Why is Miranda made to sleep? 7. What is the purpose of Ariel’s song? - 8. Compare the “love at first sight” of Miranda and Ferdinand with - that of Orlando and Rosalind in “As You Like It.” 9. Tell the story - of the reconciliation of Antonio and Prospero. 10. Repeat from memory - Ariel’s farewell song. 11. Which of the characters do you like best? - Why? 12. Mention humorous incidents in the story. 13. What is the - aptness of the song “Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind”? See page 84 in - this book. 14. In a few brief sentences tell the plot of the story. - 15. Pronounce the following: mischievous; heir; uncouth. - - =Phrases= - - much affected by learned men, 275, 9 - refused to execute, 275, 15 - owed him a grudge, 276, 1 - such-like vexatious tricks, 276, 17 - worldly ends, 277, 17 - dedicate my whole time, 277, 17 - holding converse, 278, 14 - lamenting the loss, 278, 23 - altered by grief, 280, 10 - advocate for an impostor, 281, 2 - power of resistance, 281, 11 - set him a severe task, 281, 19 - became a hindrance, 281, 32 - had enjoined, 281, 35 - father’s precepts, 282, 16 - penitence was sincere, 283, 19 - have compassion, 283, 23 - stupefied their senses, 283, 31 - engaging to restore, 284, 1 - uncouth form, 285, 8 - prosperous gales, 285, 19 - happy nuptials, 285, 35 - - - - -PART III - -IDEALS AND HEROES OF FREEDOM - - _“When a deed is done for Freedom, through the broad earth’s aching - breast_ - _Runs a thrill of joy prophetic, trembling on from east to west.”_ - - —James Russell Lowell. - -[Illustration: Copyright by M. G. Abbey (from a Copley Print, copyright -by Curtis & Cameron, Boston) - -THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE] - - - - -IDEALS AND HEROES OF FREEDOM - - -INTRODUCTION - - We must be free or die, who speak the tongue - That Shakespeare spake; the faith and morals hold - Which Milton held. In everything we are sprung - Of Earth’s first blood, have titles manifold. - - —Wordsworth. - -These lines remind us of the great inheritance, not alone of Englishmen -but of all who speak the English tongue, whether they live in the United -States or England, in Canada or in Australia. This inheritance is due to -the fact that English-speaking peoples govern themselves, that they were -the first to invent the means by which free government became possible. -It sometimes seems a simple thing, very much a matter of course, that in -America the rulers are all the people, who adopt the laws they desire; -who submit to rules of life because they themselves think these rules to -be wise, not because they are compelled to submit through the will of an -emperor. But in reality this free government, this democracy, has grown -very slowly, through centuries. It is an inheritance of freedom. - -The story of this inheritance is filled with deeds of heroes. These -heroes lived and died, not to win glory for themselves, but to win -freedom for their fellows. Sometimes they were English barons, daring to -defy a wicked king, and forcing him to sign a Great Charter that gave -them a share in the government. Sometimes they were the peasants seeking -the right to live more comfortably. Sometimes they were statesmen who -secured for Parliament the right to levy taxes and to be consulted about -the way England was to be ruled, and the right to drive a selfish tyrant -from the throne. And sometimes they were the farmers and village men -forming in battle line at Lexington and Concord. It is a long story that -you will read, in many places, not all of it at one time; but little by -little you will come to see what meaning lies in the simple words “our -inheritance of freedom,” and then you will be ready to give your time, -and if need be, your life, to keep this inheritance and to hand it on to -those who will speak the English tongue when you are dead. - -Only a few bits of the story can be given here. You will read something -about Scotland’s struggle for the right to be governed by her own people, -not by the tyrannical kings who then ruled England and who looked upon -Scotland as a mere province fit only to supply money for their selfish -desires. Next you will read several selections which show that the -tyranny against which Wallace and Bruce fought, like the tyranny against -which Warren and Washington and Patrick Henry fought, did not spring from -the English spirit, but from kings who tried to keep even Englishmen -in slavery. It is all one story—at one time the action takes place in -Scotland, at another in England, at still another time in America; but -the story is the story of our inheritance of freedom. - -“We must be free or die”—these words express the spirit of all who speak -the English tongue. The stories of Wallace and Bruce tell it. The story -of the last fight of the _Revenge_ tells it—a story written by the man -who first began to plant English colonies in America, and who helped -defend England against the tyranny which King Philip of Spain tried to -establish. The stories of the Gray Champion, and of Warren at Bunker -Hill, and of Patrick Henry of Virginia, and of Washington and Marion, are -also a part of the great story of our inheritance of freedom. - -You should keep this always in mind: the heroes who made good the -Declaration of Independence and set up a new and freer government in -America were men whose ideals of freedom came to them from England. -They did not fight against the English _people_. Their spirit was also -the fundamental English spirit. Many of the greatest Englishmen of -that period used every effort to win fair treatment for the colonies, -sympathized with their struggle for independence and rejoiced when at -last George III and his ministers were told that America would no longer -submit to oppression. - -One of the greatest of these Englishmen was Edmund Burke, who lived -in the time of George III and took the part of the colonies in their -struggle against the King’s tyranny. He worked for the repeal of the -taxation laws that so offended the Americans. He made many speeches in -Parliament and elsewhere pleading with Englishmen not to drive their -fellow Englishmen into civil war. And when at last war came, Burke still -sought to bring about reconciliation. He wrote the King a letter in which -he said that the British government was not representing the British -spirit of freedom in its dealings with the colonies. He wrote a letter -to the colonies in which he begged them not to believe that they were at -war with England. “Do not think,” he said, “that the whole or even the -majority of Englishmen in the island are enemies to their own blood on -the American continent.” And a little later he said, “But still a large, -and we trust the largest and soundest part of this kingdom perseveres in -the most perfect unity of sentiments, principles, and affections with -you. _It spreads out a large and liberal platform of common liberty upon -which we may all unite forever._” The whole matter he sums up by saying -that the spirit of England loves not conquest or vast empire for the sake -of wealth, but “this is the peculiar glory of England: those who have -and who hold to that foundation of common liberty, whether on this or -on your side of the ocean, we consider as the true, and the only true, -Englishmen.” - -All Americans need to remember these words written by a great friend -of the colonies during the Revolutionary War, a man who also explained -more clearly and more eloquently than any other Englishman in any time -the principles on which our inheritance of freedom rests. His interest -in the American cause was not merely the interest of a sympathetic -friend; over and over again he pointed out that the colonies, and not the -King’s ministry, represented the true English spirit. To him the mode of -self-government set up in Massachusetts and Virginia represented the very -ideal for which patriotic Englishmen had struggled for centuries. The -British parliament, in Burke’s time, was not made up of representatives -from all the population; only a small part of the population could vote, -and many districts had no representation at all. Complete control of the -government by the people was what Burke and thousands of other Englishmen -had been trying to win. In America such a form of popular government -had developed freely, because the British King paid little attention to -the colonies until they became wealthy enough to be a source of riches. -It was this fact that made the American revolution not merely a war -for the establishment of a new nation, but quite as much a war for the -development of free government in England itself. Burke realized this -fact, and expressed it by saying, “We view the establishment of the -English colonies on principles of liberty as that which is to render this -kingdom venerable to future ages.” - -The prophecy has been fulfilled. Britain still has a king, but he is -king in name only; the real power rests in the people. The struggle -in which the American colonists bore a part has resulted not only in -a free America, but also in a free England and in freedom for the -great dominions—Canada, Australia, and New Zealand—which have much the -same form of government. The inheritance of freedom belongs to all -English-speaking peoples, and the spread of these ideals means freedom -for the world. - -These ideals center around the brotherhood of man. In our Revolutionary -period Robert Burns sang of the coming of a time when these ideals should -be acknowledged: - - “It’s coming yet, for a’ that, - That man to man, the world o’er, - Shall brothers be, for a’ that.” - -Long before the time of Burns, John Milton, a great poet, who worked -throughout his life for freedom, and who held the same ideals as those -held by the founders of Plymouth Colony, wrote of the same thing: “Who -knows not that there is a mutual bond of brotherhood between man and man -over all the world?” - -The recent war has brought England and America together once more, as -defenders of the right of all people to self-government. For English -ideals, planted on American soil, victorious over the tyranny of George -III and his ministry, have not only found their most complete development -in our America, but have given the vision of liberty to all men. Thus we -are able to understand what President Wilson meant when he said, “And the -heart of America shall interpret the heart of the world.” - - - - -SCOTLAND’S STRUGGLE FOR INDEPENDENCE - -[Illustration] - - -TALES OF A GRANDFATHER - -SIR WALTER SCOTT - - -THE STORY OF SIR WILLIAM WALLACE (1296-1305) - -William Wallace was none of the high nobles of Scotland, but the son -of a private gentleman, called Wallace of Ellerslie, in Renfrewshire, -near Paisley. He was very tall and handsome, and one of the strongest -and bravest men that ever lived. He had a very fine countenance, with a -quantity of fair hair, and was particularly dexterous in the use of all -weapons which were then employed in battle. Wallace, like all Scotsmen -of high spirit, had looked with great indignation upon the usurpation of -the crown by Edward, and upon the insolences which the English soldiers -committed on his countrymen. It is said, that when he was very young, he -went a-fishing for sport in the river of Irvine, near Ayr. He had caught -a good many trout, which were carried by a boy, who attended him with a -fishing-basket, as is usual with anglers. Two or three English soldiers, -who belonged to the garrison of Ayr, came up to Wallace, and insisted, -with their usual insolence, on taking the fish from the boy. Wallace was -contented to allow them a part of the trout, but he refused to part with -the whole basketful. The soldiers insisted, and from words came to blows. -Wallace had no better weapon than the butt-end of his fishing rod; but -he struck the foremost of the Englishmen so hard under the ear with it -that he killed him on the spot; and getting possession of the slain man’s -sword, he fought with so much fury that he put the others to flight, -and brought home his fish safe and sound. The English governor of Ayr -sought for him, to punish him with death for this action; but Wallace lay -concealed among the hills and great woods till the matter was forgotten. - -But the action which occasioned his finally rising in arms is believed -to have happened in the town of Lanark. Wallace was at this time married -to a lady of that place, and residing there with his wife. It chanced, -as he walked in the market-place, dressed in a green garment, with a -rich dagger by his side, that an Englishman came up and insulted him -on account of his finery, saying a Scotsman had no business to wear so -gay a dress, or carry so handsome a weapon. It soon came to a quarrel, -and Wallace, having killed the Englishman, fled to his own house which -was speedily assaulted by all the English soldiers. While they were -endeavoring to force their way in at the front of the house, Wallace -escaped by a back door, and got in safety to a rugged and rocky glen, -near Lanark, called the Cartland Crags, all covered with bushes and -trees, and full of high precipices, where he knew he should be safe from -the pursuit of the English soldiers. In the meantime the governor of -Lanark, whose name was Hazelrigg, burned Wallace’s house and put his wife -and servants to death; and by committing this cruelty, increased to the -highest pitch, as you may well believe, the hatred which the champion -had always borne against the English usurper. Hazelrigg also proclaimed -Wallace an outlaw, and offered a reward to any one who should bring him -to an English garrison, alive or dead. - -On the other hand, Wallace soon collected a body of men, outlawed like -himself, or willing to become so, rather than any longer endure the -oppression of the English. One of his earliest expeditions was directed -against Hazelrigg, whom he killed, and thus avenged the death of his -wife. He fought skirmishes with the soldiers who were sent against -him, and often defeated them; and in time became so well known and so -formidable, that multitudes began to resort to his standard, until at -length he was at the head of a considerable army, with which he proposed -to restore his country to independence. - -Thus Wallace’s party grew daily stronger and stronger, and many of the -Scottish nobles joined with him. Among these was Sir William Douglas, -the Lord of Douglasdale, and the head of a great family often mentioned -in Scottish history. There was also Sir John the Grahame, who became -Wallace’s bosom friend and greatest confidant. Many of these great -noblemen, however, deserted the cause of the country on the approach -of John de Warenne, Earl of Surrey, the English governor, at the head -of a numerous and well-appointed army. They thought that Wallace would -be unable to withstand the attack of so many disciplined soldiers and -hastened to submit themselves to the English, for fear of losing their -estates. Wallace, however, remained undismayed, and at the head of a -considerable army. He had taken up his camp upon the northern side of the -river Forth, near the town of Stirling. The river was there crossed by a -long wooden bridge, about a mile above the spot where the present bridge -is situated. - -The English general approached the banks of the river on the southern -side. He sent two clergymen to offer a pardon to Wallace and his -followers, on condition that they should lay down their arms. But such -was not the purpose of the high-minded champion of Scotland. - -“Go back to Warenne,” said Wallace, “and tell him we value not the pardon -of the King of England. We are not here for the purpose of treating for -peace, but of abiding battle, and restoring freedom to our country. Let -the English come on; we defy them to their very beards!” - -The English, upon hearing this haughty answer, called loudly to be led to -the attack. The Earl of Surrey hesitated, for he was a skillful soldier, -and he saw that to approach the Scottish army, his troops must pass -over the long, narrow, wooden bridge; so that those who should get over -first might be attacked by Wallace with all his forces, before those who -remained behind could possibly come to their assistance. He therefore -inclined to delay the battle. But Cressingham the Treasurer, who was -ignorant and presumptuous, insisted that it was their duty to fight -and put an end to the war at once; and Surrey gave way to his opinion, -although Cressingham, being a churchman, could not be so good a judge of -what was fitting as he himself, an experienced officer. - -The English army began to cross the bridge, Cressingham leading the van, -or foremost division of the army; for, in those military days, even -clergymen wore armor and fought in battle. That took place which Surrey -had foreseen. Wallace suffered a considerable part of the English army to -pass the bridge, without offering any opposition; but when about one-half -were over, and the bridge was crowded with those who were following, -he charged those who had crossed, with his whole strength, slew a very -great number, and drove the rest into the river Forth, where the greater -part were drowned. The remainder of the English army, who were left on -the southern bank of the river, fled in great confusion, having first -set fire to the wooden bridge, that the Scots might not pursue them. -Cressingham was killed in the very beginning of the battle. - -The remains of Surrey’s great army fled out of Scotland after this -defeat, and the Scots, taking arms on all sides, attacked the castles -in which the English soldiers continued to shelter themselves, and took -most of them by force or stratagem. Many wonderful stories are told of -Wallace’s exploits on these occasions, some of which are no doubt true, -while others are either invented or very much exaggerated. It seems -certain, however, that he defeated the English in several combats, chased -them almost entirely out of Scotland, regained the towns and castles -of which they had possessed themselves, and recovered for a time the -complete freedom of the country. - -Edward I was in Flanders when all these events took place. You may -suppose he was very angry when he learned that Scotland, which he thought -completely subdued, had risen into a great insurrection against him, -defeated his armies, killed his Treasurer, chased his soldiers out of -their country, and invaded England with a great force. He came back from -Flanders in a mighty rage, and determined not to leave that rebellious -country until it was finally conquered, for which purpose he assembled a -very fine army and marched into Scotland. - -In the meantime the Scots prepared to defend themselves, and chose -Wallace to be Governor, or Protector, of the kingdom, because they had -no king at the time. He was now titled Sir William Wallace, Protector, -or Governor, of the Scottish nation. But although Wallace, as we have -seen, was the best soldier and bravest man in Scotland, and therefore -the most fit to be placed in command at this critical period, when the -King of England was coming against them with such great forces, yet the -nobles of Scotland envied him this important situation, because he was -not a man born in high rank, or enjoying a large estate. So great was -their jealousy of Sir William Wallace, that many of these great barons -did not seem very willing to bring forward their forces, or fight against -the English, because they would not have a man of inferior condition to -be general. Yet, notwithstanding this unwillingness of the great nobility -to support him, Wallace assembled a large army; for the middling, but -especially the lower classes, were very much attached to him. He marched -boldly against the King of England, and met him near the town of Falkirk. -Most of the Scottish army were on foot, because, as I already told you, -in those days only the nobility and great men of Scotland fought on -horseback. The English King, on the contrary, had a very large body of -the finest cavalry in the world, Normans and English, all clothed in -complete armor. He had also the celebrated archers of England, each of -whom was said to carry twelve Scotsmen’s lives under his girdle; because -every archer had twelve arrows stuck in his belt, and was expected to -kill a man with every arrow. - -The Scots had some good archers from the Forest of Ettrick, who fought -under command of Sir John Stewart of Bonkill; but they were not nearly -equal in number to the English. The greater part of the Scottish army -were on foot, armed with long spears; they were placed thick and close -together, and laid all their spears so close, point over point, that it -seemed as difficult to break through them, as through the wall of a -strong castle. - -The English made the attack. King Edward, though he saw the close ranks, -and undaunted appearance, of the Scottish infantry, resolved nevertheless -to try whether he could not ride them down with his fine cavalry. He -therefore gave his horsemen orders to advance. They charged accordingly -at full gallop. - -The first line of cavalry was commanded by the Earl Marshal of England, -whose progress was checked by a morass. The second line of English horse -was commanded by Antony Beck, the Bishop of Durham, who nevertheless -wore armor and fought like a lay baron. He wheeled round the morass; but -when he saw the deep and firm order of the Scots, his heart failed, and -he proposed to Sir Ralph Basset of Drayton, who commanded under him, -to halt till Edward himself brought up the reserve. “Go say your mass, -Bishop,” answered Basset contemptuously, and advanced at full gallop with -the second line. However, the Scots stood their ground with their long -spears; many of the foremost of the English horses were thrown down, -and the riders were killed as they lay rolling, unable to rise, owing -to the weight of their heavy armor. The English cavalry attempted again -and again to disperse the deep and solid ranks in which Wallace had -stationed his foot soldiers. But they were repeatedly beaten off with -loss, nor could they make their way through that wood of spears, as it -is called by one of the English historians. King Edward then commanded -his archers to advance; and these approaching within arrow-shot of the -Scottish ranks, poured on them such close and dreadful volleys of arrows, -that it was impossible to sustain the discharge. It happened at the same -time, that Sir John Stewart was killed by a fall from his horse; and the -archers of Ettrick Forest, whom he was bringing forward to oppose those -of King Edward, were slain in great numbers around him. Their bodies -were afterward distinguished among the slain, as being the tallest and -handsomest men of the army. - -The Scottish spearmen being thus thrown into some degree of confusion, by -the loss of those who were slain by the arrows of the English, the heavy -cavalry of Edward again charged with more success than formerly, and -broke through the ranks, which were already disordered. Sir John Grahame, -Wallace’s great friend and companion, was slain, with many other brave -soldiers; and the Scots, having lost a very great number of men, were at -length obliged to take to flight. - -The King of England possessed so much wealth, and so many means of -raising soldiers, that he sent army after army into the poor oppressed -country of Scotland, and obliged all its nobles and great men, one -after another, to submit themselves once more to his yoke. Sir William -Wallace, alone, or with a very small band of followers, refused either to -acknowledge the usurper Edward, or to lay down his arms. He continued to -maintain himself among the woods and mountains of his native country for -no less than seven years after his defeat at Falkirk, and for more than -one year after all the other defenders of Scottish liberty had laid down -their arms. Many proclamations were sent out against him by the English, -and a great reward was set upon his head; for Edward did not think he -could have any secure possession of his usurped kingdom of Scotland while -Wallace lived. At length he was taken prisoner; and, shame it to say, a -Scotsman called Sir John Monteith was the person by whom he was seized -and delivered to the English. - -Edward, having thus obtained possession of the person whom he considered -as the greatest obstacle to his complete conquest of Scotland, resolved -to make Wallace an example to all Scottish patriots who should in future -venture to oppose his ambitious projects. He caused this gallant defender -of his country to be brought to trial in Westminster Hall, before the -English judges, and produced him there, crowned in mockery, with a green -garland, because they said he had been king of outlaws and robbers among -the Scottish woods. Wallace was accused of having been a traitor to the -English crown; to which he answered, “I could not be a traitor to Edward, -for I was never his subject.” He was then charged with having taken and -burned towns and castles, with having killed many men and done much -violence. He replied, with the same calm resolution, that it was true he -had killed many Englishmen, but it was because they had come to subdue -and oppress his native country of Scotland; and far from repenting what -he had done, he declared he was only sorry that he had not put to death -many more of them. - -Notwithstanding that Wallace’s defense was a good one, both in law and -in common sense (for surely every one has not only a right to fight -in defense of his native country, but is bound in duty to do so), the -English judges condemned him to be executed. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Walter Scott (1771-1832) was born in Edinburgh, - Scotland. Even in his childhood he loved nothing better than to - wander through Scotland, looking up castles and ruins and listening - to the stories connected with them as told by the old people of the - villages. He became familiar with all the ballads and legends of his - locality, and these, with Bishop Percy’s collection of ballads which - he read later, exerted a strong influence on his life. He loved the - history and romance of Scotland and made them known to all the world - through his poems and novels. - - In 1827 he published the _Tales of a Grandfather_, because, as he - writes in his diary, the good thought came to him to write stories - from the history of Scotland for his grandson, John Hugh Lockhart, - whom he calls Hugh Littlejohn. “Children hate books which are written - down to their capacity, and love those that are composed more for - their elders. I will,” he says, “make, if possible, a book that a - child shall understand, yet a man will feel some temptation to peruse - should he chance to take it up.” - - =Discussion.= 1. This story relates five episodes in the life of - William Wallace: The Basket of Fish; The Green Garment; The Wooden - Bridge at Stirling Town; A Wood of Spears; The Trial in Westminster - Hall. Relate the episode that seems most vivid to you. 2. Read three - speeches that show clearly the character of William Wallace. 3. Would - you have joined Wallace if you had been a Scottish nobleman? 4. - Why did many of the nobles refuse to join Wallace? 5. Describe the - Scottish infantry and archers, and the English cavalry and archers - at Falkirk. 6. What is your opinion of Sir John Monteith? 7. Locate - on your map: Ayr; Lanark; Clyde River; Stirling; Falkirk; Edinburgh; - Northumberland; London. 8. Pronounce the following: usurpation; - formidable; stratagem; exploits; undaunted; morass. - - =Phrases= - - particularly dexterous, 293, 6 - usurpation of the crown, 293, 8 - usual insolence, 293, 16 - resort to his standard, 295, 2 - high-minded champion, 295, 25 - undaunted appearance, 298, 4 - volleys of arrows, 298, 28 - ambitious projects, 299, 26 - - -ROBERT THE BRUCE (1305-1313) - -Robert Bruce, Earl of Carrick, and John Comyn, usually called the Red -Comyn, two great and powerful barons, had taken part with Sir William -Wallace in the wars against England; but, after the defeat of Falkirk, -being fearful of losing their great estates, and considering the freedom -of Scotland as beyond the possibility of being recovered, both Bruce -and Comyn had not only submitted themselves to Edward, and acknowledged -his title as King of Scotland, but even borne arms, along with the -English, against such of their countrymen as still continued to resist -the usurper. But the feelings of Bruce concerning the baseness of -this conduct are said, by the old tradition of Scotland, to have been -awakened by the following incident. In one of the numerous battles, or -skirmishes, which took place at the time between the English and their -adherents on the one side, and the insurgent, or patriotic, Scots upon -the other, Robert the Bruce was present, and assisted the English to gain -the victory. After the battle was over, he sat down to dinner among his -southern friends and allies, without washing his hands, on which there -still remained spots of the blood which he had shed during the action. -The English lords, observing this, whispered to each other in mockery, -“Look at that Scotsman, who is eating his own blood!” Bruce heard what -they said, and began to reflect that the blood upon his hands might be -indeed called his own, since it was that of his brave countrymen who were -fighting for the independence of Scotland, whilst he was assisting its -oppressors, who only laughed at and mocked him for his unnatural conduct. -He was so much shocked and disgusted, that he arose from table, and, -going into a neighboring chapel, shed many tears, and asking pardon of -God for the great crime he had been guilty of, made a solemn vow that he -would atone for it, by doing all in his power to deliver Scotland from -the foreign yoke. Accordingly, he left, it is said, the English army, and -never joined it again, but remained watching an opportunity for restoring -the freedom of his country. - -Now, this Robert the Bruce was a remarkably brave and strong man; there -was no man in Scotland that was thought a match for him except Sir -William Wallace; and now that Wallace was dead, Bruce was held the best -warrior in Scotland. He was very wise and prudent, and an excellent -general. He was generous, too, and courteous by nature; but he had some -faults, which perhaps belonged as much to the fierce period in which he -lived as to his own character. He was rash and passionate, and in his -passion, he was sometimes relentless and cruel. - -Robert the Bruce had fixed his purpose, as I told you, to attempt once -again to drive the English out of Scotland, and he desired to prevail -upon Sir John the Red Comyn, who was his rival in his pretensions to the -throne, to join with him in expelling the foreign enemy by their common -efforts. With this purpose, Bruce posted down from London to Dumfries, on -the borders of Scotland, and requested an interview with John Comyn. They -met in the church of the Minorites in that town, before the high altar. -What passed betwixt them is not known with certainty; but they quarreled, -either concerning their mutual pretensions to the crown, or because -Comyn refused to join Bruce in the proposed insurrection against the -English; or, as many writers say, because Bruce charged Comyn with having -betrayed to the English his purpose of rising up against King Edward. -It is, however, certain, that these two haughty barons came to high -and abusive words, until at length Bruce, who I told you was extremely -passionate, forgot the sacred character of the place in which they stood, -and struck Comyn a blow with his dagger. Having done this rash deed, he -instantly ran out of the church and called for his horse. Two gentlemen -of the country, Lindesay and Kirkpatrick, friends of Bruce, were then in -attendance on him. Seeing him pale, and in much agitation, they eagerly -inquired what was the matter. - -“I doubt,” said Bruce, “that I have slain the Red Comyn.” - -“Do you leave such a matter in doubt?” said Kirkpatrick. “I will make -sicker!”—that is, I will make certain. - -Accordingly, he and his companion Lindesay rushed into the church, and -made the matter certain with a vengeance, by dispatching the wounded -Comyn with their daggers. This slaughter of Comyn was a most rash -and cruel action; and the historian of Bruce observes, that it was -followed by the displeasure of Heaven; for no man ever went through more -misfortunes than Robert Bruce, although he at length rose to great honor. - -The commencement of Bruce’s undertaking was most disastrous. He was -crowned on the twenty-ninth of March, 1306. On the nineteenth of June, -the new King was completely defeated near Methven by the English Earl of -Pembroke. Robert’s horse was killed under him in the action, and he was -for a moment a prisoner. But he had fallen into the power of a Scottish -knight, who, though he served in the English army, did not choose to be -the instrument of putting Bruce into their hands, and allowed him to -escape. - -Driven from one place in the Highlands to another, starved out of some -districts, and forced from others by the opposition of the inhabitants, -Bruce attempted to force his way into Lorn; but he found enemies -everywhere. - -At last dangers increased so much around the brave King Robert, that he -was obliged to separate himself from his Queen and her ladies; for the -winter was coming on, and it would be impossible for the women to endure -this wandering sort of life when the frost and snow should set in. So -Bruce left his Queen, with the Countess of Buchan and others, in the -only castle which remained to him, which was called Kildrummie, and is -situated near the head of the river Don in Aberdeenshire. The King also -left his youngest brother, Nigel Bruce, to defend the castle against the -English; and he himself, with his second brother Edward, who was a very -brave man, but still more rash and passionate than Robert himself, went -over to an island called Rachrin, on the coast of Ireland, where Bruce -and the few men who followed his fortunes passed the winter of 1306. - -The news of the taking of Kildrummie, the captivity of his wife, and -the execution of his brother, reached Bruce while he was residing in a -miserable dwelling at Rachrin, and reduced him to the point of despair. - -It was about this time that an incident took place, which, although it -rests only on tradition in families of the name of Bruce, is rendered -probable by the manners of the times. After receiving the last unpleasing -intelligence from Scotland, Bruce was lying one morning on his wretched -bed, and deliberating with himself whether he had not better resign all -thoughts of again attempting to make good his right to the Scottish -crown, and, dismissing his followers, transport himself and his brothers -to the Holy Land, and spend the rest of his life in fighting against the -Saracens; by which he thought, perhaps, he might deserve the forgiveness -of Heaven for the great sin of stabbing Comyn in the church at Dumfries. -But then, on the other hand, he thought it would be both criminal and -cowardly to give up his attempts to restore freedom to Scotland while -there yet remained the least chance of his being successful in an -undertaking, which, rightly considered, was much more his duty than to -drive the infidels out of Palestine. - -While he was divided betwixt these reflections, and doubtful of what he -should do, Bruce was looking upward to the roof of the cabin in which he -lay; and his eye was attracted by a spider, which, hanging at the end of -a long thread of its own spinning, was endeavoring, as is the fashion -of that creature, to swing itself from one beam in the roof to another, -for the purpose of fixing the line on which it meant to stretch its web. -The insect made the attempt again and again without success; at length -Bruce counted that it had tried to carry its point six times, and been as -often unable to do so. It came into his head that he had himself fought -just six battles against the English and their allies, and that the poor -persevering spider was exactly in the same situation with himself, having -made as many trials and been as often disappointed in what it aimed at. -“Now,” thought Bruce, “as I have no means of knowing what is best to be -done, I will be guided by the luck which shall attend this spider. If -the insect shall make another effort to fix its thread, and shall be -successful, I will venture a seventh time to try my fortune in Scotland; -but if the spider shall fail, I will go to the wars in Palestine, and -never return to my native country more.” - -While Bruce was forming this resolution the spider made another exertion -with all the force it could muster, and fairly succeeded in fastening -its thread to the beam which it had so often in vain attempted to reach. -Bruce, seeing the success of the spider, resolved to try his own fortune; -and as he had never before gained a victory, so he never afterwards -sustained any considerable or decisive check or defeat. I have often met -with people of the name of Bruce, so completely persuaded of the truth of -this story, that they would not on any account kill a spider, because it -was that insect which had shown the example of perseverance, and given a -signal of good luck to their great namesake. - -Having determined to renew his efforts to obtain possession of Scotland, -notwithstanding the smallness of the means which he had for accomplishing -so great a purpose, the Bruce removed himself and his followers from -Rachrin to the island of Arran, which lies in the mouth of the Clyde. The -King landed and inquired of the first woman he met what armed men were -in the island. She returned for answer that there had arrived there very -lately a body of armed strangers, who had defeated an English officer, -the governor of the castle of Brathwick, had killed him and most of his -men, and were now amusing themselves with hunting about the island. -The King, having caused himself to be guided to the woods which these -strangers most frequented, there blew his horn repeatedly. Now, the chief -of the strangers who had taken the castle was James Douglas, one of the -best of Bruce’s friends, and he was accompanied by some of the bravest of -that patriotic band. When he heard Robert Bruce’s horn, he knew the sound -well, and cried out that yonder was the King; he knew by his manner of -blowing. So he and his companions hastened to meet King Robert, and there -was great joy on both sides; whilst at the same time they could not help -weeping when they considered their own forlorn condition, and the great -loss that had taken place among their friends since they had last parted. -But they were stout-hearted men, and looked forward to freeing their -country in spite of all that had yet happened. - -When King Edward the First heard that Scotland was again in arms against -him, he marched down to the borders with many threats of what he would -do to avenge himself on Bruce and his party, whom he called rebels. - -Other great lords besides Douglas were now exerting themselves to attack -and destroy the English. Amongst those was Sir Thomas Randolph, whose -mother was a sister of King Robert. He had joined with the Bruce when he -first took up arms. Afterwards being made prisoner by the English, when -the King was defeated at Methven, Sir Thomas Randolph was obliged to join -the English to save his life. He remained so constant to them, that he -was in company with Aymer de Valence and John of Lorn, when they forced -the Bruce to disperse his little band; and he followed the pursuit so -close, that he made his uncle’s standard-bearer prisoner and took his -banner. Afterwards, however, he was himself made prisoner, at a solitary -house on Lyne-water, by the good Lord James Douglas, who brought him -captive to the King. Robert reproached his nephew for having deserted his -cause; and Randolph, who was very hot-tempered, answered insolently, and -was sent by King Robert to prison. Shortly after, the uncle and nephew -were reconciled, and Sir Thomas Randolph, created Earl of Murray by the -King, was ever afterwards one of Bruce’s best supporters. There was a -sort of rivalry between Douglas and him, which should do the boldest and -most hazardous actions. I will just mention one or two circumstances, -which will show you what awful dangers were to be encountered by these -brave men, in order to free Scotland from its enemies and invaders. - -While Robert Bruce was gradually getting possession of the country, and -driving out the English, Edinburgh, the principal town of Scotland, -remained, with its strong castle, in possession of the invaders. Sir -Thomas Randolph was extremely desirous to gain this important place; but, -as you well know, the castle is situated on a very steep and lofty rock, -so that it is difficult or almost impossible even to get up to the foot -of the walls, much more to climb over them. - -So while Randolph was considering what was to be done, there came to him -a Scottish gentleman named Francis, who had joined Bruce’s standard, and -asked to speak with him in private. He then told Randolph, that in his -youth he had lived in the Castle of Edinburgh, and that his father had -then been keeper of the fortress. It happened at that time that Francis -was much in love with a lady, who lived in a part of the town beneath the -castle, which is called the Grassmarket. Now, as he could not get out -of the castle by day to see her, he had practiced a way of clambering -by night down the castle rock on the south side, and returning at his -pleasure; when he came to the foot of the wall, he made use of a ladder -to get over it, as it was not very high at that point, those who built it -having trusted to the steepness of the crag; and, for the same reason, no -watch was placed there. Francis had gone and come so frequently in this -dangerous manner, that, though it was now long ago, he told Randolph he -knew the road so well that he would undertake to guide a small party of -men by night to the bottom of the wall; and as they might bring ladders -with them, there would be no difficulty in scaling it. The great risk -was that of their being discovered by the watchmen while in the act of -ascending the cliff, in which case every man of them must have perished. - -Nevertheless, Randolph did not hesitate to attempt the adventure. He took -with him only thirty men (you may be sure they were chosen for activity -and courage), and came one dark night to the foot of the rock, which they -began to ascend under the guidance of Francis, who went before them, upon -his hands and feet, up one cliff, down another, and round another, where -there was scarce room to support themselves. All the while these thirty -men were obliged to follow in a line, one after the other, by a path -that was fitter for a cat than a man. The noise of a stone falling, or a -word spoken from one to another, would have alarmed the watchmen. They -were obliged, therefore, to move with the greatest precaution. When they -were far up the crag, and near the foundation of the wall, they heard -the guards going their rounds, to see that all was safe in and about the -castle. Randolph and his party had nothing for it but to lie close and -quiet, each man under the crag, as he happened to be placed, and trust -that the guards would pass by without noticing them. And while they -were waiting in breathless alarm they got a new cause of fright. One of -the soldiers of the castle, willing to startle his comrades, suddenly -threw a stone from the wall, and cried out, “Aha, I see you well!” The -stone came thundering down over the heads of Randolph and his men, who -naturally thought themselves discovered. If they had stirred, or made -the slightest noise, they would have been entirely destroyed; for the -soldiers above might have killed every man of them merely by rolling down -stones. But being courageous and chosen men, they remained quiet, and -the English soldiers, who thought their comrade was merely playing them -a trick (as, indeed, he had no other meaning in what he did and said), -passed on without further examination. - -Then Randolph and his men got up and came in haste to the foot of the -wall, which was not above twice a man’s height in that place. They -planted the ladders they had brought, and Francis mounted first to show -them the way; Sir Andrew Grey, a brave knight, followed him, and Randolph -himself was the third man who got over. Then the rest followed. When -once they were within the walls, there was not so much to do, for the -garrison were asleep and unarmed, excepting the watch, who were speedily -destroyed. Thus was Edinburgh Castle taken in March, 1312-13. - -It was not, however, only by the exertions of great and powerful barons, -like Randolph and Douglas, that the freedom of Scotland was to be -accomplished. The stout yeomanry and the bold peasantry of the land, who -were as desirous to enjoy their cottages in honorable independence as -the nobles were to reclaim their castles and estates from the English, -contributed their full share in the efforts which were made to deliver -the country from the invaders. I will give you one instance among many. - -There was a strong castle near Linlithgow, or Lithgow, as the word is -more generally pronounced, where an English governor, with a powerful -garrison, lay in readiness to support the English cause, and used to -exercise much severity upon the Scots in the neighborhood. There lived -at no great distance from this stronghold, a farmer, a bold and stout -man, whose name was Binnock, or, as it is now pronounced, Binning. This -man saw with great joy the progress which the Scots were making in -recovering their country from the English, and resolved to do something -to help his countrymen, by getting possession, if it were possible, -of the Castle of Lithgow. But the place was very strong, situated by -the side of a lake, defended not only by gates, which were usually kept -shut against strangers, but also by a portcullis. A portcullis is a sort -of door formed of cross-bars of iron, like a grate. It has not hinges -like a door, but is drawn up by pulleys, and let down when any danger -approaches. It may be let go in a moment, and then falls down into the -doorway; and as it has great iron spikes at the bottom, it crushes all -that it lights upon; thus in case of a sudden alarm, a portcullis may be -let suddenly fall to defend the entrance, when it is not possible to shut -the gates. Binnock knew this very well, but he resolved to be provided -against this risk also when he attempted to surprise the castle. So he -spoke with some bold, courageous countrymen, and engaged them in his -enterprise, which he accomplished thus: - -Binnock had been accustomed to supply the garrison of Linlithgow -with hay, and he had been ordered by the English governor to furnish -some cart-loads, of which they were in want. He promised to bring it -accordingly; but the night before he drove the hay to the castle, he -stationed a party of his friends, as well armed as possible, near the -entrance, where they could not be seen by the garrison, and gave them -directions that they should come to his assistance as soon as they should -hear him cry a signal, which was to be, “Call all, call all!” Then he -loaded a great wagon with hay. But in the wagon he placed eight strong -men, well armed, lying flat on their breasts, and covered over with hay, -so that they could not be seen. He himself walked carelessly beside the -wagon; and he chose the stoutest and bravest of his servants to be the -driver, who carried at his belt a strong ax or hatchet. In this way -Binnock approached the castle early in the morning; and the watchman, who -only saw two men, Binnock being one of them, with a cart of hay, which -they expected, opened the gates and raised up the portcullis, to permit -them to enter the castle. But as soon as the cart had gotten under the -gateway, Binnock made a sign to his servant, who with his ax suddenly -cut asunder the _soam_, that is, the yoke which fastens the horses to -the cart, and the horses finding themselves free, naturally started -forward, the cart remaining behind. At the same moment, Binnock cried, -as loud as he could, “Call all, call all!” and drawing the sword, which -he had under his country habit, he killed the porter. The armed men then -jumped up from under the hay where they lay concealed, and rushed on the -English guard. The Englishmen tried to shut the gates, but they could -not, because the cart of hay remained in the gateway, and prevented the -folding-doors from being closed. The portcullis was also let fall, but -the grating was caught on the cart, and so could not drop to the ground. -The men who were in ambush near the gate, hearing the cry, “Call all, -call all,” ran to assist those who had leaped out from amongst the hay; -the castle was taken, and all the Englishmen killed or made prisoners. -King Robert rewarded Binnock by bestowing on him an estate, which his -posterity long afterwards enjoyed. - -The English now possessed scarcely any place of importance in Scotland, -excepting Stirling, which was besieged, or rather blockaded, by Edward -Bruce, the King’s brother. To blockade a town or castle is to quarter an -army around it, so as to prevent those within from getting provisions. -This was done by the Scots before Stirling, till Sir Philip Mowbray, who -commanded the castle, finding that he was like to be reduced to extremity -for want of provisions, made an agreement with Edward Bruce that he would -surrender the place, provided he were not relieved by the King of England -before midsummer. Sir Edward agreed to these terms, and allowed Mowbray -to go to London, to tell King Edward of the conditions he had made. But -when King Robert heard what his brother had done, he thought it was too -great a risk, since it obliged him to venture a battle with the full -strength of Edward the Second, who had under him England, Ireland, Wales, -and great part of France, and could within the time allowed assemble a -much more powerful army than the Scots could, even if all Scotland were -fully under the King’s authority. Sir Edward answered his brother with -his naturally audacious spirit, “Let Edward bring every man he has, we -will fight them, were they more.” The King admired his courage, though -it was mingled with rashness. “Since it is so, brother,” he said, “we -will manfully abide battle, and assemble all who love us, and value the -freedom of Scotland, to come with all the men they have, and help us to -oppose King Edward, should he come with his army, to rescue Stirling.” - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Discussion.= 1. What incident made Robert Bruce leave the English - army? 2. What qualities for leadership did he possess? 3. What - happened when Comyn and Bruce met at the church in Dumfries? 4. - How was Bruce punished for this deed? 5. Mention some of Bruce’s - misfortunes. 6. Which did you wish Bruce to do, fight the Saracens, - or fight for Scotland? 7. Why? 8. What did the spider show Bruce? 9. - How did Bruce and James Douglas meet? 10. What do you know about Sir - Thomas Randolph? 11. Describe the taking of Edinburgh Castle. 12. By - what stratagem was the Castle of Lithgow taken? 13. Read lines that - show the character of the King’s brother, Sir Edward. 14. Pronounce - the following: patriotic; yeomanry; severity; audacious. - - =Phrases= - - resist the usurper, 301, 9 - baseness of this conduct, 301, 10 - foreign yoke, 301, 31 - down from London, 302, 15 - church of Minorites, 302, 17 - mutual pretensions, 302, 19 - unpleasing intelligence, 304, 4 - stout-hearted men, 305, 34 - stout yeomanry, 308, 23 - bold peasantry, 308, 23 - - -THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBURN (1314) - -When Sir Philip Mowbray, the governor of Stirling, came to London, to -tell the King that Stirling, the last Scottish town of importance which -remained in possession of the English, was to be surrendered if it were -not relieved by force of arms before midsummer, then all the English -nobles called out, it would be a sin and shame to permit the fair -conquest which Edward the First had made, to be forfeited to the Scots -for want of fighting. - -King Edward the Second, therefore, assembled one of the greatest armies -which a King of England ever commanded. There were troops brought from -all his dominions. Many brave soldiers from the French provinces which -the King of England possessed in France—many Irish, many Welsh—and -all the great English nobles and barons, with their followers, were -assembled in one great army. The number was not less than one hundred -thousand men. - -King Robert the Bruce summoned all his nobles and barons to join him, -when he heard of the great preparations which the King of England was -making. They were not so numerous as the English by many thousand men. -In fact, his whole army did not very much exceed thirty thousand, and -they were much worse armed than the wealthy Englishmen; but then, -Robert, who was at their head, was one of the most expert generals of -the time; and the officers he had under him were his brother Edward, his -nephew Randolph, his faithful follower the Douglas, and other brave and -experienced leaders, who commanded the same men that had been accustomed -to fight and gain victories under every disadvantage of situation and -numbers. - -The King, on his part, studied how he might supply, by address and -stratagem, what he wanted in numbers and strength. He knew the -superiority of the English, both in their heavy-armed cavalry, which -were much better mounted and armed than that of the Scots, and in their -archers, who were better trained than any others in the world. Both these -advantages he resolved to provide against. With this purpose, he led his -army down into a plain near Stirling, called the Park, near which, and -beneath it, the English army must needs pass through a boggy country, -broken with water-courses, while the Scots occupied hard dry ground. He -then caused all the ground upon the front of his line of battle, where -cavalry were likely to act, to be dug full of holes, about as deep as a -man’s knee. They were filled with light brushwood, and the turf was laid -on the top, so that it appeared a plain field, while in reality it was -all full of these pits as a honeycomb is of holes. He also, it is said, -caused steel spikes, called calthrops, to be scattered up and down in the -plain, where the English cavalry were most likely to advance, trusting in -that manner to lame and destroy their horses. - -When the Scottish army was drawn up, the line stretched north and -south. On the south, it was terminated by the banks of the brook, -called Bannockburn, which are so rocky, that no troops could attack -them there. On the left, the Scottish line extended near to the town -of Stirling. Bruce reviewed his troops very carefully; all the useless -servants, drivers of carts, and such like, of whom there were very many, -he ordered to go behind a height, afterwards, in memory of the event, -called the Gillies’ hill, that is, the Servants’ hill. He then spoke to -the soldiers, and expressed his determination to gain the victory, or to -lose his life on the field of battle. He desired that all those who did -not propose to fight to the last should leave the field before the battle -began, and that none should remain except those who were determined to -take the issue of victory or death, as God should send it. - -When the main body of his army was thus placed in order, the King posted -Randolph, with a body of horse, near to the Church of St. Ninian’s, -commanding him to use the utmost diligence to prevent any succors from -being thrown into Stirling Castle. He then dispatched James of Douglas, -and Sir Robert Keith, the Mareschal of the Scottish army, in order that -they might survey as nearly as they could, the English force, which was -now approaching from Falkirk. They returned with information, that the -approach of that vast host was one of the most beautiful and terrible -sights which could be seen—that the whole country seemed covered with -men-at-arms on horse and foot—that the number of standards, banners, and -pennons made so gallant a show, that the bravest and most numerous host -in Christendom might be alarmed to see King Edward moving against them. - -It was upon the twenty-third of June (1314) the King of Scotland heard -the news, that the English army were approaching Stirling. He drew out -his army, therefore, in the order which he had before resolved on. After -a short time, Bruce, who was looking out anxiously for the enemy, saw a -body of English cavalry trying to get into Stirling from the eastward. -This was the Lord Clifford, who, with a chosen body of eight hundred -horse, had been detached to relieve the castle. - -“See, Randolph,” said the King to his nephew, “there is a rose fallen -from your chaplet.” By this he meant that Randolph had lost some honor, -by suffering the enemy to pass where he had been stationed to hinder -them. Randolph made no reply but rushed against Clifford with little -more than half his number. The Scots were on foot. The English turned -to charge them with their lances, and Randolph drew up his men in close -order to receive the onset. He seemed to be in so much danger, that -Douglas asked leave of the King to go and assist him. The King refused -him permission. - -“Let Randolph,” he said, “redeem his own fault; I cannot break the order -of battle for his sake.” Still the danger appeared greater, and the -English horse seemed entirely to encompass the small handful of Scottish -infantry. “So please you,” said Douglas to the king, “my heart will -not suffer me to stand idle and see Randolph perish—I must go to his -assistance.” He rode off accordingly; but long before they had reached -the place of combat, they saw the English horses galloping off, many with -empty saddles. - -“Halt!” said Douglas to his men, “Randolph has gained the day; since we -were not soon enough to help him in the battle, do not let us lessen his -glory by approaching the field.” Now, that was nobly done; especially as -Douglas and Randolph were always contending which should rise highest in -the good opinion of the King of the nation. - -The van of the English army now came in sight, and a number of their -bravest knights drew near to see what the Scots were doing. They saw King -Robert dressed in his armor and distinguished by a gold crown, which he -wore over his helmet. He was not mounted on his great war-horse, because -he did not expect to fight that evening. But he rode on a little pony up -and down the ranks of his army, putting his men in order, and carried in -his hand a sort of battle-ax made of steel. - -The next morning, being the twenty-fourth of June, at break of day, the -battle began in terrible earnest. The English as they advanced saw the -Scots getting into line. The Abbot of Inchaffray walked through their -ranks bare-footed, and exhorted them to fight for their freedom. They -kneeled down as he passed, and prayed to Heaven for victory. King Edward, -who saw this, called out, “They kneel down—they are asking forgiveness.” -“Yes,” said a celebrated English baron, called Ingelram de Umphraville, -“but they ask it from God, not from us—these men will conquer, or die -upon the field.” - -The English King ordered his men to begin the battle. The archers then -bent their bows, and began to shoot so closely together, that the arrows -fell like flakes of snow on a Christmas day. They killed many of the -Scots, and might, as at Falkirk, and other places, have decided the -victory; but Bruce, as I told you before, was prepared for them. He had -in readiness a body of men-at-arms, well mounted, who rode at full gallop -among the archers, and as they had no weapons save their bows and arrows, -which they could not use when they were attacked hand to hand, they were -cut down in great numbers by the Scottish horsemen, and thrown into total -confusion. - -The fine English cavalry then advanced to support their archers, and to -attack the Scottish line. But coming over the ground which was dug full -of pits, the horses fell into these holes, and the riders lay tumbling -about, without any means of defense, and unable to rise, from the weight -of their armor. The Englishmen began to fall into general disorder; and -the Scottish King, bringing up more of his forces, attacked and pressed -them still more closely. - -On a sudden, while the battle was obstinately maintained on both sides, -an event happened which decided the victory. The servants and attendants -on the Scottish camp had, as I told you, been sent behind the army to a -place afterwards called the Gillies’ hill. But when they saw that their -masters were likely to gain the day, they rushed from their place of -concealment with such weapons as they could get, that they might have -their share in the victory and in the spoil. The English, seeing them -come suddenly over the hill, mistook this disorderly rabble for a new -army coming up to sustain the Scots, and, losing all heart, began to -shift every man for himself. Edward himself left the field as fast as he -could ride. A valiant knight, Sir Giles de Argentine, much renowned in -the wars of Palestine, attended the King till he got him out of the press -of the combat. But he would retreat no farther. “It is not my custom,” -he said, “to fly.” With that he took leave of the King, set spurs to his -horse, and calling out his war-cry of Argentine! Argentine! he rushed -into the thickest of the Scottish ranks, and was killed. - -Edward first fled to Stirling Castle, and entreated admittance; but Sir -Philip Mowbray, the governor, reminded the fugitive sovereign that he -was obliged to surrender the castle next day, so Edward was fain to fly -through the Torwood, closely pursued by Douglas with a body of cavalry. - -Douglas and Abernethy continued the chase, not giving King Edward time -to alight from horseback even for an instant, and followed him as far as -Dunbar, where the English had still a friend, in the governor, Patrick, -Earl of March. The Earl received Edward in his forlorn condition, and -furnished him with a fishing skiff, or small ship, in which he escaped to -England, having entirely lost his fine army, and a great number of his -bravest nobles. - -The English never before or afterwards, whether in France or Scotland, -lost so dreadful a battle as that of Bannockburn, nor did the Scots -ever gain one of the same importance. Many of the best and bravest of -the English nobility and gentry, as I have said, lay dead on the field; -a great many more were made prisoners; and the whole of King Edward’s -immense army was dispersed or destroyed. - -The English, after this great defeat, were no longer in a condition to -support their pretensions to be masters of Scotland, or to continue, as -they had done for nearly twenty years, to send armies into that country -to overcome it. On the contrary, they became for a time scarce able to -defend their own frontiers against King Robert and his soldiers. - -Thus did Robert Bruce arise from the condition of an exile, hunted with -bloodhounds like a stag or beast of prey, to the rank of an independent -sovereign, universally acknowledged to be one of the wisest and bravest -kings who then lived. The nation of Scotland was also raised once more -from the situation of a distressed and conquered province to that of a -free and independent state, governed by its own laws, and subject to -its own princes; and although the country was, after the Bruce’s death, -often subjected to great loss and distress, both by the hostility of the -English, and by the unhappy civil wars among the Scots themselves, yet -they never afterwards lost the freedom for which Wallace had laid down -his life, and which King Robert had recovered, not less by his wisdom -than by his weapons. And therefore most just it is, that while the -country of Scotland retains any recollection of its history, the memory -of those brave warriors and faithful patriots should be remembered with -honor and gratitude. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Discussion.= 1. Describe the two armies, the English and the - Scottish. 2. What stratagem did the King use? 3. Draw a diagram - of the Scottish line showing the relative positions of the Park, - Bannockburn, Stirling, Gillies’ hill, the church of St. Ninian’s, and - Falkirk. 4. What did the King mean when he said to Randolph, “There - is a rose fallen from your chaplet”? 5. Read passages that show two - fine sides of Douglas’s nature. 6. Describe the Scottish king as - he rode up and down the ranks of his army. 7. Describe the battle. - 8. What decided the victory? 9. Read the passages that seem to you - the most thrilling. 10. Why was this such an important battle? 11. - Read Bruce’s address to his soldiers as given by Robert Burns in his - poem “Bannockburn.” 12. Pronounce the following: boggy; exhorted; - fugitive; frontiers. - - =Phrases= - - fair conquest, 311, 8 - disadvantage of situation, 312, 15 - was obstinately maintained, 315, 22 - disorderly rabble, 315, 30 - valiant knight, 315, 33 - entreated admittance, 316, 3 - fugitive sovereign, 316, 4 - civil wars, 316, 37 - - -THE EXPLOITS OF DOUGLAS AND RANDOLPH (1315-1330) - -Robert Bruce continued to reign gloriously for several years, and was so -constantly victorious over the English, that the Scots seemed during his -government to have acquired a complete superiority over their neighbors. -But then we must remember that Edward the Second, who then reigned in -England, was a foolish prince, and listened to bad counsels; so that it -is no wonder that he was beaten by so wise and experienced a general -as Robert Bruce, who had fought his way to the crown through so many -disasters, and acquired in consequence so much renown, that, as I have -often said, he was generally accounted one of the best soldiers and -wisest sovereigns of his time. - -In the last year of Robert the Bruce’s reign, he became extremely sickly -and infirm, chiefly owing to a disorder called the leprosy, which he had -caught during the hardships and misfortunes of his youth, when he was so -frequently obliged to hide himself in woods and morasses, without a roof -to shelter him. While Bruce was in this feeble state, Edward the Second, -King of England, died, and was succeeded by his son Edward the Third. -He turned out afterwards to be one of the wisest and bravest kings whom -England ever had; but when he first mounted the throne he was very young, -and under the entire management of his mother. - -The war between the English and the Scots still lasting at the time, -Bruce sent his two great commanders, the good Lord James Douglas, -and Thomas Randolph, Earl of Murray, to lay waste the counties of -Northumberland and Durham, and distress the English as much as they could. - -Their soldiers were about twenty thousand in number, all lightly armed, -and mounted on horses that were quite small in height, but excessively -active. The men themselves carried no provision, except a bag of oatmeal; -and each had at his saddle a small plate of iron called a girdle, on -which, when they pleased, they could bake the oatmeal into cakes. They -killed the cattle of the English, as they traveled through the country, -roasted the flesh on wooden spits, or boiled it in the skins of the -animals themselves, putting in a little water with the beef, to prevent -the fire from burning the hide to pieces. This was rough cookery. They -made their shoes, or rather sandals, in as coarse a way; cutting them -out of the raw hides of the cattle, and fitting them to their ankles, -like what are now called short gaiters. As this sort of buskin had the -hairy side of the hide outermost, the English called those who wore -them _rough-footed_ Scots, and sometimes, from the color of the hide, -_red-shanks_. - -As such forces needed to carry nothing with them, either for provisions -or ammunition, the Scots moved with amazing speed, from mountain to -mountain, and from glen to glen, pillaging and destroying the country -wheresoever they came. In the meanwhile, the King of England pursued -them with a much larger army; but, as it was encumbered by the necessity -of carrying provisions in great quantities, and by the slow motions of -men in heavy armor, they could not come up with the Scots, although -they saw every day the smoke of the houses and villages which they were -burning. The King of England was extremely angry; for, though only a boy -sixteen years old, he longed to fight the Scots and to chastise them for -the mischief they were doing to his country; and at length he grew so -impatient that he offered a large reward to any one who would show him -where the Scottish army were. - -At length, after the English host had suffered severe hardships, from -want of provisions, and fatiguing journeys through fords, and swamps, -and morasses, a gentleman named Rokeby came into the camp and claimed -the reward which the King had offered. He told the King that he had been -made prisoner by the Scots, and that they said they should be as glad to -meet the English King as he to see them. Accordingly, Rokeby guided the -English army to the place where the Scots lay encamped. - -But the English King was no nearer to the battle which he desired; for -Douglas and Randolph, knowing the force and numbers of the English army, -had taken up their camp on a steep hill, at the bottom of which ran a -deep river called the Wear, having a channel filled with large stones, so -that there was no possibility for the English to attack the Scots without -crossing the water, and then climbing up the steep hill in the very face -of their enemy; a risk which was too great to be attempted. - -Then the King sent a message of defiance to the Scottish generals, -inviting them either to draw back their forces, and allow him freedom -to cross the river and time to place his army in order of battle on the -other side, that they might fight fairly, or offering, if they liked it -better, to permit them to cross over to his side without opposition, that -they might join battle on a fair field. Randolph and Douglas did nothing -but laugh at this message. They said that when they fought, it should be -at their own pleasure, and not because the King of England chose to ask -for a battle. They reminded him, insultingly, how they had been in his -country for many days, burning, taking spoil, and doing what they thought -fit. If the King was displeased with this, they said he must find his way -across the river to fight them, the best way he could. - -The English King, determined not to quit sight of the Scots, encamped -on the opposite side of the river to watch their motions, thinking that -want of provisions would oblige them to quit their strong position on -the mountains. But the Scots once more showed Edward their dexterity -in marching, by leaving their encampment, and taking up another post, -even stronger and more difficult to approach than the first which they -had occupied. King Edward followed, and again encamped opposite to his -dexterous and troublesome enemies, desirous to bring them to a battle, -when he might hope to gain an easy victory, having more than double the -number of the Scottish army, all troops of the very best quality. - -While the armies lay thus opposed to each other, Douglas resolved to give -the young King of England a lesson in the art of war. At the dead of -night, he left the Scottish camp with a small body of chosen horse, not -above two hundred, well armed. He crossed the river in deep silence and -came to the English camp, which was but carelessly guarded. Seeing this, -Douglas rode past the English sentinels as if he had been an officer of -the English army, saying—“Ha, Saint George! you keep bad watch here.” In -those days, you must know, the English used to swear by Saint George, as -the Scots did by Saint Andrew. Presently after, Douglas heard an English -soldier, who lay stretched by the fire, say to his comrade, “I cannot -tell what is to happen to us in this place; but, for my part, I have a -great fear of the Black Douglas playing us some trick.” - -“You shall have cause to say so,” said Douglas to himself. - -When he had thus got into the midst of the English camp without being -discovered, he drew his sword, and cut asunder the ropes of a tent, -calling out his usual war-cry, “Douglas, Douglas! English thieves, you -are all dead men.” His followers immediately began to cut down and -overturn the tents, cutting and stabbing the English soldiers as they -endeavored to get to arms. - -Douglas forced his way to the pavilion of the King himself, and very -nearly carried the young prince prisoner out of the middle of his great -army. Edward’s chaplain, however, and many of his household, stood to -arms bravely in his defense, while the young King escaped by creeping -away beneath the canvas of his tent. The chaplain and several of the -King’s officers were slain; but the whole camp was now alarmed and in -arms, so that Douglas was obliged to retreat, which he did by bursting -through the English at the side of the camp opposite to that by which he -had entered. Being separated from his men in the confusion, he was in -great danger of being slain by an Englishman who encountered him with a -huge club. This man he killed, but with considerable difficulty; and then -blowing his horn to collect his soldiers, who soon gathered around him, -he returned to the Scottish camp, having sustained very little loss. - -Edward, much mortified at the insult which he had received, became still -more desirous of chastising those audacious adversaries; and one of them -at least was not unwilling to afford him an opportunity of revenge. This -was Thomas Randolph, Earl of Murray. He asked Douglas, when he returned -to the Scottish camp, what he had done. “We have drawn some blood.”—“Ah,” -said the Earl, “had we gone all together to the night attack, we should -have discomfited them.”—“It might well have been so,” said Douglas, -“but the risk would have been too great.”—“Then will we fight them in -open battle,” said Randolph, “for if we remain here, we shall in time -be famished for want of provisions.”—“Not so,” replied Douglas; “we -will deal with this great army of the English as the fox did with the -fisherman in the fable.”—“And how was that?” said the Earl of Murray. -Hereupon the Douglas told him this story: - -“A fisherman,” he said, “had made a hut by a river side, that he might -follow his occupation of fishing. Now, one night he had gone out to look -after his nets, leaving a small fire in his hut; and when he came back, -behold there was a fox in the cabin, taking the liberty to eat one of the -finest salmon he had taken. ‘Ho, Mr. Robber!’ said the fisherman, drawing -his sword, and standing in the doorway to prevent the fox’s escape, ‘you -shall presently die the death.’ The poor fox looked for some hole to get -out at, but saw none; whereupon he pulled down with his teeth a mantle, -which was lying on the bed, and dragged it across the fire. The fisherman -ran to snatch his mantle from the fire—the fox flew out at the door with -the salmon; and so,” said Douglas, “shall we escape the great English -army by subtlety, and without risking battle with so large a force.” - -Randolph agreed to act by Douglas’s counsel, and the Scottish army -kindled great fires through their encampment, and made a noise and -shouting, and blowing of horns, as if they meant to remain all night -there, as before. But in the meantime, Douglas had caused a road to -be made through two miles of a great morass which lay in their rear. -This was done by cutting down to the bottom of the bog, and filling the -trench with faggots of wood. Without this contrivance it would have -been impossible that the army could have crossed; and through this -passage, which the English never suspected, Douglas and Randolph, and -all their men, moved at the dead of night. They did not leave so much as -an errand-boy behind, and so bent their march toward Scotland, leaving -the English disappointed and affronted. Great was their wonder in the -morning, when they saw the Scottish camp empty, and found no living man -in it, but two or three English prisoners tied to trees, whom they had -left with an insulting message to the King of England, saying that if -he were displeased with what they had done, he might come and revenge -himself in Scotland. - -After this a peace was concluded with Robert Bruce, on terms highly -honorable to Scotland; for the English King renounced all pretensions -to the sovereignty of the country, and, moreover, gave his sister, a -princess called Joanna, to be wife to Robert Bruce’s son, called David. -This treaty was very advantageous to the Scots. It was called the treaty -of Northampton, because it was concluded at that town, in the year 1328. - -Good King Robert did not long survive this joyful event. He was not -aged more than four-and-fifty years, but, as I said before, his bad -health was caused by the hardships which he sustained during his youth, -and at length he became very ill. Finding that he could not recover, -he assembled around his bedside the nobles and counselors in whom he -most trusted. He told them that now, being on his death-bed, he sorely -repented all his misdeeds, and particularly, that he had, in his passion, -killed Comyn with his own hand, in the church and before the altar. He -said that if he had lived, he had intended to go to Jerusalem, to make -war upon the Saracens who held the Holy Land, as some expiation for the -evil deeds he had done. The King soon afterwards expired and his body was -laid in the sepulcher in the midst of the church of Dunfermline, under a -marble stone. But the church becoming afterwards ruinous, and the roof -falling down with age, the monument was broken to pieces, and nobody -could tell where it stood. But six or seven years ago, when they were -repairing the church at Dunfermline, and removing the rubbish, lo! they -found fragments of the marble tomb of Robert Bruce. Then they began to -dig farther, thinking to discover the body of this celebrated monarch; -and at length they came to the skeleton of a tall man, and they knew it -must be that of King Robert, as he was known to have been buried in a -winding sheet of cloth of gold, of which many fragments were found about -this skeleton. So orders were sent from the King’s Court of Exchequer -to guard the bones carefully, until a new tomb should be prepared, into -which they were laid with profound respect. A great many gentlemen and -ladies attended, and almost all the common people in the neighborhood; -and as the church could not hold half the numbers, the people were -allowed to pass through it, one after another, that each one, the -poorest as well as the richest, might see all that remained of the great -King, Robert Bruce, who restored the Scottish monarchy. - -It is more than five hundred years since the body of Bruce was first -laid into the tomb; and how many, many millions of men have died since -that time. It was a great thing to see that the wisdom, courage, and -patriotism of a King could preserve him for such a long time in the -memory of the people over whom he once reigned. But then, my dear -child, you must remember that it is only desirable to be remembered for -praiseworthy and patriotic actions, such as those of Robert Bruce. It -would be better for a prince to be forgotten like the meanest peasant -than to be recollected for actions of tyranny or oppression. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Discussion.= 1. What was the condition of King Robert at the - opening of the story? 2. What is said about King Edward III? 3. Who - were the “red-shanks”? 4. Why could these forces move so easily and - quickly? 5. Describe the Scottish camp on the Wear. 6. What was King - Edward’s proposition? 7. What was the lesson Douglas gave the young - King? 8. What do you think of this exploit? 9. What is the story - of the fisherman and the fox? 10. What is the significance of this - story? 11. What was Douglas’s plan of escape? 12. What qualities - does Douglas show in these exploits? 13. What part did the Scottish - peasantry take in the struggle for independence? 14. What were the - terms of the treaty of Northampton? 15. What was King Robert’s - great regret? 16. Describe the finding of Robert Bruce’s remains in - Dunfermline. 17. Pronounce the following: dexterous; adversaries; - subtlety; affronted; advantageous; tyranny. - - If you have enjoyed these stories, inquire at the library for a - copy of _Tales of a Grandfather_, and read other stories, such as - “Macbeth,” “Tournaments,” “King David,” and “James I.” - - =Phrases= - - acquired in consequence, 318, 9 - lay waste, 318, 25 - wooden spits, 319, 1 - dexterity in marching, 320, 20 - Saint George, 320, 34 - Saint Andrew, 320, 36 - pavilion of the King, 321, 12 - audacious adversaries, 321, 28 - renounced all pretensions, 323, 2 - King’s Court of Exchequer, 323, 32 - - -THE PARTING OF MARMION AND DOUGLAS - -SIR WALTER SCOTT - - Not far advanced was morning day, - When Marmion did his troop array, - To Surrey’s camp to ride; - He had safe conduct for his band, - Beneath the royal seal and hand, - And Douglas gave a guide. - - The train from out the castle drew, - But Marmion stopped to bid adieu: - “Though something I might ’plain,” he said, - “Of cold respect to stranger guest, - Sent hither by your King’s behest, - While in Tantallon’s towers I stayed, - Part we in friendship from your land, - And, noble Earl, receive my hand.” - But Douglas round him drew his cloak, - Folded his arms, and thus he spoke: - “My manors, halls, and bowers shall still - Be open, at my Sovereign’s will, - To each one whom he lists, howe’er - Unmeet to be the owner’s peer. - My castles are my King’s alone, - From turret to foundation stone; - The hand of Douglas is his own, - And never shall, in friendly grasp, - The hand of such as Marmion clasp.” - - Burned Marmion’s swarthy cheek like fire, - And shook his very frame for ire; - And “This to me,” he said, - “An’ ’twere not for thy hoary beard, - Such hand as Marmion’s had not spared - To cleave the Douglas’ head! - And, first, I tell thee, haughty peer, - He, who does England’s message here, - Although the meanest in her state, - May well, proud Angus, be thy mate: - And, Douglas, more, I tell thee here, - Even in thy pitch of pride— - Here, in thy hold, thy vassals near, - I tell thee, thou’rt defied! - And if thou said’st I am not peer - To any lord in Scotland here, - Lowland or Highland, far or near, - Lord Angus, thou hast lied!” - - On the Earl’s cheek, the flush of rage - O’ercame the ashen hue of age; - Fierce he broke forth: “And dar’st thou then - To beard the lion in his den, - The Douglas in his hall? - And hop’st thou hence unscathed to go? - No, by Saint Bride of Bothwell, no! - Up drawbridge, grooms—what, warder, ho! - Let the portcullis fall.” - Lord Marmion turned—well was his need, - And dashed the rowels in his steed; - Like arrow through the archway sprung; - The ponderous grate behind him rung— - To pass there was such scanty room, - The bars, descending, razed his plume. - - The steed along the drawbridge flies, - Just as it trembled on the rise; - Nor lighter does the swallow skim - Along the smooth lake’s level brim; - And when Lord Marmion reached his band - He halts, and turns with clinchéd hand - And shout of loud defiance pours, - And shook his gauntlet at the towers, - “Horse! horse!” the Douglas cried, “and chase!” - But soon he reined his fury’s pace: - “A royal messenger he came, - Though most unworthy of the name. - Saint Mary mend my fiery mood! - Old age ne’er cools the Douglas’ blood; - I thought to slay him where he stood. - ’Tis pity of him, too,” he cried; - “Bold he can speak, and fairly ride— - I warrant him a warrior tried.” - With this his mandate he recalls, - And slowly seeks his castle halls. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Note.= Marmion, an English nobleman, has been sent as an envoy by - Henry the Eighth, King of England, to James the Fourth, King of - Scotland. The two countries are on the eve of war with each other. - Arriving in Edinburgh, Marmion is entrusted by King James to the care - and hospitality of Douglas, Earl of Angus, who, taking him to his - castle at Tantallon, treats him with the respect due his position as - representative of the King, but at the same time dislikes him. The - war approaching, Marmion leaves to join the English camp. This sketch - describes the leave-taking. - - =Discussion.= 1. In what part of the castle does this conversation - take place? 2. Why did Douglas refuse to receive the hand of Marmion? - 3. Read the lines that give a vivid picture of the defiant Douglas. - 4. What distinction does Douglas make between the ownership of his - “castle” and that of his “hand”? 5. How does Marmion answer the - implied insult in “howe’er unmeet to be the owner’s peer”? 6. What - claim does Marmion make for one “who does England’s message”? 7. What - do we call one “who does England’s message” at Washington? 8. What - does Douglas mean by “to beard the lion in his den”? 9. What lines - show Marmion’s narrow escape? 10. Why do you think Douglas changed - his mind? 11. Would you have admired him more if he had given chase - to Marmion? 12. Which man appears to better advantage in this scene? - - =Phrases= - - troop array, 325, 2 - safe conduct, 325, 4 - something I might ’plain, 325, 9 - pitch of pride, 326, 8 - in thy hold, 326, 9 - dashed the rowels, 326, 25 - - -BANNOCKBURN - -ROBERT BURNS - - Scots, wha hae wi’[24] Wallace bled, - Scots, wham[25] Bruce has aften led; - Welcome to your gory bed, - Or to victory! - - Now’s the day, and now’s the hour; - See the front o’ battle lour; - See approach proud Edward’s power— - Chains and slavery! - - Wha will be a traitor knave? - Wha can fill a coward’s grave? - Wha sae[26] base as be a slave? - Let him turn and flee! - - Wha for Scotland’s king and law - Freedom’s sword will strongly draw, - Freeman stand, or Freeman fa’,[27] - Let him follow me! - - By oppression’s woes and pains! - By your sons in servile chains! - We will drain our dearest veins, - But they shall be free! - - Lay the proud usurpers low! - Tyrants fall in every foe! - Liberty’s in every blow!— - Let us do or die! - -[24] _wha hae wi’_, who have with - -[25] _wham_, whom - -[26] _sae_, so - -[27] _fa’_, fall - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 63. - - =Historical Note.= Burns wrote this ode to fit an old air, said in - Scottish tradition to have been Robert Bruce’s march at the battle - of Bannockburn. “This thought,” he says, “in my solitary wanderings, - has warmed me to a pitch of enthusiasm on the theme of liberty and - independence.” The story is told that Burns wrote this poem while - riding on horseback over a wild moor in Scotland in company with a - Mr. Syme, who, observing the expression on the poet’s face, refrained - from speaking to him. Doubtless this vigorous hymn was singing itself - through the soul of Burns as he wrote it. The poem is considered the - most stirring war ode ever written. - - =Discussion.= 1. Who is supposed to speak the words? 2. To whom are - they supposed to be addressed? 3. For what did Bruce contend? 4. What - patriot before him had fought against great odds in the same cause? - 5. In these lines, what choice does Bruce offer his army? 6. To - what deep feeling does he appeal? 7. Does this poem represent truly - Bruce’s own feeling for his country, as history acquaints us with it? - 8. Which are the most stirring lines? 9. What was Burns’s purpose in - writing it? 10. What influence does such a poem have? - - =Phrases= - - traitor knave, 328, 9 - servile chains, 328, 18 - dearest veins, 328, 19 - proud usurpers, 328, 21 - - - - -ENGLAND AND FREEDOM - -[Illustration] - - -THE LAST FIGHT OF THE REVENGE - -SIR WALTER RALEIGH - -The Lord Thomas Howard, with six of her Majesty’s ships, six victuallers -of London, the bark _Raleigh_, and two or three pinnaces, riding at -anchor near unto Flores, one of the westerly islands of the Azores, -the last of August in the afternoon, had intelligence by one Captain -Middleton of the approach of the Spanish Armada. - -He had no sooner delivered the news but the fleet was in sight. Many of -our ships’ companies were on shore in the island, some providing ballast -for their ships, others filling of water and refreshing themselves from -the land with such things as they could either for money or by force -recover. By reason whereof our ships being all pestered and every thing -out of order, very light for want of ballast, and that which was most to -our disadvantage, the one half of the men of every ship sick and utterly -unserviceable. For in the _Revenge_ there were ninety diseased; in the -_Bonaventure_, not so many in health as could handle her mainsail; the -rest, for the most part, were in little better state. - -The names of her Majesty’s ships were these, as followeth: the -_Defiance_, which was Admiral, the _Revenge_, Vice Admiral, the -_Bonaventure_, commanded by Captain Crosse, the _Lion_, by George Fenner, -the _Foresight_, by Thomas Vavisour, and the _Crane_, by Duffield; the -_Foresight_ and the _Crane_ being but small ships only—the others were of -middle size. The rest, besides the bark _Raleigh_, commanded by Captain -Thin, were victuallers, and of small force or none. - -The Spanish fleet, having shrouded their approach by reason of the -island, were now so soon at hand as our ships had scarce time to weigh -their anchors, but some of them were driven to let slip their cables and -set sail. Sir Richard Grenville was the last weighed, to recover the -men that were upon the island, which otherwise had been lost. The Lord -Thomas with the rest very hardly recovered the wind, which Sir Richard -Grenville not being able to do, was persuaded by the master and others to -cut his mainsail and cast about, and to trust to the sailing of his ship. -But Sir Richard utterly refused to turn from the enemy, alleging that he -would rather choose to die than to dishonor himself, his country, and her -Majesty’s ship, persuading his company that he would pass through the two -squadrons in despite of them and enforce those of Seville to give him -way. Which he performed upon divers of the foremost, who, as the mariners -term it, fell under the lee of the _Revenge_. - -In the meanwhile, as he attended those which were nearest him, the great -_San Philip_, being in the wind of him, and coming toward him, becalmed -his sails—so huge was the Spanish ship, being of a thousand and five -hundred tons; who afterlaid the _Revenge_ aboard. When he was thus bereft -of his sails, the ships that were under his lee also laid him aboard; -of which the next was the admiral of the Biscayans, a very mighty and -puissant ship commanded by Brittan Dona. The said _Philip_ carried three -tier of ordnance on a side and eleven pieces in every tier. - -After the _Revenge_ was entangled with this _Philip_, four others boarded -her, two on her larboard and two on her starboard. The fight thus -beginning at three of the clock in the afternoon continued very terrible -all that evening. But the great _San Philip_, having received the lower -tier of the _Revenge_, shifted herself with all diligence from her -sides, utterly misliking her first entertainment. Some say that the ship -foundered, but we cannot report it for truth unless we were assured. - -The Spanish ships were filled with companies of soldiers, in some two -hundred besides the mariners, in some five, in others eight hundred. In -ours there were none at all besides the mariners but the servants of the -commanders and some few voluntary gentlemen only. - -After many interchanged volleys of great ordnance and small shot, the -Spaniards deliberated to enter the _Revenge_, and made divers attempts, -hoping to force her by the multitudes of their armed soldiers and -musketeers, but were still repulsed again and again, and at all times -beaten back into their own ships or into the seas. In the beginning -of the fight, the _George Noble_ of London, having received some shot -through her by the armados, asked Sir Richard what he would command him, -being but one of the victuallers and of small force. Sir Richard bade him -save himself, and leave him to his fortune. - -After the fight had thus without intermission continued while the day -lasted and some hours of the night, many of our men were slain and hurt, -and one of the great galleons of the Armada and the admiral of the Hulks -both sunk, and in many other of the Spanish ships great slaughter was -made. Some write that Sir Richard was very dangerously hurt almost in the -beginning of the fight and lay speechless for a time ere he recovered. -But two of the _Revenge’s_ own company affirmed that he was never so -wounded as that he forsook the upper deck till an hour before midnight; -and then being shot into the body with a musket, as he was a-dressing was -again shot into the head, and withal his chirurgeon wounded to death. - -But to return to the fight, the Spanish ships which attempted to board -the _Revenge_, as they were wounded and beaten off, so always others came -in their places, she having never less than two mighty galleons by her -sides and aboard her. So that ere the morning from three of the clock the -day before, there had fifteen several armados assailed her; and all so -ill approved their entertainment, as they were by the break of day far -more willing to hearken to a composition than hastily to make any more -assaults or entries. But as the day increased so our men decreased; and -as the light grew more and more, by so much more grew our discomforts. -For none appeared in sight but enemies, saving one small ship called the -_Pilgrim_, commanded by Jacob Whiddon, who hovered all night to see the -success; but in the morning was hunted like a hare among many ravenous -hounds, but escaped. - -All the powder of the _Revenge_ to the last barrel was now spent, all -her pikes broken, forty of her best men slain, and the most part of the -rest hurt. In the beginning of the fight she had but one hundred free -from sickness, and fourscore and ten sick. A small troop to man such a -ship, and a weak garrison to resist so mighty an army! By those hundred -all was sustained, the volleys, boardings, and enterings of fifteen ships -of war. On the contrary the Spanish were always supplied with soldiers -brought from every squadron, all manner of arms and powder at will. Unto -ours there remained no comfort at all, no hope, no supply either of -ships, men, or weapons; the masts all beaten overboard, all her tackle -cut asunder, her upper work altogether razed; and, in effect, even she -was with the water, but the very foundation or bottom of a ship, nothing -being left overhead either for flight or defense. - -Sir Richard finding himself in this distress, and unable any longer to -make resistance, having endured in this fifteen hours’ fight the assault -of fifteen several armados, all by turns aboard him, and by estimation -eight hundred shot of great artillery, besides many assaults and entries, -and that himself and the ship must needs be possessed by the enemy, who -were now cast in a ring round about him, the _Revenge_ not able to move -one way or other but as she was moved by the waves and billows of the -sea—commanded the master gunner, whom he knew to be a most resolute man, -to split and sink the ship, that thereby nothing might remain of glory -or victory to the Spaniards, seeing in so many hours’ fight and with so -great a navy, they were not able to take her, having had fifteen hours’ -time, fifteen thousand men, and fifty and three sail of men-of-war to -perform it withal; and persuaded the company, or as many as he could -induce, to yield themselves unto God, and to the mercy of none else, but, -as they had, like valiant resolute men, repulsed so many enemies, they -should not now shorten the honor of their nation by prolonging their own -lives for a few hours or a few days. - -The master gunner readily condescended, and divers others. But the -Captain and the Master were of another opinion and besought Sir Richard -to have care of them, alleging that the Spaniard would be as ready to -entertain a composition as they were willing to offer the same, and that -there being divers sufficient and valiant men yet living, and whose -wounds were not mortal, they might do their country and prince acceptable -service hereafter. - -And as the matter was thus in dispute, and Sir Richard refusing to -hearken to any of those reasons, the Master of the _Revenge_ (while the -Captain won unto him the greater party) was convoyed aboard the _General -Don Alfonso Bassan_. Who, finding none over hasty to enter the _Revenge_ -again, doubting lest Sir Richard would have blown them up and himself, -and perceiving by the report of the Master of the _Revenge_ his dangerous -disposition, yielded that all their lives should be saved. To this he -so much the rather condescended, as well, as I have said, for fear of -further loss and mischief to themselves, as also for the desire he had -to recover Sir Richard Grenville; whom for his notable valor he seemed -greatly to honor and admire. - -When this answer was returned, and that safety of life was promised, -the common sort being now at the end of their peril, the most drew back -from Sir Richard and the gunner, it being no hard matter to dissuade men -from death to life. The master gunner finding himself and Sir Richard -thus prevented and mastered by the greater number, would have slain -himself with a sword had he not been by force withheld and locked into -his cabin. Then the _General_ sent many boats aboard the _Revenge_, and -divers of our men, fearing Sir Richard’s disposition, stole away aboard -the _General_ and other ships. Sir Richard, thus overmatched, was sent -unto by Alfonso Bassan to remove out of the _Revenge_, the ship being -marvelous unsavory, filled with blood and bodies of dead and wounded men -like a slaughter-house. Sir Richard answered that he might do with his -body what he list, for he esteemed it not; and as he was carried out of -the ship he swooned, and reviving again desired the company to pray for -him. The General used Sir Richard with all humanity, and left nothing -unattempted that tended to his recovery, highly commending his valor and -worthiness and greatly bewailed the danger wherein he was, being unto -them a rare spectacle, to see one ship turn toward so many enemies, to -endure the charge and boarding of so many huge armados, and to resist and -repel the assaults and entries of so many soldiers. - -Sir Richard died, as it is said, the second or third day aboard the -_General_, and was by them greatly bewailed. What became of his body, -whether it was buried in the sea or on the land we know not; the comfort -that remaineth to his friends is that he hath ended his life honorably -in respect of the reputation won to his nation and country, and of the -same to his posterity, and that, being dead, he hath not outlived his own -honor. - -—_Abridged._ - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biographical and Historical Note.= In the autumn of 1591 a small - fleet of English vessels lay at the Azores to intercept the Spanish - treasure ships from the Indies. On the appearance of the Spanish - war-vessels sent to convoy the treasure ships, the much smaller - English fleet took flight with the exception of the _Revenge_, - commanded by Sir Richard Grenville. Lord Bacon described the fight as - “a defeat exceeding victory.” - - This story of the fight of the _Revenge_ was written by Sir Walter - Raleigh (1552-1618), a cousin of Grenville’s. He was an English - explorer, colonizer, and historian. He planted the first English - colony in America, on Roanoke Island, off the coast of North - Carolina. Later, he was interested in an attempt to form a colony - in Guiana, and his account of his experiences is one of the most - thrilling adventure stories in the world. His daring exploits made - him a favorite at the court of Queen Elizabeth, but after her death - he gained the ill-will of James I and was executed on a false charge - of piracy and treason. - - =Discussion.= 1. Describe the English fleet as it lay anchored near - Flores. 2. What was the condition of the men on the _Revenge_ and - the _Bonaventure_? 3. What two things could Sir Richard do? 4. Which - did he choose? Why? 5. How were the Spanish ships manned as compared - with the English? 6. What quality of character did Sir Richard show - in his treatment of the _George Noble_? 7. Describe the condition - of the _Revenge_ on the second day of the fighting. 8. What was Sir - Richard’s order to the master gunner? 9. What was the opinion of the - captain and the Master? 10. What do you think about the reasons - they gave? 11. What was the Spaniard’s offer? 12. Would you have - been on the side of the captain and the Master of the _Revenge_, or - on the side of Sir Richard and the master gunner? 13. Pronounce the - following: Armada; Azores; becalmed; tiers; bade; hovered; ravenous; - dissuade. - - =Phrases= - - providing ballast, 330, 9 - shrouded their approach, 331, 5 - weigh their anchors, 331, 8 - puissant ship, 331, 27 - hearken to a composition, 332, 35 - tackle cut asunder, 333, 17 - divers sufficient, 334, 7 - he esteemed it not, 334, 36 - - -YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND - -THOMAS CAMPBELL - - Ye Mariners of England, - That guard our native seas, - Whose flag has braved, a thousand years, - The battle and the breeze! - Your glorious standard launch again - To match another foe, - And sweep through the deep, - While the stormy winds do blow; - While the battle rages loud and long, - And the stormy winds do blow. - - The spirits of your fathers - Shall start from every wave!— - For the deck it was their field of fame, - And Ocean was their grave. - Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, - Your manly hearts shall glow, - As ye sweep through the deep, - While the stormy winds do blow; - While the battle rages loud and long - And the stormy winds do blow. - - Britannia needs no bulwarks, - No towers along the steep; - Her march is o’er the mountain-waves, - Her home is on the deep. - With thunders from her native oak - She quells the floods below, - As they roar on the shore, - When the stormy winds do blow; - When the battle rages loud and long - And the stormy winds do blow. - - The meteor flag of England - Shall yet terrific burn; - Till danger’s troubled night depart, - And the star of peace return. - Then, then, ye ocean-warriors! - Our song and feast shall flow - To the fame of your name, - When the storm has ceased to blow; - When the fiery fight is heard no more, - And the storm has ceased to blow. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 180. - - =Discussion.= 1. Which stanza refers to the present; which one to the - past; and which one to the future? 2. Why does the poet take this - view into the past and the future? 3. Notice the interesting rime in - the seventh line of every stanza. 4. Compare the eighth, ninth, and - tenth lines of the fourth stanza with the corresponding lines in the - other stanzas. 5. Notice the pleasing effect which the poet produces - by using, in one line, several words beginning with the same letter: - “battle,” “breeze,” “loud and long.” 6. Find other examples. 7. Show - that this poem, written long after Sir Richard Grenville’s death, - expresses the spirit in which he fought. - - =Phrases= - - glorious standard, 336, 5 - field of fame, 336, 13 - meteor flag, 337, 11 - danger’s troubled night, 337, 13 - star of peace, 337, 14 - ocean-warriors, 337, 15 - - -ENGLAND AND AMERICA NATURAL ALLIES - -JOHN RICHARD GREEN - -Whatever might be the importance of American independence in the history -of England, it was of unequaled moment in the history of the world. If it -crippled for a while the supremacy of the English nation, it founded the -supremacy of the English race. From the hour of American Independence the -life of the English people has flowed not in one current, but in two; and -while the older has shown little signs of lessening, the younger has fast -risen to a greatness which has changed the face of the world. In 1783 -America was a nation of three millions of inhabitants, scattered thinly -along the coast of the Atlantic Ocean. It is now [1877] a nation of forty -millions, stretching over the whole continent from the Atlantic to the -Pacific. In wealth and material energy, as in numbers, it far surpasses -the mother-country from which it sprang. It is already the main branch of -the English people; and in the days that are at hand the main current of -that people’s history must run along the channel not of the Thames or the -Mersey, but of the Hudson and the Mississippi. - -But distinct as these currents are, every year proves more clearly that -in spirit the English people are one. The distance that parted England -from America lessens every day. The ties that unite them grow every day -stronger. The social and political differences that threatened a hundred -years ago to form an impassable barrier between them grow every day less. -Against this silent and inevitable drift of things the spirit of narrow -isolation on either side the Atlantic struggles in vain. It is possible -that the two branches of the English people will remain forever separate -political existences. It is likely enough that the older of them may -again break in twain, and that the English people in the Pacific may -assert as distinct a national life as the two English peoples on either -side the Atlantic. But the spirit, the influence, of all these branches -will remain one. - -And in thus remaining one, before half a century is over it will change -the face of the world. As two hundred millions of Englishmen fill the -valley of the Mississippi, as fifty millions of Englishmen assert -their lordship over Australasia, this vast power will tell through -Britain on the old world of Europe, whose nations will have shrunk into -insignificance before it. What the issues of such a world-wide change may -be, not even the wildest dreamer would dare to dream. But one issue is -inevitable. In the centuries that lie before us, the primacy of the world -will lie with the English people. English institutions, English speech, -English thought, will become the main features of the political, the -social, and the intellectual life of mankind. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= John Richard Green (1837-1883) was born at Oxford, - England. In his early life he entered the ministry and became - not only an eloquent preacher, but an effective worker among his - parishioners. Ill health caused him to resign and devote his time - entirely to writing. He was a noted English historian, the author of - _A History of the English People_ and _The Making of England_. His - vivid imagination enabled him to picture the life of the people and - to make history interesting and popular. - - =Discussion.= 1. What do you think of the reasoning in the first - paragraph? 2. What victory was there in the political defeat of - the British government? 3. How is the distance between England and - America lessened today? 4. How are the ties between the two countries - being strengthened? 5. What does the author hint at in the last part - of the second paragraph? 6. What do you think of the prophecy in the - first sentence of the last paragraph? 7. Is his dream any nearer - reality today than when the author wrote these lines? 8. Pronounce - the following: Thames; isolation; inevitable; primacy. - - =Phrases= - - unequaled moment, 338, 2 - material energy, 338, 12 - impassable barrier, 338, 23 - inevitable drift, 338, 24 - narrow isolation, 338, 24 - political existences, 338, 27 - assert their lordship, 339, 3 - one issue is inevitable, 339, 7 - primacy of the world, 339, 8 - English institutions, 339, 9 - - -ENGLAND AND AMERICA IN 1782 - -ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON - - O Thou, that sendest out the man - To rule by land and sea, - Strong mother of a Lion-line, - Be proud of those strong sons of thine - Who wrench’d their rights from thee! - - What wonder, if in noble heat - Those men thine arms withstood, - Re-taught the lesson thou hadst taught, - And in thy spirit with thee fought— - Who sprang from English blood! - - But Thou rejoice with liberal joy, - Lift up thy rocky face, - And shatter, when the storms are black, - In many a streaming torrent back, - The seas that shock thy base! - - Whatever harmonies of law - The growing world assume, - Thy work is thine—the single note - From that deep chord which Hampden smote - Will vibrate to the doom. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 49. - - =Historical Note.= John Hampden (1594-1643) was a celebrated English - statesman and patriot. When Charles I attempted to impose a tax upon - his subjects without the authority of Parliament, Hampden refused to - pay. The King’s government brought suit against him, and although the - case was decided against Hampden, later the House of Lords ordered - the judgment of the court to be canceled. - - =Discussion.= 1. Why does the poet think England should be proud of - America? 2. Name some of the rights won by those of “English blood” - before this. 3. Read the lines that tell, in figurative language, - what England and Englishmen will do when their rights are attacked. - 4. Notice in the last stanza how the words _harmonies_, _note_, - _chord_, _smote_, and _vibrate_ all help to carry out the thought, - expressed in figurative language. 5. What was the “chord which - Hampden smote”? 6. Is it still “vibrating”? 7. Did the poet use the - same riming scheme in each of the stanzas? - - =Phrases= - - strong mother of a Lion-line, 340, 3 - wrench’d their rights, 340, 5 - in noble heat, 340, 6 - thine arms withstood, 340, 7 - re-taught the lesson thou hadst taught, 340, 8 - thy rocky face, 340, 12 - harmonies of law, 340, 16 - - -ENGLAND TO FREE MEN - -JOHN GALSWORTHY - - Men of my blood, you English men! - From misty hill and misty fen, - From cot, and town, and plow, and moor. - Come in—before I shut the door! - Into my courtyard paved with stones - That keep the names, that keep the bones, - Of none but English men who came - Free of their lives, to guard my fame. - - I am your native land who bred - No driven heart, no driven head; - I fly a flag in every sea - Round the old Earth, of Liberty! - I am the Land that boasts a crown; - The sun comes up, the sun goes down— - And never men may say of me, - Mine is a breed that is not free. - - I have a wreath! My forehead wears - A hundred leaves—a hundred years - I never knew the words: “You must!” - And shall my wreath return to dust? - Freemen! The door is yet ajar; - From northern star to southern star, - O ye who count and ye who delve, - Come in—before my clock strikes twelve! - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= John Galsworthy (1867-⸺) was born in Coombe, Surrey, - England, and has led the life of the typical English gentleman. After - spending five years at Harrow he went to Oxford University. In 1890 - he was admitted to the bar, but he disliked the profession of law and - never practiced it. He spent several years, after leaving college, in - foreign travel, and did not begin to write until he was thirty years - old. He has written a number of dramas dealing with social questions, - such as “Justice” and “Strife.” He is also well-known for his short - stories and novels. During the recent World War, Mr. Galsworthy - served several months in an English hospital for French soldiers. - - The poem “England to Free Men” was written when England was for the - first time about to adopt conscription as a method of recruiting an - army to oppose German aggression in Belgium and France. - - =Discussion.= 1. Who is supposed to be speaking in this poem? 2. Whom - does the speaker address? 3. Of what “courtyard” does the poet speak? - 4. What is the meaning of the first two lines of the second stanza? - 5. What kind of flag does the poet say England “flies in every sea”? - 6. Explain the “wreath” mentioned in the last stanza. 7. What does - the poet mean by “before my clock strikes twelve”? 8. What has been - America’s attitude toward conscription? 9. What impression of the - author do you gain from this poem? 10. Tell what you know of him. - - =Phrases= - - men of my blood, 341, 1 - free of their lives, 341, 7 - who bred no driven heart, 341, 9 - that boasts a crown, 341, 13 - the door is yet ajar, 342, 7 - ye who delve, 342, 9 - - -“MEN WHO MARCH AWAY” - -(Song of the Soldiers) - -THOMAS HARDY - - What of the faith and fire within us - Men who march away - Ere the barn-cocks say - Night is growing gray, - Leaving all that here could win us; - What of the faith and fire within us - Men who march away? - - Is it a purblind prank, O think you, - Friend with the musing eye, - Who watch us stepping by - With doubt and dolorous sigh? - Can much pondering so hoodwink you! - Is it a purblind prank, O think you, - Friend with the musing eye? - - Nay. We well see what we are doing, - Though some may not see, - Dalliers as they be; - England’s need are we; - Her distress would leave us rueing: - Nay. We well see what we are doing, - Though some may not see! - - In our heart of hearts believing - Victory crowns the just, - And that braggarts must - Surely bite the dust, - Press we to the field ungrieving, - In our heart of hearts believing - Victory crowns the just. - - Hence the faith and fire within us - Men who march away - Ere the barn-cocks say - Night is growing gray, - Leaving all that here could win us; - Hence the faith and fire within us - Men who march away. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Thomas Hardy (1840-⸺) was born in Dorsetshire, England. - He was educated at local schools and by private tutors. At the early - age of sixteen he was apprenticed to an architect of Worcester, in - which line of work he made sufficient success to win a prize for - design from the Architectural Association. At the same time he was - writing some verse and an occasional short story, and was at a loss - to know which kind of work to follow for a profession. However, after - 1870 he spent most of his time in writing. He excels as a short story - writer, his “The Three Strangers” appearing in a number of lists of - the one hundred best short stories. Among his other works, _Laughing - Stock and Other Verses_, _Under the Greenwood Tree_, and _A Pair - of Blue Eyes_ are widely known. Mr. Hardy was given the Order of - Merit in 1910. The Poem “Men Who March Away,” from _Selected Poems - of Thomas Hardy_, was written at the time the English soldiers were - entering the World War. - - =Discussion.= 1. What “faith and fire” must the soldier have who - freely enlists in the service of his country in war? 2. Whom does - the poet address in the second stanza? 3. Use other words instead - of “purblind prank.” 4. Explain the meaning of the fourth and fifth - lines of the third stanza. 5. Why does the poet say the soldiers - march away to war ungrieving? 6. What reason is given for the “faith - and fire” of the soldiers? 7. In the fourth stanza, with what belief - does the author accredit us? 8. What effect does the poet create by - repeating the first stanza in closing the poem? - - =Phrases= - - the faith and fire within us, 343, 1 - purblind prank, 343, 8 - friend with the musing eye, 343, 9 - dalliers as they be, 343, 17 - bite the dust, 343, 25 - to the field ungrieving, 343, 26 - - - - -EARLY AMERICAN SPIRIT OF FREEDOM - -[Illustration] - - -GRANDFATHER’S CHAIR - -NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE - - -HOW NEW ENGLAND WAS GOVERNED - -The children had now learned to look upon the chair with an interest -which was almost the same as if it were a conscious being and could -remember the many famous people whom it had held within its arms. - -Even Charley, lawless as he was, seemed to feel that this venerable chair -must not be clambered upon or overturned, although he had no scruple in -taking such liberties with every other chair in the house. Clara treated -it with still greater reverence, often taking occasion to smooth its -cushion and to brush the dust from the carved flowers and grotesque -figures of its oaken back and arms. Laurence would sometimes sit a whole -hour, especially at twilight, gazing at the chair and by the spell of his -imagination summoning up its ancient occupants to appear in it again. - -Little Alice evidently employed herself in a similar way, for once, when -Grandfather had gone abroad, the child was heard talking with the gentle -Lady Arbella as if she were still sitting in the chair. So sweet a child -as little Alice may fitly talk with angels such as Lady Arbella had long -since become. - -Grandfather was soon importuned for more stories about the chair. He had -no difficulty in relating them, for it really seemed as if every person -noted in our early history had on some occasion or other found repose -within its comfortable arms. If Grandfather took pride in anything, it -was in being the possessor of such an honorable and historic elbow-chair. - -“I know not precisely who next got possession of the chair after Governor -Vane went back to England,” said Grandfather, “but there is reason -to believe that President Dunster sat in it when he held the first -commencement at Harvard College. You have often heard, children, how -careful our forefathers were to give their young people a good education. -They had scarcely cut down trees enough to make room for their own -dwellings before they began to think of establishing a college. Their -principal object was to rear up pious and learned ministers, and hence -old writers call Harvard College a school of the prophets.” - -“Is the college a school of the prophets now?” asked Charley. - -“It is a long while since I took my degree, Charley. You must ask some -of the recent graduates,” answered Grandfather. “As I was telling you, -President Dunster sat in Grandfather’s chair in 1642 when he conferred -the degree of bachelor of arts on nine young men. They were the first in -America who had received that honor. And now, my dear auditors, I must -confess that there are contradictory statements and some uncertainty -about the adventures of the chair for a period of almost ten years. Some -say that it was occupied by your own ancestor, William Hawthorne, first -Speaker of the House of Representatives. I have nearly satisfied myself, -however, that during most of this questionable period it was literally -the chair of state. It gives me much pleasure to imagine that several -successive governors of Massachusetts sat in it at the council board.” - -“But, Grandfather,” interposed Charley, who was a matter-of-fact little -person, “what reason have you to imagine so?” - -“Pray do imagine it, Grandfather,” said Laurence. - -“With Charley’s permission I will,” replied Grandfather, smiling. “Let -us consider it settled, therefore, that Winthrop, Bellingham, Dudley, -and Endicott, each of them, when chosen governor, took his seat in our -great chair on Election day. In this chair, likewise, did those excellent -governors preside while holding consultation with the chief councilors -of the province, who were styled assistants. The governor sat in this -chair, too, whenever messages were brought to him from the chamber of -Representatives.” - -And here Grandfather took occasion to talk rather tediously about -the nature and forms of government that established themselves -almost spontaneously in Massachusetts and the other New England -colonies. Democracies were the natural growth of the new world. As -to Massachusetts, it was at first intended that the colony should be -governed by a council in London. But in a little while the people had -the whole power in their own hands, and chose annually the governor, the -councilors, and the representatives. The people of Old England had never -enjoyed anything like the liberties and privileges which the settlers -of New England now possessed. And they did not adopt these modes of -government after long study, but in simplicity, as if there were no other -way for people to be ruled. - -“But, Laurence,” continued Grandfather, “when you want instruction on -these points you must seek it in Mr. Bancroft’s History. I am merely -telling the history of a chair. To proceed. The period during which the -governors sat in our chair was not very full of striking incidents. The -province was now established on a secure foundation, but it did not -increase so rapidly as at first, because the Puritans were no longer -driven from England by persecution. However, there was still a quiet and -natural growth. The legislature incorporated towns and made new purchases -of lands from the Indians. A very memorable event took place in 1643. The -colonies of Massachusetts, Plymouth Connecticut, and New Haven formed a -union for the purpose of assisting each other in difficulties, for mutual -defense against their enemies. They called themselves the United Colonies -of New England.” - -“Were they under a government like that of the United States?” inquired -Laurence. - -“No,” replied Grandfather; “the different colonies did not compose one -nation together; it was merely a confederacy among the governments. It -somewhat resembled the league of the Amphictyons, which you remember -in Grecian history. But to return to our chair. In 1644 it was highly -honored, for Governor Endicott sat in it when he gave audience to an -ambassador from the French governor of Acadia, or Nova Scotia. A treaty -of peace between Massachusetts and the French colony was then signed.” - -“Did England allow Massachusetts to make war and peace with foreign -countries?” asked Laurence. - -“Massachusetts and the whole of New England were then almost independent -of the mother country,” said Grandfather. “There was now a civil war in -England, and the King, as you may well suppose, had his hands full at -home, and could pay but little attention to these remote colonies. When -the Parliament got the power into their hands they likewise had enough -to do in keeping down the Cavaliers. Thus New England, like a young and -hardy lad whose father and mother neglect it, was left to take care of -itself. In 1646, King Charles was beheaded. Oliver Cromwell then became -Protector of England, and, as he was a Puritan himself and had risen -by the valor of the English Puritans, he showed himself a loving and -indulgent father to the Puritan colonies in America.” - -Grandfather might have continued to talk in this dull manner nobody knows -how long, but, suspecting that Charley would find the subject rather dry, -he looked sidewise at that vivacious little fellow and saw him give an -involuntary yawn. Whereupon Grandfather proceeded with the history of the -chair, and related a very entertaining incident which will be found in -the next chapter. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-1864) was a master of the - short story as a means for interpreting character. His ancestors - were men of action—soldiers, seamen, and public officials. But he - was unlike them; all his life he was a dreamer who loved solitude - better than society. The subject of his dreaming was human character, - particularly the character of the Puritan founders of New England. - He told many legends of colonial times, some of them portraying the - stern methods of Governor Endicott, or telling a humorous story of - the Pine-Tree Shillings, or recounting the weird story of the old - gray champion who defied Governor Andros. But besides these legends - he wrote stories, visions of life in which one can scarcely draw - the line between reality and illusion; stories of lovers who sought - vainly for happiness; stories of a great stone face on the mountain - side, and what it signified. Somewhat longer than these tales—_Twice - Told Tales_ he called them—are his romances, such as _The Scarlet - Letter_, and _The House of the Seven Gables_. Besides his longer - romances he popularized New England history in the form of stories - for children. From one such book, _Grandfather’s Chair_, these - stories have been taken. - - =Discussion.= 1. What can you tell of the character of each of the - children, Charley, Clara, Laurence, and Alice, from their treatment - of the chair? 2. What interesting facts did you learn about Harvard - College and President Dunster? 3. Mention some of the famous - governors that sat in Grandfather’s chair. 4. What does Grandfather - mean by saying that “democracies were the natural growth of the new - world”? 5. Tell about the union known as the United Colonies of - New England. 6. What famous governor sat in the chair in 1644? 7. - What was the occasion? 8. Why was Oliver Cromwell friendly to the - colonies? 9. State three interesting facts which you have learned - regarding the government of New England. 10. Pronounce the following: - grotesque; importuned; tediously; spontaneously; memorable; vivacious. - - =Phrases= - - a conscious being, 345, 2 - venerable chair, 345, 6 - grotesque figures, 345, 10 - ancient occupants, 345, 13 - took my degree, 346, 18 - council board, 346, 31 - striking incidents, 347, 24 - league of the Amphictyons, 348, 2 - gave audience, 348, 5 - indulgent father, 348, 21 - - -THE PINE-TREE SHILLINGS - -“According to the most authentic records, my dear children,” said -Grandfather, “the chair about this time had the misfortune to break its -leg. It was probably on account of this accident that it ceased to be -the seat of the governors of Massachusetts, for, assuredly, it would -have been ominous of evil to the commonwealth if the chair of state had -tottered upon three legs. Being therefore sold at auction—alas! what -a vicissitude for a chair that had figured in such high company!—our -venerable friend was knocked down to a certain Captain John Hull. This -old gentleman, on carefully examining the maimed chair, discovered that -its broken leg might be clamped with iron and made as serviceable as -ever.” - -“Here is the very leg that was broken!” exclaimed Charley, throwing -himself down on the floor to look at it. “And here are the iron clamps. -How well it was mended!” - -When they had all sufficiently examined the broken leg Grandfather told -them a story about Captain John Hull and the Pine-tree Shillings. - -The Captain John Hull aforesaid was the mint-master of Massachusetts, -and coined all the money that was made there. This was a new line of -business, for in the earlier days of the colony the current coinage -consisted of gold and silver money of England, Portugal, and Spain. -These coins being scarce, the people were often forced to barter their -commodities instead of selling them. - -For instance, if a man wanted to buy a coat, he perhaps exchanged a -bear-skin for it. If he wished for a barrel of molasses, he might -purchase it with a pile of pine boards. Musket-bullets were used instead -of farthings. The Indians had a sort of money called wampum, which was -made of clam-shells, and this strange sort of specie was likewise taken -in payment of debts by the English settlers. Bank-bills had never been -heard of. There was not money enough of any kind, in many parts of the -country, to pay the salaries of the ministers, so that they sometimes had -to take quintals of fish, bushels of corn, or cords of wood instead of -silver or gold. - -As the people grew more numerous and their trade one with another -increased, the want of current money was still more sensibly felt. To -supply the demand the general court passed a law for establishing a -coinage of shillings, sixpences, and threepences. Captain John Hull was -appointed to manufacture this money, and was to have about one shilling -out of every twenty to pay him for the trouble of making them. - -Hereupon all the old silver in the colony was handed over to Captain -John Hull. The battered silver cans and tankards, I suppose, and silver -buckles, and broken spoons, and silver buttons of worn-out coats, and -silver hilts of swords that had figured at court—all such curious old -articles were doubtless thrown into the melting-pot together. But by far -the greater part of the silver consisted of bullion from the mines of -South America, which the English buccaneers—who were little better than -pirates—had taken from the Spaniards and brought to Massachusetts. - -All this old and new silver being melted down and coined, the result was -an immense amount of splendid shillings, sixpences, and threepences. -Each had the date 1652 on the one side and the figure of a pine tree on -the other. Hence they were called pine-tree shillings. And for every -twenty shillings that he coined, you will remember, Captain John Hull was -entitled to put one shilling into his own pocket. - -The magistrates soon began to suspect that the mint-master would have -the best of the bargain. They offered him a large sum of money if he -would but give up that twentieth shilling which he was continually -dropping into his own pocket. But Captain Hull declared himself perfectly -satisfied with the shilling. And well he might be, for so diligently did -he labor that in a few years his pockets, his money-bags, and his strong -box were over-flowing with pine-tree shillings. This was probably the -case when he came into possession of Grandfather’s chair; and, as he had -worked so hard at the mint, it was certainly proper that he should have a -comfortable chair to rest himself in. - -When the mint-master had grown very rich, a young man, Samuel Sewell -by name, came a-courting to his only daughter. His daughter—whose name -I do not know, but we will call her Betsey—was a fine, hearty damsel, -by no means so slender as some young ladies of our own days. On the -contrary, having always fed heartily on pumpkin pies, doughnuts, Indian -puddings, and other Puritan dainties, she was as round and plump as a -pudding herself. With this round, rosy Miss Betsey did Samuel Sewell fall -in love. As he was a young man of good character, industrious in his -business, and a member of the church, the mint-master very readily gave -his consent. - -“Yes, you may take her,” said he, in his rough way, “and you’ll find her -a heavy burden enough.” - -On the wedding-day we may suppose that honest John Hull dressed himself -in a plum-colored coat, all the buttons of which were made of pine-tree -shillings. The buttons of his waistcoat were sixpences, and the knees of -his small clothes were buttoned with silver threepences. Thus attired, he -sat with great dignity in Grandfather’s chair, and, being a portly old -gentleman, he completely filled it from elbow to elbow. On the opposite -side of the room, between her bridesmaids, sat Miss Betsey. She was -blushing with all her might, and looked like a full-blown peony or a -great red apple. - -There, too, was the bridegroom, dressed in a fine purple coat and -gold-lace waistcoat, with as much other finery as the Puritan laws and -customs would allow him to put on. His hair was cropped close to his -head, because Governor Endicott had forbidden any man to wear it below -the ears. But he was a very personable young man, and so thought the -bridesmaids and Miss Betsey herself. - -The mint-master also was pleased with his new son-in-law, especially as -he had courted Miss Betsey out of pure love, and had said nothing at all -about her portion. So, when the marriage ceremony was over, Captain Hull -whispered a word to two of his men-servants, who immediately went out, -and soon returned lugging in a large pair of scales. They were such a -pair as wholesale merchants use for weighing bulky commodities, and quite -a bulky commodity was now to be weighed in them. - -“Daughter Betsey,” said the mint-master, “get into one side of these -scales.” - -Miss Betsey—or Mrs. Sewell, as we must now call her—did as she was bid, -like a dutiful child, without any question of the why and wherefore. But -what her father could mean, unless to make her husband pay for her by the -pound (in which case she would have been a dear bargain), she had not the -least idea. - -“And now,” said honest John Hull to the servants, “bring that box hither.” - -The box to which the mint-master pointed was a huge, square, iron-bound -oaken chest; it was big enough, my children, for all four of you to play -at hide-and-seek in. The servants tugged with might and main, but could -not lift this enormous receptacle, and were finally obliged to drag it -across the floor. Captain Hull, then took a key from his girdle, unlocked -the chest, and lifted its ponderous lid. Behold! it was full to the brim -of bright pine-tree shillings fresh from the mint, and Samuel Sewell -began to think that his father-in-law had got possession of all the money -in the Massachusetts treasury. But it was only the mint-master’s honest -share of the coinage. - -Then the servants, at Captain Hull’s command, heaped double handfuls of -shillings into one side of the scales while Betsey remained in the other. -Jingle, jingle, went the shillings as handful after handful was thrown -in, till, plump and ponderous as she was, they fairly weighed the young -lady from the floor. - -“There, son Sewell!” cried the honest mint-master, resuming his seat in -Grandfather’s chair, “take these shillings for my daughter’s portion. Use -her kindly and thank Heaven for her. It is not every wife that’s worth -her weight in silver.” - -The children laughed heartily at this legend, and would hardly be -convinced but that Grandfather had made it out of his own head. He -assured them faithfully, however, that he had found it in the pages -of a grave historian, and had merely tried to tell it in a somewhat -funnier style. As for Samuel Sewell, he afterward became chief justice of -Massachusetts. - -“Well, Grandfather,” remarked Clara, “if wedding portions nowadays were -paid as Miss Betsey’s was, young ladies would not pride themselves upon -an airy figure, as many of them do.” - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Discussion.= 1. Describe bartering in the early colonial days. 2. - When was the coinage of money established by law? 3. Who was the - first mint master? 4. Upon what conditions did he manufacture the - coins? 5. What do you think of Captain Hull’s bargain? 6. Where did - the silver come from? 7. Describe the pine-tree shillings. 8. Tell - the story of the romance between Betsey Hull and Samuel Sewell. 9. - To what great position did Samuel Sewell attain? 10. Find out all - you can about our government mints today. 11. Where are some of them - located? 12. Where does the gold, silver, nickel, and copper come - from? 13. Pronounce the following: authentic; ominous; specie. - - =Phrases= - - authentic records, 349, 1 - ominous of evil, 349, 5 - knocked down, 349, 9 - current coinage, 350, 13 - barter their commodities, 350, 15 - strange sort of specie, 350, 21 - English buccaneers, 351, 5 - personable young man, 352, 16 - bulky commodities, 352, 25 - enormous receptacle, 353, 1 - - -THE STAMP ACT - -“Charley, my boy,” said Grandfather, “do you remember who was the last -occupant of the chair?” - -“It was Lieutenant-governor Hutchinson,” answered Charley. “Sir Francis -Bernard, the new governor, had given him the chair instead of putting -it away in the garret of the Province-house. And when we took leave -of Hutchinson he was sitting by his fireside and thinking of the past -adventures of the chair and of what was to come.” - -“Very well,” said Grandfather, “and you recollect that this was in 1763 -or thereabouts, at the close of the Old French War. Now, that you may -fully comprehend the remaining adventures of the chair, I must make some -brief remarks on the situation and character of the New England colonies -at this period.” - -So Grandfather spoke of the earnest loyalty of our fathers during the Old -French War and after the conquest of Canada had brought that war to a -triumphant close. - -The people loved and reverenced the King of England even more than if the -ocean had not rolled its waves between him and them, for at the distance -of three thousand miles they could not discover his bad qualities and -imperfections. Their love was increased by the dangers which they had -encountered in order to heighten his glory and extend his dominion. -Throughout the war the American colonists had fought side by side with -the soldiers of Old England, and nearly thirty thousand young men had -laid down their lives for the honor of King George. And the survivors -loved him the better because they had done and suffered so much for his -sake. - -But there were some circumstances that caused America to feel more -independent of England than at an earlier period. Canada and Acadia had -now become British provinces, and our fathers were no longer afraid of -the bands of French and Indians who used to assault them in old times. -For a century and a half this had been the great terror of New England. -Now the old French soldier was driven from the north forever. And even -had it been otherwise, the English colonies were growing so populous -and powerful that they might have felt fully able to protect themselves -without any help from England. - -There were thoughtful and sagacious men who began to doubt whether a -great country like America would always be content to remain under the -government of an island three thousand miles away. This was the more -doubtful because the English Parliament had long ago made laws which were -intended to be very beneficial to England at the expense of America. By -these laws the colonists were forbidden to manufacture articles for their -own use or to carry on trade with any nation but the English. - -“Now,” continued Grandfather, “if King George III and his counselors had -considered these things wisely, they would have taken another course than -they did. But when they saw how rich and populous the colonies had grown, -their first thought was how they might make more profit out of them than -heretofore. England was enormously in debt at the close of the Old French -War, and it was pretended that this debt had been contracted for the -defense of the American colonies, and that therefore a part of it ought -to be paid by them.” - -“Why, this was nonsense!” exclaimed Charley. “Did not our fathers spend -their lives, and their money too, to get Canada for King George?” - -“True, they did,” said Grandfather, “and they told the English rulers so. -But the King and his ministers would not listen to good advice. In 1765 -the British Parliament passed a stamp act.” - -“What was that?” inquired Charley. - -“The stamp act,” replied Grandfather, “was a law by which all deeds, -bonds, and other papers of the same kind were ordered to be marked with -the king’s stamp, and without this mark they were declared illegal and -void. Now, in order to get a blank sheet of paper with the king’s stamp -upon it, people were obliged to pay threepence more than the actual value -of the paper. And this extra sum of threepence was a tax and was to be -paid into the king’s treasury.” - -“I am sure threepence was not worth quarreling about!” remarked Clara. - -“It was not for threepence, nor for any amount of money, that America -quarreled with England,” replied Grandfather; “it was for a great -principle. The colonists were determined not to be taxed except by their -own representatives. They said that neither the King and Parliament nor -any other power on earth had a right to take their money out of their -pockets unless they freely gave it. And, rather than pay threepence when -it was unjustly demanded, they resolved to sacrifice all the wealth of -the country, and their lives along with it. They therefore made a most -stubborn resistance to the stamp act.” - -“That was noble!” exclaimed Laurence. “I understand how it was. If -they had quietly paid the tax of threepence, they would have ceased to -be freemen and would have become tributaries of England. And so they -contended about a great question of right and wrong, and put everything -at stake for it.” - -“You are right, Laurence,” said Grandfather, “and it was really amazing -and terrible to see what a change came over the aspect of the people the -moment the English Parliament had passed this oppressive act. The former -history of our chair, my children, has given you some idea of what a -harsh, unyielding, stern set of men the old Puritans were. For a good -many years back, however, it had seemed as if these characteristics were -disappearing. But no sooner did England offer wrong to the colonies than -the descendants of the early settlers proved that they had the same kind -of temper as their forefathers. The moment before, New England appeared -like a humble and loyal subject of the Crown; the next instant she showed -the grim, dark features of an old king-resisting Puritan.” - -Grandfather spoke briefly of the public measures that were taken in -opposition to the stamp act. As this law affected all the American -colonies alike, it naturally led them to think of consulting together -in order to procure its repeal. For this purpose the legislature of -Massachusetts proposed that delegates from every colony should meet in -congress. Accordingly, nine colonies, both Northern and Southern, sent -delegates to the city of New York. - -“And did they consult about going to war with England?” asked Charley. - -“No, Charley,” answered Grandfather; “a great deal of talking was yet -to be done before England and America could come to blows. The Congress -stated the rights and grievances of the colonists. They sent a humble -petition to the King and a memorial to the Parliament beseeching that the -stamp act might be repealed. This was all that the delegates had it in -their power to do.” - -“They might as well have stayed at home, then,” said Charley. - -“By no means,” replied Grandfather. “It was a most important and -memorable event, this first coming together of the American people by -their representatives from the North and South. If England had been wise, -she would have trembled at the first word that was spoken in such an -assembly.” - -These remonstrances and petitions, as Grandfather observed, were the work -of grave, thoughtful, and prudent men. Meantime the young and hot-headed -people went to work in their own way. It is probable that the petitions -of Congress would have had little or no effect on the British statesmen -if the violent deeds of the American people had not shown how much -excited the people were. Liberty Tree was soon heard of in England. - -“What was Liberty Tree?” inquired Clara. - -“It was an old elm tree,” answered Grandfather, “which stood near the -corner of Essex street, opposite the Boylston Market. Under the spreading -branches of this great tree the people used to assemble whenever they -wished to express their feelings and opinions. Thus, after a while it -seemed as if the liberty of the country was connected with Liberty Tree.” - -“It was glorious fruit for a tree to bear,” remarked Laurence. - -“It bore strange fruit sometimes,” said Grandfather. “One morning in -August, 1765, two figures were found hanging on the sturdy branches of -Liberty Tree. They were dressed in square-skirted coats and smallclothes, -and as their wigs hung down over their faces they looked like real men. -One was intended to represent the Earl of Bute, who was supposed to have -advised the King to tax America. The other was meant for the effigy of -Andrew Oliver, a gentleman belonging to one of the most respectable -families in Massachusetts.” - -“What harm had he done?” inquired Charley. - -“The King had appointed him to be distributer of the stamps,” answered -Grandfather. “Mr. Oliver would have made a great deal of money by this -business; but the people frightened him so much by hanging him in effigy, -and afterward by breaking into his house, that he promised to have -nothing to do with the stamps. And all the King’s friends throughout -America were compelled to make the same promise.” - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Discussion.= 1. Describe the loyalty of the colonists to King - George. 2. Give two reasons why the colonies began to feel more - and more independent. 3. What were some of the laws passed by the - English Parliament that made the colonies wish for independence? 4. - What was the Stamp Act? 5. Would you have felt as Clara did or as - Laurence felt? 6. Describe the change that these wrongs wrought in - the colonists. 7. Describe the congress proposed by the Massachusetts - legislature. 8. What did this congress do? 9. Why was this congress - so important? 10. How did Liberty Tree get its name? 11. What “fruit” - did it bear? 12. Pronounce the following: comprehend; sagacious; - tributaries; effigy; Parliament. - - =Phrases= - - sagacious men, 355, 11 - illegal and void, 356, 1 - stubborn resistance, 356, 17 - the aspect of the people, 356, 24 - oppressive act, 356, 26 - subject of the Crown, 356, 33 - public measures, 356, 34 - humble petition to the King, 357, 12 - memorable event, 357, 18 - remonstrances and petitions, 357, 22 - violent deeds, 357, 27 - hanging him in effigy, 358, 13 - - -BRITISH SOLDIERS STATIONED IN BOSTON - -The next evening, Clara, who remembered that our chair had been left -standing in the rain under Liberty Tree, earnestly besought Grandfather -to tell when and where it had next found shelter. Perhaps she was afraid -that the venerable chair, by being exposed to the inclemency of a -September gale, might get the rheumatism in its aged joints. - -“The chair,” said Grandfather, “after the ceremony of Mr. Oliver’s oath, -appears to have been quite forgotten by the multitude. Indeed, being -much bruised and rather rickety, owing to the violent treatment it had -suffered from the Hutchinson mob, most people would have thought that its -days of usefulness were over. Nevertheless, it was conveyed away under -cover of the night and committed to the care of a skillful joiner. He -doctored our old friend so successfully that in the course of a few days -it made its appearance in the public room of the British Coffee-house in -King Street.” - -“But why did not Mr. Hutchinson get possession of it again?” inquired -Charley. - -“I know not,” answered Grandfather, “unless he considered it a dishonor -and disgrace to the chair to have stood under Liberty Tree. At all -events, he suffered it to remain at the British Coffee-house, which -was the principal hotel in Boston. It could not possibly have found a -situation where it would be more in the midst of business and bustle, or -would witness more important events, or be occupied by a greater variety -of persons.” - -Grandfather went on to tell the proceedings of the despotic King and -ministry of England after the repeal of the stamp act. They could not -bear to think that their right to tax America should be disputed by the -people. In the year 1767, therefore, they caused Parliament to pass an -act for laying a duty on tea and some other articles that were in general -use. Nobody could now buy a pound of tea without paying a tax to King -George. This scheme was pretty craftily contrived, for the women of -America were very fond of tea, and did not like to give up the use of it. - -But the people were as much opposed to this new act of Parliament as -they had been to the stamp act. England, however, was determined that -they should submit. In order to compel their obedience two regiments, -consisting of more than seven hundred British soldiers, were sent to -Boston. They arrived in September, 1768, and were landed on Long Wharf. -Thence they marched to the Common with loaded muskets, fixed bayonets, -and great pomp and parade. So now at last the free town of Boston was -guarded and overawed by red-coats as it had been in the days of old Sir -Edmond Andros. - -In the month of November more regiments arrived. There were now four -thousand troops in Boston. The Common was whitened with their tents. -Some of the soldiers were lodged in Faneuil Hall, which the inhabitants -looked upon as a consecrated place because it had been the scene of a -great many meetings in favor of liberty. One regiment was placed in the -Town House, which we now call the Old State House. The lower floor of -this edifice had hitherto been used by the merchants as an exchange. In -the upper stories were the chambers of the judges, the representatives, -and the governor’s council. The venerable councilors could not assemble -to consult about the welfare of the province without being challenged by -sentinels and passing among the bayonets of the British soldiers. - -Sentinels likewise were posted at the lodgings of the officers in many -parts of the town. When the inhabitants approached, they were greeted by -the sharp question, “Who goes there?” while the rattle of the soldier’s -musket was heard as he presented it against their breasts. There was no -quiet even on the Sabbath day. The pious descendants of the Puritans -were shocked by the uproar of military music, the drum, fife, and bugle -drowning the holy organ-peal and the voices of the singers. It would -appear as if the British took every method to insult the feelings of the -people. - -“Grandfather,” cried Charley, impatiently, “the people did not go to -fighting half soon enough! These British red-coats ought to have been -driven back to their vessels the very moment they landed on Long Wharf.” - -“Many a hot-headed young man said the same as you do, Charley,” answered -Grandfather, “but the elder and wiser people saw that the time was not -yet come. Meanwhile, let us take another peep at our old chair.” - -“Ah, it drooped its head, I know,” said Charley, “when it saw how the -province was disgraced. Its old Puritan friends never would have borne -such doings.” - -“The chair,” proceeded Grandfather, “was now continually occupied by some -of the high Tories, as the King’s friends were called, who frequented the -British Coffee House. Officers of the custom-house too, which stood on -the opposite side of King Street, often sat in the chair wagging their -tongues against John Hancock.” - -“Why against him?” asked Charley. - -“Because he was a great merchant and contended against paying duties to -the King,” said Grandfather. - -“Well, frequently, no doubt, the officers of the British regiments, when -not on duty, used to fling themselves into the arms of our venerable -chair. Fancy one of them a red-nosed captain in his scarlet uniform, -playing with the hilt of his sword and making a circle of his brother -officers merry with ridiculous jokes at the expense of the poor Yankees. -And perhaps he would call for a bottle of wine or a steaming bowl of -punch and drink confusion to all rebels.” - -“Our grave old chair must have been scandalized at such scenes,” observed -Laurence—“the chair that had been the Lady Arbella’s and which the holy -apostle Eliot had consecrated.” - -“It certainly was little less than sacrilege,” replied Grandfather; “but -the time was coming when even the churches where hallowed pastors had -long preached the word of God were to be torn down or desecrated by the -British troops. Some years passed, however, before such things were done.” - -Grandfather now told his auditors that in 1769 Sir Francis Bernard went -to England, after having been governor of Massachusetts ten years. He was -a gentleman of many good qualities, an excellent scholar, and a friend -to learning. But he was naturally of an arbitrary disposition, and he had -been bred at the University of Oxford, where young men were taught that -the divine right of kings was the only thing to be regarded in matters -of government. Such ideas were ill adapted to please the people of -Massachusetts. They rejoiced to get rid of Sir Francis Bernard, but liked -his successor, Lieutenant-governor Hutchinson, no better than himself. - -About this period the people were much incensed at an act committed by -a person who held an office in the custom-house. Some lads or young men -were snowballing his windows. He fired a musket at them and killed a poor -boy only eleven years old. This event made a great noise in town and -country, and much increased the resentment that was already felt against -the servants of the Crown. - -“Now, children,” said Grandfather, “I wish to make you comprehend the -position of the British troops in King Street. This is the same which we -now call State Street. On the south side of the Town House, or Old State -House, was what military men call a court of guard, defended by two brass -cannons which pointed directly at one of the doors of the above edifice. -A large party of soldiers were always stationed in the court of guard. -The custom-house stood at a little distance down King Street, nearly -where the Suffolk Bank now stands, and a sentinel was continually pacing -before its front.” - -“I shall remember this tomorrow,” said Charley, “and I will go to State -Street, so as to see exactly where the British troops were stationed.” - -“And before long,” observed Grandfather, “I shall have to relate an event -which made King Street sadly famous on both sides of the Atlantic. The -history of our chair will soon bring us to this melancholy business.” - -Here Grandfather described the state of things which arose from the -ill-will that existed between the inhabitants and the red-coats. The -old and sober part of the townspeople were very angry at the government -for sending soldiers to overawe them. But those gray-headed men were -cautious, and kept their thoughts and feelings in their own breasts, -without putting themselves in the way of the British bayonets. - -The younger people, however, could hardly be kept within such prudent -limits. They reddened with wrath at the very sight of a soldier, and -would have been willing to come to blows with them at any moment. For it -was their opinion that every tap of a British drum within the peninsula -of Boston was an insult to the brave old town. - -“It was sometimes the case,” continued Grandfather, “that affrays -happened between such wild young men as these and small parties of the -soldiers. No weapons had hitherto been used except fists or cudgels. But -when men have loaded muskets in their hands, it is easy to foretell that -they will soon be turned against the bosoms of those who provoke their -anger.” - -“Grandfather,” said little Alice, looking fearfully into his face, “your -voice sounds as though you were going to tell us something awful.” - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Discussion.= 1. What act did Parliament pass after the repeal of - the Stamp Act? 2. What did England do to compel the colonists to - submit to this new act? 3. Why was it a good thing for the chair to - be in the British Coffee House? 4. Describe the British soldiers in - Boston, on the Common, in Faneuil Hall, and in the Old State House. - 5. How was the Sabbath spent? 6. What did the chair experience during - these days? 7. What happened at the custom-house? 8. What was the - difference in behavior between the older townspeople and the younger - ones? 9. What was the King’s purpose in stationing the British - soldiers in Boston? 10. Pronounce the following: inclemency; aged; - edifice; frequented. - - =Phrases= - - exposed to the inclemency, 359, 5 - under cover of the night, 359, 12 - committed to the care, 359, 13 - skillful joiner, 359, 13 - craftily contrived, 359, 33 - the Common, 360, 9 - pomp and parade, 360, 10 - venerable councilors, 360, 22 - arbitrary disposition, 362, 2 - divine right of kings, 362, 4 - court of guard, 362, 20 - within such prudent limits, 363, 3 - - -THE BOSTON MASSACRE - -Little Alice, by her last remark, proved herself a good judge of what was -expressed by the tones of Grandfather’s voice. He had given the above -description of the enmity between the townspeople and the soldiers in -order to prepare the minds of his auditors for a very terrible event. It -was one that did more to heighten the quarrel between England and America -than anything that had yet occurred. - -Without further preface Grandfather began the story of the Boston -Massacre. - -It was now the 3d of March, 1770. The sunset music of the British -regiments was heard as usual throughout the town. The shrill fife and -rattling drum awoke the echoes in King Street while the last ray of -sunshine was lingering on the cupola of the Town House, And now all -the sentinels were posted. One of them marched up and down before the -custom-house, treading a short path through the snow and longing for the -time when he would be dismissed to the warm fireside of the guard-room. -Meanwhile, Captain Preston was perhaps sitting in our great chair before -the hearth of the British Coffee House. In the course of the evening -there were two or three slight commotions which seemed to indicate that -trouble was at hand. Small parties of young men stood at the corners of -the streets or walked along the narrow pavements. Squads of soldiers -who were dismissed from duty passed by them, shoulder to shoulder, with -the regular step which they had learned at the drill. Whenever these -encounters took place it appeared to be the object of the young men to -treat the soldiers with as much incivility as possible. - -“Turn out, you lobster-backs!” one would say. “Crowd them off the -sidewalks!” another would cry. “A red-coat has no right in Boston -streets!” - -“Oh, you rebel rascals!” perhaps the soldiers would reply, glaring -fiercely at the young men. “Some day or other we’ll make our way through -Boston streets at the point of the bayonet!” - -Once or twice such disputes as these brought on a scuffle, which passed -off, however, without attracting much notice. About eight o’clock, for -some unknown cause, an alarm bell rang loudly and hurriedly. - -At the sound many people ran out of their houses, supposing it to be an -alarm of fire. But there were no flames to be seen, nor was there any -smell of smoke in the clear, frosty air, so that most of the townsmen -went back to their own firesides and sat talking with their wives and -children about the calamities of the times. Others who were younger and -less prudent remained in the streets, for there seems to have been a -presentiment that some strange event was on the eve of taking place. - -Later in the evening, not far from nine o’clock, several young men passed -by the Town House and walked down King Street. The sentinel was still -on his post in front of the custom-house, pacing to and fro, while as -he turned, a gleam of light from some neighboring window glittered on -the barrel of his musket. At no great distance were the barracks and the -guard-house, where his comrades were probably telling stories of battle -and bloodshed. - -Down toward the custom-house, as I told you, came a party of wild young -men. When they drew near the sentinel he halted on his post and took his -musket from his shoulder, ready to present the bayonet at their breasts. - -“Who goes there?” he cried, in the gruff, peremptory tones of a soldier’s -challenge. - -The young men, being Boston boys, felt as if they had a right to walk -their own streets without being accountable to a British red-coat, even -though he challenged them in King George’s name. They made some rude -answer to the sentinel. There was a dispute, or perhaps a scuffle. Other -soldiers heard the noise, and ran hastily from the barracks to assist -their comrades. At the same time many of the townspeople rushed into -King Street by various avenues and gathered in a crowd round about the -custom-house. It seemed wonderful how such a multitude had started up all -of a sudden. - -The wrongs and insults which the people had been suffering for many -months now kindled them into a rage. They threw snowballs and lumps of -ice at the soldiers. As the tumult grew louder it reached the ears of -Captain Preston, the officer of the day. He immediately ordered eight -soldiers of the main guard to take their muskets and follow him. They -marched across the street, forcing their way roughly through the crowd -and pricking the townspeople with their bayonets. - -A gentleman (it was Henry Knox, afterward general of the American -artillery) caught Captain Preston’s arm. - -“For Heaven’s sake, sir,” exclaimed he, “take heed what you do or there -will be bloodshed!” - -“Stand aside!” answered Captain Preston, haughtily. “Do not interfere, -sir. Leave me to manage the affair.” - -Arriving at the sentinel’s post, Captain Preston drew up his men in -a semicircle with their faces to the crowd and their rear to the -custom-house. When the people saw the officer and beheld the threatening -attitude with which the soldiers fronted them their rage became almost -uncontrollable. - -“Fire, you lobster-backs!” bellowed some. - -“You dare not fire, you cowardly red-coats!” cried others. - -“Rush upon them!” shouted many voices. “Drive the rascals to their -barracks! Down with them! Down with them! Let them fire if they dare!” - -Amid the uproar the soldiers stood glaring at the people with the -fierceness of men whose trade was to shed blood. - -Oh, what a crisis had now arrived! Up to this very moment the angry -feelings between England and America might have been pacified. England -had but to stretch out the hand of reconciliation and acknowledge that -she had hitherto mistaken her rights, but would do so no more. Then the -ancient bonds of brotherhood would again have been knit together as -firmly as in old times. The habit of loyalty which had grown as strong -as instinct was not utterly overcome. The perils shared, the victories -won, in the Old French War, when the soldiers of the colonies fought -side by side with their comrades from beyond the sea, were unforgotten -yet. England was still that beloved country which the colonists called -their home. King George, though he had frowned upon America, was still -reverenced as a father. - -But should the King’s soldiers shed one drop of American blood, then it -was a quarrel to the death. Never, never would America rest satisfied -until she had torn down the royal authority and trampled it in the dust. - -“Fire if you dare, villains!” hoarsely shouted the people while the -muzzles of the muskets were turned upon them. “You dare not fire!” - -They appeared ready to rush upon the level bayonets. Captain Preston -waved his sword and uttered a command which could not be distinctly -heard amid the uproar of shouts that issued from a hundred throats. But -his soldiers deemed that he had spoken the fatal mandate, “Fire!” The -flash of their muskets lighted up the street, and the report rang loudly -between the edifices. It was said, too, that the figure of a man with a -cloth hanging down over his face was seen to step into the balcony of the -custom-house and discharge a musket at the crowd. - -A gush of smoke had overspread the scene. It rose heavily, as if it were -loath to reveal the dreadful spectacle beneath it. Eleven of the sons of -New England lay stretched upon the street. Some, sorely wounded, were -struggling to rise again. Others stirred not nor groaned, for they were -past all pain. Blood was streaming upon the snow, and that purple stain -in the midst of King Street, though it melted away in the next day’s sun, -was never forgotten nor forgiven by the people. - -Grandfather was interrupted by the violent sobs of little Alice. In his -earnestness he had neglected to soften down the narrative so that it -might not terrify the heart of this unworldly infant. Since Grandfather -began the history of our chair little Alice had listened to many tales -of war, but probably the idea had never really impressed itself upon her -mind that men had shed the blood of their fellow-creatures. And now that -this idea was forcibly presented to her, it affected the sweet child with -bewilderment and horror. - -“I ought to have remembered our dear little Alice,” said Grandfather -reproachfully to himself. “Oh, what a pity! Her heavenly nature has now -received its first impression of earthly sin and violence.—Well, Clara, -take her to bed and comfort her. Heaven grant that she may dream away -the recollection of the Boston massacre!” - -“Grandfather,” said Charley when Clara and little Alice had retired, “did -not the people rush upon the soldiers and take revenge?” - -“The town drums beat to arms,” replied Grandfather, “the alarm-bells -rang, and an immense multitude rushed into King Street. Many of them had -weapons in their hands. The British prepared to defend themselves. A -whole regiment was drawn up in the street expecting an attack, for the -townsmen appeared ready to throw themselves upon the bayonets.” - -“And how did it end?” asked Charley. - -“Governor Hutchinson hurried to the spot,” said Grandfather, “and -besought the people to have patience, promising that strict justice -should be done. A day or two afterward the British troops were withdrawn -from town and stationed at Castle William. Captain Preston and the eight -soldiers were tried for murder, but none of them were found guilty. The -judges told the jury that the insults and violence which had been offered -to the soldiers justified them in firing at the mob.” - -“The Revolution,” observed Laurence, who had said but little during the -evening, “was not such a calm, majestic movement as I supposed. I do not -love to hear of mobs and broils in the street. These things were unworthy -of the people when they had such a great object to accomplish.” - -“Nevertheless, the world has seen no grander movement than that of our -Revolution from first to last,” said Grandfather. “The people, to a man, -were full of a great and noble sentiment. True, there may be much fault -to find with their mode of expressing this sentiment, but they knew no -better; the necessity was upon them to act out their feelings in the best -manner they could. We must forgive what was wrong in their actions, and -look into their hearts and minds for the honorable motives that impelled -them.” - -“And I suppose,” said Laurence, “there were men who knew how to act -worthily of what they felt.” - -“There were many such,” replied Grandfather, “and we will speak of some -of them hereafter.” - -Grandfather here made a pause. That night Charley had a dream about the -Boston massacre, and thought that he himself was in the crowd and struck -down Captain Preston with a great club. Laurence dreamed that he was -sitting in our great chair at the window of the British Coffee-house, and -beheld the whole scene which Grandfather had described. It seemed to him, -in his dream, that if the townspeople and the soldiers would have but -heard him speak a single word, all the slaughter might have been averted. -But there was such an uproar that it drowned his voice. - -The next morning the two boys went together to State Street and stood on -the very spot where the first blood of the Revolution had been shed. The -Old State House was still there, presenting almost the same aspect that -it had worn on that memorable evening one and seventy years ago. It is -the sole remaining witness of the Boston massacre. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Discussion.= 1. Describe the scene before the custom-house on the - evening of March 3, 1770. 2. What do you think of the conduct of the - young men of Boston? 3. How did it happen that the crowd gathered so - quickly? 4. What is your opinion of Captain Preston as compared with - Henry Knox? 5. Why was the situation called a crisis? 6. How could it - have been avoided? 7. What was the effect of the fateful order? 8. Do - you admire Governor Hutchinson’s stand? 9. What happened to Captain - Preston and his soldiers? 10. What defense did Captain Preston - probably make? 11. Do you sympathize with Laurence in his feeling - about the Revolution? 12. In what respects do you think the dreams - of the two boys expressed their natures? 13. Read the paragraphs - that seem to you most thrilling and dramatic. 14. Select sentences - that you think show Hawthorne’s skill at descriptive writing. 15. - Pronounce the following: hearth; incivility; peremptory; villains. - - =Phrases= - - awoke the echoes, 364, 12 - lingering on the cupola, 364, 13 - lobster-backs, 364, 28 - rebel rascals, 364, 31 - peremptory tones, 365, 24 - accountable to, 365, 27 - fatal mandate, 367, 12 - loath to reveal, 367, 18 - unworldly infant, 367, 27 - strict justice, 368, 14 - majestic movement, 368, 22 - mobs and broils, 368, 23 - necessity was upon them, 368, 30 - sole remaining witness, 369, 14 - - -SOME FAMOUS PORTRAITS - -The next evening the astral lamp was lighted earlier than usual, because -Laurence was very much engaged in looking over the collection of -portraits which had been his New Year’s gift from Grandfather. - -Among them he found the features of more than one famous personage who -had been connected with the adventures of our old chair. Grandfather -bade him draw the table nearer to the fireside, and they looked over -the portraits together, while Clara and Charley likewise lent their -attention. As for little Alice, she sat in Grandfather’s lap, and seemed -to see the very men alive whose faces were there represented. - -Turning over the volume, Laurence came to the portrait of a stern, -grim-looking man in plain attire, of much more modern fashion than that -of the old Puritans. But the face might well have befitted one of those -iron-hearted men. Beneath the portrait was the name of Samuel Adams. - -“He was a man of great note in all the doings that brought about the -Revolution,” said Grandfather. “His character was such that it seemed as -if one of the ancient Puritans had been sent back to earth to animate -the people’s hearts with the same abhorrence of tyranny that had -distinguished the earliest settlers. He was as religious as they, as -stern and inflexible, and as deeply imbued with democratic principles. -He, better than any one else, may be taken as a representative of the -people of New England, and of the spirit with which they engaged in -the Revolutionary struggle. He was a poor man, and earned his bread by -a humble occupation, but with his tongue and pen he made the King of -England tremble on his throne. Remember him, my children, as one of the -strong men of our country.” - -“Here is one whose looks show a very different character,” observed -Laurence, turning to the portrait of John Hancock. “I should think, by -his splendid dress and courtly aspect, that he was one of the King’s -friends.” - -“There never was a greater contrast than between Samuel Adams and -John Hancock,” said Grandfather, “yet they were of the same side in -politics, and had an equal agency in the Revolution. Hancock was born to -the inheritance of the largest fortune in New England. His tastes and -habits were aristocratic. He loved gorgeous attire, a splendid mansion, -magnificent furniture, stately festivals, and all that was glittering -and pompous in external things. His manners were so polished that there -stood not a nobleman at the footstool of King George’s throne who was a -more skillful courtier than John Hancock might have been. Nevertheless, -he in his embroidered clothes and Samuel Adams in his threadbare coat -wrought together in the cause of liberty. Adams acted from pure and -rigid principle. Hancock, though he loved his country, yet thought quite -as much of his own popularity as he did of the people’s rights. It is -remarkable that these two men, so very different as I describe them, were -the only two exempted from pardon by the King’s proclamation.” - -On the next leaf of the book was the portrait of General Joseph Warren. -Charley recognized the name, and said that here was a greater man than -either Hancock or Adams. - -“Warren was an eloquent and able patriot,” replied Grandfather. “He -deserves a lasting memory for his zealous efforts in behalf of liberty. -No man’s voice was more powerful in Faneuil Hall than Joseph Warren’s. -If his death had not happened so early in the contest, he would probably -have gained a high name as a soldier.” - -The next portrait was a venerable man who held his thumb under his -chin, and through his spectacles appeared to be attentively reading a -manuscript. - -“Here we see the most illustrious Boston boy that ever lived,” said -Grandfather. “This is Benjamin Franklin. But I will not try to compress -into a few sentences the character of the sage who, as a Frenchman -expressed it, snatched the lightning from the sky and the scepter from a -tyrant. Mr. Sparks must help you to the knowledge of Franklin.” - -The book likewise contained portraits of James Otis and Josiah Quincy. -Both of them, Grandfather observed, were men of wonderful talents and -true patriotism. Their voices were like the stirring tones of a trumpet -arousing the country to defend its freedom. Heaven seemed to have -provided a greater number of eloquent men than had appeared at any other -period, in order that the people might be fully instructed as to their -wrongs and the method of resistance. - -“It is marvelous,” said Grandfather, “to see how many powerful writers, -orators, and soldiers started up just at the time when they were wanted. -There was a man for every kind of work. It is equally wonderful that men -of such different characters were all made to unite in the one object -of establishing the freedom and independence of America. There was an -overruling Providence above them.” - -“Here was another great man,” remarked Laurence, pointing to the portrait -of John Adams. - -“Yes; an earnest, warm-tempered, honest, and most able man,” said -Grandfather. “At the period of which we are now speaking he was a lawyer -in Boston. He was destined in after years to be ruler over the whole -American people, whom he contributed so much to form into a nation.” - -Grandfather here remarked that many a New Englander who had passed his -boyhood and youth in obscurity afterward attained to a fortune which he -never could have foreseen even in his most ambitious dreams. John Adams, -the second President of the United States and the equal of crowned kings, -was once a schoolmaster and country lawyer. Hancock, the first signer -of the Declaration of Independence, served his apprenticeship with a -merchant. Samuel Adams, afterward governor of Massachusetts, was a small -tradesman and a tax-gatherer. General Warren was a physician, General -Lincoln a farmer, and General Knox a bookbinder. General Nathaniel -Greene, the best soldier except Washington in the Revolutionary army, -was a Quaker and a blacksmith. All these became illustrious men, and can -never be forgotten in American history. - -“And any boy who is born in America may look forward to the same things,” -said our ambitious friend Charley. - -After these observations Grandfather drew the book of portraits toward -him, showed the children several British peers and members of Parliament -who had exerted themselves either for or against the rights of America. -There were the Earl of Bute, Mr. Grenville, and Lord North. These were -looked upon as deadly enemies to our country. - -Among the friends of America was Mr. Pitt, afterward Earl of Chatham, who -spent so much of his wondrous eloquence in endeavoring to warn England -of the consequences of her injustice. He fell down on the floor of the -House of Lords after uttering his almost dying words in defense of our -privileges as freemen. There was Edmund Burke, one of the wisest men and -greatest orators that ever the world produced. There was Colonel Barré, -who had been among our fathers, and knew that they had courage enough to -die for their rights. There was Charles James Fox, who never rested until -he had silenced our enemies in the House of Commons. - -“It is very remarkable to observe how many of the ablest orators in -the British Parliament were favorable to America,” said Grandfather. -“We ought to remember these great Englishmen with gratitude, for their -speeches encouraged our fathers almost as much as those of our own -orators in Faneuil Hall and under Liberty Tree. Opinions which might have -been received with doubt if expressed only by a native American were set -down as true beyond dispute when they came from the lips of Chatham, -Burke, Barré, or Fox.” - -“But, Grandfather,” asked Laurence, “were there no able and eloquent men -in this country who took the part of King George?” - -“There were many men of talent who said what they could in defense of -the King’s tyrannical proceedings,” replied Grandfather, “but they had -the worst side of the argument, and therefore seldom said anything worth -remembering. Moreover, their hearts were faint and feeble, for they -felt that the people scorned and detested them. They had no friends, no -defense, except in the bayonets of the British troops. A blight fell upon -all their faculties because they were contending against the rights of -their own native land.” - -“What were the names of some of them?” inquired Charley. - -“Governor Hutchinson, Chief-justice Oliver, Judge Auchmuty, the Reverend -Mather Byles, and several other clergymen were among the most noted -loyalists,” answered Grandfather. - -“I wish the people had tarred and feathered every man of them!” cried -Charley. - -“That wish is very wrong, Charley,” said Grandfather. “You must not think -that there was no integrity and honor except among those who stood up -for the freedom of America. For aught I know, there was quite as much of -these qualities on one side as on the other. Do you see nothing admirable -in a faithful adherence to an unpopular cause? Can you not respect -that principle of loyalty which made the royalists give up country, -friends, fortune, everything, rather than be false to their king? It was -a mistaken principle, but many of them cherished it honorably and were -martyrs to it.” - -“Oh, I was wrong,” said Charley, ingenuously. “And I would risk my -life rather than one of those good old royalists should be tarred and -feathered.” - -“The time is now come when we may judge fairly of them,” continued -Grandfather. “Be the good and true men among them honored, for they were -as much our countrymen as the patriots were. And, thank Heaven! our -country need not be ashamed of her sons—of most of them at least—whatever -side they took in the Revolutionary contest.” - -Among the portraits was one of King George III. Little Alice clapped her -hands and seemed pleased with the bluff good nature of his physiognomy. -But Laurence thought it strange that a man with such a face, indicating -hardly a common share of intellect, should have had influence enough on -human affairs to convulse the world with war. Grandfather observed that -this poor king had always appeared to him one of the most unfortunate -persons that ever lived. He was so honest and conscientious that if he -had been only a private man his life would probably have been blameless -and happy. But his was that worst of fortunes—to be placed in a station -far beyond his abilities. - -“And so,” said Grandfather, “his life, while he retained what intellect -Heaven had gifted him with, was one long mortification. At last he -grew crazed with care and trouble. For nearly twenty years the monarch -of England was confined as a madman. In his old age, too, God took away -his eyesight, so that his royal palace was nothing to him but a dark, -lonesome prison-house.” - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Discussion.= 1. Describe the family group around the fireside. 2. - What is the center of interest? 3. Contrast the pictures of Samuel - Adams and John Hancock. 4. What is said about General Joseph Warren? - 5. Would you have been able to recognize Hawthorne’s word picture - of Benjamin Franklin without the name? 6. How does Grandfather - explain the existence of these remarkable men just when they were - most needed? 7. Do you know of any other time in our history when - this seemed true? 8. Mention the humble origin of some of the - Revolutionary patriots. 9. What do you think about them as fitting - people to be founders of a great democracy? 10; What suggestion - was there in this for Charley? 11. Name four famous Englishmen who - took sides with the colonies. 12. What was their great service? 13. - What do you think of Grandfather’s answer to Charley’s outburst - against the loyalists? 14. Do you admire the quality Grandfather - shows of seeing both sides of a question? 15. What was Grandfather’s - comment on King George III? 16. Pronounce the following: abhorrence; - gorgeous; courtier; admirable; ingenuously. - - =Phrases= - - astral lamp, 370, 1 - animate the people’s hearts, 370, 20 - abhorrence of tyranny, 370, 20 - imbued with democratic principles, 370, 22 - equal agency, 371, 3 - gorgeous attire, 371, 6 - skillful courtier, 371, 10 - overruling Providence, 372, 12 - ambitious dreams, 372, 24 - tyrannical proceedings, 373, 29 - blight upon their faculties, 373, 34 - faithful adherence, 374, 10 - principle of loyalty, 374, 11 - bluff good nature of his physiognomy, 374, 26 - - -THE GRAY CHAMPION - -NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE - -There was once a time when New England groaned under the actual pressure -of heavier wrongs than those threatened ones which brought on the -Revolution. James II, the bigoted successor of Charles the Voluptuous, -had annulled the charters of all the colonies, and sent a harsh and -unprincipled soldier to take away our liberties and endanger our -religion. The administration of Sir Edmund Andros lacked scarcely a -single characteristic of tyranny: a Governor and Council, holding office -from the King, and wholly independent of the Country; laws made and -taxes levied without concurrence of the people, immediate or by their -representatives; the rights of private citizens violated, and the titles -of all landed property declared void; the voice of complaint stifled by -restrictions on the press; and, finally, disaffection overawed by the -first band of mercenary troops that ever marched on our free soil. For -two years our ancestors were kept in sullen submission by that filial -love which had invariably secured their allegiance to the mother country, -whether its head chanced to be a Parliament, Protector, or Monarch. Till -these evil times, however, such allegiance had been merely nominal, and -the colonists had ruled themselves, enjoying far more freedom than even -yet the privilege of the native subjects of Great Britain. - -At length a rumor reached our shores that the Prince of Orange had -ventured on an enterprise the success of which would be the triumph of -civil and religious rights and the salvation of New England. It was but -a doubtful whisper; it might be false, or the attempt might fail; and, -in either case, the man that stirred against King James would lose his -head. Still, the intelligence produced a marked effect. The people smiled -mysteriously in the streets, and threw bold glances at their oppressors; -while, far and wide, there was a subdued and silent agitation, as if -the slightest signal would rouse the whole land from its sluggish -despondency. Aware of their danger, the rulers resolved to avert it by an -imposing display of strength, and perhaps to confirm their despotism by -yet harsher measures. One afternoon in April, 1689, Sir Edmund Andros and -his favorite councilors, being warm with wine, assembled the red-coats of -the Governors’ Guard, and made their appearance in the streets of Boston. -The sun was near setting when the march commenced. - -The roll of the drum, at that unquiet crisis, seemed to go through the -streets, less as the martial music of the soldiers, than as a muster-call -to the inhabitants themselves. A multitude, by various avenues, assembled -in King Street, which was destined to be the scene, nearly a century -afterwards, of another encounter between the troops of Britain and a -people struggling against her tyranny. Though more than sixty years had -elapsed since the Pilgrims came, this crowd of their descendants still -showed the strong and somber features of their character, perhaps more -strikingly in such a stern emergency than on happier occasions. There was -the sober garb, the general severity of mien, the gloomy but undismayed -expression, the Scriptural forms of speech, and the confidence in -Heaven’s blessing on a righteous cause, which would have marked a band of -the original Puritans, when threatened by some peril of the wilderness. -Indeed, it was not yet time for the old spirit to be extinct; since there -were men in the street, that day, who had worshiped there beneath the -trees, before a house was reared to the God for whom they had become -exiles. Old soldiers of the Parliament were here, too, smiling grimly -at the thought that their aged arms might strike another blow against -the house of Stuart. Here, also, were the veterans of King Philip’s -war, who had burned villages and slaughtered young and old, with pious -fierceness, while the godly souls throughout the land were helping them -with prayer. Several ministers were scattered among the crowd, which, -unlike all other mobs, regarded them with such reverence as if there were -sanctity in their very garments. These holy men exerted their influence -to quiet the people, but not to disperse them. Meantime, the purpose of -the Governor, in disturbing the peace of the town, at a period when the -slightest commotion might throw the country into a ferment, was almost -the universal subject of inquiry, and variously explained. - -“Satan will strike his master-stroke presently,” cried some, “because he -knoweth that his time is short. All our godly pastors are to be dragged -to prison! We shall see them at a Smithfield fire in King Street!” - -Hereupon the people of each parish gathered closer round their minister, -who looked calmly upwards and assumed a more apostolic dignity, as well -befitted a candidate for the highest honor of his profession, the crown -of martyrdom. It was actually fancied, at that period, that New England -might have a John Rogers of her own, to take the place of that worthy in -the Primer. - -“We are to be massacred, both man and male child!” cried others. - -Neither was this rumor wholly discredited, although the wiser class -believed the Governor’s object somewhat less atrocious. His predecessor -under the old charter, Bradstreet, a venerable companion of the first -settlers, was known to be in town. There were grounds for conjecturing -that Sir Edmund Andros intended, at once, to strike terror, by a parade -of military force, and to confound the opposite faction by possessing -himself of their chief. - -“Stand firm for the old charter, Governor!” shouted the crowd, seizing -upon the idea. “The good old Governor Bradstreet!” - -While this cry was at the loudest, the people were surprised by the -well-known figure of Governor Bradstreet himself, a patriarch of -nearly ninety, who appeared on the elevated steps of a door, and, with -characteristic mildness, besought them to submit to the constituted -authorities. - -“My children,” concluded this venerable person, “do nothing rashly. Cry -not aloud, but pray for the welfare of New England, and expect patiently -what the Lord will do in this matter!” - -The event was soon to be decided. All this time the roll of the drum -had been approaching through Cornhill, louder and deeper, till with -reverberations from house to house, and the regular tramp of martial -footsteps, it burst into the street. A double rank of soldiers made their -appearance, occupying the whole breadth of the passage, with shouldered -matchlocks, and matches burning, so as to present a row of fires in the -dusk. Their steady march was like the progress of a machine, that would -roll irresistibly over everything in its way. Next, moving slowly, with -a confused clatter of hoofs on the pavement, rode a party of mounted -gentlemen, the central figure being Sir Edmund Andros, elderly, but erect -and soldier-like. Those around him were his favorite councilors, and the -bitterest foes of New England. At his right hand rode Edward Randolph, -our arch-enemy, that “blasted wretch,” as Cotton Mather calls him, who -achieved the downfall of our ancient government, and was followed with -a sensible curse, through life and to his grave. On the other side was -Bullivant, scattering jests and mockery as he rode along. Dudley came -behind, with a downcast look, dreading, as well he might, to meet the -indignant gaze of the people, who beheld him, their only countryman by -birth, among the oppressors of his native land. The captain of a frigate -in the harbor, and two or three civil officers under the Crown, were also -there. But the figure which most attracted the public eye, and stirred -up the deepest feeling, was the Episcopal clergyman of King’s Chapel, -riding haughtily among the magistrates in his priestly vestments, the -fitting representative of prelacy and persecution, the union of Church -and State, and all those abominations which had driven the Puritans to -the wilderness. Another guard of soldiers, in double rank, brought up the -rear. - -The whole scene was a picture of the condition of New England, and -its moral, the deformity of any government that does not grow out of -the nature of things and the character of the people. On one side the -religious multitude, with their sad visages and dark attire, and on the -other, the group of despotic rulers, with the High-Churchman in the -midst, and here and there a crucifix at their bosoms, all magnificently -clad, flushed with wine, proud of unjust authority, and scoffing at the -universal groan. And the mercenary soldiers, waiting but the word to -deluge the street with blood, showed the only means by which obedience -could be secured. - -“O Lord of Hosts,” cried a voice among the crowd, “provide a Champion for -thy people!” - -This ejaculation was loudly uttered, and served as a herald’s cry, to -introduce a remarkable personage. The crowd had rolled back, and were -now huddled together nearly at the extremity of the street, while the -soldiers had advanced no more than a third of its length. The intervening -space was empty—a paved solitude, between lofty edifices, which threw -almost a twilight shadow over it. Suddenly, there was seen the figure of -an ancient man, who seemed to have emerged from among the people, and was -walking by himself along the center of the street, to confront the armed -band. He wore the old Puritan dress, a dark cloak and a steeple-crowned -hat, in the fashion of at least fifty years before, with a heavy sword -upon his thigh, but a staff in his hand to assist the tremulous gait of -age. - -When at some distance from the multitude, the old man turned slowly -round, displaying a face of antique majesty, rendered doubly venerable by -the hoary beard that descended on his breast. He made a gesture at once -of encouragement and warning, then turned again, and resumed his way. - -“Who is this gray patriarch?” asked the young men of their sires. - -“Who is this venerable brother?” asked the old men among themselves. - -But none could make reply. The fathers of the people, those of fourscore -years and upwards, were disturbed, deeming it strange that they should -forget one of such evident authority, whom they must have known in their -early days, the associate of Winthrop, and all the old councilors, -giving laws, and making prayers, and leading them against the savage. -The elderly men ought to have remembered him, too, with locks as gray -in their youth as their own were now. And the young! How could he have -passed so utterly from their memories—that hoary sire, the relic of -long-departed times, whose awful benediction had surely been bestowed on -their uncovered heads, in childhood? - -“Whence did he come? What is his purpose? Who can this old man be?” -whispered the wondering crowd. - -Meanwhile, the venerable stranger, staff in hand, was pursuing his -solitary walk along the center of the street. As he drew near the -advancing soldiers, and as the roll of their drum came full upon his -ear, the old man raised himself to a loftier mien, while the decrepitude -of age seemed to fall from his shoulders, leaving him in gray but -unbroken dignity. Now, he marched onward with a warrior’s step, keeping -time to the military music. Thus the aged form advanced on one side, and -the whole parade of soldiers and magistrates on the other, till, when -scarcely twenty yards remained between, the old man grasped his staff by -the middle, and held it before him like a leader’s truncheon. - -“Stand!” cried he. - -The eye, the face, and attitude of command, the solemn, yet warlike -peal of that voice, fit either to rule a host in the battlefield or -be raised to God in prayer, were irresistible. At the old man’s word -and outstretched arm, the roll of the drum was hushed at once, and -the advancing line stood still. A tremulous enthusiasm seized upon -the multitude. That stately form, combining the leader and the saint, -so gray, so dimly seen, in such an ancient garb, could only belong to -some old champion of the righteous cause, whom the oppressor’s drum had -summoned from his grave. They raised a shout of awe and exultation, and -looked for the deliverance of New England. - -The Governor, and the gentlemen of his party, perceiving themselves -brought to an unexpected stand, rode hastily forward, as if they would -have pressed their snorting and affrighted horses right against the hoary -apparition. He, however, blenched not a step, but glancing his severe eye -round the group, which half encompassed him, at last bent it sternly on -Sir Edmund Andros. One would have thought that the dark old man was chief -ruler there, and that the Governor and Council, with soldiers at their -back, representing the whole power and authority of the Crown, had no -alternative but obedience. - -“What does this old fellow here?” cried Edward Randolph, fiercely. “On, -Sir Edmund! Bid the soldiers forward, and give the dotard the same choice -that you give all his countrymen—to stand aside or be trampled on!” - -“Nay, nay, let us show respect to the good grandsire,” said Bullivant, -laughing. “See you not, he is some old roundheaded dignitary, who hath -lain asleep these thirty years, and knows nothing of the change of -times? Doubtless, he thinks to put us down with a proclamation in Old -Noll’s name!” - -“Are you mad, old man?” demanded Sir Edmund Andros, in loud and harsh -tones. “How dare you stay the march of King James’s Governor?” - -“I have stayed the march of a king himself, ere now,” replied the gray -figure, with stern composure. “I am here, Sir Governor, because the -cry of an oppressed people hath disturbed me in my secret place; and -beseeching this favor earnestly of the Lord, it was vouchsafed me to -appear once again on earth, in the good old cause of his saints. And what -speak ye of James? There is no longer a tyrant on the throne of England, -and by tomorrow noon his name shall be a byword in this very street, -where ye would make it a word of terror. Back, thou that wast a Governor, -back! With this night thy power is ended—tomorrow, the prison!—back, lest -I foretell the scaffold!” - -The people had been drawing nearer and nearer, and drinking in the -words of their champion, who spoke in accents long disused, like one -unaccustomed to converse, except with the dead of many years ago. But -his voice stirred their souls. They confronted the soldiers, not wholly -without arms, and ready to convert the very stones of the street into -deadly weapons. Sir Edmund Andros looked at the old man; then he cast -his hard and cruel eye over the multitude, and beheld them burning with -that lurid wrath, so difficult to kindle or to quench; and again he fixed -his gaze on the aged form, which stood obscurely in an open space, where -neither friend nor foe had thrust himself. What were his thoughts, he -uttered no word which might discover. But whether the oppressor were -overawed by the Gray Champion’s look, or perceived his peril in the -threatening attitude of the people, it is certain that he gave back, -and ordered his soldiers to commence a slow and guarded retreat. Before -another sunset, the Governor, and all that rode so proudly with him, -were prisoners, and long ere it was known that James had abdicated, King -William was proclaimed throughout New England. - -But where was the Gray Champion? Some reported, that when the troops had -gone from King Street, and the people were thronging tumultuously in -their rear, Bradstreet, the aged Governor, was seen to embrace a form -more aged than his own. Others soberly affirmed, that while they marveled -at the venerable grandeur of his aspect, the old man had faded from their -eyes, melting slowly into the hues of twilight, till, where he stood, -there was an empty space. But all agreed that the hoary shape was gone. -The men of that generation watched for his reappearance, in sunshine and -in twilight, but never saw him more, nor knew when his funeral passed, -nor where his gravestone was. - -And who was the Gray Champion? Perhaps his name might be found in the -records of that stern Court of Justice which passed a sentence, too -mighty for the age, but glorious in all after times, for its humbling -lesson to the monarch and its high example to the subject. I have heard, -that whenever the descendants of the Puritans are to show the spirit of -their sires, the old man appears again. When eighty years had passed, he -walked once more in King Street. Five years later, in the twilight of -an April morning, he stood on the green, beside the meeting-house, at -Lexington, where now the obelisk of granite, with a slab of slate inlaid, -commemorates the first fallen of the Revolution. And when our fathers -were toiling at the breastwork on Bunker’s Hill, all through that night -the old warrior walked his rounds. Long, long may it be, ere he comes -again! His hour is one of darkness, and adversity, and peril. But should -domestic tyranny oppress us, or the invader’s step pollute our soil, -still may the Gray Champion come, for he is the type of New England’s -hereditary spirit, and his shadowy march, on the eve of danger, must ever -be the pledge that New England’s sons will vindicate their ancestry. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Historical Note.= A tradition handed down from the time of King - Philip’s war gave Hawthorne the suggestion for this story. In the - attack made upon the village of Hadley, Massachusetts, by the - Indians in 1675 a venerable man, of stately form, and with flowing - white beard, suddenly appeared among the panic-stricken villagers, - took command, and helped them put the savages to flight. Then he - disappeared as suddenly as he had come. In their wonder, not knowing - where he had come from or where he had gone, many believed he had - been sent from Heaven to deliver them. - - Their defender was William Goffe, who had been an officer in - Cromwell’s army, and a member of the court which condemned Charles - I to death. (Read the reference to this court in the story.) He was - a Puritan, a man of deep religious feeling, whose acts had been - governed by the desire to secure his countrymen their liberties. - When Charles II succeeded to the English throne, Goffe fled to New - England to escape his vengeance. Officers were sent across the ocean - in pursuit of him. For this reason he lived in hiding, his name and - identity being known only to friends who aided and protected him. - He had many narrow escapes, but was never captured. From his hiding - place he had seen the Indians stealing upon the people of Hadley and - had gone forth to battle against them. After living in exile for the - rest of his life, he died about 1679. - - In this story Hawthorne altered facts to suit his purpose, making the - Gray Champion appear at the time of the Boston Insurrection, in 1689. - In this year James II, who had succeeded his brother, Charles II, was - dethroned, and fled from his kingdom, and his son-in-law, William - III, Prince of Orange, was made King of England. - - The Gray Champion is made to typify the Spirit of Liberty—that spirit - which animated Goffe as a Puritan soldier under Cromwell and which - sent the Pilgrims and Puritans forth to find a home in the New World. - - =Discussion.= 1. Read that part of the story which pictures the - conditions of New England under Andros. 2. What were the wrongs under - which the people suffered? 3. Did they submit willingly? 4. What - rumor gave them hope of a return of “civil and religious rights”? - 5. How did this rumor affect the Governor and his councilors? 6. - Why was the Guard assembled? 7. What effect upon the people had its - appearance at this time? 8. What does Hawthorne call this scene in - the street? 9. What does he say is its “moral”? 10. Who came to have - the advantage, the Governor and his soldiers, or the people? 11. Read - all that accounts for the Champion and his sudden appearance. 12. - What great cause did he come to champion? 13. What cause were Andros - and his soldiers supporting? 14. Who was victorious? 15. Tell briefly - the main incident. 16. Give your opinion as to Hawthorne’s purpose in - writing this story. - - =Phrases= - - mercenary troops, 376, 14 - filial love, 376, 16 - allegiance merely nominal, 376, 19 - civil and religious rights, 376, 24 - sluggish despondency, 376, 31 - severity of mien, 377, 17 - apostolic dignity, 378, 6 - confound the opposite faction, 378, 20 - prelacy and persecution, 379, 20 - leader’s truncheon, 381, 8 - hoary apparition, 381, 24 - half encompassed, 381, 25 - roundheaded dignitary, 381, 36 - lurid wrath, 382, 25 - obelisk of granite, 383, 19 - vindicate their ancestry, 383, 28 - - -WARREN’S ADDRESS AT THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL - -JOHN PIERPONT - - Stand! 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! - 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, O 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? - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= John Pierpont (1785-1866) was a Unitarian clergyman of - Connecticut and the author of several volumes of poetry. - - =Historical Note.= General Joseph Warren was one of the generals in - command of the patriot army at the Battle of Bunker Hill. His death - in this battle, while a great loss to the American forces, inspired - the army to heroic efforts. He is considered one of the bravest and - most unselfish patriots of the Revolutionary War. Read what your - history text says about him. - - =Discussion.= 1. In this poem we have the poet’s idea of how General - Warren inspired his men. 2. What do you think he did in reality? - 3. Read the lines that are an answer to those who still hoped for - mercy from the British. 4. What lines show the striking contrast - between those who fight for hire and those who fight to protect their - homes? 5. Which of the appeals in the first and second stanzas seems - most forceful to you? 6. Where have you read of a hero who made an - argument similar to the one made in the third stanza? 7. How does - the Bunker Hill Monument fulfill the prophecy in the last lines of - the poem? 8. Notice the interesting rime-scheme and point out how it - increases the effectiveness of the poem. - - =Phrases= - - greener graves, 385, 3 - mercy despots feel, 385, 5 - battle peal, 385, 6 - bristling steel, 385, 7 - leaden rain, 385, 15 - iron hail, 385, 15 - - -LIBERTY OR DEATH - -PATRICK HENRY - -Mr. President,—No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as -well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed -the House. But different men often see the same subject in different -lights; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to -those gentlemen, if, entertaining, as I do, opinions of a character very -opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my sentiments freely and without -reserve. This is no time for ceremony. The question before the House is -one of awful moment to this country. For my own part, I consider it as -nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery; and in proportion to -the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It -is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfill the -great responsibility which we hold to God and our country. Should I keep -back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offense, I should -consider myself as guilty of treason toward my country, and of an act of -disloyalty toward the Majesty of Heaven, which I revere above all earthly -kings. - -Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. -We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the -song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part -of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are -we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and -having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal -salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am -willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it. - -I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided; and that is the lamp -of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the -past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in -the conduct of the British Ministry for the last ten years to justify -those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves -and the House? Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has -been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your -feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves -how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike -preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and -armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown -ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that force must be called in -to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the -implements of war and subjugation—the last arguments to which kings -resort. I ask, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be -not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible -motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world, -to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she -has none. They are meant for us; they can be meant for no other. They -are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British -Ministry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them? -Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten -years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have -held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has -been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? -What terms shall we find, which have not been already exhausted? Let us -not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have done -everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming -on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; -we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored -its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the Ministry and -Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have -produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been -disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of -the throne! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope -of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If -we wish to be free—if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable -privileges for which we have been so long contending—if we mean not -basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long -engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon, until the -glorious object of our contest shall be attained—we must fight! I repeat -it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of Hosts is all -that is left us! - -They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable -an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, -or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a -British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength -by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual -resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive -phantom of hope until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? - -Sir, we are not weak, if we make a proper use of those means which the -God of nature hath placed in our power. Three millions of people, armed -in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we -possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. -Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God -who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends -to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; -it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have -no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late -to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and -slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains -of Boston! The war is inevitable—and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let -it come! - -It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, -peace!—but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale -that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding -arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What -is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or -peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? -Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as -for me, give me liberty or give me death! - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Historical Note.= Patrick Henry (1736-1799) delivered this speech at - the Virginia Convention, March 28, 1775. For some years this fiery - young orator had been active in Virginia in stirring up resistance to - the tyrannical acts of the King. In 1774 the royal governor in that - colony reported that every county was arming a company of men for - the purpose of protecting their committees, which had been formed, - as in the other colonies, to work out a plan of coöperation against - the British government. In March, 1775, the second revolutionary - convention of Virginia met at Richmond. A resolution was offered to - put the colony into a state of defense. Some delegates objected to - such radical action, and it is to these men that Henry addressed the - opening sentences of his speech. - - The resolution was adopted. The chief command of the Virginia forces - was offered to Colonel Washington, who accepted with the words, “It - is my full intention to devote my life and fortune to the cause in - which we are engaged.” - - =Discussion.= 1. From reading the first paragraph, what idea do you - get of Patrick Henry as an opponent? 2. Do you think Patrick Henry - expresses a truth for all time when he says, “In proportion to the - magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate”? 3. - Find, in your history, the chief acts of the British Ministry for - the ten years prior to 1775. 4. What are the arguments which Patrick - Henry uses to convince the delegates of the need of immediate action? - 5. What did the next gale sweeping from the north bring to their - ears? 6. Notice Patrick Henry’s use of figurative language throughout - this speech. 7. Pronounce the following: siren; illusion; arduous; - solace; insidious; inestimable; formidable. - - =Phrases= - - of awful moment, 386, 8 - illusions of hope, 387, 10 - arduous struggle, 387, 13 - temporal salvation, 387, 16 - anguish of spirit, 387, 17 - insidious smile, 387, 24 - implements of war, 387, 33 - martial array, 387, 34 - preserve inviolate, 388, 22 - inestimable privileges, 388, 22 - cope with so formidable, 388, 29 - supinely on our backs, 388, 35 - delusive phantom, 388, 35 - extenuate the matter, 389, 14 - - -GEORGE WASHINGTON TO HIS WIFE - - Philadelphia, 18 June, 1775 - -My Dearest: - -I am now set down to write to you on a subject which fills me with -inexpressible concern, and this concern is greatly aggravated and -increased when I reflect upon the uneasiness I know it will give you. -It has been determined in Congress that the whole army raised for the -defense of the American cause shall be put under my care, and that it is -necessary for me to proceed immediately to Boston to take upon me the -command of it. - -You may believe me, my dear Patsy, when I assure you, in the most solemn -manner, that, so far from seeking this appointment, I have used every -endeavor in my power to avoid it, not only from my unwillingness to part -with you and the family, but from a consciousness of its being a trust -too great for my capacity, and that I should enjoy more real happiness -in one month with you at home, than I have the most distant prospect of -finding abroad, if my stay were to be seven times seven years. But as it -has been a kind of destiny that has thrown me upon this service, I shall -hope that my undertaking it is designed to answer some good purpose. You -might, and I suppose did perceive, from the tenor of my letters, that I -was apprehensive I could not avoid this appointment, as I did not pretend -to intimate when I should return. That was the case. It was utterly out -of my power to refuse this appointment, without exposing my character to -such censures as would have reflected dishonor upon myself and given pain -to my friends. This, I am sure, could not, and ought not, to be pleasing -to you, and must have lessened me considerably in my own esteem. I shall -rely, therefore, confidently on that Providence which has heretofore -preserved and been bountiful to me, not doubting but that I shall return -safe to you in the fall. I shall feel no pain from the toil or the danger -of the campaign; my unhappiness will flow from the uneasiness I know you -will feel from being left alone. I therefore beg that you will summon -your whole fortitude and pass your time as agreeably as possible. Nothing -will give me so much sincere satisfaction as to hear this, and to hear it -from your own pen. My earnest and ardent desire is that you would pursue -any plan that is most likely to produce content and a tolerable degree of -tranquillity; as it must add greatly to my uneasy feelings to hear that -you are dissatisfied or complaining at what I really could not avoid. - -As life is always uncertain and common prudence dictates to every man the -necessity of settling his temporal concerns while it is in his power, -and while the mind is calm and undisturbed, I have, since I came to this -place (for I had not time to do it before I left home), got Colonel -Pendleton to draft a will for me, by the directions I gave him, which -will I now enclose. The provision made for you in case of my death will, -I hope, be agreeable. - -I shall add nothing more, as I have several letters to write, but to -desire that you will remember me to your friends, and to assure you that -I am with the most unfeigned regard, my dear Patsy, your affectionate, -&c. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Historical Note.= George Washington (1732-1799) came from Virginia - to attend the second meeting of the Continental Congress held in - Philadelphia May 10, 1775. He was at that time commander of the - militia of Virginia and sat in Congress in his colonel’s uniform. In - the name of “The United Colonies” the Congress voted to authorize the - enlistment of troops, to build and garrison forts, and to issue notes - to the amount of three million dollars, the original “Liberty Loan” - in America. There was an army of about ten thousand men encamped - around Boston and these Congress adopted as “The Continental Army.” - John Adams rose in his place and proposed the name of the Virginian, - George Washington, to be commander-in-chief of this New England army. - “The gentleman,” he said, “is among us and is very well known to us - all; a gentleman whose skill and experience as an officer, whose - independent fortune, great talents, and excellent universal character - would command the approbation of all America, and unite the cordial - exertions of all the colonies better than any other person in the - Union.” The pay of the commander-in-chief was fixed at five hundred - dollars a month and on June 15 Washington received the unanimous - vote for this all-important office. His lofty stature, exceeding six - feet, his grave and handsome face, his noble bearing and courtly - grace of manner all proclaimed him worthy of the honor. In a brief - speech expressive of his high sense of the honor conferred upon him, - he said, “I beg it may be remembered by every gentleman in this room, - that I this day declare, with the utmost sincerity, that I do not - think myself equal to the command I am honored with. As to pay, I - beg leave to assure the Congress that, as no pecuniary consideration - could have tempted me to accept this arduous employment, at the - expense of my domestic ease and happiness, I do not wish to make any - profit of it. I will keep an exact account of my expenses. Those, I - doubt not, they will discharge; and that is all I desire.” - - As there was no time for a visit to his home, Mt. Vernon, on the - Potomac River, Washington was obliged to give his wife this important - information by letter. (In 1759 Washington had married Mrs. Martha - Custis, the widow of one of the wealthiest planters in the Virginia - Colony. She had two beautiful children at the time of her marriage, - but when Washington went north to Philadelphia Mrs. Washington was - quite alone, for her son was away from home and her daughter had died - a few years before.) Later in the year Mrs. Washington went north - and spent the winter with her husband at Craigie house, the army - headquarters in Cambridge. - - =Discussion.= 1. Name the fine qualities of Washington shown in this - letter. 2. Read the sentence that tells briefly what has happened. 3. - What do you imagine was Mrs. Washington’s reply to this letter? - - =Phrases= - - inexpressible concern, 390, 2 - consciousness of a trust, 390, 13 - too great for my capacity, 390, 13 - distant prospect, 390, 15 - perceive, from the tenor, 391, 4 - exposing my character to censures, 391, 8 - summon your fortitude, 391, 17 - ardent desire, 391, 20 - tolerable degree of tranquillity, 391, 22 - prudence dictates, 391, 25 - temporal concerns, 391, 26 - unfeigned regard, 391, 34 - - -GEORGE WASHINGTON TO GOVERNOR GEORGE CLINTON - - Valley Forge, 16 February, 1778 - -Dear Sir: - -It is with great reluctance I trouble you on a subject which does not -properly fall within your province; but it is a subject that occasions -me more distress than I have felt since the commencement of the war; and -which loudly demands the most zealous exertions of every person of weight -and authority, who is interested in the success of our affairs; I mean -the present dreadful situation of the army, for want of provision, and -the miserable prospects before us, with respect to futurity. It is more -alarming than you will probably conceive; for, to form a just idea of it, -it were necessary to be on the spot. For some days past, there has been -little less than a famine in camp. A part of the army has been a week -without any kind of flesh, and the rest three or four days. Naked and -starving as they are, we cannot enough admire the incomparable patience -and fidelity of the soldiery, that they have not been, ere this, excited -by their suffering to a general mutiny and dispersion. Strong symptoms, -however, of discontent have appeared in particular instances; and nothing -but the most active efforts, everywhere, can long avert so shocking a -catastrophe. - -Our present sufferings are not all. There is no foundation laid for any -adequate relief hereafter. All the magazines provided in the States -of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Maryland, and all the -immediate additional supplies they seem capable of affording, will not be -sufficient to support the army more than a month longer, if so long. Very -little has been done at the eastward, and as little to the southward; and -whatever we have a right to expect from those quarters must necessarily -be very remote, and is, indeed, more precarious than could be wished. -When the before-mentioned supplies are exhausted, what a terrible crisis -must ensue, unless all the energy of the Continent shall be exerted to -provide a timely remedy! - -I am etc. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Historical Note.= This letter was addressed to George Clinton, - governor of New York from 1777-1795. Washington appealed to Clinton - because of the abilities and resources of New York and also because - the governor’s zeal as a patriot was well known. At the same time - Washington addressed a similar letter to the inhabitants of New - Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, and Virginia, urging the - farmers to provide cattle for the use of the army. He assures them of - a bountiful price as well as the knowledge that they have rendered - most essential service to the illustrious cause of their country. - - =Discussion.= 1. Read in your history text what is said about the - winter of 1777-1778 at Valley Forge. 2. How do the methods of - conserving food for the army in Washington’s time compare with those - of our own time? 3. How does Washington hope to avert a terrible - crisis? 4. Pronounce the following: incomparable; catastrophe; - adequate; precarious. - - =Phrases= - - fall within your province, 393, 2 - zealous exertions, 393, 5 - with respect to futurity, 393, 8 - incomparable patience, 393, 14 - excited to mutiny and dispersion, 393, 15 - symptoms of discontent, 393, 16 - avert so shocking a catastrophe, 393, 18 - adequate relief hereafter, 393, 21 - the magazines provided, 393, 21 - crisis must ensue, 394, 7 - - -SONG OF MARION’S MEN - -WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT - - Our band is few, but true and tried, - Our leader frank and bold; - The British soldier trembles - When Marion’s name is told. - Our fortress is the good greenwood, - Our tent the cypress-tree; - We know the forest round us, - As seamen know the sea. - We know its walls of thorny vines, - Its glades of reedy grass, - Its safe and silent islands - Within the dark morass. - - Woe to the English soldiery - That little dread us near! - On them shall light at midnight - A strange and sudden fear; - When waking to their tents on fire - They grasp their arms in vain, - And they who stand to face us - Are beat to earth again; - And they who fly in terror deem - A mighty host behind, - And hear the tramp of thousands - Upon the hollow wind. - - Then sweet the hour that brings release - From danger and from toil; - We talk the battle over, - And share the battle’s spoil. - The woodland rings with laugh and shout, - As if a hunt were up, - And woodland flowers are gathered - To crown the soldier’s cup. - With merry songs we mock the wind - That in the pine-top grieves, - And slumber long and sweetly, - On beds of oaken leaves. - - Well knows the fair and friendly moon - The band that Marion leads— - The glitter of their rifles, - The scampering of their steeds. - ’Tis life our fiery barbs to guide - Across the moonlight plains; - ’Tis life to feel the night-wind - That lifts their tossing manes. - A moment in the British camp— - A moment—and away - Back to the pathless forest, - Before the peep of day. - - Grave men there are by broad Santee, - Grave men with hoary hairs, - Their hearts are all with Marion, - For Marion are their prayers. - And lovely ladies greet our band, - With kindliest welcoming, - With smiles like those of summer, - And tears like those of spring. - For them we wear these trusty arms, - And lay them down no more - Till we have driven the Briton, - Forever, from our shore. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 41. - - =Historical Note.= General Francis Marion was a general of the - Revolutionary period. He was a leader of a band of men who worried - the victorious British troops in the Carolinas in 1780 and 1781 - and assisted in driving Cornwallis north, where he surrendered at - Yorktown in 1781. Marion and his men in their greenwood fortress - remind us of Robin Hood and his merry men. - - =Discussion.= 1. Who is speaking in this poem? 2. What does the word - “band” tell you about these men? 3. How do seamen know their way - when on the ocean? 4. How do woodsmen know their way in the forest? - 5. Read the lines that picture a southern forest. 6. What does the - second stanza tell you of Marion’s method of attack? 7. Notice in the - third stanza how the men spend their leisure time. 8. When did these - hours of release occur? 9. Why is the moon called friendly? 10. Which - lines show their quickness of movement? 11. For whom are these men - fighting? - - =Phrases= - - true and tried, 395, 1 - our tent the cypress-tree, 395, 6 - walls of thorny vines, 395, 9 - glades of reedy grass, 395, 10 - dark morass, 395, 12 - hollow wind, 395, 24 - hour that brings release, 395, 25 - battle’s spoil, 395, 28 - as if a hunt were up, 396, 2 - fiery barbs, 396, 13 - broad Santee, 396, 21 - smiles like those of summer, 396, 27 - - -TIMES THAT TRY MEN’S SOULS - -THOMAS PAINE - -These are the times that try men’s souls. The summer soldier and the -sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his -country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man -and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this -consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the -triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; ’tis dearness -only that gives everything its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper -price upon its goods; it would be strange indeed, if so celestial an -article as freedom should not be highly rated. Britain, with an army -to enforce her tyranny, has declared that she has a right, not only to -tax, but to “bind us in all cases whatsoever,” and if being bound in -that manner is not slavery, then is there not such a thing as slavery -upon earth. Even the expression is impious, for so unlimited a power can -belong only to God. - -I have as little superstition in me as any man living, but my secret -opinion has been, and still is, that God Almighty will not give up a -people to military destruction, or leave them unsupportedly to perish, -who have so earnestly and so repeatedly sought to avoid the calamities of -war, by every decent method which wisdom could invent. - -I once felt all that kind of anger, which a man ought to feel, against -the mean principles that are held by the tories: a noted one, who kept -a tavern at Amboy, was standing at his door, with as pretty a child -in his hand, about eight or nine years old, as I ever saw, and after -speaking his mind as freely as he thought was prudent, finished with -this unfatherly expression, “Well! give me peace in my day.” Not a man -lives on the continent but fully believes that a separation must some -time or other finally take place, and a generous parent should have said, -“If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have -peace”; and his single reflection, well applied, is sufficient to awaken -every man to duty. Not a place upon earth might be so happy as America. -Her situation is remote from all the wrangling world, and she has nothing -to do but to trade with them. A man can distinguish in himself between -temper and principle, and I am as confident, as I am that God governs the -world, that America will never be happy till she gets clear of foreign -dominion. Wars, without ceasing, will break out till that period arrives, -and the continent must in the end be conqueror; for though the flame of -liberty may sometimes cease to shine, the coal can never expire. - -The heart that feels not now, is dead; the blood of his children will -curse his cowardice, who shrinks back at a time when a little might have -saved the whole, and made them happy. I love the man that can smile in -trouble, that can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by -reflection. ’Tis the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose -heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his -principles unto death. My own line of reasoning is to myself as straight -and clear as a ray of light. Not all the treasures of the world, so far -as I believe, could have induced me to support an offensive war, for I -think it murder; but if a thief breaks into my house, burns and destroys -my property, and kills or threatens to kill me, or those that are in -it, and to “bind me in all cases whatsoever” to his absolute will, am I -to suffer it? What signifies it to me, whether he who does it is a king -or a common man; my countryman or not my countryman; whether it be done -by an individual villain, or an army of them? If we reason to the root -of things we shall find no difference; neither can any just cause be -assigned why we should punish in the one case and pardon in the other. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Historical Note.= Thomas Paine (1737-1809), an interesting figure - of the Revolutionary period, did much by his writings to help win - the war. Franklin on one occasion said, “Where liberty is, there is - my home.” Whereupon Paine answered, “Where liberty is not, there - is my home.” He came to America from England in 1774 and fought - for America’s freedom as a volunteer under Washington. After the - Revolution he went to France, where again he fought for liberty in - the French Revolution. - - This selection is from a pamphlet called “The Crisis,” published in - 1776 by Paine. Washington had lost the battle of Long Island and - had been compelled to retreat from New York toward Philadelphia. In - Philadelphia there were many royalists who hoped that England would - win the war. Washington’s soldiers, who had enlisted for short terms, - were encouraged to desert or to resign at the end of their terms. The - situation was serious. - - Washington ordered that “The Crisis” be read before every company of - soldiers in his army. - - =Discussion.= 1. Select from these paragraphs sentences that would - make good mottoes. 2. What political and military situation did Paine - have in mind in the opening sentences? 3. What do you think of the - argument of the tavern-keeper at Amboy as compared with Paine’s? 4. - What do we think today of our “remoteness from the wrangling world”? - 5. What, in the last one hundred years, has brought Europe and - America closer together than they were in Paine’s day? 6. Under what - conditions does Paine think war is justified? - - =Phrases= - - summer soldier, 397, 1 - sunshine patriot, 397, 2 - celestial an article, 397, 9 - expression is impious, 398, 5 - unsupportedly to perish, 398, 9 - calamities of war, 398, 11 - single reflection, 398, 23 - foreign dominion, 398, 30 - pursue his principles, 399, 3 - offensive war, 399, 6 - - - - -PART IV - -LITERATURE AND LIFE IN THE HOMELAND - - _“One flag, one land, one heart, one hand,_ - _One Nation evermore!”_ - - —Oliver Wendell Holmes. - -[Illustration: Copyright by M. G. Abbey (from a Copley Print, copyright -by Curtis & Cameron, Boston) - -PENN’S TREATY WITH THE INDIANS] - - - - -LITERATURE AND LIFE IN THE HOMELAND - -INTRODUCTION - -It is a hard thing to picture to ourselves our Homeland. Is America just -a lot of cities and towns and farms, or a collection of so many thousands -of square miles of prairies and mountains, the sort of thing one would -see from an airplane if one could get up high enough and had good enough -eyes? Or is it a collection of states with queer boundary lines that look -plainer on a map than they do when we cross them in the train? There are -people who try to find America in some motto or symbol. One of our great -cities has for its motto the words “I will,” and the people who live in -that city like to think that the enterprise by which they build great -industries and give work to great numbers of people is the expression of -their Americanism. And some people see in the Statue of Liberty in the -New York harbor, a statue holding aloft a blazing torch to give light to -all people, the symbol that best expresses the spirit of America. - -Both the motto and the statue help us to see our country as something -more than a part of a book called “Geography” or “History.” Both of them -express what America had always been to its citizens and what it became -to the world in 1917. We did not desire to enter the war, but when it -became necessary to do so no true American hesitated. There were great -difficulties: an army to raise and equip and train so that it could meet -an army that had been preparing for forty years to fight the world; an -army to be transported over three thousand miles of water, a terrific -task even in normal times, but made a hundred-fold harder because of the -monsters that lurked under the sea waiting a chance to send a transport -to the bottom. And once across, there were docks and railroads to be -built and a great industrial organization to be set going. But the will -of America was triumphant and the job was done. And the statue, like the -“I will,” is a symbol of the spirit in America that has helped the spirit -of liberty throughout the world, so that we now know the day is coming -when all peoples, everywhere, shall be free. We can make a beginning, -therefore, in our effort to form a picture of what America means, by -thinking of this Statue of Liberty and of these words of high purpose, “I -will.” - -But we must fill in the picture. No statue will do, for it, after all, -is lifeless. No motto will do, for it is only a phrase, an inscription. -A photograph on which you have written a date or the record of a happy -meeting with your friend, is very interesting indeed, and helps you to -call to mind your friend. But in reality the photograph merely suggests -to you your friend and your happy times together. Your friend has many -moods, now sad, now gay. Your friend looks different at different times. -The history of your friendship has many events in it, and all these -go together, a thousand details, to make up your own idea “this is my -friend.” So it is with America. History and legend, the knowledge of past -events, must acquaint us with our country as with our friend. Infinite -variety of mood she has, now stern and grave like her mountains, now -placid like her vast expanse of prairie or her waving fields of grain; -now laughing like the waters in the sunlight, or beautiful in anger -as mighty storms sweep hill and plain. And infinite, again, are her -activities—great factories and mills, lofty office buildings filled with -workers, trains speeding like mighty shuttles through vast distances, -farms filled with growing food for a world. All these you must bring into -your picture, and more, for infinite, also, are the ideals and hopes that -go to make up this many-sided personality that we name Our Country. - -The selections that follow will help you to make this picture that is -to be more to us than a statue or a photograph. Some of them are little -views, snapshots of our nation’s childhood. Others are pictures of -various moods or appearances of the later America. Some show the spirit -of laughter in America; others give some of the songs of America; and at -the end are a few pictures of America at work. All will help, but they -are only an imperfect and brief introduction to a subject that is going -to interest you all through your life: What is America to me, and what -can I do to make her happy? - - - - -EARLY AMERICA - -[Illustration] - - -THE CHARACTER OF COLUMBUS - -ARCHBISHOP CORRIGAN - -To us it is given to behold in its full splendor what Columbus, like -another Moses on the borders of the Land of Promise, could only discern -in dim and distant outlines. And, therefore, with Italy, the land of his -birth; with Spain, the land of his adoption; with the other nations of -the globe who are debtors to his daring, we gladly swell the universal -chorus in his honor of praise and of thanksgiving. - -In 1792 the ocean separated us by a journey of seventy days from Europe; -our self-government was looked upon as a problem still to be solved; -at home, facilities of travel and of intercommunication were yet to be -provided. More than this, the unworthy innuendoes, the base as well as -baseless charges that sought to tarnish the fair fame of Columbus, had -not been removed by patient historical research and critical acumen. -Fortunately, these clouds that gathered around the exploits of the great -discoverer have been almost entirely dispelled, thanks especially to the -initiative of a son of our Empire State, the immortal Washington Irving. - -I beg to present Columbus as a man of science and a man of faith. -As a scientist, considering the time in which he lived, he eminently -deserves our respect. Both in theory and in practice he was one of the -best geographers and cosmographers of the age. According to reliable -historians, before he set out to discover new seas, he had navigated -the whole extent of those already known. Moreover, he had studied so -many authors and to such advantage that Alexander von Humboldt affirmed: -“When we consider his life we must feel astonishment at the extent of his -literary acquaintance.” - -Columbus took nothing for granted. While he bowed reverently to -the teachings of his faith, he brushed away as cobwebs certain -interpretations of Scripture more fanciful than real, and calmly -maintained that the Word of God cannot be in conflict with scientific -truth. The project of bearing Christ over the waters sank deeply into -his heart. Time and again he alludes to it as the main object of his -researches and the aim of his labors. Other motives of action undoubtedly -he had, but they were a means to an end. - -Moreover, may we not reasonably assume that the great navigator, after -all, was a willing instrument in the hands of God? The old order -was changing. Three great inventions, already beginning to exert a -most potent influence, were destined to revolutionize the world—the -printing-press, which led to the revival of learning; the use of -gun-powder, which changed the methods of warfare; the mariner’s compass, -which permitted the sailor to tempt boldly even unknown seas. - -These three great factors of civilization, each in its own way, so -stimulated human thought that the discovery of America was plainly in the -designs of that Providence which “reacheth from end to end mightily and -ordereth all things sweetly.” - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Michael Augustine Corrigan (1839-1902) was born in - Newark, New Jersey. He became Archbishop of New York and was a - distinguished Prelate. This selection is taken from a Columbus Day - address he gave in Chicago in 1892. - - =Discussion.= 1. Explain the comparison found in the second line. 2. - What claims does the author make for Columbus as a scientific man? - 3. What great inventions occurred previous to Columbus’s voyage that - affected his discovery of America? 4. Do you think the spirit of - adventure had something to do with Columbus’s discovery? Pronounce - the following: government; acumen; exploits; geographers; alludes. - - =Phrases= - - unworthy innuendoes, 405, 11 - critical acumen, 405, 14 - potent influence, 406, 22 - factors of civilization, 406, 27 - - -THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS - -FELICIA HEMANS - - The breaking waves dashed high - On a stern and rock-bound coast, - And the woods against a stormy sky - Their giant branches tossed; - - And the heavy night hung dark - The hills and waters o’er, - When a band of exiles moored their bark - On the wild New England shore. - - Not as the conqueror comes, - They, the true-hearted, came; - Not with the roll of the stirring drums, - And the trumpet that sings of fame; - - Not as the flying come, - In silence and in fear; - They shook the depths of the desert gloom - With their hymns of lofty cheer. - - Amidst the storm they sang, - And the stars heard and the sea; - And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang - To the anthem of the free! - - The ocean eagle soared - From his nest by the white wave’s foam; - And the rocking pines of the forest roared— - This was their welcome home! - - There were men with hoary hair - Amidst that pilgrim band; - Why had _they_ come to wither there, - Away from their childhood’s land? - - There was woman’s fearless eye, - Lit by her deep love’s truth; - There was manhood’s brow serenely high, - And the fiery heart of youth. - - What sought they thus afar? - Bright jewels of the mine? - The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? - They sought a faith’s pure shrine! - - Ay, call it holy ground, - The soil where first they trod. - They have left unstained what there they found— - Freedom to worship God. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Felicia Hemans (1793-1835), an English poet, was born - in Liverpool. She began to write poetry when young, and in 1819 won - a prize of £50 offered for the best poem on “The Meeting of Wallace - and Bruce on the Banks of the Carron.” She is best known by her short - poems, some of which have become standard English lyrics, such as - “The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers,” “Treasures of the Deep,” and - “Casabianca.” - - =Discussion.= 1. What picture do the first two stanzas give you? 2. - Compare the coming of a conqueror with the coming of these early - settlers. 3. What different kinds of persons composed the “pilgrim - band”? 4. Why did they come to this new country? 5. Why does the poet - say “holy ground”? 6. What legacy have the Pilgrims left us? - - =Phrases= - - hung dark, 407, 5 - stirring drums, 407, 11 - hoary hair, 408, 1 - pilgrim band, 408, 2 - spoils of war, 408, 11 - faith’s pure shrine, 408, 12 - - -PHILIP OF POKANOKET - -AN INDIAN MEMOIR - -WASHINGTON IRVING - - As monumental bronze unchanged his look; - A soul that pity touch’d but never shook; - Train’d from his tree-rock’d cradle to his bier, - The fierce extremes of good and ill to brook - Impassive—fearing but the shame of fear— - A stoic of the woods—a man without a tear. - - CAMPBELL. - -It is to be regretted that those early writers, who treated of the -discovery and settlement of America, have not given us more particular -and candid accounts of the remarkable characters that flourished in -savage life. The scanty anecdotes which have reached us are full of -peculiarity and interest; they furnish us with nearer glimpses of -human nature, and show what man is in a comparatively primitive state, -and what he owes to civilization. There is something of the charm of -discovery in lighting upon these wild and unexplored tracts of human -nature; in witnessing, as it were, the native growth of moral sentiment, -and perceiving those generous and romantic qualities which have been -artificially cultivated by society, vegetating in spontaneous hardihood -and rude magnificence. - -In civilized life, where the happiness, and indeed almost the existence, -of man depends so much upon the opinion of his fellow-men, he is -constantly acting a studied part. The bold and peculiar traits of native -character are refined away, or softened down by the leveling influence of -what is termed good-breeding; and he practices so many petty deceptions, -and affects so many generous sentiments, for the purposes of popularity, -that it is difficult to distinguish his real from his artificial -character. The Indian, on the contrary, free from the restraints and -refinements of polished life, and, in a great degree, a solitary and -independent being, obeys the impulses of his inclination or the dictates -of his judgment; and thus the attributes of his nature, being freely -indulged, grow singly great and striking. Society is like a lawn, where -every roughness is smoothed, every bramble eradicated, and where the eye -is delighted by the smiling verdure of a velvet surface; he, however, -who would study nature in its wildness and variety, must plunge into -the forest, must explore the glen, must stem the torrent, and dare the -precipice. - -These reflections arose on casually looking through a volume of early -colonial history, wherein are recorded, with great bitterness, the -outrages of the Indians, and their wars with the settlers of New England. -It is painful to perceive even from these partial narratives, how the -footsteps of civilization may be traced in the blood of the aborigines; -how easily the colonists were moved to hostility by the lust of conquest; -how merciless and exterminating was their warfare. The imagination -shrinks at the idea, how many intellectual beings were hunted from the -earth, how many brave and noble hearts, of nature’s sterling coinage, -were broken down and trampled in the dust! - -Such was the fate of Philip of Pokanoket, an Indian warrior, whose name -was once a terror throughout Massachusetts and Connecticut. He was the -most distinguished of a number of contemporary Sachems who reigned over -the Pequods, the Narragansets, the Wampanoags, and the other eastern -tribes, at the time of the first settlement of New England; a band of -native untaught heroes, who made the most generous struggle of which -human nature is capable; fighting to the last gasp in the cause of their -country, without a hope of victory or a thought of renown. Worthy of an -age of poetry, and fit subjects for local story and romantic fiction, -they have left scarcely any authentic traces on the page of history, but -stalk, like gigantic shadows, in the dim twilight of tradition. - -When the pilgrims, as the Plymouth settlers are called by their -descendants, first took refuge on the shores of the New World, from -the religious persecutions of the Old, their situation was to the -last degree gloomy and disheartening. Few in number, and that number -rapidly perishing away through sickness and hardships; surrounded by a -howling wilderness and savage tribes; exposed to the rigors of an almost -arctic winter, and the vicissitudes of an ever-shifting climate; their -minds were filled with doleful forebodings, and nothing preserved them -from sinking into despondency but the strong excitement of religious -enthusiasm. In this forlorn situation they were visited by Massasoit, -chief Sagamore of the Wampanoags, a powerful chief, who reigned over a -great extent of country. Instead of taking advantage of the scanty number -of the strangers, and expelling them from his territories, into which -they had intruded, he seemed at once to conceive for them a generous -friendship, and extended toward them the rites of primitive hospitality. -He came early in the spring to their settlement of New Plymouth, attended -by a mere handful of followers, entered into a solemn league of peace -and amity; sold them a portion of the soil, and promised to secure for -them the good-will of his savage allies. Whatever may be said of Indian -perfidy, it is certain that the integrity and good faith of Massasoit -have never been impeached. He continued a firm and magnanimous friend -of the white men; suffering them to extend their possessions, and to -strengthen themselves in the land; and betraying no jealousy of their -increasing power and prosperity. Shortly before his death he came once -more to New Plymouth, with his son Alexander, for the purpose of renewing -the covenant of peace, and of securing it to his posterity. - -At this conference he endeavored to protect the religion of his -forefathers from the encroaching zeal of the missionaries; and stipulated -that no further attempt should be made to draw off his people from their -ancient faith; but, finding the English obstinately opposed to any such -condition, he mildly relinquished the demand. Almost the last act of -his life was to bring his two sons, Alexander and Philip (as they had -been named by the English), to the residence of a principal settler, -recommending mutual kindness and confidence; and entreating that the same -love and amity which had existed between the white men and himself might -be continued afterwards with his children. The good old Sachem died in -peace, and was happily gathered to his fathers before sorrow came upon -his tribe; his children remained behind to experience the ingratitude of -white men. - -His eldest son, Alexander, succeeded him. He was of a quick and impetuous -temper, and proudly tenacious of his hereditary rights and dignity. The -intrusive policy and dictatorial conduct of the strangers excited his -indignation; and he beheld with uneasiness their exterminating wars with -the neighboring tribes. He was doomed soon to incur their hostility, -being accused of plotting with the Narragansets to rise against the -English and drive them from the land. It is impossible to say whether -this accusation was warranted by facts or was grounded on mere suspicion. -It is evident, however, by the violent and overbearing measures of the -settlers, that they had by this time begun to feel conscious of the rapid -increase of their power, and to grow harsh and inconsiderate in their -treatment of the natives. They despatched an armed force to seize upon -Alexander, and to bring him before their courts. He was traced to his -woodland haunts, and surprised at a hunting house, where he was reposing -with a band of his followers, unarmed, after the toils of the chase. -The suddenness of his arrest, and the outrage offered to his sovereign -dignity, so preyed upon the irascible feelings of this proud savage, as -to throw him into a raging fever. He was permitted to return home, on -condition of sending his son as a pledge for his reappearance; but the -blow he had received was fatal, and before he had reached his home he -fell a victim to the agonies of a wounded spirit. - -The successor of Alexander was Metacomet, or King Philip, as he was -called by the settlers, on account of his lofty spirit and ambitious -temper. These, together with his well-known energy and enterprise, had -rendered him an object of great jealousy and apprehension, and he was -accused of having always cherished a secret and implacable hostility -toward the whites. Such may very probably, and very naturally, have -been the case. He considered them as originally but mere intruders into -the country, who had presumed upon indulgence, and were extending an -influence baneful to savage life. He saw the whole race of his countrymen -melting before them from the face of the earth; their territories -slipping from their hands, and their tribes becoming feeble, scattered, -and dependent. It may be said that the soil was originally purchased by -the settlers; but who does not know the nature of Indian purchases, in -the early periods of colonization? The Europeans always made thrifty -bargains through their superior adroitness in traffic; and they gained -vast accessions of territory by easily provoked hostilities. An -uncultivated savage is never a nice inquirer into the refinements of -law, by which an injury may be gradually and legally inflicted. Leading -facts are all by which he judges; and it was enough for Philip to know -that before the intrusion of the Europeans his countrymen were lords of -the soil, and that now they were becoming vagabonds in the land of their -fathers. - -But whatever may have been his feelings of general hostility, and his -particular indignation at the treatment of his brother, he suppressed -them for the present, renewed the contract with the settlers, and -resided peaceably for many years at Pokanoket, or, as it was called by -the English, Mount Hope, the ancient seat of dominion of his tribe. -Suspicions, however, which were at first but vague and indefinite, -began to acquire form and substance; and he was at length charged with -attempting to instigate the various Eastern tribes to rise at once, and, -by a simultaneous effort, to throw off the yoke of their oppressors. It -is difficult at this distant period to assign the proper credit due to -these early accusations against the Indians. There was a proneness to -suspicion, and an aptness to acts of violence, on the part of the whites, -that gave weight and importance to every idle tale. Informers abounded -where talebearing met with countenance and reward; and the sword was -readily unsheathed when its success was certain, and it carved out empire. - -The only positive evidence on record against Philip is the accusation of -one Sausaman, a renegado Indian, whose natural cunning had been quickened -by a partial education which he had received among the settlers. He -changed his faith and his allegiance two or three times, with a facility -that evinced the looseness of his principles. He had acted for some time -as Philip’s confidential secretary and counselor and had enjoyed his -bounty and protection. Finding, however, that the clouds of adversity -were gathering round his patron, he abandoned his service and went over -to the whites; and, in order to gain their favor, charged his former -benefactor with plotting against their safety. A rigorous investigation -took place. Philip and several of his subjects submitted to be examined, -but nothing was proved against them. The settlers, however, had now gone -too far to retract; they had previously determined that Philip was a -dangerous neighbor; they had publicly evinced their distrust; and had -done enough to insure his hostility; according, therefore, to the usual -mode of reasoning in these cases, his destruction had become necessary -to their security. Sausaman, the treacherous informer, was shortly -afterwards found dead in a pond, having fallen a victim to the vengeance -of his tribe. Three Indians, one of whom was a friend and counselor of -Philip, were apprehended and tried, and, on the testimony of one very -questionable witness, were condemned and executed as murderers. - -This treatment of his subjects, and ignominious punishment of his friend, -outraged the pride and exasperated the passions of Philip. The bolt which -had fallen thus at his very feet awakened him to the gathering storm, and -he determined to trust himself no longer in the power of the white men. -The fate of his insulted and broken-hearted brother still rankled in his -mind and he had a further warning in the tragical story of Miantonimo, a -great Sachem of the Narragansets, who, after manfully facing his accusers -before a tribunal of the colonists, exculpating himself from a charge -of conspiracy, and receiving assurances of amity, had been perfidiously -despatched at their instigation. Philip, therefore, gathered his fighting -men about him; persuaded all strangers that he could, to join his cause; -sent the women and children to the Narragansets for safety; and, wherever -he appeared, was continually surrounded by armed warriors. - -When the two parties were thus in a state of distrust and irritation, -the least spark was sufficient to set them in a flame. The Indians, -having weapons in their hands, grew mischievous, and committed various -petty depredations. In one of their maraudings a warrior was fired on -and killed by a settler. This was the signal for open hostilities; the -Indians pressed to revenge the death of their comrade, and the alarm of -war resounded through the Plymouth colony. - -In the early chronicles of these dark and melancholy times we meet -with many indications of the diseased state of the public mind. The -gloom of religious abstraction, and the wildness of their situation, -among trackless forests and savage tribes, had disposed the colonists -to superstitious fancies, and had filled their imaginations with the -frightful chimeras of witchcraft and spectrology. They were much given -also to a belief in omens. The troubles with Philip and his Indians were -preceded, we are told, by a variety of those awful warnings which forerun -great and public calamities. The perfect form of an Indian bow appeared -in the air at New Plymouth, which was looked upon by the inhabitants as -a “prodigious apparition,” At Hadley, Northampton, and other towns in -their neighborhood, “was heard the report of a great piece of ordnance, -with a shaking of the earth and a considerable echo.” Others were alarmed -on a still, sunshiny morning, by the discharge of guns and muskets; -bullets seemed to whistle past them, and the noise of drums resounded in -the air, seeming to pass away to the westward; others fancied that they -heard the galloping of horses over their heads; and certain monstrous -births, which took place about the time, filled the superstitious in -some towns with doleful forebodings. Many of these portentous sights and -sounds may be ascribed to natural phenomena: to the northern lights which -occur vividly in those latitudes; the meteors which explode in the air; -the casual rushing of a blast through the top branches of the forest; -the crash of fallen trees or disrupted rocks; and to those other uncouth -sounds and echoes which will sometimes strike the ear so strangely amidst -the profound stillness of woodland solitudes. These may have startled -some melancholy imaginations, may have been exaggerated by the love of -the marvelous, and listened to with that avidity with which we devour -whatever is fearful and mysterious. The universal currency of these -superstitious fancies, and the grave record made of them by one of the -learned men of the day, are strongly characteristic of the times. - -The nature of the contest that ensued was such as too often distinguishes -the warfare between civilized men and savages. On the part of the -whites it was conducted with superior skill and success; but with a -wastefulness of the blood, and a disregard of the natural rights of their -antagonists; on the part of the Indians it was waged with the desperation -of men fearless of death, and who had nothing to expect from peace, but -humiliation, dependence, and decay. - -The events of the war are transmitted to us by a worthy clergyman of the -time, who dwells with horror and indignation on every hostile act of the -Indians, however justifiable, whilst he mentions with applause the most -sanguinary atrocities of the whites. Philip is reviled as a murderer and -a traitor, without considering that he was a true born prince, gallantly -fighting at the head of his subjects to avenge the wrongs of his family, -to retrieve the tottering power of his line, and to deliver his native -land from the oppression of usurping strangers. - -The project of a wide and simultaneous revolt, if such had really been -formed, was worthy of a capacious mind, and, had it not been prematurely -discovered, might have been overwhelming in its consequences. The war -that actually broke out was but a war of detail, a mere succession of -casual exploits and unconnected enterprises. Still it sets forth the -military genius and daring prowess of Philip; and wherever, in the -prejudiced and passionate narrations that have been given of it, we -can arrive at simple facts, we find him displaying a vigorous mind, a -fertility of expedients, a contempt of suffering and hardship, and an -unconquerable resolution, that command our sympathy and applause. - -Driven from his paternal domains at Mount Hope, he threw himself into the -depths of those vast and trackless forests that skirted the settlements, -and were almost impervious to anything but a wild beast or an Indian. -Here he gathered together his forces, like the storm accumulating -its stores of mischief in the bosom of the thunder cloud, and would -suddenly emerge at a time and place least expected, carrying havoc and -dismay into the villages. There were now and then indications of these -impending ravages, that filled the minds of the colonists with awe and -apprehension. The report of a distant gun would perhaps be heard from -the solitary woodlands, where there was known to be no white man; the -cattle which had been wandering in the woods would sometimes return home -wounded; or an Indian or two would be seen lurking about the skirts of -the forests, and suddenly disappearing; as the lightning will sometimes -be seen playing silently about the edge of the cloud that is brewing up -the tempest. - -Though sometimes pursued and even surrounded by the settlers, yet Philip -as often escaped almost miraculously from their toils, and, plunging into -the wilderness, would be lost to all search or inquiry, until he again -emerged at some far distant quarter, laying the country desolate. Among -his strongholds were the great swamps or morasses, which extend in some -parts of New England; composed of loose bogs of deep black mud; perplexed -with thickets, brambles, rank weeds, the shattered and moldering trunks -of fallen trees, overshadowed by lugubrious hemlocks. The uncertain -footing and the tangled mazes of these shaggy wilds rendered them -almost impracticable to the white man, though the Indian could thread -their labyrinths with the agility of a deer. Into one of these, the -great swamp of Pocasset Neck, was Philip once driven with a band of his -followers. The English did not dare to pursue him, fearing to venture -into these dark and frightful recesses, where they might perish in fens -and miry pits, or be shot down by lurking foes. They therefore invested -the entrance to the Neck, and began to build a fort, with the thought -of starving out the foe; but Philip and his warriors wafted themselves -on a raft over an arm of the sea, in the dead of the night, leaving the -women and children behind; and escaped away to the westward, kindling the -flames of war among the tribes of Massachusetts and the Nipmuck country, -and threatening the colony of Connecticut. - -In this way Philip became a theme of universal apprehension. The mystery -in which he was enveloped exaggerated his real terrors. He was an evil -that walked in darkness; whose coming none could foresee, and against -which none knew when to be on the alert. The whole country abounded -with rumors and alarms. Philip seemed almost possessed of ubiquity; for, -in whatever part of the widely-extended frontier an irruption from the -forest took place, Philip was said to be its leader. Many superstitious -notions also were circulated concerning him. He was said to deal in -necromancy, and to be attended by an old Indian witch or prophetess, whom -he consulted, and who assisted him by her charms and incantations. This -indeed was frequently the case with Indian chiefs; either through their -own credulity, or to act upon that of their followers; and the influence -of the prophet and the dreamer over Indian superstition has been fully -evidenced in recent instances of savage warfare. - -At the time that Philip effected his escape from Pocasset, his fortunes -were in a desperate condition. His forces had been thinned by repeated -fights, and he had lost almost the whole of his resources. In this time -of adversity he found a faithful friend in Canonchet, chief Sachem of -all the Narragansets. He was the son and heir of Miantonimo, the great -Sachem, who, as already mentioned, after an honorable acquittal of the -charge of conspiracy, had been privately put to death at the perfidious -instigations of the settlers. “He was the heir,” says the old chronicler, -“of all his father’s pride and insolence, as well as of his malice toward -the English”;—he certainly was the heir of his insults and injuries, and -the legitimate avenger of his murder. Though he had forborne to take an -active part in this hopeless war, yet he received Philip and his broken -forces with open arms; and gave them the most generous countenance and -support. This at once drew upon him the hostility of the English; and -it was determined to strike a signal blow that should involve both the -Sachems in one common ruin. A great force was, therefore, gathered -together from Massachusetts, Plymouth, and Connecticut, and was sent into -the Narraganset country in the depth of winter, when the swamps, being -frozen and leafless, could be traversed with comparative facility, and -would no longer afford dark and impenetrable fastnesses to the Indians. - -Apprehensive of attack, Canonchet had conveyed the greater part of his -stores, together with the old, the infirm, the women and children of -his tribe, to a strong fortress; where he and Philip had likewise drawn -up the flower of their forces. This fortress, deemed by the Indians -impregnable, was situated upon a rising mound or kind of island, of five -or six acres, in the midst of a swamp; it was constructed with a degree -of judgment and skill vastly superior to what is usually displayed in -Indian fortification, and indicative of the martial genius of these two -chieftains. - -Guided by a renegado Indian, the English penetrated, through December -snows, to this stronghold, and came upon the garrison by surprise. The -fight was fierce and tumultuous. The assailants were repulsed in their -first attack, and several of their bravest officers were shot down in the -act of storming the fortress sword in hand. The assault was renewed with -greater success. A lodgment was effected. The Indians were driven from -one post to another. They disputed their ground inch by inch, fighting -with the fury of despair. Most of their veterans were cut to pieces; and -after a long and bloody battle, Philip and Canonchet, with a handful -of surviving warriors, retreated from the fort, and took refuge in the -thickets of the surrounding forest. - -The victors set fire to the wigwams and the fort; the whole was soon in -a blaze; many of the old men, the women, and the children perished in -the flames. This last outrage overcame even the stoicism of the savage. -The neighboring woods resounded with the yells of rage and despair, -uttered by the fugitive warriors, as they beheld the destruction of their -dwellings, and heard the agonizing cries of their wives and offspring. -“The burning of the wigwams,” says a contemporary writer, “the shrieks -and cries of the women and children, and the yelling of the warriors, -exhibited a most horrible and affecting scene, so that it greatly moved -some of the soldiers.” The same writer cautiously adds, “They were in -_much doubt_ then, and afterwards seriously inquired, whether burning -their enemies alive could be consistent with humanity, and the benevolent -principles of the Gospel.” - -The fate of the brave and generous Canonchet is worthy of particular -mention: the last scene of his life is one of the noblest instances on -record of Indian magnanimity. - -Broken down in his power and resources by this signal defeat, yet -faithful to his ally, and to the hapless cause which he had espoused, -he rejected all overtures of peace, offered on condition of betraying -Philip and his followers, and declared that “he would fight it out to -the last man, rather than become a servant to the English.” His home -being destroyed, his country harassed and laid waste by the incursions -of the conquerors, he was obliged to wander away to the banks of the -Connecticut; where he formed a rallying point to the whole body of -western Indians, and laid waste several of the English settlements. - -Early in the spring he departed on a hazardous expedition, with only -thirty chosen men, to penetrate to Seaconck, in the vicinity of Mount -Hope, and to procure seed corn to plant for the sustenance of his troops. -This little band of adventurers had passed safely through the Pequod -country, and were in the center of the Narraganset, resting at some -wigwams near Pawtucket River, when an alarm was given of an approaching -enemy. Having but seven men by him at the time, Canonchet dispatched two -of them to the top of a neighboring hill, to bring intelligence of the -foe. - -Panic-struck by the appearance of a troop of English and Indians rapidly -advancing, they fled in breathless terror past their chieftain, without -stopping to inform him of the danger. Canonchet sent another scout, -who did the same. He then sent two more, one of whom, hurrying back in -confusion and affright, told him that the whole British army was at hand. -Canonchet saw there was no choice but immediate flight. He attempted to -escape round the hill, but was perceived and hotly pursued by the hostile -Indians and a few of the fleetest of the English. Finding the swiftest -pursuer close upon his heels, he threw off, first his blanket, then his -silver-laced coat and belt of peag, by which his enemies knew him to be -Canonchet, and redoubled the eagerness of pursuit. - -At length, in dashing through the river, his foot slipped upon a stone, -and he fell so deep as to wet his gun. This accident so struck him with -despair, that, as he afterwards confessed, “his heart and his bowels -turned within him, and he became like a rotten stick, void of strength.” - -To such a degree was he unnerved that, being seized by a Pequod Indian -within a short distance of the river, he made no resistance, though a man -of great vigor of body and boldness of heart. But on being made prisoner -the whole pride of his spirit arose within him; and from that moment -we find, in the anecdotes given by his enemies, nothing but repeated -flashes of elevated and prince-like heroism. Being questioned by one -of the English who first came up with him, and who had not attained -his twenty-second year, the proud-hearted warrior, looking with lofty -contempt upon his youthful countenance, replied, “You are a child—you -cannot understand matters of war—let your brother or your chief come—him -will I answer.” - -Though repeated offers were made to him of his life, on condition of -submitting with his nation to the English, yet he rejected them with -disdain, and refused to send any proposals of the kind to the great body -of his subjects; saying that he knew none of them would comply. Being -reproached with his breach of faith toward the whites, his boast that he -would not deliver up a Wampanoag nor the paring of a Wampanoag’s nail, -and his threat that he would burn the English alive in their houses, he -disdained to justify himself, haughtily answering that others were as -forward for the war as himself, and he desired to hear no more thereof. - -So noble and unshaken a spirit, so true a fidelity to his cause and his -friend, might have touched the feelings of the generous and the brave; -but Canonchet was an Indian, a being toward whom war had no courtesy, -humanity no law, religion no compassion—he was condemned to die. The last -words of him that are recorded are worthy the greatness of his soul. When -sentence of death was passed upon him, he observed that he liked it well, -for he should die before his heart was soft, or he had spoken any thing -unworthy of himself. His enemies gave him the death of a soldier, for he -was shot at Stoningham, by three young Sachems of his own rank. - -The defeat at the Narraganset fortress, and the death of Canonchet, -were fatal blows to the fortunes of King Philip. He made an ineffectual -attempt to raise a head of war, by stirring up the Mohawks to take -arms; but though possessed of the native talents of a statesman, his -arts were counteracted by the superior arts of his enlightened enemies, -and the terror of their warlike skill began to subdue the resolution -of the neighboring tribes. The unfortunate chieftain saw himself daily -stripped of power, and his ranks rapidly thinning around him. Some were -suborned by the whites; others fell victims to hunger and fatigue, -and to the frequent attacks by which they were harassed. His stores -were all captured; his chosen friends were swept away from before his -eyes; his uncle was shot down by his side; his sister was carried into -captivity; and in one of his narrow escapes he was compelled to leave -his beloved wife and only son to the mercy of the enemy. “His ruin,” -says the historian, “being thus gradually carried on, his misery was not -prevented, but augmented thereby; being himself made acquainted with the -sense and experimental feeling of the captivity of his children, loss of -friends, slaughter of his subjects, bereavement of all family relations, -and being stripped of all outward comforts, before his own life should be -taken away.” - -To fill up the measure of his misfortunes, his own followers began to -plot against his life, that by sacrificing him they might purchase -dishonorable safety. Through treachery a number of his faithful -adherents, the subjects of Wetamoe, an Indian princess of Pocasset, a -near kinswoman and confederate of Philip, were betrayed into the hands of -the enemy. Wetamoe was among them at the time, and attempted to make her -escape by crossing a neighboring river; either exhausted by swimming, or -starved by cold and hunger, she was found dead and naked near the water -side. - -However Philip had borne up against the complicated miseries and -misfortunes that surrounded him, the treachery of his followers seemed to -wring his heart and reduce him to despondency. It is said that “he never -rejoiced afterwards, nor had success in any of his designs.” The spring -of hope was broken—the ardor of enterprise was extinguished—he looked -around, and all was danger and darkness; there was no eye to pity, nor -any arm that could bring deliverance. With a scanty band of followers, -who still remained true to his desperate fortunes, the unhappy Philip -wandered back to the vicinity of Mount Hope, the ancient dwelling of his -fathers. Here he lurked about, like a specter, among the scenes of former -power and prosperity, now bereft of home, of family, and friend. There -needs no better picture of his destitute and piteous situation than that -furnished by the homely pen of the chronicler, who is unwarily enlisting -the feelings of the reader in favor of the hapless warrior whom he -reviles. “Philip,” he says, “like a savage wild beast, having been hunted -by the English forces through the woods, above a hundred miles backward -and forward, at last was driven to his own den upon Mount Hope, where he -retired, with a few of his best friends, into a swamp, which proved but -a prison to keep him fast till the messengers of death came by divine -permission to execute vengeance upon him.” - -Even in this last refuge of desperation and despair, a sullen grandeur -gathers round his memory. We picture him to ourselves seated among his -careworn followers, brooding in silence over his blasted fortunes, -and acquiring a savage sublimity from the wildness and dreariness of -his lurking-place. Defeated, but not dismayed—crushed to the earth, -but not humiliated—he seemed to grow more haughty beneath disaster, -and to experience a fierce satisfaction in draining the last dregs of -bitterness. Little minds are tamed and subdued by misfortune; but great -minds rise above it. The very idea of submission awakened the fury of -Philip, and he smote to death one of his followers, who proposed an -expedient of peace. The brother of the victim made his escape, and in -revenge betrayed the retreat of his chieftain. A body of white men -and Indians were immediately dispatched to the swamp where Philip lay -crouched, glaring with fury and despair. Before he was aware of their -approach, they had begun to surround him. In a little while he saw five -of his trustiest followers laid dead at his feet; all resistance was -vain; he rushed forth from his covert, and made a headlong attempt to -escape, but was shot through the heart by a renegado Indian of his own -nation. - -Such is the scanty story of the brave but unfortunate King Philip; -persecuted while living, slandered and dishonored when dead. If, -however, we consider even the prejudiced anecdotes furnished us by his -enemies, we may perceive in them traces of amiable and lofty character -sufficient to awaken sympathy for his fate and respect for his memory. -We find that, amidst all the harassing cares and ferocious passions of -constant warfare, he was alive to the softer feelings of connubial love -and paternal tenderness, and to the generous sentiment of friendship. -The captivity of his “beloved wife and only son” are mentioned with -exultation as causing him poignant misery; the death of any near friend -is triumphantly recorded as a new blow on his sensibilities; but the -treachery and desertion of many of his followers, in whose affections he -had confided, is said to have desolated his heart, and to have bereaved -him of all further comfort. He was a patriot attached to his native -soil—a prince true to his subjects, and indignant of their wrongs—a -soldier, daring in battle, firm in adversity, patient of fatigue, of -hunger, of every variety of bodily suffering, and ready to perish in -the cause he had espoused. Proud of heart, and with an untamable love -of natural liberty, he preferred to enjoy it among the beasts of the -forests or in the dismal and famished recesses of swamps and morasses, -rather than bow his haughty spirit to submission, and live dependent and -despised in the ease and luxury of the settlements. With heroic qualities -and bold achievements that would have graced a civilized warrior and have -rendered him the theme of the poet and the historian, he lived a wanderer -and a fugitive in his native land, and went down, like a lonely bark -foundering amid darkness and tempest—without a pitying eye to weep his -fall or a friendly hand to record his struggle. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Washington Irving (1783-1859) was born in New York - City in the very year in which the Treaty of Peace that ended the - Revolutionary War was signed. He was destined to do for American - literature what the War had already done for the American government - and people—make it respected among all nations. Irving’s mother said, - “Washington’s great work is done; let us name our boy Washington,” - little dreaming when thus naming him after the Father of his Country - that he should one day come to be called the “Father of American - Letters.” - - On April 30, 1789, when this little boy was six years old, his father - took him to Federal Hall in Wall Street, to witness Washington’s - inauguration as the first president of the United States. It is told - that President Washington laid his hand kindly on the head of his - little namesake and gave him his blessing. - - Young Washington Irving led a happy life, rambling in his boyhood - about every nook and corner of the city and the adjacent woods, - which at that time were not very far to seek, idling about the busy - wharves, making occasional trips up the lordly Hudson, roaming, - gun in hand, along its banks and over the neighboring Kaatskills, - listening to the tales of old Dutch landlords and gossipy old Dutch - housewives. When he became a young man he wove these old tales, - scenes, experiences, and much more that his imagination and his merry - humor added, into some of the most rollicking, mirthful stories that - had been read in many a day. The first of these was a burlesque - _History of New York_, purporting to have been found among the papers - of a certain old Dutch burgher by the name of Diedrich Knickerbocker - (1809). This may be said to have been his first important work. It - made him instantly famous. But better than that, it silenced the - sneers of the English critics who, up to that time, had been asking - contemptuously, “Who reads an American book?” and set them all to - reading and laughing over it with the rest of the world. It also - showed to Americans as well as to foreigners what wealth of literary - material this new country already possessed in its local legends and - history. - - Ten years later, during his residence in England (1819-20), Irving - published _The Sketch Book_, containing the inimitable “Rip van - Winkle” and the delightful “Legend of Sleepy Hollow.” This may be - said to mark the real beginning of American literature. - - A visit to Spain resulted in _The Alhambra_ and _The Life of - Columbus_, descriptive and historical works in which Irving won - as great success as he had attained with his humorous tales. Then - followed some years of quiet life at his beautiful home, Sunnyside, - near Tarrytown on the Hudson, in the midst of the favorite haunts of - his boyhood days and the scenes which his pen had immortalized. He - was not idle, however, for a half-dozen works appeared during these - stay-at-home years, some of them growing out of his travels through - our then rapidly expanding West. Only once more did he leave his - native shores, when he served as Minister to Spain (1842-46). But - through all his life he seems to have cherished a patriotic reverence - for the great American whose name he bore, and now, as the crowning - work of his ripe old age, he devoted his last years to completing his - _Life of Washington_, the fifth and final volume of which appeared - but a few months before his death on November 28, 1859. His genial, - cheerful nature shines through all his works and makes him still, as - his friend Thackeray said of him in his lifetime, “beloved of all the - world.” - - =Discussion.= 1. What effect does Irving say civilized life has - upon traits of native character? 2. Explain the comparison, - “Society is like a lawn.” 3. Who was Philip of Pokanoket? 4. What - “league of peace” did Massasoit make with the Plymouth settlers? - 5. Give an account of Alexander’s career as Sachem. 6. What was - the attitude of the white settlers toward Philip? 7. What evidence - of friendliness toward the settlers did he give? 8. What omens - disturbed the Indians? 9. What natural explanation can you give for - these “awful warnings”? 10. Give a brief account of the Indian war - that followed. 11. Describe the death of King Philip. 12. Point - out evidences of military ability on the part of King Philip. 13. - What traces of lofty character does Philip show in the face of - persecution? 14. Read passages that show his courage. 15. Does Irving - give you the impression that the white settlers may have been partly - responsible for the conflict with King Philip and his followers? - 16. Other interesting books dealing with Indian life are Cooper’s - _Leather Stocking Tales_ and his _The Last of the Mohicans_; have - you read these? 17. Pronounce the following: attributes; aborigines; - Sachem; amity; tenacious; haunts; implacable; simultaneous; patron; - mischievous; revolt; indicative; harassed. - - =Phrases= - - artificially cultivated, 409, 11 - vegetating in spontaneous hardihood, 409, 12 - petty deceptions, 409, 19 - affects so many generous sentiments, 409, 19 - impulses of his inclination, 410, 2 - dictates of his judgment, 410, 2 - smiling verdure, 410, 6 - footsteps of civilization, 410, 14 - sterling coinage, 410, 19 - any authentic traces, 410, 31 - dim twilight of tradition, 410, 32 - doleful forebodings, 411, 5 - rites of primitive hospitality, 411, 13 - encroaching zeal, 411, 27 - proudly tenacious, 412, 4 - hereditary rights and dignity, 412, 4 - intrusive policy, 412, 5 - after the toils of the chase, 412, 19 - sovereign dignity, 412, 20 - implacable hostility, 412, 32 - superior adroitness, 413, 5 - easily provoked hostilities, 413, 7 - proneness to suspicion, 413, 25 - ignominious punishment, 414, 18 - exasperated the passions, 414, 19 - perfidiously despatched, 414, 28 - religious abstraction, 415, 6 - superstitious fancies, 415, 8 - frightful chimeras of witchcraft, 415, 9 - portentous sights and sounds, 415, 25 - capacious mind, 416, 19 - casual exploits, 416, 22 - fertility of expedients, 416, 26 - impending ravages, 416, 37 - lugubrious hemlocks, 417, 18 - possessed of ubiquity, 418, 2 - perfidious instigations, 418, 20 - legitimate avenger, 418, 24 - comparative facility, 418, 34 - incursions of the conquerors, 420, 6 - subdue the resolution, 422, 3 - suborned by the whites, 422, 5 - sullen grandeur, 423, 15 - savage sublimity, 423, 18 - graced a civilized warrior, 424, 22 - - -THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH - -HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW - -MILES STANDISH - - In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of the Pilgrims, - To and fro in a room of his simple and primitive dwelling, - Clad in doublet and hose, and boots of Cordovan leather, - Strode, with a martial air, Miles Standish the Puritan Captain. - Buried in thought he seemed, with his hands behind him, and pausing - Ever and anon to behold his glittering weapons of warfare, - Hanging in shining array along the walls of the chamber— - Cutlass and corselet of steel, and his trusty sword of Damascus, - Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical Arabic sentence, - While underneath, in a corner, were fowling-piece, musket, and matchlock. - Short of stature he was, but strongly built and athletic, - Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with muscles and sinews of iron; - Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet beard was already - Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges sometimes in November. - Near him was seated John Alden, his friend, and household companion, - Writing with diligent speed at a table of pine by the window; - Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon complexion, - Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty thereof, as the captives - Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, “Not Angles but Angels.” - Youngest of all was he of the men who came in the May Flower. - Suddenly breaking the silence, the diligent scribe interrupting, - Spake, in the pride of his heart, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth. - “Look at these arms,” he said, “the warlike weapons that hang here, - Burnished and bright and clean, as if for parade or inspection! - This is the sword of Damascus I fought with in Flanders; this - breast-plate, - Well I remember the day! once saved my life in a skirmish; - Here in front you can see the very dint of the bullet - Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish arcabucero. - Had it not been of sheer steel, the forgotten bones of Miles Standish - Would at this moment be mold, in their grave in the Flemish morasses.” - Thereupon answered John Alden, but looked not up from his writing: - “Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened the speed of the bullet; - He in his mercy preserved you, to be our shield and our weapon!” - Still the Captain continued, unheeding the words of the stripling: - “See, how bright they are burnished, as if in an arsenal hanging; - That is because I have done it myself, and not left it to others. - Serve yourself, would you be well served, is an excellent adage; - So I take care of my arms, as you of your pens and your ink-horn. - Then, too, there are my soldiers, my great, invincible army, - Twelve men, all equipped, having each his rest and his matchlock, - Eighteen shillings a month, together with diet and pillage, - And, like Cæsar, I know the name of each of my soldiers!” - This he said with a smile, that danced in his eyes, as the sunbeams - Dance on the waves of the sea, and vanish again in a moment. - Alden laughed as he wrote, and still the Captain continued: - “Look! you can see from this window my brazen howitzer planted - High on the roof of the church, a preacher who speaks to the purpose, - Steady, straightforward, and strong, with irresistible logic, - Orthodox, flashing conviction right into the hearts of the heathen. - Now we are ready, I think, for any assault of the Indians; - Let them come, if they like, and the sooner they try it the better— - Let them come if they like, be it sagamore, sachem, or pow-wow, - Aspinet, Samoset, Corbitant, Squanto, or Tokamahamon!” - - Long at the window he stood, and wistfully gazed on the landscape, - Washed with a cold gray mist, the vapory breath of the east wind, - Forest and meadow and hill, and the steel-blue rim of the ocean, - Lying silent and sad, in the afternoon shadows and sunshine. - Over his countenance flitted a shadow like those on the landscape, - Gloom intermingled with light; and his voice was subdued with emotion, - Tenderness, pity, regret, as after a pause he proceeded: - “Yonder there, on the hill by the sea, lies buried Rose Standish; - Beautiful rose of love, that bloomed for me by the wayside! - She was the first to die of all who came in the May Flower! - Green above her is growing the field of wheat we have sown there, - Better to hide from the Indian scouts the graves of our people, - Lest they should count them and see how many already have perished!” - Sadly his face he averted, and strode up and down, and was thoughtful. - - Fixed to the opposite wall was a shelf of books, and among them - Prominent three, distinguished alike for bulk and for binding: - Bariffe’s Artillery Guide, and the Commentaries of Cæsar, - Out of the Latin translated by Arthur Goldinge of London, - And, as if guarded by these, between them was standing the Bible. - Musing a moment before them, Miles Standish paused, as if doubtful - Which of the three he should choose for his consolation and comfort, - Whether the wars of the Hebrews, the famous campaigns of the Romans, - Or the Artillery practice, designed for belligerent Christians. - Finally down from its shelf he dragged the ponderous Roman, - Seated himself at the window, and opened the book, and in silence - Turned o’er the well-worn leaves, where thumb-marks thick on the margin, - Like the trample of feet, proclaimed the battle was hottest. - Nothing was heard in the room but the hurrying pen of the stripling, - Busily writing epistles important, to go by the May Flower, - Ready to sail on the morrow, or next day at latest, God willing! - Homeward bound with the tidings of all that terrible winter, - Letters written by Alden, and full of the name of Priscilla, - Full of the name and the fame of the Puritan maiden Priscilla! - -LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP - - Nothing was heard in the room but the hurrying pen of the stripling, - Or an occasional sigh from the laboring heart of the Captain, - Reading the marvelous words and achievements of Julius Cæsar. - After a while he exclaimed, as he smote with his hands, palm downwards, - Heavily on the page: “A wonderful man was this Cæsar! - You are a writer, and I am a fighter, but here is a fellow - Who could both write and fight, and in both was equally skillful!” - Straightway answered and spake John Alden, the comely, the youthful: - “Yes, he was equally skilled, as you say, with his pen and his weapons. - Somewhere have I read, but where I forget, he could dictate - Seven letters at once, at the same time writing his memoirs.” - “Truly,” continued the Captain, not heeding or hearing the other, - “Truly a wonderful man was Caius Julius Cæsar! - Better be first, he said, in a little Iberian village, - Than be second in Rome, and I think he was right when he said it. - Twice was he married before he was twenty, and many times after; - Battles five hundred he fought, and a thousand cities he conquered; - He, too, fought in Flanders, as he himself has recorded; - Finally he was stabbed by his friend, the orator Brutus! - Now, do you know what he did on a certain occasion in Flanders, - When the rear-guard of his army retreated, the front giving way too, - And the immortal Twelfth Legion was crowded so closely together - There was no room for their swords? Why, he seized a shield from a - soldier, - Putting himself straight at the head of his troops, and commanded the - captains, - Calling on each by his name, to order forward the ensigns; - Then to widen the ranks, and give more room for their weapons; - So he won the day, the battle of something-or-other. - That’s what I always say: if you wish a thing to be well done, - You must do it yourself, you must not leave it to others!” - - All was silent again; the Captain continued his reading. - Nothing was heard in the room but the hurrying pen of the stripling - Writing epistles important to go next day by the May Flower, - Filled with the name and the fame of the Puritan maiden Priscilla; - Every sentence began or closed with the name of Priscilla, - Till the treacherous pen, to which he confided the secret, - Strove to betray it by singing and shouting the name of Priscilla! - Finally closing his book, with a bang of the ponderous cover, - Sudden and loud as the sound of a soldier grounding his musket, - Thus to the young man spake Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth: - “When you have finished your work, I have something important to tell - you. - Be not however in haste; I can wait; I shall not be impatient!” - Straightway Alden replied, as he folded the last of his letters, - Pushing his papers aside, and giving respectful attention: - “Speak; for whenever you speak, I am always ready to listen, - Always ready to hear whatever pertains to Miles Standish.” - Thereupon answered the Captain, embarrassed, and culling his phrases: - “’Tis not good for a man to be alone, say the Scriptures. - This I have said before, and again and again I repeat it; - Every hour in the day, I think it, and feel it, and say it. - Since Rose Standish died, my life has been weary and dreary; - Sick at heart have I been, beyond the healing of friendship. - Oft in my lonely hours have I thought of the maiden Priscilla. - She is alone in the world; her father and mother and brother - Died in the winter together; I saw her going and coming, - Now to the grave of the dead, and now to the bed of the dying, - Patient, courageous, and strong, and said to myself, that if ever - There were angels on earth, as there are angels in heaven, - Two have I seen and known; and the angel whose name is Priscilla - Holds in my desolate life the place which the other abandoned. - Long have I cherished the thought, but never have dared to reveal it, - Being a coward in this, though valiant enough for the most part. - Go to the damsel Priscilla, the loveliest maiden of Plymouth, - Say that a blunt old Captain, a man not of words but of actions, - Offers his hand and his heart, the hand and heart of a soldier. - Not in these words, you know, but this in short is my meaning; - I am a maker of war, and not a maker of phrases. - You, who are bred as a scholar, can say it in elegant language, - Such as you read in your books of the pleadings and wooings of lovers, - Such as you think best adapted to win the heart of a maiden.” - - When he had spoken, John Alden, the fair-haired, taciturn stripling, - All aghast at his words, surprised, embarrassed, bewildered, - Trying to mask his dismay by treating the subject with lightness, - Trying to smile, and yet feeling his heart stand still in his bosom, - Just as a timepiece stops in a house that is stricken by lightning, - Thus made answer and spake, or rather stammered than answered: - “Such a message as that I am sure I should mangle and mar it; - If you would have it well done—I am only repeating your maxim— - You must do it yourself, you must not leave it to others!” - But with the air of a man whom nothing can turn from his purpose, - Gravely shaking his head, made answer the Captain of Plymouth: - “Truly the maxim is good, and I do not mean to gainsay it; - But we must use it discreetly, and not waste powder for nothing. - Now, as I said before, I was never a maker of phrases. - I can march up to a fortress and summon the place to surrender, - But march up to a woman with such a proposal, I dare not. - I’m not afraid of bullets, nor shot from the mouth of a cannon, - But of a thundering ‘No!’ point-blank from the mouth of a woman, - That I confess I’m afraid of, nor am I ashamed to confess it! - So you must grant my request, for you are an elegant scholar, - Having the graces of speech, and skill in the turning of phrases.” - Taking the hand of his friend, who still was reluctant and doubtful, - Holding it long in his own, and pressing it kindly, he added: - “Though I have spoken thus lightly, yet deep is the feeling that - prompts me; - Surely you cannot refuse what I ask in the name of our friendship!” - Then made answer John Alden: “The name of friendship is sacred; - What you demand in that name, I have not the power to deny you!” - So the strong will prevailed, subduing and molding the gentler, - Friendship prevailed over love, and Alden went on his errand. - -THE LOVER’S ERRAND - - So the strong will prevailed, and Alden went on his errand, - Out of the street of the village, and into the paths of the forest, - Into the tranquil woods, where bluebirds and robins were building - Towns in the populous trees, with hanging gardens of verdure, - Peaceful, aerial cities of joy and affection and freedom. - All around him was calm, but within him commotion and conflict, - Love contending with friendship, and self with each generous impulse. - To and fro in his breast his thoughts were heaving and dashing, - As in a foundering ship, with every roll of the vessel, - Washes the bitter sea, the merciless surge of the ocean! - “Must I relinquish it all,” he cried with a wild lamentation, - “Must I relinquish it all, the joy, the hope, the illusion? - Was it for this I have loved, and waited, and worshiped in silence? - Was it for this I have followed the flying fleet and the shadow - Over the wintry sea, to the desolate shores of New England? - Truly the heart is deceitful, and out of its depths of corruption - Rise, like an exhalation, the misty phantoms of passion; - Angels of light they seem, but are only delusions of Satan. - All is clear to me now; I feel it, I see it distinctly! - This is the hand of the Lord; it is laid upon me in anger, - For I have followed too much the heart’s desires and devices, - Worshiping Astaroth blindly, and impious idols of Baal. - This is the cross I must bear; the sin and the swift retribution.” - - So through the Plymouth woods John Alden went on his errand; - Crossing the brook at the ford, where it brawled over pebble and - shallow, - Gathering still, as he went, the May-flowers blooming around him, - Fragrant, filling the air with a strange and wonderful sweetness, - Children lost in the woods, and covered with leaves in their slumber. - “Puritan flowers,” he said, “and the type of Puritan maidens, - Modest and simple and sweet, the very type of Priscilla! - So I will take them to her; to Priscilla the May-flower of Plymouth, - Modest and simple and sweet, as a parting gift will I take them; - Breathing their silent farewells, as they fade and wither and perish, - Soon to be thrown away as is the heart of the giver.” - So through the Plymouth woods John Alden went on his errand; - Came to an open space, and saw the disk of the ocean, - Sailless, somber, and cold with the comfortless breath of the east-wind; - Saw the new-built house, and people at work in a meadow; - Heard, as he drew near the door, the musical voice of Priscilla - Singing the hundredth Psalm, the grand old Puritan anthem, - Music that Luther sang to the sacred words of the Psalmist, - Full of the breath of the Lord, consoling and comforting many. - Then, as he opened the door, he beheld the form of the maiden - Seated beside her wheel, and the carded wool like a snow-drift - Piled at her knee, her white hands feeding the ravenous spindle, - While with her foot on the treadle she guided the wheel in its motion. - Open wide on her lap lay the well-worn psalm-book of Ainsworth, - Printed in Amsterdam, the words and the music together, - Rough-hewn, angular notes, like stones in the wall of a churchyard, - Darkened and overhung by the running vine of the verses. - Such was the book from whose pages she sang the old Puritan anthem, - She, the Puritan girl, in the solitude of the forest, - Making the humble house and the modest apparel of home-spun - Beautiful with her beauty, and rich with the wealth of her being! - Over him rushed, like a wind that is keen and cold and relentless, - Thoughts of what might have been, and the weight and woe of his errand; - All the dreams that had faded, and all the hopes that had vanished, - All his life henceforth a dreary and tenantless mansion, - Haunted by vain regrets, and pallid, sorrowful faces. - Still he said to himself, and almost fiercely he said it, - “Let not him that putteth his hand to the plow look backwards; - Though the plowshare cut through the flowers of life to its fountains, - Though it pass o’er the graves of the dead and the hearts of the living, - It is the will of the Lord; and his mercy endureth forever!” - - So he entered the house; and the hum of the wheel and the singing - Suddenly ceased; for Priscilla, aroused by his step on the threshold, - Rose as he entered, and gave him her hand, in signal of welcome, - Saying, “I knew it was you, when I heard your step in the passage; - For I was thinking of you, as I sat there singing and spinning.” - Awkward and dumb with delight, that a thought of him had been mingled - Thus in the sacred psalm, that came from the heart of the maiden, - Silent before her he stood, and gave her the flowers for an answer, - Finding no words for his thought. He remembered that day in the winter, - After the first great snow, when he broke a path from the village, - Reeling and plunging along through the drifts that encumbered the - doorway, - Stamping the snow from his feet as he entered the house, and Priscilla - Laughed at his snowy locks, and gave him a seat by the fireside, - Grateful and pleased to know he had thought of her in the snowstorm. - Had he but spoken then! perhaps not in vain had he spoken; - Now it was all too late; the golden moment had vanished! - So he stood there abashed, and gave her the flowers for an answer. - - Then they sat down and talked of the birds and the beautiful - Springtime, - Talked of their friends at home, and the May Flower that sailed on - the morrow. - “I have been thinking all day,” said gently the Puritan maiden, - “Dreaming all night, and thinking all day, of the hedge-rows of England— - They are in blossom now, and the country is all like a garden; - Thinking of lanes and fields, and the song of the lark and the linnet, - Seeing the village street, and familiar faces of neighbors - Going about as of old, and stopping to gossip together, - And, at the end of the street, the village church, with the ivy - Climbing the old gray tower, and the quiet graves in the churchyard. - Kind are the people I live with, and dear to me my religion; - Still my heart is so sad, that I wish myself back in Old England. - You will say it is wrong, but I cannot help it; I almost - Wish myself back in Old England, I feel so lonely and wretched.” - - Thereupon answered the youth:—“Indeed I do not condemn you; - Stouter hearts than a woman’s have quailed in this terrible winter. - Yours is tender and trusting, and needs a stronger to lean on; - So I have come to you now, with an offer and proffer of marriage - Made by a good man and true, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth!” - - Thus he delivered his message, the dexterous writer of letters— - Did not embellish the theme, nor array it in beautiful phrases, - But came straight to the point, and blurted it out like a schoolboy; - Even the Captain himself could hardly have said it more bluntly. - Mute with amazement and sorrow, Priscilla the Puritan maiden - Looked into Alden’s face, her eyes dilated with wonder, - Feeling his words like a blow, that stunned her and rendered her - speechless; - Till at length she exclaimed, interrupting the ominous silence: - “If the great Captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed me, - Why does he not come himself, and take the trouble to woo me? - If I am not worth the wooing, I surely am not worth the winning!” - Then John Alden began explaining and smoothing the matter, - Making it worse as he went, by saying the Captain was busy - Had no time for such things;—such things! the words grating harshly - Fell on the ear of Priscilla; and swift as a flash she made answer: - “Has he no time for such things, as you call it, before he is married, - Would he be likely to find it, or make it, after the wedding? - That is the way with you men; you don’t understand us, you cannot. - When you have made up your minds, after thinking of this one and - that one, - Choosing, selecting, rejecting, comparing one with another, - Then you make known your desire, with abrupt and sudden avowal, - And are offended and hurt, and indignant perhaps, that a woman - Does not respond at once to a love that she never suspected, - Does not attain at a bound the height to which you have been climbing. - This is not right nor just; for surely a woman’s affection - Is not a thing to be asked for, and had for only the asking. - When one is truly in love, one not only says it, but shows it. - Had he but waited awhile, had he only showed that he loved me, - Even this Captain of yours—who knows?—at last might have won me, - Old and rough as he is; but now it never can happen.” - - Still John Alden went on, unheeding the words of Priscilla, - Urging the suit of his friend, explaining, persuading, expanding; - Spoke of his courage and skill, and of all his battles in Flanders, - How with the people of God he had chosen to suffer affliction, - How, in return for his zeal, they had made him Captain of Plymouth; - He was a gentleman born, could trace his pedigree plainly - Back to Hugh Standish of Duxbury Hall, in Lancashire, England, - Who was the son of Ralph, and the grandson of Thurston de Standish; - Heir unto vast estates, of which he was basely defrauded, - Still bore the family arms, and had for his crest a cock argent - Combed and wattled gules, and all the rest of the blazon. - He was a man of honor, of noble and generous nature; - Though he was rough, he was kindly; she knew how during the winter - He had attended the sick, with a hand as gentle as woman’s; - Somewhat hasty and hot, he could not deny it, and headstrong, - Stern as a soldier might be, but hearty, and placable always, - Not to be laughed at and scorned, because he was little of stature; - For he was great of heart, magnanimous, courtly, courageous; - Any woman in Plymouth, nay any woman in England, - Might be happy and proud to be called the wife of Miles Standish! - - But as he warmed and glowed, in his simple and eloquent language, - Quite forgetful of self, and full of the praise of his rival, - Archly the maiden smiled, and, with eyes overrunning with laughter, - Said, in a tremulous voice, “Why don’t you speak for yourself, John?” - -JOHN ALDEN - - Into the open air John Alden, perplexed and bewildered, - Rushed like a man insane, and wandered alone by the seaside; - Paced up and down the sands, and bared his head to the east wind, - Cooling his heated brow, and the fire and fever within him. - Slowly as out of the heavens, with apocalyptical splendors, - Sank the City of God, in the vision of John the Apostle, - So, with its cloudy walls of chrysolite, jasper, and sapphire, - Sank the broad red sun, and over its turrets uplifted - Glimmered the golden reed of the angel who measured the city. - - “Welcome, O wind of the East!” he exclaimed in his wild exultation, - “Welcome, O wind of the East, from the caves of the misty Atlantic! - Blowing o’er fields of dulse, and measureless meadows of sea-grass, - Blowing o’er rocky wastes, and the grottoes and gardens of ocean! - Lay thy cold, moist hand on my burning forehead, and wrap me - Close in thy garments of mist, to allay the fever within me!” - - Like an awakened conscience, the sea was moaning and tossing, - Beating remorseful and loud the mutable sands of the seashore. - Fierce in his soul was the struggle and tumult of passions contending; - Love triumphant and crowned, and friendship wounded and bleeding, - Passionate cries of desire, and importunate pleadings of duty! - “Is it my fault,” he said, “that the maiden has chosen between us? - Is it my fault that he failed—my fault that I am the victor?” - Then within him there thundered a voice, like the voice of the Prophet: - “It hath displeased the Lord!”—and he thought of David’s transgression, - Bathsheba’s beautiful face, and his friend in the front of the battle! - Shame and confusion of guilt, and abasement and self-condemnation, - Overwhelmed him at once; and he cried in the deepest contrition: - “It hath displeased the Lord! It is the temptation of Satan!” - - Then, uplifting his head, he looked at the sea, and beheld there - Dimly the shadowy form of the May Flower riding at anchor, - Rocked on the rising tide, and ready to sail on the morrow; - Heard the voices of men through the mist, the rattle of cordage - Thrown on the deck, the shouts of the mate, and the sailors’ “Ay, ay, - sir!” - Clear and distinct, but not loud, in the dripping air of the twilight. - Still for a moment he stood, and listened, and stared at the vessel, - Then went hurriedly on, as one who, seeing a phantom, - Stops, then quickens his pace, and follows the beckoning shadow. - “Yes, it is plain to me now,” he murmured; “the hand of the Lord is - Leading me out of the land of darkness, the bondage of error, - Through the sea, that shall lift the walls of its waters around me, - Hiding me, cutting me off, from the cruel thoughts that pursue me. - Back will I go o’er the ocean, this dreary land will abandon, - Her whom I may not love, and him whom my heart has offended. - Better to be in my grave in the green old churchyard in England, - Close by my mother’s side, and among the dust of my kindred; - Better be dead and forgotten, than living in shame and dishonor! - Sacred and safe and unseen, in the dark of the narrow chamber - With me my secret shall lie, like a buried jewel that glimmers - Bright on the hand that is dust, in the chambers of silence and darkness— - Yes, as the marriage ring of the great espousal hereafter!” - - Thus as he spake, he turned, in the strength of his strong resolution, - Leaving behind him the shore, and hurried along in the twilight, - Through the congenial gloom of the forest silent and somber, - Till he beheld the lights in the seven houses of Plymouth, - Shining like seven stars in the dusk and mist of the evening. - Soon he entered his door, and found the redoubtable Captain - Sitting alone, and absorbed in the martial pages of Cæsar, - Fighting some great campaign in Hainault or Brabant or Flanders. - “Long have you been on your errand,” he said with a cheery demeanor, - Even as one who is waiting an answer, and fears not the issue. - “Not far off is the house, although the woods are between us; - But you have lingered so long, that while you were going and coming - I have fought ten battles and sacked and demolished a city. - Come, sit down, and in order relate to me all that has happened.” - - Then John Alden spake, and related the wondrous adventure, - From beginning to end, minutely, just as it happened; - How he had seen Priscilla, and how he had sped in his courtship, - Only smoothing a little, and softening down her refusal. - But when he came at length to the words Priscilla had spoken, - Words so tender and cruel: “Why don’t you speak for yourself, John?” - Up leaped the Captain of Plymouth, and stamped on the floor, till his - armor - Clanged on the wall, where it hung, with a sound of sinister omen. - All his pent-up wrath burst forth in a sudden explosion, - Even as a hand-grenade, that scatters destruction around it. - Wildly he shouted, and loud: “John Alden! you have betrayed me! - Me, Miles Standish, your friend! have supplanted, defrauded, betrayed me! - One of my ancestors ran his sword through the heart of Wat Tyler; - Who shall prevent me from running my own through the heart of a traitor? - Yours is the greater treason, for yours is a treason to friendship! - You, who lived under my roof, whom I cherished and loved as a brother; - You, who have fed at my board, and drunk at my cup, to whose keeping - I have intrusted my honor, my thoughts the most sacred and secret— - You too, Brutus! ah woe to the name of friendship hereafter! - Brutus was Cæsar’s friend, and you were mine, but henceforward - Let there be nothing between us save war, and implacable hatred!” - - So spake the Captain of Plymouth, and strode about in the chamber, - Chafing and choking with rage; like cords were the veins on his temples. - But in the midst of his anger a man appeared at the doorway, - Bringing in uttermost haste a message of urgent importance, - Rumors of danger and war and hostile incursions of Indians! - Straightway the Captain paused, and, without further question or parley, - Took from the nail on the wall his sword with its scabbard of iron, - Buckled the belt round his waist, and, frowning fiercely, departed. - Alden was left alone. He heard the clank of the scabbard - Growing fainter and fainter, and dying away in the distance. - Then he arose from his seat, and looked forth into the darkness, - Felt the cool air blow on his cheek, that was hot with the insult, - Lifted his eyes to the heavens, and, folding his hands as in childhood, - Prayed in the silence of night to the Father who seeth in secret. - - Meanwhile the choleric Captain strode wrathful away to the council, - Found it already assembled, impatiently waiting his coming; - Men in the middle of life, austere and grave in deportment, - Only one of them old, the hill that was nearest to heaven, - Covered with snow, but erect, the excellent Elder of Plymouth. - God had sifted three kingdoms to find the wheat for this planting, - Then had sifted the wheat, as the living seed of a nation; - So say the chronicles old, and such is the faith of the people! - Near them was standing an Indian, in attitude stern and defiant, - Naked down to the waist, and grim and ferocious in aspect; - While on the table before them was lying unopened a Bible, - Ponderous, bound in leather, brass-studded, printed in Holland, - And beside it outstretched the skin of a rattlesnake glittered, - Filled, like a quiver, with arrows; a signal and challenge of warfare, - Brought by the Indian, and speaking with arrowy tongues of defiance. - This Miles Standish beheld, as he entered, and heard them debating - What were an answer befitting the hostile message and menace, - Talking of this and that, contriving, suggesting, objecting; - One voice only for peace, and that the voice of the Elder, - Judging it wise and well that some at least were converted, - Rather than any were slain, for this was but Christian behavior! - Then outspoke Miles Standish, the stalwart Captain of Plymouth, - Muttering deep in his throat, for his voice was husky with anger: - “What! do you mean to make war with milk and the water of roses? - Is it to shoot red squirrels you have your howitzer planted - There on the roof of the church, or is it to shoot red devils? - Truly the only tongue that is understood by a savage - Must be the tongue of fire that speaks from the mouth of the cannon!” - Thereupon answered and said the excellent Elder of Plymouth, - Somewhat amazed and alarmed at this irreverent language: - “Not so thought St. Paul, nor yet the other Apostles; - Not from the cannon’s mouth were the tongues of fire they spake with!” - But unheeded fell this mild rebuke on the Captain, - Who had advanced to the table, and thus continued discoursing: - “Leave this matter to me, for to me by right it pertaineth. - War is a terrible trade; but in the cause that is righteous, - Sweet is the smell of powder; and thus I answer the challenge!” - - Then from the rattlesnake’s skin, with a sudden, contemptuous gesture, - Jerking the Indian arrows, he filled it with powder and bullets - Full to the very jaws, and handed it back to the savage, - Saying, in thundering tones: “Here, take it! this is your answer!” - Silently out of the room then glided the glistening savage, - Bearing the serpent’s skin, and seeming himself like a serpent, - Winding his sinuous way in the dark to the depths of the forest. - -THE SAILING OF THE MAY FLOWER - - Just in the gray of the dawn, as the mists uprose from the meadows, - There was a stir and a sound in the slumbering village of Plymouth; - Clanging and clicking of arms, and the order imperative, “Forward!” - Given in tone suppressed, a tramp of feet, and then silence. - Figures ten, in the mist, marched slowly out of the village. - Standish the stalwart it was, with eight of his valorous army, - Led by their Indian guide, by Hobomok, friend of the white men, - Northward marching to quell the sudden revolt of the savage. - Giants they seemed in the mist, or the mighty men of King David; - Giants in heart they were, who believed in God and the Bible— - Ay, who believed in the smiting of Midianites and Philistines. - Over them gleamed far off the crimson banners of morning; - Under them loud on the sands, the serried billows, advancing, - Fired along the line, and in regular order retreated. - Many a mile had they marched, when at length the village of Plymouth - Woke from its sleep, and arose, intent on its manifold labors. - Sweet was the air and soft, and slowly the smoke from the chimneys - Rose over roofs of thatch, and pointed steadily eastward; - Men came forth from the doors, and paused and talked of the weather, - Said that the wind had changed, and was blowing fair for the May Flower; - Talked of their Captain’s departure, and all the dangers that menaced, - He being gone, the town, and what should be done in his absence. - Merrily sang the birds, and the tender voices of women - Consecrated with hymns the common cares of the household. - Out of the sea rose the sun, and the billows rejoiced at his coming; - Beautiful were his feet on the purple tops of the mountains; - Beautiful on the sails of the May Flower riding at anchor, - Battered and blackened and worn by all the storms of the winter. - Loosely against her masts was hanging and flapping her canvas, - Rent by so many gales, and patched by the hands of the sailors. - Suddenly from her side, as the sun rose over the ocean, - Darted a puff of smoke, and floated seaward; anon rang - Loud over field and forest the cannon’s roar, and the echoes - Heard and repeated the sound, the signal-gun of departure! - Ah! but with louder echoes replied the hearts of the people! - Meekly, in voices subdued, the chapter was read from the Bible, - Meekly the prayer was begun, but ended in fervent entreaty! - Then from their houses in haste came forth the Pilgrims of Plymouth, - Men and women and children, all hurrying down to the seashore, - Eager, with tearful eyes, to say farewell to the May Flower, - Homeward bound o’er the sea, and leaving them here in the desert. - - Foremost among them was Alden. All night he had lain without slumber, - Turning and tossing about in the heat and unrest of his fever. - He had beheld Miles Standish, who came back late from the council, - Stalking into the room, and heard him mutter and murmur; - Sometimes it seemed a prayer, and sometimes it sounded like swearing. - Once he had come to the bed, and stood there a moment in silence; - Then he had turned away, and said: “I will not awake him; - Let him sleep on, it is best; for what is the use of more talking!” - Then he extinguished the light, and threw himself down on his pallet. - Dressed as he was, and ready to start at the break of the morning— - Covered himself with the cloak he had worn in his campaigns in Flanders— - Slept as a soldier sleeps in his bivouac, ready for action. - But with the dawn he arose; in the twilight Alden beheld him - Put on his corselet of steel, and all the rest of his armor, - Buckle about his waist his trusty blade of Damascus, - Take from the corner his musket, and so stride out of the chamber. - Often the heart of the youth had burned and yearned to embrace him, - Often his lips had essayed to speak, imploring for pardon, - All the old friendship came back, with its tender and grateful emotions. - But his pride overmastered the noble nature within him— - Pride, and the sense of his wrong, and the burning fire of the insult. - So he beheld his friend departing in anger, but spake not, - Saw him go forth to danger, perhaps to death, and he spake not! - Then he arose from his bed, and heard what the people were saying, - Joined in the talk at the door, with Stephen and Richard and Gilbert, - Joined in the morning prayer, and in the reading of Scripture, - And, with the others, in haste went hurrying down to the seashore, - Down to the Plymouth Rock, that had been to their feet as a doorstep - Into a world unknown—the corner-stone of a nation! - - There with his boat was the Master, already a little impatient - Lest he should lose the tide, or the wind might shift to the eastward, - Square-built, hearty, and strong, with an odor of ocean about him, - Speaking with this one and that, and cramming letters and parcels - Into his pockets capacious, and messages mingled together - Into his narrow brain, till at last he was wholly bewildered. - Nearer the boat stood Alden, with one foot placed on the gunwale, - One still firm on the rock, and talking at times with the sailors, - Seated erect on the thwarts, all ready and eager for starting. - He too was eager to go, and thus put an end to his anguish, - Thinking to fly from despair, that swifter than keel is or canvas, - Thinking to drown in the sea the ghost that would rise and pursue him. - But as he gazed on the crowd, he beheld the form of Priscilla - Standing dejected among them, unconscious of all that was passing. - Fixed were her eyes upon his, as if she divined his intention, - Fixed with a look so sad, so reproachful, imploring, and patient, - That with a sudden revulsion his heart recoiled from its purpose, - As from the verge of a crag, where one step more is destruction. - Strange is the heart of man, with its quick, mysterious instincts! - Strange is the life of man, and fatal or fated are moments, - Whereupon turn, as on hinges, the gates of the wall adamantine! - “Here I remain!” he exclaimed, as he looked at the heavens above him, - Thanking the Lord whose breath had scattered the mist and the madness, - Wherein, blind and lost, to death he was staggering headlong. - “Yonder snow-white cloud, that floats in the ether above me, - Seems like a hand that is pointing and beckoning over the ocean. - There is another hand, that is not so spectral and ghost-like, - Holding me, drawing me back, and clasping mine for protection. - Float, O hand of cloud, and vanish away in the ether! - Roll thyself up like a fist, to threaten and daunt me; I heed not - Either your warning or menace, or any omen of evil! - There is no land so sacred, nor air so pure and so wholesome, - As is the air she breathes, and the soil that is pressed by her - footsteps. - Here for her sake will I stay, and like an invisible presence - Hover around her forever, protecting, supporting her weakness; - Yes! as my foot was the first that stepped on this rock at the landing, - So, with the blessing of God, shall it be the last at the leaving!” - - Meanwhile the Master alert, but with dignified air and important, - Scanning with watchful eye the tide and the wind and the weather, - Walked about on the sands; and the people crowded around him - Saying a few last words, and enforcing his careful remembrance. - Then, taking each by the hand, as if he were grasping a tiller, - Into the boat he sprang, and in haste shoved off to his vessel, - Glad in his heart to get rid of all this worry and flurry, - Glad to be gone from a land of sand and sickness and sorrow, - Short allowance of victual, and plenty of nothing but Gospel! - Lost in the sound of the oars was the last farewell of the Pilgrims. - O strong hearts and true! not one went back in the May Flower! - No, not one looked back, who had set his hand to this plowing! - - Soon were heard on board the shouts and songs of the sailors - Heaving the windlass round, and hoisting the ponderous anchor. - Then the yards were braced, and all sails set to the west-wind, - Blowing steady and strong; and the May Flower sailed from the harbor, - Rounded the point of the Gurnet, and leaving far to the southward - Island and cape of sand, and the Field of the First Encounter, - Took the wind on her quarter, and stood for the open Atlantic, - Borne on the send of the sea, and the swelling hearts of the Pilgrims. - - Long in silence they watched the receding sail of the vessel, - Much endeared to them all, as something living and human; - Then, as if filled with the spirit, and wrapt in a vision prophetic, - Baring his hoary head, the excellent Elder of Plymouth - Said, “Let us pray!” and they prayed and thanked the Lord and took - courage. - Mournfully sobbed the waves at the base of the rock, and above them - Bowed and whispered the wheat on the hill of death, and their kindred - Seemed to awake in their graves, and to join in the prayer that they - uttered. - Sun-illumined and white, on the eastern verge of the ocean - Gleamed the departing sail, like a marble slab in a graveyard; - Buried beneath it lay forever all hope of escaping. - Lo! as they turned to depart, they saw the form of an Indian, - Watching them from the hill; but while they spake with each other, - Pointing with outstretched hands, and saying, “Look!” he had vanished. - So they returned to their homes; but Alden lingered a little, - Musing alone on the shore, and watching the wash of the billows - Round the base of the rock, and the sparkle and flash of the sunshine, - Like the spirit of God, moving visibly over the waters. - -PRISCILLA - - Thus for a while he stood, and mused by the shore of the ocean, - Thinking of many things, and most of all of Priscilla; - And as if thought had the power to draw to itself, like the load-stone, - Whatsoever it touches, by subtle laws of its nature, - Lo! as he turned to depart, Priscilla was standing beside him. - - “Are you so much offended you will not speak to me?” said she. - “Am I so much to blame, that yesterday, when you were pleading - Warmly the cause of another, my heart, impulsive and wayward, - Pleaded your own, and spake out, forgetful perhaps of decorum? - Certainly you can forgive me for speaking so frankly, for saying - What I ought not to have said, yet now I can never unsay it; - For there are moments in life, when the heart is so full of emotion, - That if by chance it be shaken, or into its depths like a pebble - Drops some careless word, it overflows, and its secret, - Spilt on the ground like water, can never be gathered together. - Yesterday I was shocked, when I heard you speak of Miles Standish, - Praising his virtues, transforming his very defects into virtues, - Praising his courage and strength, and even his fighting in Flanders, - As if by fighting alone you could win the heart of a woman, - Quite overlooking yourself and the rest, in exalting your hero. - Therefore I spake as I did, by an irresistible impulse. - You will forgive me, I hope, for the sake of the friendship between us, - Which is too true and too sacred to be so easily broken!” - Thereupon answered John Alden, the scholar, the friend of Miles Standish: - “I was not angry with you, with myself alone I was angry, - Seeing how badly I managed the matter I had in my keeping.” - “No!” interrupted the maiden, with answer prompt and decisive; - “No; you are angry with me, for speaking so frankly and freely. - It was wrong, I acknowledge; for it is the fate of a woman - Long to be patient and silent, to wait like a ghost that is speechless, - Till some questioning voice dissolves the spell of its silence. - Hence is the inner life of so many suffering women - Sunless and silent and deep, like subterranean rivers - Running through caverns of darkness, unheard, unseen, and unfruitful, - Chafing their channels of stone, with endless and profitless murmurs.” - Thereupon answered John Alden, the young man, the lover of women: - “Heaven forbid it, Priscilla; and truly they seem to me always - More like the beautiful rivers that watered the garden of Eden. - More like the river Euphrates, through deserts of Havilah flowing, - Filling the land with delight, and memories sweet of the garden!” - “Ah, by these words, I can see,” again interrupted the maiden, - “How very little you prize me, or care for what I am saying. - When from the depths of my heart, in pain and with secret misgiving, - Frankly I speak to you, asking for sympathy only and kindness, - Straightway you take up my words, that are plain and direct and in - earnest, - Turn them away from their meaning, and answer with flattering phrases. - This is not right, is not just, is not true to the best that is in you; - For I know and esteem you, and feel that your nature is noble, - Lifting mine up to a higher, a more ethereal level. - Therefore I value your friendship, and feel it perhaps the more keenly - If you say aught that implies I am only as one among many, - If you make use of those common and complimentary phrases - Most men think so fine, in dealing and speaking with women, - But which women reject as insipid, if not as insulting.” - - Mute and amazed was Alden; and listened and looked at Priscilla, - Thinking he never had seen her more fair, more divine in her beauty. - He who but yesterday pleaded so glibly the cause of another, - Stood there embarrassed and silent, and seeking in vain for an answer. - So the maiden went on, and little divined or imagined - What was at work in his heart, that made him so awkward and speechless. - “Let us, then, be what we are, and speak what we think, and in all things - Keep ourselves loyal to truth, and the sacred professions of friendship. - It is no secret I tell you, nor am I ashamed to declare it: - I have liked to be with you, to see you, to speak with you always. - So I was hurt at your words, and a little affronted to hear you - Urge me to marry your friend, though he were the Captain Miles Standish. - For I must tell you the truth: much more to me is your friendship - Than all the love he could give, were he twice the hero you think him.” - Then she extended her hand, and Alden, who eagerly grasped it, - Felt all the wounds in his heart, that were aching and bleeding so - sorely, - Healed by the touch of that hand, and he said, with a voice full of - feeling: - “Yes, we must ever be friends; and of all who offer you friendship - Let me be ever the first, the truest, the nearest and dearest!” - - Casting a farewell look at the glimmering sail of the May Flower, - Distant, but still in sight, and sinking below the horizon, - Homeward together they walked, with a strange, indefinite feeling, - That all the rest had departed and left them alone in the desert. - But, as they went through the fields in the blessing and smile of the - sunshine, - Lighter grew their hearts, and Priscilla said very archly: - “Now that our terrible Captain has gone in pursuit of the Indians, - Where he is happier far than he would be commanding a household, - You may speak boldly, and tell me of all that happened between you, - When you returned last night, and said how ungrateful you found me.” - Thereupon answered John Alden, and told her the whole of the story— - Told her his own despair, and the direful wrath of Miles Standish. - Whereat the maiden smiled, and said between laughing and earnest, - “He is a little chimney, and heated hot in a moment!” - But as he gently rebuked her, and told her how much he had suffered— - How he had even determined to sail that day in the May Flower, - And had remained for her sake, on hearing the dangers that threatened— - All her manner was changed, and she said with a faltering accent, - “Truly I thank you for this; how good you have been to me always!” - - Thus, as a pilgrim devout, who toward Jerusalem journeys, - Taking three steps in advance, and one reluctantly backward, - Urged by importunate zeal, and withheld by pangs of contrition; - Slowly but steadily onward, receding yet ever advancing, - Journeyed this Puritan youth to the Holy Land of his longings, - Urged by the fervor of love, and withheld by remorseful misgivings. - -THE MARCH OF MILES STANDISH - - Meanwhile the stalwart Miles Standish was marching steadily northward, - Winding through forest and swamp, and along the trend of the seashore, - All day long, with hardly a halt, the fire of his anger - Burning and crackling within, and the sulphurous odor of powder - Seeming more sweet to his nostrils than all the scents of the forest. - Silent and moody he went, and much he revolved his discomfort; - He who was used to success, and to easy victories always, - Thus to be flouted, rejected, and laughed to scorn by a maiden, - Thus to be mocked and betrayed by the friend whom most he had trusted! - Ah! ’twas too much to be borne, and he fretted and chafed in his armor! - - “I alone am to blame,” he muttered, “for mine was the folly. - What has a rough old soldier, grown grim and gray in the harness, - Used to the camp and its ways, to do with the wooing of maidens? - ’Twas but a dream—let it pass—let it vanish like so many others! - What I thought was a flower, is only a weed, and is worthless; - Out of my heart will I pluck it, and throw it away, and henceforward - Be but a fighter of battles, a lover and wooer of dangers!” - Thus he revolved in his mind his sorry defeat and discomfort, - While he was marching by day or lying at night in the forest, - Looking up at the trees, and the constellations beyond them. - - After a three days’ march he came to an Indian encampment - Pitched on the edge of a meadow, between the sea and the forest; - Women at work by the tents, and the warriors, horrid with war-paint, - Seated about a fire, and smoking and talking together; - Who, when they saw from afar the sudden approach of the white men, - Saw the flash of the sun on breast-plate and saber and musket, - Straightway leaped to their feet, and two, from among them advancing, - Came to parley with Standish, and offer him furs as a present; - Friendship was in their looks, but in their hearts there was hatred. - Braves of the tribe were these, and brothers gigantic in stature, - Huge as Goliath of Gath, or the terrible Og, king of Bashan; - One was Pecksuot named, and the other was called Wattawamat. - Round their necks were suspended their knives in scabbards of wampum, - Two-edged, trenchant knives, with points as sharp as a needle. - Other arms had they none, for they were cunning and crafty. - “Welcome, English!” they said—these words they had learned from the - traders - Touching at times on the coast, to barter and chaffer for peltries. - Then in their native tongue they began to parley with Standish, - Through his guide and interpreter, Hobomok, friend of the white man, - Begging for blankets and knives, but mostly for muskets and powder, - Kept by the white man, they said, concealed, with the plague, in his - cellars, - Ready to be let loose, and destroy his brother the red man! - But when Standish refused, and said he would give them the Bible, - Suddenly changing their tone, they began to boast and to bluster. - Then Wattawamat advanced with a stride in front of the other, - And, with a lofty demeanor, thus vauntingly spake to the Captain: - “Now Wattawamat can see, by the fiery eyes of the Captain, - Angry is he in his heart; but the heart of the brave Wattawamat - Is not afraid at the sight. He was not born of a woman, - But on a mountain, at night, from an oak-tree riven by lightning, - Forth he sprang at a bound, with all his weapons about him, - Shouting, ‘Who is there here to fight with the brave Wattawamat?’” - Then he unsheathed his knife, and, whetting the blade on his left hand, - Held it aloft and displayed a woman’s face on the handle, - Saying, with bitter expression and look of sinister meaning: - “I have another at home, with the face of a man on the handle; - By and by they shall marry; and there will be plenty of children!” - - Then stood Pecksuot forth, self-vaunting, insulting Miles Standish; - While with his fingers he patted the knife that hung at his bosom, - Drawing it half from its sheath, and plunging it back, as he muttered: - “By and by it shall see; it shall eat; ah, ha! but shall speak not! - This is the mighty Captain the white men have sent to destroy us! - He is a little man; let him go and work with the women!” - - Meanwhile Standish had noted the faces and figures of Indians - Peeping and creeping about from bush to tree in the forest, - Feigning to look for game, with arrows set on their bow-strings, - Drawing about him still closer and closer the net of their ambush. - But undaunted he stood, and dissembled and treated them smoothly; - So the old chronicles say, that were writ in the days of the fathers. - But when he heard their defiance, the boast, the taunt, and the insult, - All the hot blood of his race, of Sir Hugh and of Thurston de Standish, - Boiled and beat in his heart, and swelled in the veins of his temples. - Headlong he leaped on the boaster, and, snatching his knife from its - scabbard, - Plunged it into his heart, and, reeling backward, the savage - Fell with his face to the sky, and a fiendlike fierceness upon it. - Straight there arose from the forest the awful sound of the war-whoop, - And, like a flurry of snow on the whistling wind of December, - Swift and sudden and keen came a flight of feathery arrows. - Then came a cloud of smoke, and out of the cloud came the lightning, - Out of the lightning thunder; and death unseen ran before it. - Frightened, the savages fled for shelter in swamp and in thicket. - Hotly pursued and beset; but their sachem, the brave Wattawamat, - Fled not; he was dead. Unswerving and swift had a bullet - Passed through his brain, and he fell with both hands clutching the - greensward, - Seeming in death to hold back from his foe the land of his fathers. - - There on the flowers of the meadow the warriors lay, and above them, - Silent, with folded arms, stood Hobomok, friend of the white man. - Smiling at length, he exclaimed to the stalwart Captain of Plymouth: - “Pecksuot bragged very loud, of his courage, his strength, and his - stature— - Mocked the great Captain, and called him a little man; but I see now - Big enough have you been to lay him speechless before you!” - - Thus the first battle was fought and won by the stalwart Miles - Standish. - When the tidings thereof were brought to the village of Plymouth, - And as a trophy of war the head of the brave Wattawamat - Scowled from the roof of the fort, which at once was a church and a - fortress, - All who beheld it rejoiced, and praised the Lord, and took courage. - Only Priscilla averted her face from this specter of terror. - Thanking God in her heart that she had not married Miles Standish; - Shrinking, fearing almost, lest, coming home from his battles, - He should lay claim to her hand, as the prize and reward of his valor. - -THE SPINNING-WHEEL - - Month after month passed away, and in autumn the ships of the merchants - Came with kindred and friends, with cattle and corn for the Pilgrims. - All in the village was peace; the men were intent on their labors, - Busy with hewing and building, with garden-plot and with merestead, - Busy with breaking the glebe, and mowing the grass in the meadows, - Searching the sea for its fish, and hunting the deer in the forest. - All in the village was peace; but at times the rumor of warfare - Filled the air with alarm, and the apprehension of danger. - Bravely the stalwart Miles Standish was scouring the land with his - forces, - Waxing valiant in fight and defeating the alien armies, - Till his name had become a sound of fear to the nations. - Anger was still in his heart, but at times the remorse and contrition - Which in all noble natures succeed the passionate outbreak, - Came like a rising tide, that encounters the rush of a river, - Staying its current awhile, but making it bitter and brackish. - - Meanwhile Alden at home had built him a new habitation. - Solid, substantial, of timber roughhewn from the firs of the forest. - Wooden-barred was the door, and the roof was covered with rushes; - Latticed the windows were, and the window-panes were of paper, - Oiled to admit the light, while wind and rain were excluded. - There too he dug a well, and around it planted an orchard; - Still may be seen to this day some trace of the well and the orchard. - Close to the house was the stall, where, safe and secure from annoyance, - Raghorn, the snow-white bull, that had fallen to Alden’s allotment - In the division of cattle, might ruminate in the night-time - Over the pastures he cropped, made fragrant by sweet penny-royal. - - Oft when his labor was finished, with eager feet would the dreamer - Follow the pathway that ran through the woods to the house of Priscilla, - Led by illusions romantic and subtle deceptions of fancy, - Pleasure disguised as duty, and love in the semblance of friendship. - Ever of her he thought, when he fashioned the walls of his dwelling; - Ever of her he thought, when he delved in the soil of his garden; - Ever of her he thought, when he read in his Bible on Sunday - Praise of the virtuous woman, as she is described in the Proverbs— - How the heart of her husband doth safely trust in her always, - How all the days of her life she will do him good, and not evil, - How she seeketh the wool and the flax and worketh with gladness, - How she layeth her hand to the spindle and holdeth the distaff, - How she is not afraid of the snow for herself or her household, - Knowing her household are clothed with the scarlet cloth of her weaving! - - So as she sat at her wheel one afternoon in the Autumn, - Alden, who opposite sat, and was watching her dexterous fingers, - As if the thread she was spinning were that of his life and his fortune, - After a pause in their talk, thus spake to the sound of the spindle. - “Truly, Priscilla,” he said, “when I see you spinning and spinning, - Never idle a moment, but thrifty and thoughtful of others, - Suddenly you are transformed, are visibly changed in a moment; - You are no longer Priscilla, but Bertha the Beautiful Spinner.” - Here the light foot on the treadle grew swifter and swifter; the spindle - Uttered an angry snarl, and the thread snapped short in her fingers; - While the impetuous speaker, not heeding the mischief, continued: - “You are the beautiful Bertha, the spinner, the queen of Helvetia; - She whose story I read at a stall in the streets of Southampton, - Who, as she rode on her palfrey, o’er valley and meadow and mountain, - Ever was spinning her thread from a distaff fixed to her saddle. - She was so thrifty and good that her name passed into a proverb. - So shall it be with your own, when the spinning-wheel shall no longer - Hum in the house of the farmer, and fill its chambers with music. - Then shall the mothers, reproving, relate how it was in their childhood, - Praising the good old times, and the days of Priscilla the spinner!” - Straight uprose from her wheel the beautiful Puritan maiden, - Pleased with the praise of her thrift from him whose praise was the - sweetest, - Drew from the reel on the table a snowy skein of her spinning, - Thus making answer, meanwhile, to the flattering phrases of Alden: - “Come, you must not be idle; if I am a pattern for housewives, - Show yourself equally worthy of being the model of husbands. - Hold this skein on your hands, while I wind it, ready for knitting; - Then who knows but hereafter, when fashions have changed and the manners, - Fathers may talk to their sons of the good old times of John Alden!” - Thus, with a jest and a laugh, the skein on his hands she adjusted, - He sitting awkwardly there, with his arms extended before him, - She standing graceful, erect, and winding the thread from his fingers, - Sometimes chiding a little his clumsy manner of holding, - Sometimes touching his hands, as she disentangled expertly - Twist or knot in the yarn, unawares—for how could she help it?— - Sending electrical thrills through every nerve in his body. - - Lo! in the midst of this scene, a breathless messenger entered, - Bringing in hurry and heat the terrible news from the village. - Yes; Miles Standish was dead!—an Indian had brought them the tidings— - Slain by a poisoned arrow, shot down in the front of the battle, - Into an ambush beguiled, cut off with the whole of his forces; - All the town would be burned, and all the people be murdered! - Such were the tidings of evil that burst on the hearts of the hearers. - Silent and statue-like stood Priscilla, her face looking backward - Still at the face of the speaker, her arms uplifted in horror; - But John Alden, upstarting, as if the barb of the arrow - Piercing the heart of his friend had struck his own, and had sundered - Once and forever the bonds that held him bound as a captive, - Wild with excess of sensation, the awful delight of his freedom, - Mingled with pain and regret, unconscious of what he was doing. - Clasped, almost with a groan, the motionless form of Priscilla, - Pressing her close to his heart, as forever his own, and exclaiming: - “Those whom the Lord hath united, let no man put them asunder!” - - Even as rivulets twain, from distant and separate sources, - Seeing each other afar, as they leap from the rocks, and pursuing - Each one its devious path, but drawing nearer and nearer, - Rush together at last, at their trysting-place in the forest; - So these lives that had run thus far in separate channels, - Coming in sight of each other, then swerving and flowing asunder, - Parted by barriers strong, but drawing nearer and nearer, - Rushed together at last, and one was lost in the other. - -THE WEDDING DAY - - Forth from the curtain of clouds, from the tent of purple and scarlet, - Issued the sun, the great High-Priest, in his garments resplendent, - Holiness unto the Lord, in letters of light, on his forehead, - Round the hem of his robe the golden bells and pomegranates. - Blessing the world he came, and the bars of vapor beneath him - Gleamed like a grate of brass, and the sea at his feet was a laver! - - This was the wedding morn of Priscilla the Puritan maiden. - Friends were assembled together; the Elder and Magistrate also - Graced the scene with their presence, and stood like the Law and the - Gospel, - One with the sanction of earth and one with the blessing of heaven. - Simple and brief was the wedding, as that of Ruth and of Boaz. - Softly the youth and the maiden repeated the words of betrothal, - Taking each other for husband and wife in the Magistrate’s presence, - After the Puritan way, and the laudable custom of Holland. - Fervently then, and devoutly, the excellent Elder of Plymouth - Prayed for the hearth and the home, that were founded that day in - affection, - Speaking of life and of death, and imploring divine benedictions. - - Lo! when the service was ended, a form appeared on the threshold, - Clad in armor of steel, a somber and sorrowful figure! - Why does the bridegroom start and stare at the strange apparition? - Why does the bride turn pale, and hide her face on his shoulder? - Is it a phantom of air—a bodiless spectral illusion? - Is it a ghost from the grave, that has come to forbid the betrothal? - Long had it stood there unseen, a guest uninvited, unwelcomed; - Over its clouded eyes there had passed at times an expression - Softening the gloom and revealing the warm heart hidden beneath them, - As when across the sky the driving rack of the rain-cloud - Grows for a moment thin, and betrays the sun by its brightness. - Once it had lifted its hand, and moved its lips, but was silent, - As if an iron will had mastered the fleeting intention. - But when were ended the troth and the prayer and the last benediction, - Into the room it strode, and the people beheld with amazement - Bodily there in his armor Miles Standish, the Captain of Plymouth! - Grasping the bridegroom’s hand, he said with emotion, “Forgive me! - I have been angry and hurt—too long have I cherished the feeling; - I have been cruel and hard, but now, thank God! it is ended. - Mine is the same hot blood that leaped in the veins of Hugh Standish, - Sensitive, swift to resent, but as swift in atoning for error. - Never so much as now was Miles Standish the friend of John Alden.” - Thereupon answered the bridegroom: “Let all be forgotten between us— - All save the dear old friendship, and that shall grow older and dearer!” - Then the Captain advanced, and, bowing, saluted Priscilla, - Gravely, and after the manner of old-fashioned gentry in England, - Something of camp and of court, of town and of country, commingled, - Wishing her joy of her wedding, and loudly lauding her husband. - Then he said with a smile: “I should have remembered the adage— - If you would be well served, you must serve yourself; and moreover, - No man can gather cherries in Kent at the season of Christmas!” - - Great was the people’s amazement, and greater yet their rejoicing, - Thus to behold once more the sunburnt face of their Captain, - Whom they had mourned as dead; and they gathered and crowded about him, - Eager to see him and hear him, forgetful of bride and of bridegroom, - Questioning, answering, laughing, and each interrupting the other, - Till the good Captain declared, being quite overpowered and bewildered, - He had rather by far break into an Indian encampment, - Than come again to a wedding to which he had not been invited. - - Meanwhile the bridegroom went forth and stood with the bride at the - doorway, - Breathing the perfumed air of that warm and beautiful morning. - Touched with autumnal tints, but lonely and sad in the sunshine, - Lay extended before them the land of toil and privation; - There were the graves of the dead, and the barren waste of the seashore, - There the familiar fields, the groves of pine, and the meadows; - But to their eyes transfigured, it seemed as the Garden of Eden, - Filled with the presence of God, whose voice was the sound of the ocean. - - Soon was their vision disturbed by the noise and stir of departure, - Friends coming forth from the house, and impatient of longer delaying, - Each with his plan for the day, and the work that was left uncompleted. - Then from a stall near at hand, amid exclamations of wonder, - Alden the thoughtful, the careful, so happy, so proud of Priscilla, - Brought out his snow-white bull, obeying the hand of its master, - Led by a cord that was tied to an iron ring in its nostrils, - Covered with crimson cloth, and a cushion placed for a saddle. - She should not walk, he said, through the dust and heat of the noon-day; - Nay, she should ride like a queen, not plod along like a peasant. - Somewhat alarmed at first, but reassured by the others, - Placing her hand on the cushion, her foot in the hand of her husband, - Gayly, with joyous laugh, Priscilla mounted her palfrey. - “Nothing is wanting now,” he said, with a smile, “but the distaff; - Then you would be in truth my queen, my beautiful Bertha!” - - Onward the bridal procession now moved to their new habitation, - Happy husband and wife, and friends conversing together. - Pleasantly murmured the brook, as they crossed the ford in the forest, - Pleased with the image that passed, like a dream of love through its - bosom, - Tremulous, floating in air, o’er the depths of the azure abysses. - Down through the golden leaves the sun was pouring his splendors, - Gleaming on purple grapes, that, from branches above them suspended, - Mingled their odorous breath with the balm of the pine and the fir-tree, - Wild and sweet as the clusters that grew in the valley of Eshcol. - Like a picture it seemed of the primitive pastoral ages, - Fresh with the youth of the world, and recalling Rebecca and Isaac, - Old and yet ever new, and simple and beautiful always, - Love immortal and young in the endless succession of lovers. - So through the Plymouth woods passed onward the bridal procession. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 80. - - =Discussion.= 1. Read the history of the Pilgrims’ settlement - at Plymouth. 2. Describe the Plymouth of the first year of the - settlement. 3. How long had the Pilgrims been in their new home at - the time this story opens? 4. What tells you this? 5. Find lines - that tell how hard the first winter had been. 6. What tells you that - the Captain had read his Cæsar many times? 7. What principle of - conduct did he learn from Cæsar’s victories? 8. When did he entirely - disregard this principle? 9. What excuse did he give for not acting - upon it? 10. Read the words in which John Alden tells why he will - undertake the Captain’s errand. 11. What ideal of friendship had - he? 12. What do you think of Alden’s description of his friend’s - character? 13. Read the lines in which Priscilla shows her love of - truth and loyalty. 14. When does Miles Standish show himself most - noble? 15. Who is the real hero of this poem? 16. Commit to memory - lines which seem to you to express the moral truths and the high - ideals which the poem puts before us. 17. Make a brief outline of - the story. 18. Pronounce the following: athletic; sinews; memoirs; - taciturn; aerial; impious; capacious; stalwart; subtle; hearth. - - =Phrases= - - corselet of steel, 427, 8 - mystical Arabic sentence, 427, 9 - Spanish arcabucero, 428, 7 - Flemish morasses, 428, 9 - brazen howitzer, 428, 25 - irresistible logic, 428, 27 - belligerent Christians, 429, 27 - Iberian village, 430, 23 - grounding his musket, 431, 19 - culling his phrases, 431, 27 - taciturn stripling, 432, 23 - mask his dismay, 432, 25 - aerial cities, 433, 25 - misty phantoms, 434, 8 - swift retribution, 434, 14 - ravenous spindle, 435, 6 - embellish the theme, 437, 10 - dilated with wonder, 437, 14 - apocalyptical splendors, 439, 9 - fields of dulse, 439, 16 - mutable sands, 439, 21 - importunate pleadings, 439, 24 - rattle of cordage, 440, 11 - bondage of error, 440, 18 - congenial gloom, 441, 3 - sacked and demolished, 441, 13 - sound of sinister omen, 441, 22 - hand-grenade, 441, 24 - implacable hatred, 442, 7 - hostile incursions, 442, 12 - choleric Captain, 442, 22 - sinuous way, 444, 7 - serried billows, 444, 20 - dangers that menaced, 445, 1 - lose the tide, 446, 22 - on the thwarts, 447, 2 - divined his intention, 447, 8 - wall adamantine, 447, 14 - grasping a tiller, 448, 5 - heaving the windlass round, 448, 14 - yards were braced, 448, 15 - irresistible impulse, 450, 3 - subterranean rivers, 450, 15 - a more ethereal level, 451; 3 - sacred professions, 451, 16 - urged by importunate zeal, 452, 24 - withheld by remorseful misgivings, 453, 3 - to be flouted, 453, 11 - scabbards of wampum, 454, 11 - trenchant knives, 454, 12 - chaffer for peltries, 454, 15 - sinister meaning, 455, 5 - breaking the glebe, 457, 5 - apprehension of danger, 457, 8 - timber roughhewn, 457, 17 - Alden’s allotment, 457, 24 - led by illusions, 458, 5 - subtle deceptions of fancy, 458, 5 - into an ambush beguiled, 460, 7 - trysting-place, 460, 23 - sanction of earth, 461, 9 - a bodiless spectral illusion, 461, 21 - driving rack, 461, 26 - atoning for error, 462, 10 - azure abysses, 464, 9 - - - - -AMERICAN SCENES AND LEGENDS - -[Illustration] - - -MY VISIT TO NIAGARA - -NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE - -Never did a pilgrim approach Niagara with deeper enthusiasm than mine. -I had lingered away from it, and wandered to other scenes, because my -treasury of anticipated enjoyments, comprising all the wonders of the -world, had nothing else so magnificent, and I was loath to exchange the -pleasures of hope for those of memory so soon. At length the day came. -The stage-coach, with a Frenchman and myself on the back seat, had -already left Lewiston, and in less than an hour would set us down in -Manchester. I began to listen for the roar of the cataract, and trembled -with a sensation like dread, as the moment drew nigh, when its voice -of ages must roll, for the first time, on my ear. The French gentleman -stretched himself from the window, and expressed loud admiration, while, -by a sudden impulse, I threw myself back and closed my eyes. When the -scene shut in, I was glad to think, that for me the whole burst of -Niagara was yet in futurity. We rolled on, and entered the village of -Manchester, bordering on the falls. - -I am quite ashamed of myself here. Not that I ran like a madman to the -falls, and plunged into the thickest of the spray—never stopping to -breathe, till breathing was impossible; not that I committed this, -or any other suitable extravagance. On the contrary, I alighted with -perfect decency and composure, gave my cloak to the black waiter, pointed -out my baggage, and inquired, not the nearest way to the cataract, but -about the dinner-hour. The interval was spent in arranging my dress. -Within the last fifteen minutes, my mind had grown strangely benumbed, -and my spirits apathetic, with a slight depression, not decided enough -to be termed sadness. My enthusiasm was in a deathlike slumber. Without -aspiring to immortality, as he did, I could have imitated that English -traveler who turned back from the point where he first heard the thunder -of Niagara, after crossing the ocean to behold it. Many a Western trader, -by the by, has performed a similar act of heroism with more heroic -simplicity, deeming it no such wonderful feat to dine at the hotel and -resume his route to Buffalo or Lewiston, while the cataract was roaring -unseen. - -Such has often been my apathy, when objects, long sought, and earnestly -desired, were placed within my reach. After dinner—at which an unwonted -and perverse epicurism detained me longer than usual—I lighted a cigar -and paced the piazza, minutely attentive to the aspect and business of -a very ordinary village. Finally, with reluctant step, and the feeling -of an intruder, I walked toward Goat Island. At the toll-house, there -were further excuses for delaying the inevitable moment. My signature -was required in a huge ledger, containing similar records innumerable, -many of which I read. The skin of a great sturgeon, and other fishes, -beasts, and reptiles; a collection of minerals, such as lie in heaps near -the falls; some Indian moccasins, and other trifles, made of deer-skin -and embroidered with beads; several newspapers, from Montreal, New York, -and Boston—all attracted me in turn. Out of a number of twisted sticks, -the manufacture of a Tuscarora Indian, I selected one of curled maple, -curiously convoluted, and adorned with the carved images of a snake and -a fish. Using this as my pilgrim’s staff, I crossed the bridge. Above -and below me were the rapids, a river of impetuous snow, with here and -there a dark rock amid its whiteness, resisting all the physical fury, as -any cold spirit did the moral influences of the scene. On reaching Goat -Island, which separates the two great segments of the falls, I chose the -right-hand path, and followed it to the edge of the American cascade. -There, while the falling sheet was yet invisible, I saw the vapor that -never vanishes, and the Eternal Rainbow of Niagara. - -It was an afternoon of glorious sunshine, without a cloud, save those -of the cataracts. I gained an insulated rock, and beheld a broad sheet -of brilliant and unbroken foam, not shooting in a curved line from the -top of the precipice, but falling headlong down from height to depth. A -narrow stream diverged from the main branch, and hurried over the crag -by a channel of its own, leaving a little pine-clad island and a streak -of precipice between itself and the larger sheet. Below arose the mist, -on which was painted a dazzling sunbow with two concentric shadows—one, -almost as perfect as the original brightness; and the other, drawn -faintly round the broken edge of the cloud. - -Still I had not half seen Niagara. Following the verge of the island, the -path led me to the Horseshoe, where the real, broad St. Lawrence, rushing -along on a level with its banks, pours its whole breadth over a concave -line of precipice, and thence pursues its course between lofty crags -toward Ontario. A sort of bridge, two or three feet wide, stretches out -along the edge of the descending sheet, and hangs upon the rising mist, -as if that were the foundation of the frail structure. Here I stationed -myself in the blast of wind, which the rushing river bore along with it. -The bridge was tremulous beneath me, and marked the tremor of the solid -earth. I looked along the whitening rapids, and endeavored to distinguish -a mass of water far above the falls, to follow it to their verge, and go -down with it, in fancy, to the abyss of clouds and storm. Casting my eyes -across the river, and every side, I took in the whole scene at a glance, -and tried to comprehend it in one vast idea. After an hour thus spent, I -left the bridge, and by a stair-case, winding almost interminably round -a post, descended to the base of the precipice. From that point, my path -lay over slippery stones, and among great fragments of the cliff, to the -edge of the cataract, where the wind at once enveloped me in spray, and -perhaps dashed the rainbow round me. Were my long desires fulfilled? And -had I seen Niagara? - -Oh, that I had never heard of Niagara till I beheld it! Blessed were the -wanderers of old, who heard its deep roar, sounding through the woods, -as the summons to an unknown wonder, and approached its awful brink, in -all the freshness of native feeling. Had its own mysterious voice been -the first to warn me of its existence, then, indeed, I might have knelt -down and worshiped. But I had come thither, haunted with a vision of foam -and fury, and dizzy cliffs, and an ocean tumbling down out of the sky—a -scene, in short, which nature had too much good taste and calm simplicity -to realize. My mind had struggled to adapt these false conceptions to the -reality, and finding the effort vain, a wretched sense of disappointment -weighed me down. I climbed the precipice, and threw myself on the earth, -feeling that I was unworthy to look at the Great Falls, and careless -about beholding them again. - -All that night, as there has been and will be for ages past and to come, -a rushing sound was heard, as if a great tempest were sweeping through -the air. It mingled with my dreams, and made them full of storm and -whirlwind. Whenever I awoke, and heard this dread sound in the air, and -the windows rattling as with a mighty blast, I could not rest again, -till looking forth, I saw how bright the stars were, and that every leaf -in the garden was motionless. Never was a summer night more calm to the -eye, nor a gale of autumn louder to the ear. The rushing sound proceeds -from the rapids, and the rattling of the casements is but an effect of -the vibration of the whole house, shaken by the jar of the cataract. The -noise of the rapids draws the attention from the true voice of Niagara, -which is a dull, muffled thunder, resounding between the cliffs. I spent -a wakeful hour at midnight, in distinguishing its reverberations, and -rejoiced to find that my former awe and enthusiasm were reviving. - -Gradually, and after much contemplation, I came to know, by my own -feelings, that Niagara is indeed a wonder of the world, and not the less -wonderful, because time and thought must be employed in comprehending it. -Casting aside all preconceived notions, and preparation to be dire-struck -or delighted, the beholder must stand beside it in the simplicity of his -heart, suffering the mighty scene to work its own impression. Night -after night I dreamed of it, and was gladdened every morning by the -consciousness of a growing capacity to enjoy it. Yet I will not pretend -to the all-absorbing enthusiasm of some more fortunate spectators, nor -deny that very trifling causes would draw my eyes and thoughts from the -cataract. - -The last day that I was to spend at Niagara, before my departure for the -Far West, I sat upon the Table Rock. This celebrated station did not now, -as of old, project fifty feet beyond the line of the precipice, but was -shattered by the fall of an immense fragment, which lay distant on the -shore below. Still, on the utmost verge of the rock, with my feet hanging -over it, I felt as if suspended in the open air. Never before had my mind -been in such perfect unison with the scene. There were intervals when I -was conscious of nothing but the great river, rolling calmly into the -abyss, rather descending than precipitating itself, and acquiring tenfold -majesty from its unhurried motion. It came like the march of Destiny. It -was not taken by surprise, but seemed to have anticipated, in all its -course through the broad lakes, that it must pour their collected waters -down this height. The perfect foam of the river, after its descent, and -the ever-varying shapes of mist, rising up, to become clouds in the -sky, would be the very picture of confusion, were it merely transient, -like the rage of a tempest. But when the beholder has stood awhile, and -perceives no lull in the storm, and considers that the vapor and the foam -are as everlasting as the rocks which produce them, all this turmoil -assumes a sort of calmness. It soothes, while it awes the mind. - -Leaning over the cliff, I saw the guide conducting two adventurers behind -the falls. It was pleasant, from that high seat in the sunshine, to -observe them struggling against the eternal storm of the lower regions, -with heads bent down, now faltering, now pressing forward, and finally -swallowed up in their victory. After their disappearance, a blast rushed -out with an old hat, which it had swept from one of their heads. The -rock, to which they were directing their unseen course, is marked, at -a fearful distance on the exterior of the sheet, by a jet of foam. The -attempt to reach it appears both poetical and perilous to a looker-on, -but may be accomplished without much more difficulty or hazard than in -stemming a violent northeaster. In a few moments, forth came the children -of the mist. Dripping and breathless, they crept along the base of the -cliff, ascended to the guide’s cottage, and received, I presume, a -certificate of their achievement, with three verses of sublime poetry on -the back. - -My contemplations were often interrupted by strangers who came down -from Forsyth’s to take their first view of the falls. A short, ruddy, -middle-aged gentleman, fresh from Old England, peeped over the rock, -and evinced his approbation by a broad grin. His spouse, a very robust -lady, afforded a sweet example of maternal solicitude, being so intent -on the safety of her little boy that she did not even glance at Niagara. -As for the child, he gave himself wholly to the enjoyment of a stick of -candy. Another traveler, a native American, and no rare character among -us, produced a volume of Captain Hall’s tour, and labored earnestly to -adjust Niagara to the captain’s description, departing, at last, without -one new idea or sensation of his own. The next comer was provided, not -with a printed book, but with a blank sheet of foolscap, from top to -bottom of which, by means of an ever-pointed pencil, the cataract was -made to thunder. In a little talk which we had together, he awarded -his approbation to the general view, but censured the position of Goat -Island, observing that it should have been thrown farther to the right, -so as to widen the American falls, and contract those of the Horseshoe. -Next appeared two traders of Michigan, who declared, that, upon the -whole, the sight was worth looking at; there certainly was an immense -water-power here; but that, after all, they would go twice as far to -see the noble stone-works of Lockport, where the Grand Canal is locked -down a descent of sixty feet. They were succeeded by a young fellow, -in a homespun cotton dress, with a staff in his hand, and a pack over -his shoulders. He advanced close to the edge of the rock, where his -attention, at first wavering among the different components of the scene, -finally became fixed in the angle of the Horseshoe falls, which is indeed -the central point of interest. His whole soul seemed to go forth and be -transported thither, till the staff slipped from his relaxed grasp, and -falling down—down—down—struck upon the fragment of the Table Rock. - -In this manner I spent some hours, watching the varied impression made -by the cataract on those who disturbed me, and returning to unwearied -contemplation, when left alone. At length my time came to depart. There -is a grassy footpath through the woods, along the summit of the bank, -to a point whence a cause-way, hewn in the side of the precipice, goes -winding down to the Ferry, about half a mile below the Table Rock. The -sun was near setting, when I emerged from the shadow of the trees, and -began the descent. The indirectness of my downward road continually -changed the point of view, and showed me, in rich and repeated -succession, now, the whitening rapids and majestic leap of the main -river, which appeared more deeply massive as the light departed; now, -the lovelier picture, yet still sublime, of Goat Island, with its rocks -and grove, and the lesser falls, tumbling over the right bank of the St. -Lawrence, like a tributary stream; now, the long vista of the river, as -it eddied and whirled between the cliffs, to pass through Ontario toward -the sea, and everywhere to be wondered at, for this one unrivaled scene. -The golden sunshine tinged the sheet of the American cascade, and painted -on its heaving spray the broken semi-circle of a rainbow, heaven’s own -beauty crowning earth’s sublimity. My steps were slow, and I paused long -at every turn of the descent, as one lingers and pauses who discerns a -brighter and brightening excellence in what he must soon behold no more. -The solitude of the old wilderness now reigned over the whole vicinity of -the falls. My enjoyment became the more rapturous, because no poet shared -it, nor wretch devoid of poetry profaned it; but the spot so famous -through the world was all my own! - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 348. - - =Discussion.= 1. Why was Hawthorne at first disappointed in Niagara? - 2. How did he finally come to know that it is one of the world’s - wonders? 3. What feelings did Niagara produce in Hawthorne? 4. What - effect on the reader did he seek to produce? 5. What does Hawthorne - say is necessary in order to appreciate nature? 6. Account for - the fact that Niagara grew on Hawthorne. 7. What comments of other - observers does Hawthorne give? 8. What do you think determines the - kind of response an observer gives to a wonderful scene in nature, - such as Niagara? 9. Pronounce the following: loath; heroism; route; - unwonted; minutely; reptiles; tremor; abyss; tour; idea. - - =Phrases= - - anticipated enjoyments, 466, 3 - suitable extravagance, 467, 1 - perverse epicurism, 467, 18 - impetuous snow, 467, 34 - Eternal Rainbow, 468, 3 - insulated rock, 468, 6 - abyss of clouds, 468, 28 - native feeling, 469, 4 - tributary stream, 472, 21 - eddied and whirled, 472, 22 - unrivaled scene, 472, 23 - brightening excellence, 472, 25 - - -FROM MORN TILL NIGHT ON A FLORIDA RIVER - -SIDNEY LANIER - -For a perfect journey God gave us a perfect day. The little Ocklawaha -steamboat Marion had started on her voyage some hours before daylight. -She had taken on her passengers the night previous. By seven o’clock on -such a May morning as no words could describe we had made twenty-five -miles up the St. Johns. At this point the Ocklawaha flows into the St. -Johns, one hundred miles above Jacksonville. - -Presently we abandoned the broad highway of the St. Johns, and turned off -to the right into the narrow lane of the Ocklawaha. This is the sweetest -water-lane in the world, a lane which runs for more than one hundred and -fifty miles of pure delight betwixt hedge-rows of oaks and cypresses and -palms and magnolias and mosses and vines; a lane clean to travel, for -there is never a speck of dust in it save the blue dust and gold dust -which the wind blows out of the flags and lilies. - -As we advanced up the stream our wee craft seemed to emit her steam -in leisurely whiffs, as one puffs one’s cigar in a contemplative walk -through the forest. Dick, the pole-man, lay asleep on the guards, in -great peril of rolling into the river over the three inches between his -length and the edge; the people of the boat moved not, and spoke not; -the white crane, the curlew, the heron, the water-turkey, were scarcely -disturbed in their quiet avocations as we passed, and quickly succeeded -in persuading themselves after each momentary excitement of our gliding -by, that we were really no monster, but only some day-dream of a monster. - -“Look at that snake in the water!” said a gentleman, as we sat on deck -with the engineer, just come up from his watch. - -The engineer smiled. “Sir, it is a water-turkey,” he said, gently. - -The water-turkey is the most preposterous bird within the range of -ornithology. He is not a bird; he is a neck with such subordinate rights, -members, belongings, and heirlooms as seem necessary to that end. He has -just enough stomach to arrange nourishment for his neck, just enough -wings to fly painfully along with his neck, and just big enough legs to -keep his neck from dragging on the ground; and his neck is light-colored, -while the rest of him is black. When he saw us he jumped up on a limb and -stared. Then suddenly he dropped into the water, sank like a leaden ball -out of sight, and made us think he was drowned. Presently the tip of his -beak appeared, then the length of his neck lay along the surface of the -water. In this position, with his body submerged, he shot out his neck, -drew it back, wriggled it, twisted it, twiddled it, and poked it spirally -into the east, the west, the north, and the south, round and round with a -violence and energy that made one think in the same breath of corkscrews -and of lightnings. But what nonsense! All that labor and perilous -contortion for a beggarly sprat or a couple of inches of water-snake. - -Some twenty miles from the mouth of the Ocklawaha, at the right-hand edge -of the stream, is the handsomest residence in America. It belongs to a -certain alligator of my acquaintance, a very honest and worthy reptile -of good repute. A little cove of water, dark-green under the overhanging -leaves, placid and clear, curves round at the river edge into the flags -and lilies, with a curve just heart-breaking for its pure beauty. This -house of the alligator is divided into apartments, little bays which -are scalloped out by the lily-pads, according to the winding fancies -of their growth. My reptile, when he desires to sleep, has but to lie -down anywhere; he will find marvelous mosses for his mattress beneath -him; his sheets will be white lily-petals; and the green disks of the -lily-pads will straightway embroider themselves together above him for -his coverlet. He never quarrels with his cook, he is not the slave of a -kitchen, and his one house-maid—the stream—forever sweeps his chambers -clean. His conservatories there under the glass of that water are ever, -without labor, filled with the enchantments of under-water growths. - -His parks and his pleasure-grounds are larger than any king’s. Upon my -saurian’s house the winds have no power, the rains are only a new delight -to him, and the snows he will never see. Regarding fire, as he does not -use it as a slave, so he does not fear it as a tyrant. - -Thus all the elements are the friends of my alligator’s house. While he -sleeps he is being bathed. What glory to awake sweetened and freshened by -the sole, careless act of sleep! - -Lastly, my saurian has unnumbered mansions, and can change his dwelling -as no human house-holder may; it is but a flip of his tail, and lo! he is -established in another place as good as the last, ready furnished to his -liking. - -On and on up the river! We find it a river without banks. The swift, deep -current meanders between tall lines of trees; beyond these, on either -side, there is water also—a thousand shallow rivulets lapsing past the -bases of a multitude of trees. - -Along the edges of the stream every tree-trunk, sapling, and stump is -wrapped about with a close-growing vine. The edges of the stream are also -defined by flowers and water-leaves. The tall blue flags, the lilies -sitting on their round lily-pads like white queens on green thrones, the -tiny stars and long ribbons of the water-grasses—all these border the -river in an infinite variety of adornment. - -And now, after this day of glory, came a night of glory. Deep down in -these shaded lanes it was dark indeed as the night drew on. The stream -which had been all day a girdle of beauty, blue or green, now became a -black band of mystery. - -But presently a brilliant flame flares out overhead: They have lighted -the pine-knots on top of the pilot-house. The fire advances up these dark -windings like a brilliant god. - -The startled birds suddenly flutter into the light and after an instant -of illuminated flight melt into the darkness. From the perfect silence of -these short flights one derives a certain sense of awe. - -Now there is a mighty crack and crash: limbs and leaves scrape and scrub -along the deck; a little bell tinkles; we stop. In turning a short curve, -the boat has run her nose smack into the right bank, and a projecting -stump has thrust itself sheer through the starboard side. Out, Dick! Out, -Henry! Dick and Henry shuffle forward to the bow, thrust forth their long -white pole against a tree-trunk, strain and push and bend to the deck as -if they were salaaming the god of night and adversity. Our bow slowly -rounds into the stream, the wheel turns and we puff quietly along. - -And now it is bed-time. Let me tell you how to sleep on an Ocklawaha -steamer in May. With a small bribe persuade Jim, the steward, to take the -mattress out of your berth and lay it slanting just along the railing -that encloses the lower part of the deck in front and to the left of -the pilot-house. Lie flat on your back down on the mattress, draw your -blanket over you, put your cap on your head, on account of the night air, -fold your arms, say some little prayer or other, and fall asleep with a -star looking right down on your eye. When you wake in the morning you -will feel as new as Adam. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Sidney Lanier (1842-1881) was a native of Georgia. When - a mere lad, just out of college, he entered the Confederate army - and faithfully devoted the most precious years of his life to that - service. While in a military prison he contracted the dread “White - Plague,” and during his few remaining years he struggled constantly - with disease and poverty. He was a talented musician and often found - it necessary to supplement the earnings of his pen by playing in an - orchestra. His thorough knowledge and fine sense of music also appear - in his masterly treatise on the “Science of English Verse.” During - his last years he held a lectureship on English Literature in Johns - Hopkins University, at Baltimore. He has often been compared with Poe - in the exquisite melody of his verse, while in unaffected simplicity - and in truthfulness to nature he is not surpassed by Bryant or - Whittier. His prose as well as his poetry breathes the very spirit of - his sunny southland. In the “Song of the Chattahoochee”, “The Marshes - of Glynn,” and “On a Florida River,” one scents the balsam of the - Georgia pines among which he lived, and the odor of magnolia groves, - jessamine, and wild honey-suckle. - - =Discussion.= 1. From this selection what do you think of the - author’s power of description? 2. Mention instances in which he makes - use of humor to add to his descriptive power. 3. Quote his words - describing the Ocklawaha. 4. What does the author mean by saying, - “We find it a river without banks”? 5. In your own words, give a - description of the alligator’s home. 6. Make a list of things Lanier - saw on this trip that he would not see on a trip down a river in - New England. 7. What gives melody to this piece of prose? 8. What - comparison do you find in lines 31 and 32, page 475? 9. Point out - some examples of alliteration; for what purpose does the author use - alliteration? 10. Pronounce the following: palms; leisurely; infinite. - - =Phrases= - - quiet avocations, 474, 5 - day-dream of a monster, 474, 8 - subordinate rights, 474, 15 - perilous contortion, 474, 29 - reptile of good repute, 474, 34 - infinite variety, 475, 32 - girdle of beauty, 475, 36 - band of mystery, 475, 37 - brilliant flame flares, 476, 1 - sense of awe, 476, 6 - - -I SIGH FOR THE LAND OF THE CYPRESS AND PINE - -SAMUEL HENRY DICKSON - - I sigh for the land of the cypress and pine; - Where the jessamine blooms, and the gay woodbine; - Where the moss droops low from the green oak tree— - Oh, that sun-bright land is the land for me! - - The snowy flower of the orange there - Sheds its sweet fragrance through the air; - And the Indian rose delights to twine - Its branches with the laughing vine. - - There the deer leaps light through the open glade, - Or hides him far in the forest shade, - When the woods resound in the dewy morn - With the clang of the merry hunter’s horn. - - There the humming-bird, of rainbow plume, - Hangs over the scarlet creeper’s bloom; - While ’midst the leaves his varying dyes - Sparkle like half-seen fairy eyes. - - There the echoes ring through the livelong day - With the mock-bird’s changeful roundelay; - And at night, when the scene is calm and still, - With the moan of the plaintive whip-poor-will. - - Oh! I sigh for the land of the cypress and pine, - Of the laurel, the rose, and the gay woodbine, - Where the long, gray moss decks the rugged oak tree,— - That sun-bright land is the land for me. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Samuel Henry Dickson (1798-1872) was born in - Charleston, South Carolina. He was graduated at Yale College in - 1814, and afterward took a course in medicine at the University of - Pennsylvania. Dr. Dickson was professor of medicine successively - at the medical school at Charleston, at the University of the City - of New York, and at Jefferson Medical College, Philadelphia. He - wrote several books on medicine. His love for his native sun-bright - southland is beautifully expressed, in this poem. - - =Discussion.= 1. What part of the country does the poet mean when he - refers to the “land of Cyprus and pine”? 2. Mention the beautiful - things named in the first stanza which characterize this land. 3. - Have you ever seen the moss “which droops low from the green oak - tree”? Where? 4. What birds does the poet mention in this selection? - 5. Do you think these birds would be found in the woods of Maine - or Wisconsin? 6. Note the changes of the time of day throughout - the poem. In which stanza is the “morn” spoken of? The “livelong - day”? The night? 7. Have you ever heard “the moan of the plaintive - whip-poor-will”? 8. Do you think the poet was right in calling its - note a “moan”? Do you know how this bird got its name? 9. Does the - poet convince you that this is a land worth sighing for? - - -THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW - -WASHINGTON IRVING - - A pleasing land of drowsy head it was, - Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye; - And of gay castles in the clouds that pass, - Forever flushing round a summer sky. - - —CASTLE OF INDOLENCE. - - -THE VALLEY AND ITS SUPERSTITIONS - -In the bosom of one of those spacious coves which indent the eastern -shore of the Hudson, at that broad expansion of the river denominated -by the ancient Dutch navigators the Tappan Zee, and where they always -prudently shortened sail, and implored the protection of St. Nicholas -when they crossed, there lies a small market-town or rural port, which -by some is called Greensburgh, but which is more generally and properly -known by the name of Tarry Town. This name was given, we are told, in -former days, by the good housewives of the adjacent country, from the -inveterate propensity of their husbands to linger about the village -tavern on market days. Be that as it may, I do not vouch for the fact, -but merely advert to it, for the sake of being precise and authentic. -Not far from this village, perhaps about two miles, there is a little -valley, or rather lap of land, among high hills, which is one of the -quietest places in the whole world. A small brook glides through it, with -just murmur enough to lull one to repose; and the occasional whistle of -a quail, or tapping of a woodpecker, is almost the only sound that ever -breaks in upon the uniform tranquillity. - -I recollect that, when a stripling, my first exploit in squirrel-shooting -was in a grove of tall walnut trees that shades one side of the valley. I -had wandered into it at noon time, when all nature is peculiarly quiet, -and was startled by the roar of my own gun, as it broke the Sabbath -stillness around, and was prolonged and reverberated by the angry echoes. -If ever I should wish for a retreat, whither I might steal from the -world and its distractions, and dream quietly away the remnant of a -troubled life, I know of none more promising than this little valley. - -From the listless repose of the place, and the peculiar character of -its inhabitants, who are descendants from the original Dutch settlers, -this sequestered glen has long been known by the name of Sleepy Hollow, -and its rustic lads are called the Sleepy Hollow Boys throughout all -the neighboring country. A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over -the land, and to pervade the very atmosphere. Some say that the place -was bewitched by a high German doctor, during the early days of the -settlement; others, that an old Indian chief, the prophet or wizard of -his tribe, held his pow-wows there before the country was discovered by -Master Hendrick Hudson. Certain it is, the place still continues under -the sway of some witching power, that holds a spell over the minds of the -good people, causing them to walk in a continual reverie. They are given -to all kinds of marvelous beliefs; are subject to trances and visions; -and frequently see strange sights, and hear music and voices in the air. -The whole neighborhood abounds with local tales, haunted spots, and -twilight superstitions; stars shoot and meteors glare oftener across the -valley than in any other part of the country, and the nightmare, with her -whole nine fold, seems to make it the favorite scene of her gambols. - -The dominant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted region, and -seems to be commander-in-chief of all the powers of the air, is the -apparition of a figure on horseback without a head. It is said by some -to be the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away -by a cannon-ball, in some nameless battle during the Revolutionary war; -and who is ever and anon seen by the country folk, hurrying along in -the gloom of night, as if on the wings of the wind. His haunts are not -confined to the valley, but extend at times to the adjacent roads, and -especially to the vicinity of a church at no great distance. Indeed, -certain of the most authentic historians of those parts, who have been -careful in collecting and collating the floating facts concerning this -specter, allege that the body of the trooper having been buried in the -churchyard, the ghost rides forth to the scene of battle in nightly -quest of his head; and that the rushing speed with which he sometimes -passes along the Hollow, like a midnight blast, is owing to his being -belated, and in a hurry to get back to the churchyard before daybreak. - -Such is the general purport of this legendary superstition, which has -furnished materials for many a wild story in that region of shadows; and -the specter is known, at all the country firesides, by the name of the -Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow. - -It is remarkable that the visionary propensity I have mentioned is not -confined to the native inhabitants of the valley, but is unconsciously -imbibed by every one who resides there for a time. However wide awake -they may have been before they entered that sleepy region, they are sure, -in a little time, to inhale the witching influence of the air, and begin -to grow imaginative—to dream dreams, and see apparitions. - -I mention this peaceful spot with all possible laud; for it is in such -little retired Dutch valleys, found here and there embosomed in the great -State of New York, that population, manners, and customs remain fixed; -while the great torrent of migration and improvement, which is making -such incessant changes in other parts of this restless country, sweeps by -them unobserved. They are like those little nooks of still water which -border a rapid stream; where we may see the straw and bubble riding -quietly at anchor, or slowly revolving in their mimic harbor, undisturbed -by the rush of the passing current. Though many years have elapsed since -I trod the drowsy shades of Sleepy Hollow, yet I question whether I -should not still find the same trees and the same families vegetating in -its sheltered bosom. - - -ICHABOD CRANE AND KATRINA VAN TASSEL - -In this by-place of nature, there abode, in a remote period of American -history, that is to say, some thirty years since, a worthy wight of -the name of Ichabod Crane; who sojourned, or, as he expressed it, -“tarried,” in Sleepy Hollow, for the purpose of instructing the children -of the vicinity. He was a native of Connecticut, a State which supplies -the Union with pioneers for the mind as well as for the forest, and -sends forth yearly its legions of frontier woodsmen and country -school-masters. The cognomen of Crane was not inapplicable to his person. -He was tall, but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long arms and -legs, hands that dangled a mile out of his sleeves, feet that might have -served for shovels, and his whole frame most loosely hung together. His -head was small, and flat at top, with huge ears, large green glassy eyes, -and a long snipe nose, so that it looked like a weather-cock, perched -upon his spindle neck, to tell which way the wind blew. To see him -striding along the profile of a hill on a windy day, with his clothes -bagging and fluttering about him, one might have mistaken him for the -genius of famine descending upon the earth, or some scarecrow eloped from -a cornfield. - -His schoolhouse was a low building of one large room, rudely constructed -of logs; the windows partly glazed, and partly patched with leaves of -old copy-books. It was most ingeniously secured at vacant hours, by a -withe twisted in the handle of the door, and stakes set against the -window shutters; so that, though a thief might get in with perfect ease, -he would find some embarrassment in getting out; an idea most probably -borrowed by the architect, Yost Van Houten, from the mystery of an -eel-pot. The schoolhouse stood in a rather lonely but pleasant situation, -just at the foot of a woody hill, with a brook running close by, and a -formidable birch tree growing at one end of it. From hence the low murmur -of his pupils’ voices, conning over their lessons, might be heard in a -drowsy summer’s day, like the hum of a bee-hive; interrupted now and -then by the authoritative voice of the master, in the tone of menace or -command; or, peradventure, by the appalling sound of the birch, as he -urged some tardy loiterer along the flowery path of knowledge. Truth to -say, he was a conscientious man, and ever bore in mind the golden maxim, -“Spare the rod and spoil the child.”—Ichabod Crane’s scholars certainly -were not spoiled. - -I would not have it imagined, however, that he was one of those cruel -potentates of the school, who joy in the smart of their subjects; on -the contrary, he administered justice with discrimination rather than -severity, taking the burthen off the backs of the weak and laying it on -those of the strong. Your mere puny stripling, that winced at the least -flourish of the rod, was passed by with indulgence; but the claims of -justice were satisfied by inflicting a double portion on some little, -tough, wrong-headed, broad-skirted Dutch urchin, who sulked and swelled -and grew dogged and sullen beneath the birch. All this he called “doing -his duty by their parents” and he never inflicted a chastisement without -following it by the assurance, so consolatory to the smarting urchin, -that “he would remember it, and thank him for it the longest day he had -to live.” - -When school hours were over, he was even the companion and playmate -of the larger boys; and on holiday afternoons would convoy some of -the smaller ones home, who happened to have pretty sisters, or good -housewives for mothers, noted for the comforts of the cupboard. Indeed it -behooved him to keep on good terms with his pupils. The revenue arising -from his school was small, and would have been scarcely sufficient to -furnish him with daily bread, for he was a huge feeder, and, though -lank, had the dilating powers of an anaconda; but to help out his -maintenance, he was, according to country custom in those parts, boarded -and lodged at the houses of the farmers whose children he instructed. -With these he lived successively a week at a time; thus going the rounds -of the neighborhood, with all his worldly effects tied up in a cotton -handkerchief. - -That all this might not be too onerous on the purses of his rustic -patrons, who are apt to consider the costs of schooling a grievous -burden, and schoolmasters as mere drones, he had various ways of -rendering himself both useful and agreeable. He assisted the farmers -occasionally in the lighter labors of their farms; helped to make hay; -mended the fences; took the horses to water; drove the cows from pasture; -and cut wood for the winter fire. He laid aside, too, all the dominant -dignity and absolute sway with which he lorded it in his little empire, -the school, and became wonderfully gentle and ingratiating. He found -favor in the eyes of the mothers, by petting the children, particularly -the youngest; and like the lion bold, which whilom so magnanimously the -lamb did hold, he would sit with a child on one knee, and rock a cradle -with his foot for whole hours together. - -In addition to his other vocations, he was the singing-master of the -neighborhood, and picked up many bright shillings by instructing the -young folks in psalmody. It was a matter of no little vanity to him, on -Sundays, to take his station in front of the church gallery, with a band -of chosen singers; where, in his own mind, he completely carried away the -palm from the parson. Certain it is, his voice resounded far above all -the rest of the congregation; and there are peculiar quavers still to be -heard in that church, and which may even be heard half a mile off, quite -to the opposite side of the mill-pond, on a still Sunday morning, which -are said to be legitimately descended from the nose of Ichabod Crane. -Thus, by divers little makeshifts in that ingenious way which is commonly -denominated “by hook and by crook,” the worthy pedagogue got on tolerably -enough, and was thought, by all who understood nothing of the labor of -headwork, to have a wonderfully easy life of it. - -The schoolmaster is generally a man of some importance in the female -circle of a rural neighborhood, being considered a kind of idle -gentlemanlike personage, of vastly superior taste and accomplishments to -the rough country swains, and, indeed, inferior in learning only to the -parson. His appearance, therefore, is apt to occasion some little stir at -the tea table of a farmhouse, and the addition of a supernumerary dish -of cakes or sweetmeats, or, peradventure, the parade of a silver teapot. -Our man of letters, therefore, was peculiarly happy in the smiles of all -the country damsels. How he would figure among them in the churchyard, -between services on Sundays! gathering grapes for them from the wild -vines that overran the surrounding trees; reciting for their amusement -all the epitaphs on the tombstones; or sauntering, with a whole bevy of -them, along the banks of the adjacent mill-pond; while the more bashful -country bumpkins hung sheepishly back, envying his superior elegance and -address. - -From his half itinerant life, also, he was a kind of traveling gazette, -carrying the whole budget of local gossip from house to house; so that -his appearance was always greeted with satisfaction. He was, moreover, -esteemed by the women as a man of great erudition, for he had read -several books quite through, and was a perfect master of Cotton Mather’s -history of New England Witchcraft, in which, by the way, he most firmly -and potently believed. - -He was, in fact, an odd mixture of small shrewdness and simple credulity. -His appetite for the marvelous, and his powers of digesting it, were -equally extraordinary; and both had been increased by his residence -in this spellbound region. No tale was too gross or monstrous for his -capacious swallow. It was often his delight, after his school was -dismissed in the afternoon, to stretch himself on the rich bed of -clover, bordering the little brook that whimpered by his schoolhouse, -and there con over old Mather’s direful tales, until the gathering dusk -of the evening made the printed page a mere mist before his eyes. Then, -as he wended his way, by swamp and stream and awful woodland, to the -farmhouse where he happened to be quartered, every sound of nature, -at that witching hour, fluttered his excited imagination: the moan of -the whippoorwill from the hill-side; the boding cry of the tree-toad, -that harbinger of storm; the dreary hooting of the screech-owl, or the -sudden rustling in the thicket of birds frightened from their roost. The -fire-flies, too, which sparkled most vividly in the darkest places, now -and then startled him, as one of uncommon brightness would stream across -his path; and if, by chance, a huge blockhead of a beetle came winging -his blundering flight against him, the poor varlet was ready to give up -the ghost, with the idea that he was struck with a witch’s token. His -only resource on such occasions, either to drown thought, or drive away -evil spirits, was to sing psalm tunes; and the good people of Sleepy -Hollow, as they sat by their doors of an evening, were often filled with -awe, at hearing his nasal melody, “in linked sweetness long drawn out,” -floating from the distant hill, or along the dusky road. - -Another of his sources of fearful pleasure was to pass long winter -evenings with the old Dutch wives, as they sat spinning by the fire, with -a row of apples roasting and spluttering along the hearth, and listen -to their marvelous tales of ghosts and goblins, and haunted fields, and -haunted brooks, and haunted bridges, and haunted houses, and particularly -of the headless horseman, or galloping Hessian of the Hollow, as they -sometimes called him. He would delight them equally by his anecdotes of -witchcraft, and of the direful omens and portentous sights and sounds in -the air, which prevailed in the earlier times of Connecticut; and would -frighten them woefully with speculations upon comets and shooting stars; -and with the alarming fact that the world did absolutely turn round, and -that they were half the time topsy-turvy! - -But if there was a pleasure in all this, while snugly cuddling in the -chimney corner of a chamber that was all of a ruddy glow from the -crackling wood fire, and where, of course, no specter dared to show his -face, it was dearly purchased by the terrors of his subsequent walk -homewards. What fearful shapes and shadows beset his path amidst the dim -and ghastly glare of a snowy night!—With what wistful look did he eye -every trembling ray of light streaming across the waste fields from some -distant window!—How often was he appalled by some shrub covered with -snow, which, like a sheeted specter, beset his very path!—How often did -he shrink with curdling awe at the sound of his own steps on the frosty -crust beneath his feet; and dread to look over his shoulder, lest he -should behold some uncouth being tramping close behind him!—and how often -was he thrown into complete dismay by some rushing blast, howling among -the trees, in the idea that it was the Galloping Hessian on one of his -nightly scourings! - -All these, however, were mere terrors of the night, phantoms of the -mind that walk in darkness; and though he had seen many specters in his -time, and been more than once beset by Satan in divers shapes, in his -lonely perambulations, yet daylight put an end to all these evils; and -he would have passed a pleasant life of it, in despite of the devil and -all his works, if his path had not been crossed by a being that causes -more perplexity to mortal man than ghosts, goblins, and the whole race of -witches put together, and that was—a woman. - -Among the musical disciples who assembled, one evening in each week, -to receive his instructions in psalmody, was Katrina Van Tassel, the -daughter and only child of a substantial Dutch farmer. She was a -blooming lass of fresh eighteen; plump as a partridge; ripe and melting -and rosy cheeked as one of her father’s peaches; and universally famed, -not merely for her beauty, but her vast expectations. She was withal a -little of a coquette, as might be perceived even in her dress, which -was a mixture of ancient and modern fashions, as most suited to set -off her charms. She wore the ornaments of pure yellow gold, which her -great-great-grandmother had brought over from Saardam; the tempting -stomacher of the olden time; and withal a provokingly short petticoat, to -display the prettiest foot and ankle in the country round. - -Ichabod Crane had a soft and foolish heart toward the sex; and it is -not to be wondered at that so tempting a morsel soon found favor in his -eyes, more especially after he had visited her in her paternal mansion. -Old Baltus Van Tassel was a perfect picture of a thriving, contented, -liberal-hearted farmer. He seldom, it is true, sent either his eyes or -his thoughts beyond the boundaries of his own farm; but within those -every thing was snug, happy, and well-conditioned. He was satisfied with -his wealth, but not proud of it; and piqued himself upon the hearty -abundance, rather than the style in which he lived. His stronghold was -situated on the banks of the Hudson, in one of those green, sheltered, -fertile nooks, in which the Dutch farmers are so fond of nestling. A -great elm-tree spread its broad branches over it; at the foot of which -bubbled up a spring of the softest and sweetest water, in a little -well, formed of a barrel; and then stole sparkling away through the -grass, to a neighboring brook, that bubbled along among alders and -dwarf willows. Hard by the farmhouse was a vast barn, that might have -served for a church; every window and crevice of which seemed bursting -forth with the treasures of the farm; the flail was busily resounding -within it from morning to night; swallows and martins skimmed twittering -about the eaves; and rows of pigeons, some with one eye turned up, as -if watching the weather, some with their heads under their wings or -buried in their bosoms, and others swelling, and cooing, and bowing -about their dames, were enjoying the sunshine on the roof. Sleek -unwieldy porkers were grunting in the repose and abundance of their -pens, whence sallied forth, now and then, troops of sucking pigs, as if -to snuff the air. A stately squadron of snowy geese were riding in an -adjoining pond, convoying whole fleets of ducks; regiments of turkeys -were gobbling through the farmyard, and guinea fowls fretting about it, -like ill-tempered housewives, with their peevish discontented cry. Before -the barn door strutted the gallant cock, that pattern of a husband, a -warrior, and a fine gentleman, clapping his burnished wings, and crowing -in the pride and gladness of his heart—sometimes tearing up the earth -with his feet, and then generously calling his ever-hungry family of -wives and children to enjoy the rich morsel which he had discovered. - -The pedagogue’s mouth watered, as he looked upon this sumptuous promise -of luxurious winter fare. In his devouring mind’s eye he pictured to -himself every roasting-pig running about with a pudding in his belly, -and an apple in his mouth; the pigeons were snugly put to bed in a -comfortable pie, and tucked in with a coverlet of crust; the geese were -swimming in their own gravy; and the ducks pairing cozily in dishes, -like snug married couples, with a decent competency of onion sauce. In -the porkers he saw carved out the future sleek side of bacon, and juicy -relishing ham; not a turkey but he beheld daintily trussed up, with its -gizzard under its wing, and peradventure, a necklace of savory sausages; -and even bright chanticleer himself lay sprawling on his back, in a -side-dish, with uplifted claws, as if craving that quarter which his -chivalrous spirit disdained to ask while living. - -As the enraptured Ichabod fancied all this, and as he rolled his great -green eyes over the fat meadow-lands, the rich fields of wheat, of rye, -of buckwheat, and Indian corn, and the orchards burthened with ruddy -fruit which surrounded the warm tenement of Van Tassel, his heart yearned -after the damsel who was to inherit these domains, and his imagination -expanded with the idea, how they might be readily turned into cash, and -the money invested in immense tracts of wild land, and shingle palaces -in the wilderness. Nay, his busy fancy already realized his hopes, and -presented to him the blooming Katrina, with a whole family of children, -mounted on the top of a wagon loaded with household trumpery, with pots -and kettles dangling beneath; and he beheld himself bestriding a pacing -mare, with a colt at her heels, setting out for Kentucky, Tennessee, or -the Lord knows where. - -When he entered the house the conquest of his heart was complete. It was -one of those spacious farmhouses, with high-ridged, but lowly-sloping -roofs, built in the style handed down from the first Dutch settlers; -the low projecting eaves forming a piazza along the front, capable of -being closed up in bad weather. Under this were hung flails, harness, -various utensils of husbandry, and nets for fishing in the neighboring -river. Benches were built along the sides for summer use; and a great -spinning-wheel at one end, and a churn at the other, showed the various -uses to which this important porch might be devoted. From this piazza -the wondering Ichabod entered the hall, which formed the center of the -mansion and the place of usual residence. Here rows of resplendent -pewter, ranged on a long dresser, dazzled his eyes. In one corner -stood a huge bag of wool ready to be spun; in another a quantity of -linsey-woolsey just from the loom; ears of Indian corn, and strings of -dried apples and peaches, hung in gay festoons along the walls, mingled -with the gaud of red peppers; and a door left ajar gave him a peep -into the best parlor, where the claw-footed chairs and dark mahogany -tables shone like mirrors; and irons, with their accompanying shovel and -tongs, glistened from their covert of asparagus tops; mock-oranges and -conch-shells decorated the mantelpiece; strings of various colored birds’ -eggs were suspended above it; a great ostrich egg was hung from the -center of the room; and a corner cupboard, knowingly left open, displayed -immense treasures of old silver and well-mended china. - -From the moment Ichabod laid his eyes upon these regions of delight the -peace of his mind was at an end, and his only study was how to gain the -affections of the peerless daughter of Van Tassel. In this enterprise, -however, he had more real difficulties than generally fell to the lot of -a knight-errant of yore, who seldom had anything but giants, enchanters, -fiery dragons, and such like easily-conquered adversaries, to contend -with; and had to make his way merely through gates of iron and brass, -and walls of adamant, to the castle keep, where the lady of his heart -was confined, all which he achieved as easily as a man would carve his -way to the center of a Christmas pie; and then the lady gave him her -hand as a matter of course. Ichabod, on the contrary, had to win his way -to the heart of a country coquette, beset with a labyrinth of whims and -caprices, which were forever presenting new difficulties and impediments; -and he had to encounter a host of fearful adversaries of real flesh and -blood, the numerous rustic admirers, who beset every portal to her heart; -keeping a watchful and angry eye upon each other, but ready to fly out in -the common cause against any new competitor. - - -BROM BONES - -Among these the most formidable was a burly, roaring, roystering blade, -of the name of Abraham, or, according to the Dutch abbreviation, Brom -Van Brunt, the hero of the country round, which rang with his feats of -strength and hardihood. He was broad-shouldered and double-jointed, with -short curly black hair, and a bluff but not unpleasant countenance, -having a mingled air of fun and arrogance. From his Herculean frame and -great powers of limb, he had received the nickname of BROM BONES, by -which he was universally known. He was famed for great knowledge and -skill in horsemanship, being as dexterous on horseback as a Tartar. He -was foremost at all races and cock-fights; and, with the ascendency -which bodily strength acquires in rustic life, was the umpire in all -disputes, setting his hat on one side, and giving his decisions with -an air and tone admitting of no gainsay or appeal. He was always ready -for either a fight or a frolic; but had more mischief than ill-will in -his composition; and, with all his overbearing roughness, there was a -strong dash of waggish good humor at bottom. He had three or four boon -companions, who regarded him as their model, and at the head of whom he -scoured the country, attending every scene of feud or merriment for miles -round. In cold weather he was distinguished by a fur cap, surmounted -with a flaunting fox’s tail; and when the folks at a country gathering -descried this well-known crest at a distance, whisking about among a -squad of hard riders, they always stood by for a squall. Sometimes -his crew would be heard dashing along past the farmhouses at midnight, -with whoop and halloo, like a troop of Don Cossacks; and the old -dames, startled out of their sleep, would listen for a moment till the -hurry-scurry had clattered by, and then exclaim, “Ay, there goes Brom -Bones and his gang!” The neighbors looked upon him with a mixture of awe, -admiration, and good will; and when any madcap prank or rustic brawl -occurred in the vicinity, always shook their heads, and warranted Brom -Bones was at the bottom of it. - -This rantipole hero had for some time singled out the blooming Katrina -for the object of his uncouth gallantries, and though his amorous toyings -were something like the gentle caresses and endearments of a bear, yet it -was whispered that she did not altogether discourage his hopes. Certain -it is, his advances were signals for rival candidates to retire, who -felt no inclination to cross a lion in his amours; insomuch, that when -his horse was seen tied to Van Tassel’s paling, on a Sunday night, a -sure sign that his master was courting, or, as it is termed, “sparking,” -within, all other suitors passed by in despair, and carried the war into -other quarters. - -Such was the formidable rival with whom Ichabod Crane had to contend, -and, considering all things, a stouter man than he would have shrunk from -the competition, and a wiser man would have despaired. He had, however, -a happy mixture of pliability and perseverance in his nature; he was in -form and spirit like a supple-jack—yielding, but tough; though he bent, -he never broke; and though he bowed beneath the slightest pressure, yet, -the moment it was away—jerk! he was as erect, and carried his head as -high as ever. - -To have taken the field openly against his rival would have been madness; -for he was not a man to be thwarted in his amours, any more than that -stormy lover, Achilles. Ichabod, therefore, made his advances in a -quiet and gently-insinuating manner. Under cover of his character of -singing-master, he made frequent visits at the farmhouse; not that he had -anything to apprehend from the meddlesome interference of parents, which -is so often a stumbling-block in the path of lovers. Balt Van Tassel was -an easy, indulgent soul; he loved his daughter better even than his -pipe, and, like a reasonable man and an excellent father, let her have -her way in everything. His notable little wife, too, had enough to do to -attend to her housekeeping and manage her poultry; for, as she sagely -observed, ducks and geese are foolish things, and must be looked after, -but girls can take care of themselves. Thus while the busy dame bustled -about the house, or plied her spinning-wheel at one end of the piazza, -honest Balt would sit smoking his evening pipe at the other, watching the -achievements of a little wooden warrior, who, armed with a sword in each -hand, was most valiantly fighting the wind on the pinnacle of the barn. -In the meantime, Ichabod would carry on his suit with the daughter by -the side of the spring under the great elm, or sauntering along in the -twilight, that hour so favorable to the lover’s eloquence. - -I profess not to know how women’s hearts are wooed and won. To me they -have always been matters of riddle and admiration. Some seem to have but -one vulnerable point, or door of access; while others have a thousand -avenues, and may be captured in a thousand different ways. It is a -great triumph of skill to gain the former, but a still greater proof of -generalship to maintain possession of the latter, for the man must battle -for his fortress at every door and window. He who wins a thousand common -hearts is therefore entitled to some renown; but he who keeps undisputed -sway over the heart of a coquette is indeed a hero. Certain it is, this -was not the case with the redoubtable Brom Bones; and from the moment -Ichabod Crane made his advances, the interests of the former evidently -declined; his horse was no longer seen tied at the palings on Sunday -nights, and a deadly feud gradually arose between him and the preceptor -of Sleepy Hollow. - -Brom, who had a degree of rough chivalry in his nature, would fain have -carried matters to open warfare, and have settled their pretensions -to the lady, according to the mode of those most concise and simple -reasoners, the knights-errant of yore—by single combat; but Ichabod was -too conscious of the superior might of his adversary to enter the lists -against him; he had overheard a boast of Bones, that he would “double the -schoolmaster up, and lay him on a shelf of his own schoolhouse”; and he -was too wary to give him an opportunity. There was something extremely -provoking in this obstinately pacific system; it left Brom no alternative -but to draw upon the funds of rustic waggery in his disposition, and -to play off boorish practical jokes upon his rival. Ichabod became the -object of whimsical persecution to Bones and his gang of rough riders. -They harried his hitherto peaceful domains; smoked out his singing -school, by stopping up the chimney; broke into the schoolhouse at night, -in spite of its formidable fastenings of withe and window stakes, and -turned everything topsy-turvy; so that the poor schoolmaster began to -think all the witches of the country held their meetings there. But what -was still more annoying, Brom took all opportunities of turning him into -ridicule in presence of his mistress, and had a scoundrel dog whom he -taught to whine in the most ludicrous manner, and introduced as a rival -of Ichabod’s to instruct her in psalmody. - - -THE QUILTING FROLIC - -In this way matters went on for some time, without producing any -material effect on the relative situation of the contending powers. -On a fine autumnal afternoon, Ichabod, in pensive mood, sat enthroned -on the lofty stool whence he usually watched all the concerns of his -little literary realm. In his hand he swayed a ferrule, that scepter -of despotic power; the birch of justice reposed on three nails, behind -the throne, a constant terror to evil doers; while on the desk before -him might be seen sundry contraband articles and prohibited weapons, -detected upon the persons of idle urchins; such as half-munched apples, -popguns, whirligigs, fly-cages, and whole legions of rampant little paper -game-cocks. Apparently there had been some appalling act of justice -recently inflicted, for his scholars were all busily intent upon their -books, or slyly whispering behind them with one eye kept upon the master; -and a kind of buzzing stillness reigned throughout the schoolroom. It was -suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a negro, in tow-cloth jacket -and trousers, a round-crowned fragment of a hat, like the cap of Mercury, -and mounted on the back of a ragged, wild, half-broken colt, which he -managed with a rope by way of halter. He came clattering up to the school -door with an invitation to Ichabod to attend a merry-making or “quilting -frolic,” to be held that evening at Mynheer Van Tassel’s; and having -delivered his message with that air of importance, and effort at fine -language, which a negro is apt to display on petty embassies of the kind, -he dashed over the brook, and was seen scampering away up the hollow, -full of the importance and hurry of his mission. - -All was now bustle and hubbub in the late quiet schoolroom. The scholars -were hurried through their lessons, without stopping at trifles; those -who were nimble skipped over half with impunity, and those who were tardy -had a smart application now and then in the rear to quicken their speed -or help them over a tall word. Books were flung aside without being put -away on the shelves, inkstands were over-turned, benches thrown down, and -the whole school was turned loose an hour before the usual time, bursting -forth like a legion of young imps, yelping and racketing about the green, -in joy of their early emancipation. - -The gallant Ichabod now spent at least an extra half hour at his toilet, -brushing and furbishing up his best, and indeed only, suit of rusty -black, and arranging his locks by a bit of broken looking-glass, that -hung up in the schoolhouse. That he might make his appearance before -his mistress in the true style of a cavalier he borrowed a horse from -the farmer with whom he was domiciled, a choleric old Dutchman, of the -name of Hans Van Ripper, and, thus gallantly mounted, issued forth, -like a knight-errant, in quest of adventures. But it is meet I should, -in the true spirit of romantic story, give some account of the looks -and equipments of my hero and his steed. The animal he bestrode was a -broken-down plow-horse, that had outlived almost everything but his -viciousness. He was gaunt and shagged, with a ewe neck and a head like -a hammer; his rusty mane and tail were tangled and knotted with burs; -one eye had lost its pupil and was glaring and spectral; but the other -had the gleam of a genuine devil in it. Still he must have had fire and -mettle in his day, if we may judge from the name he bore of Gunpowder. He -had, in fact, been a favorite steed of his master’s, the choleric Van -Ripper, who was a furious rider, and had infused, very probably, some of -his own spirit into the animal; for, old and broken-down as he looked, -there was more of the lurking devil in him than in any young filly in the -country. - -Ichabod was a suitable figure for such a steed. He rode with short -stirrups, which brought his knees nearly up to the pommel of the saddle; -his sharp elbows stuck out like grasshoppers; he carried his whip -perpendicularly in his hand, like a scepter, and, as his horse jogged on, -the motion of his arms was not unlike the flapping of a pair of wings. -A small wool hat rested on the top of his nose, for so his scanty strip -of forehead might be called; and the skirts of his black coat fluttered -out almost to the horse’s tail. Such was the appearance of Ichabod and -his steed, as they shambled out of the gate of Hans Van Ripper, and it -was altogether such an apparition as is seldom to be met with in broad -daylight. - -It was, as I have said, a fine autumnal day, the sky was clear and -serene, and nature wore that rich and golden livery which we always -associate with the idea of abundance. The forests had put on their -sober brown and yellow, while some trees of the tenderer kind had been -nipped by the frosts into brilliant dyes of orange, purple, and scarlet. -Streaming files of wild ducks began to make their appearance high in the -air; the bark of the squirrel might be heard from the groves of beech and -hickory nuts, and the pensive whistle of the quail at intervals from the -neighboring stubble-field. - -The small birds were taking their farewell banquets. In the fullness of -their revelry they fluttered, chirping and frolicking, from bush to bush, -and tree to tree, capricious from the very profusion and variety around -them. There was the honest cock-robin, the favorite game of stripling -sportsmen, with its loud querulous note, and the twittering blackbirds -flying in sable clouds; and the golden-winged woodpecker, with his -crimson crest, his broad black gorget, and splendid plumage; and the -cedar bird, with its red-tipt wings and yellow-tipt tail, and its little -montero cap of feathers; and the blue-jay, that noisy coxcomb, in his -gay light-blue coat and white underclothes, screaming and chattering, -nodding and bobbing and bowing, and pretending to be on good terms with -every songster of the grove. - -As Ichabod jogged slowly on his way, his eye, ever open to every symptom -of culinary abundance, ranged with delight over the treasures of jolly -autumn. On all sides he beheld vast store of apples; some hanging in -oppressive opulence on the trees; some gathered into baskets and barrels -for the market; others heaped up in rich piles for the cider-press. -Farther on he beheld great fields of Indian corn, with its golden ears -peeping from their leafy coverts, and holding out the promise of cakes -and hasty pudding; and the yellow pumpkins lying beneath them, turning -up their fair round bellies to the sun, and giving ample prospects of -the most luxurious of pies; and anon he passed the fragrant buckwheat -fields, breathing the odor of the bee-hive, and as he beheld them, soft -anticipations stole over his mind of dainty slap-jacks, well buttered, -and garnished with honey or treacle, by the delicate little dimpled hand -of Katrina Van Tassel. - -Thus feeding his mind with many sweet thoughts and “sugared -suppositions,” he journeyed along the sides of a range of hills which -look out upon some of the goodliest scenes of the mighty Hudson. The sun -gradually wheeled his broad disk down into the west. The wide bosom of -the Tappan Zee lay motionless and glassy, excepting that here and there -a gentle undulation waved and prolonged the blue shadow of the distant -mountain. A few amber clouds floated in the sky, without a breath of air -to move them. The horizon was of a fine golden tint, changing gradually -into a pure apple green, and from that into the deep blue of the -mid-heaven. A slanting ray lingered on the woody crests of the precipices -that overhung some parts of the river, giving greater depth to the -dark-gray and purple of their rocky sides. A sloop was loitering in the -distance, dropping slowly down with the tide, her sail hanging uselessly -against the mast, and as the reflection of the sky gleamed along the -still water, it seemed as if the vessel was suspended in the air. - -It was toward evening that Ichabod arrived at the castle of the Heer -Van Tassel, which he found thronged with the pride and flower of the -adjacent country. Old farmers, a spare, leathern-faced race, in homespun -coats and breeches, blue stockings, huge shoes, and magnificent pewter -buckles. Their brisk withered little dames, in close crimped caps, long -waisted short-gowns, homespun petticoats, with scissors and pincushions, -and gay calico pockets hanging on the outside. Buxom lasses, almost as -antiquated as their mothers, excepting where a straw hat, a fine ribbon, -or perhaps a white frock, gave symptoms of city innovation. The sons, -in short square-skirted coats with rows of stupendous brass buttons, -and their hair generally queued in the fashion of the times, especially -if they could procure an eel-skin for the purpose, it being esteemed -throughout the country, as a potent nourisher and strengthener of the -hair. - -Brom Bones, however, was the hero of the scene, having come to the -gathering on his favorite steed, Daredevil, a creature, like himself, -full of mettle and mischief, and which no one but himself could manage. -He was, in fact, noted for preferring vicious animals, given to all kinds -of tricks, which kept the rider in constant risk of his neck, for he held -a tractable well-broken horse as unworthy of a lad of spirit. - -Fain would I pause to dwell upon the world of charms that burst upon -the enraptured gaze of my hero, as he entered the state parlor of Van -Tassel’s mansion. Not those of the bevy of buxom lasses, with their -luxurious display of red and white; but the ample charms of a genuine -Dutch country tea-table, in the sumptuous time of autumn. Such heaped-up -platters of cakes of various and almost indescribable kinds, known only -to experienced Dutch housewives! There was the doughty doughnut, the -tenderer oly koek, and the crisp and crumbling cruller; sweet cakes -and short cakes, ginger cakes and honey cakes, and the whole family of -cakes. And then there were apple pies and peach pies and pumpkin pies; -besides slices of ham and smoked beef; and moreover delectable dishes -of preserved plums, and peaches, and pears, and quinces, not to mention -broiled shad and roasted chickens; together with bowls of milk and -cream, all mingled higgledy-piggledy, pretty much as I have enumerated -them, with the motherly teapot sending up its clouds of vapor from -the midst—Heaven bless the mark! I want breath and time to discuss -this banquet as it deserves, and am too eager to get on with my story. -Happily, Ichabod Crane was not in so great a hurry as his historian, but -did ample justice to every dainty. - -He was a kind and thankful creature, whose heart dilated in proportion as -his skin was filled with good cheer; and whose spirits rose with eating -as some men’s do with drink. He could not help, too, rolling his large -eyes round him as he ate, and chuckling with the possibility that he -might one day be lord of all this scene of almost unimaginable luxury -and splendor. Then, he thought, how soon he’d turn his back upon the old -schoolhouse, snap his fingers in the face of Hans Van Ripper, and every -other niggardly patron, and kick any itinerant pedagogue out of doors -that should dare to call him comrade. - -Old Baltus Van Tassel moved about among his guests with a face dilated -with content and good humor, round and jolly as the harvest moon. His -hospitable attentions were brief, but expressive, being confined to a -shake of the hand, a slap on the shoulder, a loud laugh, and a pressing -invitation to fall to, and help themselves. - -And now the sound of the music from the common room, or hall, summoned to -the dance. The musician was an old gray-headed negro, who had been the -itinerant orchestra of the neighborhood for more than half a century. -His instrument was as old and battered as himself. The greater part of -the time he scraped on two or three strings, accompanying every movement -of the bow with a motion of the head, bowing almost to the ground, and -stamping with his foot whenever a fresh couple were to start. - -Ichabod prided himself upon his dancing as much as upon his vocal powers. -Not a limb, not a fiber about him was idle; and to have seen his loosely -hung frame in full motion, and clattering about the room, you would -have thought Saint Vitus himself, that blessed patron of the dance, was -figuring before you in person. He was the admiration of all the negroes, -who, having gathered, of all ages and sizes, from the farm and the -neighborhood, stood forming a pyramid of shining black faces at every -door and window, gazing with delight at the scene, rolling their white -eye-balls, and showing grinning rows of ivory from ear to ear. How could -the flogger of urchins be otherwise than animated and joyous? The lady of -his heart was his partner in the dance, and smiling graciously in reply -to all his amorous oglings; while Brom Bones, sorely smitten with love -and jealousy, sat brooding by himself in one corner. - -When the dance was at an end, Ichabod was attracted to a knot of the -sager folks, who, with old Van Tassel, sat smoking at one end of the -piazza, gossiping over former times, and drawing out long stories about -the war. - -This neighborhood, at the time of which I am speaking, was one of -those highly-favored places which abound with chronicle and great men. -The British and American line had run near it during the war; it had, -therefore, been the scene of marauding, and infested with refugees, -cowboys, and all kinds of border chivalry. Just sufficient time had -elapsed to enable each story-teller to dress up his tale with a little -becoming fiction, and, in the indistinctness of his recollection, to make -himself the hero of every exploit. - -There was the story of Doffue Martling, a large blue-bearded Dutchman, -who had nearly taken a British frigate with an old iron nine-pounder -from a mud breastwork, only that his gun burst at the sixth discharge. -And there was an old gentleman who shall be nameless, being too rich a -mynheer to be lightly mentioned, who, in the battle of Whiteplains, being -an excellent master of defense, parried a musket ball with a small sword, -insomuch that he absolutely felt it whiz around the blade, and glance -off at the hilt; in proof of which he was ready at any time to show the -sword with the hilt a little bent. There were several more that had been -equally great in the field, not one of whom but was persuaded that he had -a considerable hand in bringing the war to a happy termination. - -But all these were nothing to the tales of ghosts and apparitions that -succeeded. The neighborhood is rich in legendary treasures of the kind. -Local tales and superstitions thrive best in these sheltered long-settled -retreats, but are trampled under foot by the shifting throng that forms -the population of most of our country places. Besides, there is no -encouragement for ghosts in most of our villages, for they have scarcely -had time to finish their first nap, and turn themselves in their graves, -before their surviving friends have traveled away from the neighborhood; -so that when they turn out at night to walk their rounds they have no -acquaintance left to call upon. This is perhaps the reason why we so -seldom hear of ghosts except in our long-established Dutch communities. - -The immediate cause, however, of the prevalence of supernatural stories -in these parts was doubtless owing to the vicinity of Sleepy Hollow. -There was a contagion in the very air that blew from that haunted region; -it breathed forth an atmosphere of dreams and fancies infecting all the -land. Several of the Sleepy Hollow people were present at Van Tassel’s, -and, as usual, were doling out their wild and wonderful legends. Many -dismal tales were told about funeral trains, and mourning cries and -wailings heard and seen about the great tree where the unfortunate Major -André was taken, and which stood in the neighborhood. Some mention was -made also of the woman in white, that haunted the dark glen at Raven -Rock, and was often heard to shriek on winter nights before a storm, -having perished there in the snow. The chief part of the stories, -however, turned upon the favorite specter of Sleepy Hollow, the headless -horseman, who had been heard several times of late, patrolling the -country; and, it was said, tethered his horse nightly among the graves in -the churchyard. - -The sequestered situation of this church seems always to have made it -a favorite haunt of troubled spirits. It stands on a knoll, surrounded -by locust-trees and lofty elms, from among which its decent whitewashed -walls shine modestly forth, like Christian purity beaming through the -shades of retirement. A gentle slope descends from it to a silver sheet -of water, bordered by high trees, between which peeps may be caught at -the blue hills of the Hudson. To look upon its grass-grown yard, where -the sunbeams seem to sleep so quietly, one would think that there at -least the dead might rest in peace. On one side of the church extends -a wide woody dell, along which raves a large brook among broken rocks -and trunks of fallen trees. Over a deep black part of the stream, not -far from the church, was formerly thrown a wooden bridge; the road that -led to it, and the bridge itself, were thickly shaded by overhanging -trees, which cast a gloom about it, even in the daytime; but occasioned -a fearful darkness at night. This was one of the favorite haunts of the -headless horseman and the place where he was most frequently encountered. -The tale was told of old Brouwer, a most heretical disbeliever in ghosts, -how he met the horseman returning from his foray into Sleepy Hollow, and -was obliged to get up behind him; how they galloped over bush and brake, -over hill and swamp, until they reached the bridge, when the horseman -suddenly turned into a skeleton, threw old Brouwer into the brook, and -sprang away over the tree-tops with a clap of thunder. - -This story was immediately matched by a thrice marvelous adventure of -Brom Bones, who made light of the galloping Hessian as an arrant jockey. -He affirmed that, on returning one night from the neighboring village of -Sing Sing, he had been overtaken by this midnight trooper; that he had -offered to race with him for a bowl of punch, and should have won it, -too, for Daredevil beat the goblin horse all hollow, but, just as they -came to the church bridge, the Hessian bolted, and vanished in a flash of -fire. - -All these tales, told in that drowsy undertone with which men talk in the -dark, the countenances of the listeners only now and then receiving a -casual gleam from the glare of a pipe, sank deep in the mind of Ichabod. -He repaid them in kind with large extracts from his invaluable author, -Cotton Mather, and added many marvelous events that had taken place in -his native State of Connecticut, and fearful sights which he had seen in -his nightly walks about Sleepy Hollow. - -The revel now gradually broke up. The old farmers gathered together their -families in their wagons, and were heard for some time rattling along the -hollow roads, and over the distant hills. Some of the damsels mounted on -pillions behind their favorite swains, and their light-hearted laughter, -mingling with the clatter of hoofs, echoed along the silent woodlands, -sounding fainter and fainter until they gradually died away—and the -late scene of noise and frolic was all silent and deserted. Ichabod only -lingered behind, according to the custom of country lovers, to have a -tête-a-tête with the heiress, fully convinced that he was now on the high -road to success. What passed at this interview I will not pretend to say, -for in fact I do not know. Something, however, I fear me, must have gone -wrong, for he certainly sallied forth, after no very great interval, with -an air quite desolate and chop-fallen.—Oh, these women! these women! -Could that girl have been playing off any of her coquettish tricks?—Was -her encouragement of the poor pedagogue all a mere sham to secure her -conquest of his rival?—Heaven only knows, not I!—Let it suffice to say, -Ichabod stole forth with the air of one who had been sacking a hen-roost -rather than a fair lady’s heart. Without looking to the right or left to -notice the scene of rural wealth, on which he had so often gloated, he -went straight to the stable, and with several hearty cuffs and kicks, -roused his steed most uncourteously from the comfortable quarters in -which he was soundly sleeping, dreaming of mountains of corn and oats, -and whole valleys of timothy and clover. - - -ICHABOD’S TERRIFYING EXPERIENCES - -It was the very witching time of night that Ichabod, heavy-hearted and -crestfallen, pursued his travel homewards, along the sides of the lofty -hills which rise above Tarry Town, and which he had traversed so cheerily -in the afternoon. The hour was as dismal as himself. Far below him, the -Tappan Zee spread its dusky and indistinct waste of waters, with here and -there the tall mast of a sloop, riding quietly at anchor under the land. -In the dead hush of midnight, he could even hear the barking of the watch -dog from the opposite shore of the Hudson; but it was so vague and faint -as only to give an idea of his distance from this faithful companion of -man. Now and then, too, the long-drawn crowing of a cock, accidentally -awakened, would sound far, far off, from some farmhouse away among the -hills—but it was like a dreaming sound in his ear. No signs of life -occurred near him, but occasionally the melancholy chirp of a cricket, or -perhaps the guttural twang of a bull-frog, from a neighboring marsh, as -if sleeping uncomfortably, and turning suddenly in his bed. - -All the stories of ghosts and goblins that he had heard in the afternoon -now came crowding upon his recollection. The night grew darker and -darker; the stars seemed to sink deeper in the sky, and driving clouds -occasionally hid them from his sight. He had never felt so lonely and -dismal. He was, moreover, approaching the very place where many of the -scenes of the ghost stories had been laid. In the center of the road -stood an enormous tuliptree, which towered like a giant above all the -other trees of the neighborhood, and formed a kind of landmark. Its limbs -were gnarled, and fantastic, large enough to form trunks for ordinary -trees, twisting down almost to the earth, and rising again into the air. -It was connected with the tragical story of the unfortunate André, who -had been taken prisoner hard by, and was universally known by the name -of Major André’s tree. The common people regarded it with a mixture of -respect and superstition, partly out of sympathy for the fate of its -ill-starred namesake, and partly from the tales of strange sights and -doleful lamentations told concerning it. - -As Ichabod approached this fearful tree, he began to whistle; he thought -his whistle was answered—it was but a blast sweeping sharply through -the dry branches. As he approached a little nearer he thought he saw -something white hanging in the midst of the tree—he paused and ceased -whistling; but on looking more narrowly perceived that it was a place -where the tree had been scathed by lightning, and the white wood laid -bare. Suddenly he heard a groan—his teeth chattered and his knees smote -against the saddle; it was but the rubbing of one huge bough upon -another, as they were swayed about by the breeze. He passed the tree in -safety, but new perils lay before him. - -About two hundred yards from the tree a small brook crossed the road and -ran into a marshy and thickly-wooded glen, known by the name of Wiley’s -swamp. A few rough logs, laid side by side, served for a bridge over -this stream. On that side of the road where the brook entered the wood -a group of oaks and chestnuts, matted thick with wild grapevines, threw -a cavernous gloom over it. To pass this bridge was the severest trial. -It was at this identical spot that the unfortunate André was captured, -and under the covert of those chestnuts and vines were the sturdy yeomen -concealed who surprised him. This has ever since been considered a -haunted stream, and fearful are the feelings of the schoolboy who has to -pass it alone after dark. - -As he approached the stream his heart began to thump; he summoned up, -however, all his resolution, gave his horse half a score of kicks in the -ribs, and attempted to dash briskly across the bridge; but instead of -starting forward, the perverse old animal made a lateral movement, and -ran broadside against the fence. Ichabod, whose fears increased with the -delay, jerked the reins on the other side and kicked lustily with the -contrary foot; it was all in vain; his steed started, it is true, but -it was only to plunge to the opposite side of the road into a thicket -of brambles and alder bushes. The schoolmaster now bestowed both whip -and heel upon the starveling ribs of old Gunpowder, who dashed forward, -snuffing and snorting, but came to a stand just by the bridge, with -a suddenness that had nearly sent his rider sprawling over his head. -Just at this moment a plashy tramp by the side of the bridge caught the -sensitive ear of Ichabod. In the dark shadow of the grove, on the margin -of the brook, he beheld something huge, misshapen, black, and towering. -It stirred not, but seemed gathered up in the gloom, like some gigantic -monster ready to spring upon the traveler. - -The hair of the affrighted pedagogue rose upon his head with terror. -What was to be done? To turn and fly was now too late; and besides, what -chance was there of escaping ghost or goblin, if such it was, which -could ride upon the wings of the wind? Summoning up, therefore, a show -of courage, he demanded in stammering accents—“Who are you?” He received -no reply. He repeated his demand in a still more agitated voice. Still -there was no answer. Once more he cudgelled the sides of the inflexible -Gunpowder, and, shutting his eyes, broke forth with involuntary fervor -into a psalm tune. Just then the shadowy object of alarm put itself in -motion, and, with a scramble and a bound, stood at once in the middle -of the road. Though the night was dark and dismal, yet the form of the -unknown might now in some degree be ascertained. He appeared to be a -horseman of large dimensions, and mounted on a black horse of powerful -frame. He made no offer of molestation or sociability, but kept aloof on -one side of the road, jogging along on the blind side of old Gunpowder, -who had now got over his fright and waywardness. - -Ichabod, who had no relish for this strange midnight companion, and -bethought himself of the adventure of Brom Bones with the Galloping -Hessian, now quickened his steed, in hopes of leaving him behind. The -stranger, however, quickened his horse to an equal pace. Ichabod pulled -up and fell into a walk, thinking to lag behind—the other did the same. -His heart began to sink within him; he endeavored to resume his psalm -tune, but his parched tongue clove to the roof of his mouth, and he could -not utter a stave. There was something in the moody and dogged silence -of this pertinacious companion that was mysterious and appalling. It -was soon fearfully accounted for. On mounting a rising ground, which -brought the figure of his fellow-traveler in relief against the sky, -gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod was horror struck, on -perceiving that he was headless!—but his horror was still more increased, -on observing that the head, which should have rested on his shoulders, -was carried before him on the pommel of the saddle; his terror rose -to desperation; he rained a shower of kicks and blows upon Gunpowder, -hoping, by a sudden movement, to give his companion the slip—but the -specter started full jump with him. Away then they dashed through thick -and thin; stones flying, and sparks flashing at every bound. Ichabod’s -flimsy garments fluttered in the air, as he stretched his long lank body -away over his horse’s head, in the eagerness of his flight. - -They had now reached the road which turns off to Sleepy Hollow; but -Gunpowder, who seemed possessed with a demon, instead of keeping up it, -made an opposite turn, and plunged headlong down hill to the left. This -road leads through a sandy hollow, shaded by trees for about a quarter -of a mile, where it crosses the bridge famous in goblin story, and just -beyond swells the green knoll on which stands the whitewashed church. - -As yet the panic of the steed had given his unskillful rider an apparent -advantage in the chase; but just as he had got half way through the -hollow the girths of the saddle gave way, and he felt it slipping from -under him. He seized it by the pommel, and endeavored to hold it firm, -but in vain; and had just time to save himself by clasping old Gunpowder -round the neck, when the saddle fell to the earth, and he heard it -trampled under foot by his pursuer. For a moment the terror of Hans Van -Ripper’s wrath passed across his mind—for it was his Sunday saddle; but -this was no time for petty fears; the goblin was hard on his haunches; -and (unskillful rider that he was!) he had much ado to maintain his seat; -sometimes slipping on one side, sometimes on another, and sometimes -jolted on the high ridge of his horse’s back-bone, with a violence that -he verily feared would cleave him asunder. - -An opening in the trees now cheered him with the hopes that the church -bridge was at hand. The wavering reflection of a silver star in the -bosom of the brook told him that he was not mistaken. He saw the walls -of the church dimly glaring under the trees beyond. He recollected the -place where Brom Bones’s ghostly competitor had disappeared. “If I can -but reach that bridge,” thought Ichabod, “I am safe.” Just then he heard -the black steed panting and blowing close behind him; he even fancied -that he felt his hot breath. Another convulsive kick in the ribs, and -old Gunpowder sprang upon the bridge; he thundered over the resounding -planks; he gained the opposite side; and now Ichabod cast a look behind -to see if his pursuer should vanish, according to rule, in a flash of -fire and brimstone. Just then he saw the goblin rising in his stirrups, -and in the very act of hurling his head at him. Ichabod endeavored to -dodge the horrible missile, but too late. It encountered his cranium with -a tremendous crash—he was tumbled headlong into the dust, and Gunpowder, -the black steed, and the goblin rider passed by like a whirlwind. - -The next morning the old horse was found without his saddle, and with the -bridle under his feet, soberly cropping the grass at his master’s gate. -Ichabod did not make his appearance at breakfast—dinner-hour came, but -no Ichabod. The boys assembled at the schoolhouse, and strolled idly -about the banks of the brook, but no schoolmaster. Hans Van Ripper now -began to feel some uneasiness about the fate of poor Ichabod and his -saddle. An inquiry was set on foot, and after diligent investigation they -came upon his traces. In one part of the road leading to the church was -found the saddle trampled in the dirt; the tracks of horses’ hoofs deeply -dented in the road, and evidently at furious speed, were traced to the -bridge, beyond which, on the bank of a broad part of the brook, where the -water ran deep and black, was found the hat of the unfortunate Ichabod, -and close beside it a shattered pumpkin. - -The brook was searched, but the body of the schoolmaster was not to be -discovered. Hans Van Ripper, as executor of his estate, examined the -bundle which contained all his worldly effects. They consisted of two -shirts and a half; two stocks for the neck; a pair or two of worsted -stockings; an old pair of corduroy small-clothes; a rusty razor; a book -of psalm tunes, full of dogs’ ears; and a broken pitchpipe. As to the -books and furniture of the schoolhouse, they belonged to the community, -excepting Cotton Mather’s History of Witchcraft, a New England Almanac, -and a book of dreams and fortune-telling; in which last was a sheet of -foolscap much scribbled and blotted in several fruitless attempts to make -a copy of verses in honor of the heiress of Van Tassel. These magic books -and the poetic scrawl were forthwith consigned to the flames by Hans Van -Ripper, who from that time forward determined to send his children no -more to school, observing that he never knew any good come of this same -reading and writing. Whatever money the schoolmaster possessed, and he -had received his quarter’s pay but a day or two before, he must have had -about his person at the time of his disappearance. - -The mysterious event caused much speculation at the church on the -following Sunday. Knots of gazers and gossips were collected in the -churchyard, at the bridge, and at the spot where the hat and pumpkin -had been found. The stories of Brouwer, of Bones, and a whole budget of -others, were called to mind; and when they had diligently considered them -all, and compared them with the symptoms of the present case, they shook -their heads, and came to the conclusion that Ichabod had been carried off -by the galloping Hessian. As he was a bachelor, and in nobody’s debt, -nobody troubled his head any more about him. The school was removed to -a different quarter of the hollow, and another pedagogue reigned in his -stead. - -It is true, an old farmer, who had been down to New York, on a visit -several years after, and from whom this account of the ghostly adventure -was received, brought home the intelligence that Ichabod Crane was still -alive; that he had left the neighborhood, partly through fear of the -goblin and Hans Van Ripper, and partly in mortification at having been -suddenly dismissed by the heiress; that he had changed his quarters to a -distant part of the country; had kept school and studied law at the same -time, had been admitted to the bar, turned politician, electioneered, -written for the newspapers, and finally had been made a justice of -the Ten Pound Court. Brom Bones, too, who shortly after his rival’s -disappearance conducted the blooming Katrina in triumph to the altar, -was observed to look exceedingly knowing whenever the story of Ichabod -was related, and always burst into a hearty laugh at the mention of the -pumpkin, which led some to suspect that he knew more about the matter -than he chose to tell. - -The old country wives, however, who are the best judges of these matters, -maintain to this day that Ichabod was spirited away by supernatural -means; and it is a favorite story often told about the neighborhood round -the winter evening fire. The bridge became more than ever an object of -superstitious awe, and that may be the reason why the road has been -altered of late years, so as to approach the church by the border of the -mill-pond. The schoolhouse being deserted soon fell to decay, and was -reported to be haunted by the ghost of the unfortunate pedagogue; and the -plowboy, loitering homeward of a still summer evening, has often fancied -his voice at a distance, chanting a melancholy psalm tune among the -tranquil solitudes of Sleepy Hollow. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 424. - - =Discussion.= 1. What was the situation of Sleepy Hollow? 2. Read - all the names Irving applies to this valley. 3. What impression do - these names help to give? 4. What effect upon the inhabitants had - the situation of the valley? 5. In describing this effect, what - comparison does Irving use? 6. Why does Irving exaggerate Ichabod’s - peculiarities? 7. What stories did Ichabod enjoy? 8. What effect - did these have upon him? 9. For what is the author preparing the - reader when he tells this? 10. How do you account for Ichabod’s - disappearance? 11. Read all the hints throughout the story which - helped you to come to this conclusion. 12. Read lines which show - Irving’s humor. 13. What is the spirit of this humor? 14. Read lines - which show Irving’s power to describe nature. 15. What do you think - is the finest description in the tale? 16. Pronounce the following: - inapplicable; genius; formidable; patrons; grievous; elm; Herculean; - alternative; horizon; hospitable. - - =Phrases= - - spacious coves, 479, 1 - inveterate propensity, 479, 9 - precise and authentic, 479, 12 - prolonged and reverberated, 479, 24 - pow-wows, 480, 13 - legendary superstition, 481, 5 - great torrent of migration, 481, 19 - genius of famine, 482, 11 - cruel potentates, 482, 34 - comforts of the cupboard, 483, 13 - dilating powers of an anaconda, 483, 18 - legitimately descended, 484, 11 - direful omens, 486, 3 - curdling awe, 486, 19 - sumptuous promise, 488, 13 - utensils of husbandry, 489, 9 - labyrinth of whims, 490, 6 - rantipole hero, 491, 10 - obstinately pacific system, 493, 3 - early emancipation, 494, 19 - culinary abundance, 496, 5 - sequestered situation, 500, 27 - ill-starred, 503, 18 - diligent investigation, 507, 5 - forthwith consigned, 507, 25 - - -THE GREAT STONE FACE - -NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE - -One afternoon, when the sun was going down, a mother and her little boy -sat at the door of their cottage, talking about the Great Stone Face. -They had but to lift their eyes, and there it was plainly to be seen, -though miles away, with the sunshine brightening all its features. - -And what was the Great Stone Face? - -Embosomed amongst a family of lofty mountains, there was a valley so -spacious that it contained many thousand inhabitants. Some of these good -people dwelt in log-huts, with the black forest all around them, on the -steep and difficult hillsides. Others had their homes in comfortable -farmhouses, and cultivated the rich soil on the gentle slopes or level -surfaces of the valley. Others, again, were congregated into populous -villages, where some wild, highland rivulet, tumbling down from its -birthplace in the upper mountain region, had been caught and tamed by -human cunning, and compelled to turn the machinery of cotton-factories. -The inhabitants of this valley, in short, were numerous, and of many -modes of life. But all of them, grown people and children, had a kind of -familiarity with the Great Stone Face, although some possessed the gift -of distinguishing this grand natural phenomenon more perfectly than many -of their neighbors. - -The Great Stone Face, then, was a work of Nature in her mood of majestic -playfulness, formed on the perpendicular side of a mountain by some -immense rocks, which had been thrown together in such a position as, when -viewed at a proper distance, precisely to resemble the features of the -human countenance. It seemed as if an enormous giant, or a Titan, had -sculptured his own likeness on the precipice. There was the broad arch of -the forehead, a hundred feet in height; the nose, with its long bridge; -and the vast lips, which, if they could have spoken, would have rolled -their thunder accents from one end of the valley to the other. True it -is, that if the spectator approached too near, he lost the outline of the -gigantic visage, and could discern only a heap of ponderous and gigantic -rocks, piled in chaotic ruin one upon another. Retracing his steps, -however, the wondrous features would again be seen; and the farther he -withdrew from them, the more like a human face, with all its original -divinity intact, did they appear; until, as it grew dim in the distance, -with the clouds and glorified vapor of the mountains clustering about it, -the Great Stone Face seemed positively to be alive. - -It was a happy lot for children to grow up to manhood or womanhood with -the Great Stone Face before their eyes, for all the features were noble, -and the expression was at once grand and sweet, as if it were the glow -of a vast, warm heart, that embraced all mankind in its affections, and -had room for more. It was an education only to look at it. According to -the belief of many people, the valley owed much of its fertility to this -benign aspect that was continually beaming over it, illuminating the -clouds, and infusing its tenderness into the sunshine. - -As we began with saying, a mother and her little boy sat at their -cottage-door, gazing at the Great Stone Face, and talking about it. The -child’s name was Ernest. - -“Mother,” said he, while the Titanic visage smiled on him, “I wish that -it could speak, for it looks so very kindly that its voice must needs -be pleasant. If I were to see a man with such a face, I should love him -dearly.” - -“If an old prophecy should come to pass,” answered his mother, “we may -see a man, some time or other, with exactly such a face as that.” - -“What prophecy do you mean, dear mother?” eagerly inquired Ernest. “Pray -tell me all about it!” - -So his mother told him a story that her own mother had told to her, when -she herself was younger than little Ernest; a story, not of things that -were past, but of what was yet to come; a story, nevertheless, so very -old, that even the Indians, who formerly inhabited this valley, had -heard it from their forefathers, to whom, as they affirmed, it had been -murmured by the mountain streams, and whispered by the wind among the -tree-tops. The purport was, that, at some future day, a child should -be born hereabouts, who was destined to become the greatest and noblest -personage of his time, and whose countenance, in manhood, should bear -an exact resemblance to the Great Stone Face. Not a few old-fashioned -people, and young ones likewise, in the ardor of their hopes, still -cherished an enduring faith in this old prophecy. But others, who had -seen more of the world, had watched and waited till they were weary, and -had beheld no man with such a face, nor any man that proved to be much -greater or nobler than his neighbors, concluded it to be nothing but -an idle tale. At all events, the great man of the prophecy had not yet -appeared. - -“O mother, dear mother!” cried Ernest, clapping his hands above his head, -“I do hope that I shall live to see him!” - -His mother was an affectionate and thoughtful woman, and felt that it was -wisest not to discourage the generous hopes of her little boy. So she -only said to him, “Perhaps you may.” - -And Ernest never forgot the story that his mother told him. It was always -in his mind, whenever he looked upon the Great Stone Face. He spent -his childhood in the log-cottage where he was born, and was dutiful -to his mother, and helpful to her in many things, assisting her much -with his little hands, and more, with his loving heart. In this manner, -from a happy yet often pensive child, he grew up to be a mild, quiet, -unobtrusive boy, and sun-browned with labor in the fields, but with more -intelligence brightening his aspect than is seen in many lads who have -been taught at famous schools. Yet Ernest had had no teacher, save only -that the Great Stone Face became one to him. When the toil of the day -was over, he would gaze at it for hours, until he began to imagine that -those vast features recognized him, and gave him a smile of kindness and -encouragement, responsive to his own look of veneration. We must not take -upon us to affirm that this was a mistake, although the Face may have -looked no more kindly at Ernest than at all the world besides. But the -secret was that the boy’s tender and confiding simplicity discerned what -other people could not see; and thus the love, which was meant for all, -became his peculiar portion. - -About this time there went a rumor throughout the valley, that the -great man, foretold from ages long ago, who was to bear a resemblance to -the Great Stone Face, had appeared at last. It seems that, many years -before, a young man had migrated from the valley and settled at a distant -seaport, where, after getting together a little money, he had set up as a -shopkeeper. His name—but I could never learn whether it was his real one, -or a nickname that had grown out of his habits and success in life—was -Gathergold. Being shrewd and active, and endowed by Providence with that -inscrutable faculty which develops itself in what the world calls luck, -he became an exceedingly rich merchant, and owner of a whole fleet of -bulky-bottomed ships. All the countries of the globe appeared to join -hands for the mere purpose of adding heap after heap to the mountainous -accumulation of this one man’s wealth. The cold regions of the north, -almost within the gloom and shadow of the Arctic Circle, sent him their -tribute in the shape of furs; hot Africa sifted for him the golden sands -of her rivers, and gathered up the ivory tusks of her great elephants out -of the forests; the East came bringing him the rich shawls, and spices, -and teas, and the effulgence of diamonds, and the gleaming purity of -large pearls. The ocean, not to be behind-hand with the earth, yielded -up her mighty whales, that Mr. Gathergold might sell their oil, and make -a profit on it. Be the original commodity what it might, it was gold -within his grasp. It might be said of him, as of Midas in the fable, -that whatever he touched with his finger immediately glistened, and grew -yellow, and was changed at once into sterling metal, or, which suited him -still better, into piles of coin. And, when Mr. Gathergold had become so -very rich that it would have taken him a hundred years only to count his -wealth, he bethought himself of his native valley, and resolved to go -back thither, and end his days where he was born. With this purpose in -view, he sent a skillful architect to build him such a palace as should -be fit for a man of his vast wealth to live in. - -As I have said above, it had already been rumored in the valley that -Mr. Gathergold had turned out to be the prophetic personage so long and -vainly looked for, and that his visage was the perfect and undeniable -similitude of the Great Stone Face. People were the more ready to -believe that this must needs be the fact, when they beheld the splendid -edifice that rose, as if by enchantment, on the site of his father’s -old weatherbeaten farmhouse. The exterior was of marble, so dazzlingly -white that it seemed as though the whole structure might melt away in -the sunshine, like those humbler ones which Mr. Gathergold, in his -young play-days, before his fingers were gifted with the touch of -transmutation, had been accustomed to build of snow. It had a richly -ornamented portico, supported by tall pillars, beneath which was a lofty -door, studded with silver knobs, and made of a kind of variegated wood -that had been brought from beyond the sea. The windows, from the floor to -the ceiling of each stately apartment, were composed, respectively, of -but one enormous pane of glass, so transparently pure that it was said -to be a finer medium than even the vacant atmosphere. Hardly anybody had -been permitted to see the interior of this palace; but it was reported, -and with good semblance of truth, to be far more gorgeous than the -outside, insomuch that whatever was iron or brass in other houses was -silver or gold in this; and Mr. Gathergold’s bedchamber, especially, made -such a glittering appearance that no ordinary man would have been able to -close his eyes there. But, on the other hand, Mr. Gathergold was now so -inured to wealth, that perhaps he could not have closed his eyes unless -where the gleam of it was certain to find its way beneath his eyelids. - -In due time, the mansion was finished; next came the upholsterers, with -magnificent furniture; then, a whole troop of black and white servants, -the harbingers of Mr. Gathergold, who, in his own majestic person, was -expected to arrive at sunset. Our friend Ernest, meanwhile, had been -deeply stirred by the idea that the great man, the noble man, the man of -prophecy, after so many ages of delay, was at length to be made manifest -to his native valley. He knew, boy as he was, that there were a thousand -ways in which Mr. Gathergold, with his vast wealth, might transform -himself into an angel of beneficence, and assume a control over human -affairs as wide and benignant as the smile of the Great Stone Face. -Full of faith and hope, Ernest doubted not that what the people said -was true, and that now he was to behold the living likeness of those -wondrous features on the mountain-side. While the boy was still gazing -up the valley, and fancying, as he always did, that the Great Stone Face -returned his gaze and looked kindly at him, the rumbling of wheels was -heard, approaching swiftly along the winding road. - -“Here he comes!” cried a group of people who were assembled to witness -the arrival. “Here comes the great Mr. Gathergold!” - -A carriage, drawn by four horses, dashed round the turn of the road. -Within it, thrust partly out of the window, appeared the physiognomy -of the old man, with a skin as yellow as if his own Midas-hand had -transmuted it. He had a low forehead, small, sharp eyes, puckered about -with innumerable wrinkles, and very thin lips, which he made still -thinner by pressing them forcibly together. - -“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!” - -And, what greatly perplexed Ernest, they seemed actually to believe that -here was the likeness which they spoke of. By the roadside there chanced -to be an old beggar-woman and two little beggar-children, stragglers -from some far-off region, who, as the carriage rolled onward, held out -their hands and lifted up their doleful voices, most piteously beseeching -charity. A yellow claw—the very same that had clawed together so much -wealth—poked itself out of the coach-window, and dropped some copper -coins upon the ground; so that, though the great man’s name seems to -have been Gathergold, he might just as suitably have been nicknamed -Scattercopper. Still, nevertheless, with an earnest shout, and with as -much good faith as ever, the people bellowed— - -“He is the very image of the Great Stone Face!” - -But Ernest turned sadly from the wrinkled shrewdness of that sordid -visage, and gazed up the valley, where, amid a gathering mist, gilded by -the last sunbeams, he could still distinguish those glorious features -which had impressed themselves into his soul. Their aspect cheered him. -What did the benign lips seem 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 attracted little notice from the other inhabitants of -the valley; for they saw nothing remarkable in his way of life, save -that, when the labor of the day was over, he still loved to go apart and -gaze and meditate upon the Great Stone Face. According to their idea of -the matter, it was a folly, indeed, but pardonable, inasmuch as Ernest -was industrious, kind, and neighborly, and neglected no duty for the sake -of indulging this idle habit. They knew not that the Great Stone Face -had become a teacher to him, and that the sentiment which was expressed -in it would enlarge the young man’s heart, and fill it with wider and -deeper sympathies than other hearts. They knew not that thence would come -a better wisdom than could be learned from books, and a better life than -could be molded on the defaced example of other human lives. Neither -did Ernest know that the thoughts and affections which came to him so -naturally, in the fields and at the fireside, and wherever he communed -with himself, were of a higher tone than those which all men shared with -him. A simple soul—simple as when his mother first taught him the old -prophecy—he beheld the marvelous features beaming adown the valley, and -still wondered that their human counterpart was so long in making his -appearance. - -By this time poor Mr. Gathergold was dead and buried; and the oddest part -of the matter was that his wealth, which was the body and spirit of his -existence, had disappeared before his death, leaving nothing of him but -a living skeleton, covered over with a wrinkled, yellow skin. Since the -melting away of his gold, it had been very generally conceded that there -was no such striking resemblance, after all, betwixt the ignoble features -of the ruined merchant and that majestic face upon the mountain-side. So -the people ceased to honor him during his lifetime, and quietly consigned -him to forgetfulness after his decease. Once in a while, it is true, his -memory was brought up in connection with the magnificent palace which -he had built, and which had long ago been turned into a hotel for the -accommodation of strangers, multitudes of whom came, every summer, to -visit that famous natural curiosity, the Great Stone Face. Thus, Mr. -Gathergold being discredited and thrown into the shade, the man of -prophecy was yet to come. - -It so happened that a native-born son of the valley, many years before, -had enlisted as a soldier, and, after a great deal of hard fighting, -had now become an illustrious commander. Whatever he may be called in -history, he was known in camps and on the battlefield under the nickname -of Old Blood-and-Thunder. This war-worn veteran, being now infirm with -age and wounds, and weary of the turmoil of a military life, and of the -roll of the drum and the clangor of the trumpet, that had so long; been -ringing in his ears, had lately signified a purpose of returning to his -native valley, hoping to find repose where he remembered to have left -it. The inhabitants, his old neighbors and their grown-up children, were -resolved to welcome the renowned warrior with a salute of cannon and -a public dinner; and all the more enthusiastically, it being affirmed -that now, at last, the likeness of the Great Stone Face had actually -appeared. An aid-de-camp of Old Blood-and-Thunder, traveling through -the valley, was said to have been struck with the resemblance. Moreover -the school-mates and early acquaintances of the general were ready to -testify, on oath, that, to the best of their recollection, the aforesaid -general had been exceedingly like the majestic image, even when a boy, -only that the idea had never occurred to them at that period. Great, -therefore, was the excitement throughout the valley; and many people, -who had never once thought of glancing at the Great Stone Face for years -before, now spent their time in gazing at it, for the sake of knowing -exactly how General Blood-and-Thunder looked. - -On the day of the great festival, Ernest and all the other people of -the valley left their work, and proceeded to the spot where the sylvan -banquet was prepared. As he approached, the loud voice of the Rev. Dr. -Battleblast was heard, beseeching a blessing on the good things set -before them, and on the distinguished friend of peace in whose honor they -were assembled. The tables were arranged in a cleared space of the woods, -shut in by the surrounding trees, except where a vista opened eastward, -and afforded a distant view of the Great Stone Face. Over the general’s -chair, which was a relic from the home of Washington, there was an arch -of verdant boughs, with the laurel profusely intermixed, and surmounted -by his country’s banner, beneath which he had won his victories. Our -friend Ernest raised himself on his tiptoes, in hopes to get a glimpse -of the celebrated guest; but there was a mighty crowd about the tables -anxious to hear the toasts and speeches, and to catch any word that might -fall from the general in reply; and a volunteer company, doing duty as a -guard, pricked ruthlessly with their bayonets at any particularly quiet -person among the throng. So Ernest, being of an unobtrusive character, -was thrust quite into the background, where he could see no more of Old -Blood-and-Thunder’s physiognomy than if it had been still blazing on -the battlefield. To console himself, he turned towards the Great Stone -Face, which, like a faithful and long-remembered friend, looked back and -smiled upon him through the vista of the forest. Meanwhile, however, he -could overhear the remarks of various individuals, who were comparing the -features of the hero with the face on the distant mountain-side. - -“’Tis the same face, to a hair!” cried one man, cutting a caper for joy. - -“Wonderfully like, that’s a fact!” responded another. - -“Like! why, I call it Old Blood-and-Thunder himself, in a monstrous -looking-glass!” cried a third. “And why not? He’s the greatest man of -this or any other age, beyond a doubt.” - -And then all three of the speakers gave a great shout, which communicated -electricity to the crowd, and called forth a roar from a thousand voices, -that went reverberating for miles among the mountains, until you might -have supposed that the Great Stone Face had poured its thunder-breath -into the cry. All these comments, and this vast enthusiasm, served the -more to interest our friend; nor did he think of questioning that now, at -length, the mountain-visage had found its human counterpart. It is true, -Ernest had imagined that this long-looked-for personage would appear -in the character of a man of peace, uttering wisdom, and doing good, -and making people happy. But, taking an habitual breadth of view, with -all his simplicity, he contended that Providence should choose its own -method of blessing mankind, and could conceive that this great end might -be effected even by a warrior and a bloody sword, should inscrutable -wisdom see fit to order matters so. - -“The general! the general!” was now the cry. “Hush! silence! Old -Blood-and-Thunder’s going to make a speech.” - -Even so; for, the cloth being removed, the general’s health had been -drunk, amid shouts of applause, and he now stood upon his feet to -thank the company. Ernest saw him. There he was, over the shoulders -of the crowd, from the two glittering epaulets and embroidered collar -upward, beneath the arch of green boughs with intertwined laurel, and -the banner drooping as if to shade his brow! And there, too, visible in -the same glance, through the vista of the forest, appeared the Great -Stone Face! And was there, indeed, such a resemblance as the crowd had -testified? Alas, Ernest could not recognize it! He beheld a war-worn and -weatherbeaten countenance, full of energy, and expressive of an iron -will; but the gentle wisdom, the deep, broad, tender sympathies, were -altogether wanting in Old Blood-and-Thunder’s visage; and even if the -Great Stone Face had assumed his look of stern command, the milder traits -would still have tempered it. - -“This is not the man of prophecy,” sighed Ernest to himself, as he made -his way out of the throng. “And must the world wait longer yet?” - -The mists had congregated about the distant mountain-side, and there -were seen the grand and awful features of the Great Stone Face, awful -but benignant, as if a mighty angel were sitting among the hills, and -enrobing himself in a cloud-vesture of gold and purple. As he looked, -Ernest could hardly believe but that a smile beamed over the whole -visage, with a radiance still brightening, although without motion of the -lips. It was probably the effect of the western sunshine, melting through -the thinly diffused vapors that had swept between him and the object that -he gazed at. But—as it always did—the aspect of his marvelous friend made -Ernest as hopeful as if he had never hoped in vain. - -“Fear not, Ernest,” said his heart, even as if the Great Face were -whispering him—“fear not, Ernest; he will come.” - -More years sped swiftly and tranquilly away. Ernest still dwelt in his -native valley, and was now a man of middle age. By imperceptible degrees, -he had become known among the people. Now, as heretofore, he labored for -his bread, and was the same simple-hearted man that he had always been. -But he had thought and felt so much, he had given so many of the best -hours of his life to unworldly hopes for some great good to mankind, that -it seemed as though he had been talking with the angels, and had imbibed -a portion of their wisdom unawares. It was visible in the calm and -well-considered beneficence of his daily life, the quiet stream of which -had made a wide green margin all along its course. Not a day passed by, -that the world was not the better because this man, humble as he was, had -lived. He never stepped aside from his own path, yet would always reach -a blessing to his neighbor. Almost involuntarily, too, he had become a -preacher. The pure and high simplicity of his thought, which, as one of -its manifestations, took shape in the good deeds that dropped silently -from his hand, flowed also forth in speech. He uttered truths that -wrought upon and molded the lives of those who heard him. His auditors, -it may be, never suspected that Ernest, their own neighbor and familiar -friend, was more than an ordinary man; least of all did Ernest himself -suspect it; but, inevitably as the murmur of a rivulet, came thoughts out -of his mouth that no other human lips had spoken. - -When the people’s minds had had a little time to cool, they were ready -enough to acknowledge their mistake in imagining a similarity between -General Blood-and-Thunder’s truculent physiognomy and the benign visage -on the mountain-side. But now, again, there were reports and many -paragraphs in the newspapers, affirming that the likeness of the Great -Stone Face had appeared upon the broad shoulders of a certain eminent -statesman. He, like Mr. Gathergold and Old Blood-and-Thunder, was a -native of the valley, but had left it in his early days, and taken up -the trades of law and politics. Instead of the rich man’s wealth and -the warrior’s sword, he had but a tongue, and it was mightier than both -together. So wonderfully eloquent was he, that whatever he might choose -to say, his auditors had no choice but to believe him; wrong looked -like right, and right like wrong; for when it pleased him, he could make -a kind of illuminated fog with his mere breath, and obscure the natural -daylight with it. His tongue, indeed, was a magic instrument: sometimes -it rumbled like the thunder; sometimes it warbled like the sweetest -music. It was the blast of war—the song of peace; and it seemed to have -a heart in it, when there was no such matter. In good truth, he was a -wondrous man; and when his tongue had acquired him all other imaginable -success—when it had been heard in halls of state, and in the courts of -princes and potentates—after it had made him known all over the world, -even as a voice crying from shore to shore—it finally persuaded his -countrymen to select him for the Presidency. Before this time—indeed, -as soon as he began to grow celebrated—his admirers had found out the -resemblance between him and the Great Stone Face; and so much were they -struck by it, that throughout the country this distinguished gentleman -was known by the name of Old Stony Phiz. The phrase was considered as -giving a highly favorable aspect to his political prospects; for, as is -likewise the case with the Popedom, nobody ever becomes President without -taking a name other than his own. - -While his friends were doing their best to make him President, Old Stony -Phiz, as he was called, set out on a visit to the valley where he was -born. Of course, he had no other object than to shake hands with his -fellow-citizens, and neither thought nor cared about any effect which his -progress through the country might have upon the election. Magnificent -preparations were made to receive the illustrious statesman; a cavalcade -of horsemen set forth to meet him at the boundary line of the State, and -all the people left their business and gathered along the wayside so to -see him pass. Among these was Ernest. Though more than once disappointed, -as we have seen, he had such a hopeful and confiding nature that he was -always ready to believe in whatever seemed beautiful and good. He kept -his heart continually open, and thus was sure to catch the blessing from -on high when it should come. So now again, as buoyantly as ever, he went -forth to behold the likeness of the Great Stone Face. - -The cavalcade came prancing along the road, with a great clattering of -hoofs and a mighty cloud of dust, which rose up so dense and high that -the visage of the mountain-side was completely hidden from Ernest’s -eyes. All the great men of the neighborhood were there on horseback; -militia officers, in uniform; the member of Congress; the sheriff of the -county; the editors of newspapers; and many a farmer, too, had mounted -his patient steed, with his Sunday coat upon his back. It really was -a very brilliant spectacle, especially as there were numerous banners -flaunting over the cavalcade, on some of which were gorgeous portraits of -the illustrious statesman and the Great Stone Face, smiling familiarly -at one another, like two brothers. If the pictures were to be trusted, -the mutual resemblance, it must be confessed, was marvelous. We must -not forget to mention that there was a band of music, which made the -echoes of the mountains ring and reverberate with the loud triumph of its -strains; so that airy and soul-thrilling melodies broke out among all the -heights and hollows, as if every nook of his native valley had found a -voice, to welcome the distinguished guest. But the grandest effect was -when the far-off mountain precipice flung back the music; for then the -Great Stone Face itself seemed to be swelling the triumphant chorus, in -acknowledgment that, at length, the man of prophecy was come. - -All this while the people were throwing up their hats and shouting with -enthusiasm so contagious that the heart of Ernest kindled up, and he -likewise threw up his hat, and shouted, as loudly as the loudest, “Huzza -for the great man! Huzza for Old Stony Phiz!” But as yet he had not seen -him. - -“Here he is, now!” cried those who stood near Ernest. “There! There! Look -at Old Stony Phiz and then at the Old Man of the Mountain, and see if -they are not as like as two twin-brothers!” - -In the midst of all this gallant array came an open barouche, drawn by -four white horses; and in the barouche, with his massive head uncovered, -sat the illustrious statesman, Old Stony Phiz himself. - -“Confess it,” said one of Ernest’s neighbors to him, “the Great Stone -Face has met its match at last!” - -Now, it must be owned that, at his first glimpse of the countenance -which was bowing and smiling from the barouche, Ernest did fancy that -there was a resemblance between it and the old familiar face upon the -mountain-side. The brow, with its massive depth and loftiness, and all -the other features, indeed, were boldly and strongly hewn, as if in -emulation of a more than heroic, of a Titanic model. But the sublimity -and stateliness, the grand expression of a divine sympathy, that -illuminated the mountain visage and etherealized its ponderous granite -substance into spirit, might here be sought in vain. Something had been -originally left out, or had departed. And therefore the marvelously -gifted statesman had always a weary gloom in the deep caverns of his -eyes, as of a child that has outgrown its playthings or a man of mighty -faculties and little aims, whose life, with all its high performances, -was vague and empty, because no high purpose had endowed it with reality. - -Still, Ernest’s neighbor was thrusting his elbow into his side, and -pressing him for an answer. - -“Confess! confess! Is not he the very picture of your Old Man of the -Mountain?” - -“No!” said Ernest, bluntly, “I see little or no likeness.” - -“Then so much the worse for the Great Stone Face!” answered his neighbor; -and again he set up a shout for Old Stony Phiz. - -But Ernest turned away, melancholy, and almost despondent; for this -was the saddest of his disappointments, to behold a man who might have -fulfilled the prophecy, and had not willed to do so. Meantime, the -cavalcade, the banners, the music, and the barouches swept past him, with -the vociferous crowd in the rear, leaving the dust to settle down, and -the Great Stone Face to be revealed again, with the grandeur that it had -worn for untold centuries. - -“Lo, here I am, Ernest!” the benign lips seemed to say. “I have waited -longer than thou, and am not yet weary. Fear not; the man will come.” - -The years hurried onward, treading in their haste on one another’s heels. -And now they began to bring white hairs, and scatter them over the head -of Ernest; they made reverend wrinkles across his forehead, and furrows -in his cheeks. He was an aged man. But not in vain had he grown old: -more than the white hairs on his head were the sage thoughts in his mind; -his wrinkles and furrows were inscriptions that Time had graved, and in -which he had written legends of wisdom that had been tested by the tenor -of a life. And Ernest had ceased to be obscure. Unsought for, undesired, -had come the fame which so many seek, and made him known in the great -world, beyond the limits of the valley in which he had dwelt so quietly. -College professors, and even the active men of cities, came from far -to see and converse with Ernest; for the report had gone abroad that -this simple husbandman had ideas unlike those of other men, not gained -from books, but of a higher tone—a tranquil and familiar majesty, as if -he had been talking with the angels as his daily friends. Whether it -were sage, statesman, or philanthropist, Ernest received these visitors -with the gentle sincerity that had characterized him from boyhood, and -spoke freely with them of whatever came uppermost, or lay deepest in his -heart or their own. While they talked together, his face would kindle, -unawares, and shine upon them, as with a mild evening light. Pensive -with the fulness of such discourse, his guests took leave and went their -way; and passing up the valley, paused to look at the Great Stone Face, -imagining that they had seen its likeness in a human countenance, but -could not remember where. - -While Ernest had been growing up and growing old, a bountiful Providence -had granted a new poet to this earth. He, likewise, was a native of the -valley, but had spent the greater part of his life at a distance from -that romantic region, pouring out his sweet music amid the bustle and -din of cities. Often, however, did the mountains which had been familiar -to him in his childhood lift their snowy peaks into the clear atmosphere -of his poetry. Neither was the Great Stone Face forgotten, for the poet -had celebrated it in an ode, which was grand enough to have been uttered -by its own majestic lips. This man of genius, we may say, had come down -from heaven with wonderful endowments. If he sang of a mountain, the -eyes of all mankind beheld a mightier grandeur reposing on its breast, -or soaring to its summit, than had before been seen there. If his theme -were a lovely lake, a celestial smile had now been thrown over it, to -gleam forever on its surface. If it were the vast old sea, even the deep -immensity of its dread bosom seemed to swell the higher, as if moved by -the emotions of the song. Thus the world assumed another and a better -aspect from the hour that the poet blessed it with his happy eyes. The -Creator had bestowed him, as the last best touch to his own handiwork. -Creation was not finished till the poet came to interpret, and so -complete it. - -The effect was no less high and beautiful, when his human brethren were -the subject of his verse. The man or woman, sordid with the common dust -of life, who crossed his daily path, and the little child who played in -it, were glorified if he beheld them in his mood of poetic faith. He -showed the golden links of the great chain that intertwined them with -an angelic kindred; he brought out the hidden traits of a celestial -birth that made them worthy of such kin. Some, indeed, there were, who -thought to show the soundness of their judgment by affirming that all -the beauty and dignity of the natural world existed only in the poet’s -fancy. Let such men speak for themselves, who undoubtedly appear to have -been spawned forth by Nature with a contemptuous bitterness; she having -plastered them up out of her refuse stuff, after all the swine were made. -As respects all things else, the poet’s ideal was the truest truth. - -The songs of this poet found their way to Ernest. He read them after his -customary toil, seated on the bench before his cottage-door, where for -such a length of time he had filled his repose with thought, by gazing at -the Great Stone Face. And now as he read stanzas that caused the soul to -thrill within him, he lifted his eyes to the vast countenance beaming on -him so benignantly. - -“O majestic friend,” he murmured, addressing the Great Stone Face, “is -not this man worthy to resemble thee?” - -The Face seemed to smile, but answered not a word. - -Now it happened that the poet, though he dwelt so far away, had not only -heard of Ernest, but had meditated much upon his character, until he -deemed nothing so desirable as to meet this man, whose untaught wisdom -walked hand in hand with the noble simplicity of his life. One summer -morning, therefore, he took passage by the railroad, and, in the decline -of the afternoon, alighted from the cars at no great distance from -Ernest’s cottage. The great hotel, which had formerly been the palace -of Mr. Gathergold, was close at hand, but the poet, with his carpetbag -on his arm, inquired at once where Ernest dwelt, and was resolved to be -accepted as his guest. - -Approaching the door, he there found the good old man, holding a volume -in his hand, which alternately he read, and then, with a finger between -the leaves, looked lovingly at the Great Stone Face. - -“Good evening,” said the poet. “Can you give a traveler a night’s -lodging?” - -“Willingly,” answered Ernest; and then he added, smiling, “Methinks I -never saw the Great Stone Face look so hospitably at a stranger.” - -The poet sat down on the bench beside him, and he and Ernest talked -together. Often had the poet held intercourse with the wittiest and -the wisest but never before with a man like Ernest, whose thoughts and -feelings gushed up with such a natural freedom, and who made great truths -so familiar by his simple utterance of them. Angels, as had been so often -said, seemed to have wrought with him at his labor in the fields; angels -seemed to have sat with him by the fireside; and, dwelling with angels -as friend with friends, he had imbibed the sublimity of their ideas, -and imbued it with the sweet and lowly charm of household words. So -thought the poet. And Ernest, on the other hand, was moved and agitated -by the living images which the poet flung out of his mind, and which -peopled all the air about the cottage-door with shapes of beauty, both -gay and pensive. The sympathies of these two men instructed them with -a profounder sense than either could have attained alone. Their minds -accorded into one strain, and made delightful music which neither of -them could have claimed as all his own, nor distinguished his own share -from the other’s. They led one another, as it were, into a high pavilion -of their thoughts, so remote, and hitherto so dim, that they had never -entered it before, and so beautiful that they desired to be there always. - -As Ernest listened to the poet, he imagined that the Great Stone Face was -bending forward to listen too. He gazed earnestly into the poet’s glowing -eyes. - -“Who are you, my strangely gifted guest?” he said. - -The poet laid his finger on the volume that Ernest had been reading. - -“You have read these poems,” said he. “You know me, then, for I wrote -them.” - -Again, and still more earnestly than before, Ernest examined the poet’s -features; then turned towards the Great Stone Face; then back, with an -uncertain aspect, to his guest. But his countenance fell; he shook his -head, and sighed. - -“Wherefore are you sad?” inquired the poet. - -“Because,” replied Ernest, “all through life I have awaited the -fulfilment of a prophecy; and, when I read these poems, I hoped that it -might be fulfilled in you.” - -“You hoped,” answered the poet, faintly smiling, “to find in me the -likeness of the Great Stone Face. And you are disappointed, as formerly -with Mr. Gathergold, and Old Blood-and-Thunder, and Old Stony Phiz. Yes, -Ernest, it is my doom. You must add my name to the illustrious three, and -record another failure of your hopes. For—in shame and sadness do I speak -it, Ernest—I am not worthy to be typified by yonder benign and majestic -image.” - -“And why?” asked Ernest. He pointed to the volume. “Are not those -thoughts divine?” - -“They have a strain of the Divinity,” replied the poet. “You can hear -in them the far-off echo of a heavenly song. But my life, dear Ernest, -has not corresponded with my thought. I have had grand dreams, but they -have been only dreams, because I have lived—and that, too, by my own -choice—among poor and mean realities. Sometimes even—shall I dare to say -it?—I lack faith in the grandeur, the beauty, and the goodness, which my -own works are said to have made more evident in nature and in human life. -Why, then, pure seeker of the good and true, shouldst thou hope to find -me, in yonder image of the divine?” - -The poet spoke sadly, and his eyes were dim with tears. So, likewise, -were those of Ernest. - -At the hour of sunset, as had long been his frequent custom, Ernest was -to discourse to an assemblage of the neighboring inhabitants in the open -air. He and the poet, arm in arm, still talking together as they went -along, proceeded to the spot. It was a small nook among the hills, with -a gray precipice behind, the stern front of which was relieved by the -pleasant foliage of many creeping plants that made a tapestry for the -naked rock, by hanging their festoons from all its rugged angles. At a -small elevation above the ground, set in a rich framework of verdure, -there appeared a niche, spacious enough to admit a human figure, with -freedom for such gestures as spontaneously accompany earnest thought -and genuine emotion. Into this natural pulpit Ernest ascended, and -threw a look of familiar kindness around upon his audience. They stood, -or sat, or reclined upon the grass, as seemed good to each, with the -departing sunshine falling obliquely over them, and mingling its subdued -cheerfulness with the solemnity of a grove of ancient trees, beneath and -amid the boughs of which the golden rays were constrained to pass. In -another direction was seen the Great Stone Face, with the same cheer, -combined with the same solemnity, in its benignant aspect. - -Ernest began to speak, giving to the people of what was in his heart -and mind. His words had power, because they accorded with his thoughts; -and his thoughts had reality and depth, because they harmonized with -the life which he had always lived. It was not mere breath that this -preacher uttered; they were the words of life, because a life of good -deeds and holy love was melted into them. Pearls, pure and rich, had been -dissolved into this precious draught. The poet, as he listened, felt that -the being and character of Ernest were a nobler strain of poetry than he -had ever written. His eyes glistening with tears, he gazed reverentially -at the venerable man, and said within himself that never was there an -aspect so worthy of a prophet and a sage as that mild, sweet, thoughtful -countenance, with the glory of white hair diffused about it. At a -distance, but distinctly to be seen, high up in the golden light of the -setting sun, appeared the Great Stone Face, with hoary mists around -it, like the white hairs around the brow of Ernest. Its look of grand -beneficence seemed to embrace the world. - -At that moment, in sympathy with a thought which he was about to utter, -the face of Ernest assumed a grandeur of expression, so imbued with -benevolence, that the poet, by an irresistible impulse, threw his arms -aloft, and shouted— - -“Behold! Behold! Ernest is himself the likeness of the Great Stone Face!” - -Then all the people looked, and saw that what the deep-sighted poet said -was true. The prophecy was fulfilled. But Ernest, having finished what he -had to say, took the poet’s arm, and walked slowly homeward, still hoping -that some wiser and better man than himself would by and by appear, -bearing a resemblance to the Great Stone Face. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 348. - - =Discussion.= 1. What old prophecy did Ernest hope to see fulfilled? - 2. What did he see in the Great Stone Face that influenced him? - 3. What did Gathergold care most for? 4. For what did he use his - wealth? 5. How did Ernest know this? 6. What qualities had won the - soldier his fame? 7. What qualities did he lack? 8. How were his - characteristics revealed? 9. In what way did the statesman fail - to meet comparison with the Great Stone Face? The poet? 10. Which - failure disappointed Ernest most? Why? 11. How do you account for - Ernest’s likeness to the Great Stone Face? 12. How was it that the - poet could see the likeness when everyone else had failed to do so? - 13. What may influence anyone as the Great Stone Face influenced - Ernest? 14. If Gathergold represents riches, what is each of the - other great men intended to represent? 15. Which of the things thus - represented is the greatest? 16. What does Ernest represent? 17. - What does the Great Stone Face represent? 18. Contrast Gathergold’s - treatment of the beggars with the way Ernest felt the Great Stone - Face would have treated them. 19. Apply the principle, that the - life we live is reflected in our features, spirit, and actions, to - Washington and Lincoln. 20. Can you tell Hawthorne’s purpose in - writing this story? 21. Pronounce the following: harbingers; benign; - wounds; beneficence; buoyantly; obliquely; draught. - - =Phrases= - - embosomed amongst, 510, 7 - majestic playfulness, 510, 23 - chaotic ruin, 511, 3 - original divinity intact, 511, 6 - benign aspect, 511, 16 - peculiar portion, 512, 36 - mountainous accumulation, 513, 13 - touch of transmutation, 514, 7 - sylvan banquet, 517, 31 - angelic kindred, 525, 14 - - - - -AMERICAN LITERATURE OF LIGHTER VEIN - -[Illustration] - - -THE CELEBRATED JUMPING FROG - -MARK TWAIN - -In compliance with the request of a friend of mine, who wrote me from the -East, I called on good-natured, garrulous old Simon Wheeler, and inquired -after my friend’s friend, _Leonidas W._ Smiley, as requested to do, and -I hereunto append the result. I have a lurking suspicion that _Leonidas -W._ Smiley is a myth; that my friend never knew such a personage; and -that he only conjectured that, if I asked old Wheeler about him, it would -remind him of his infamous _Jim_ Smiley, and he would go to work and -bore me nearly to death with some infernal reminiscence of him as long -and tedious as it should be useless to me. If that was the design, it -certainly succeeded. - -I found Simon Wheeler dozing comfortably by the bar-room stove of the -old, dilapidated tavern in the ancient mining camp of Angel’s, and I -noticed that he was fat and bald-headed, and had an expression of winning -gentleness and simplicity upon his tranquil countenance. He roused up and -gave me good-day. I told him a friend of mine had commissioned me to make -some inquiries about a cherished companion of his boyhood named _Leonidas -W._ Smiley—_Rev. Leonidas W._ Smiley—a young minister of the Gospel, who -he had heard was at one time a resident of Angel’s Camp. I added that, -if Mr. Wheeler could tell me anything about this Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley, -I would feel under many obligations to him. - -Simon Wheeler backed me into a corner and blockaded me there with his -chair, and then sat me down and reeled off the monotonous narrative -which follows this paragraph. He never smiled, he never frowned, he -never changed his voice from the gentle-flowing key to which he tuned -the initial sentence, he never betrayed the slightest suspicion of -enthusiasm; but all through the interminable narrative there ran a vein -of impressive earnestness and sincerity, which showed me plainly that, -so far from his imagining that there was anything ridiculous or funny -about his story, he regarded it as a really important matter, and admired -its two heroes as men of transcendent genius in _finesse_. To me, the -spectacle of a man drifting serenely along through such a queer yarn -without ever smiling, was exquisitely absurd. As I said before, I asked -him to tell me what he knew of Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley, and he replied as -follows. I let him go on in his own way, and never interrupted him once: - -There was a feller here once by the name of _Jim_ Smiley, in the winter -of ’49—or maybe it was the spring of ’50—I don’t recollect exactly, -somehow, though what makes me think it was one or the other is because I -remember the big flume wasn’t finished when he first came to the camp; -but any way, he was the curiosest man about always betting on any thing -that turned up you ever see, if he could get anybody to bet on the -other side; and if he couldn’t, he’d change sides. Any way that suited -the other man would suit him—any way just so’s he got a bet, _he_ was -satisfied. But still he was lucky, uncommon lucky; he most always come -out winner. He was always ready and laying for a chance; there couldn’t -be no solit’ry thing mentioned but that feller’d offer to bet on it, -and take any side you please, as I was just telling you. If there was a -horse-race, you’d find him flush or you’d find him busted at the end of -it; if there was a dog-fight, he’d bet on it; if there was a cat-fight, -he’d bet on it; if there was a chicken-fight, he’d bet on it; why, if -there was two birds setting on a fence, he would bet you which one would -fly first; or if there was a camp-meeting, he would be there reg’lar, -to bet on Parson Walker, which he judged to be the best exhorter about -here, and so he was, too, and a good man. If he even seen a straddle-bug -start to go anywheres, he would bet you how long it would take him to -get to wherever he was going to, and if you took him up, he would foller -that straddle-bug to Mexico but what he would find out where he was bound -for and how long he was on the road. Lots of the boys here has seen that -Smiley, and can tell you about him. Why, it never made no difference to -_him_—he would bet on _any_ thing—the dangdest feller. Parson Walker’s -wife laid very sick once, for a good while, and it seemed as if they -warn’t going to save her; but one morning he come in, and Smiley asked -how she was, and he said she was considerable better—thank the Lord for -his inf’nit mercy—and coming on so smart that, with the blessing of -Prov’dence, she’d get well yet; and Smiley, before he thought, says, -“Well, I’ll risk two-and-a-half that she don’t, any way.” - -Thish-yer Smiley had a mare—the boys called her the fifteen-minute nag, -but that was only in fun, you know, because, of course, she was faster -than that—and he used to win money on that horse, for all she was so -slow and always had the asthma, or the distemper, or the consumption, -or something of that kind. They used to give her two or three hundred -yards start, and then pass her under way; but always at the fag-end of -the race she’d get excited and desperate-like, and come cavorting and -straddling up, and scattering her legs around limber, sometimes in the -air, and sometimes out to one side amongst the fences, and kicking up -m-o-r-e dust, and raising m-o-r-e racket with her coughing and sneezing -and blowing her nose—and always fetch up at the stand just about a neck -ahead, as near as you could cipher it down. - -And he had a little small bull pup, that to look at him you’d think he -wan’t worth a cent, but to set around and look ornery, and lay for a -chance to steal something. But as soon as money was up on him, he was -a different dog; his underjaw’d begin to stick out like the fo’castle -of a steamboat, and his teeth would uncover, and shine savage like -the furnaces. And a dog might tackle him, and bully-rag him, and bite -him, and throw him over his shoulder two or three times, and Andrew -Jackson—which was the name of the pup—Andrew Jackson would never let -on but what _he_ was satisfied, and hadn’t expected nothing else—and -the bets being doubled and doubled on the other side all the time, till -the money was all up; and then all of a sudden he would grab that other -dog jest by the j’int of his hind leg and freeze to it—not chaw, you -understand, but only jest grip and hang on till they throwed up the -sponge, if it was a year. Smiley always come out winner on that pup, till -he harnessed a dog once that didn’t have no hind legs, because they’d -been sawed off by a circular saw, and when the thing had gone along far -enough, and the money was all up, and he come to make a snatch for his -pet holt, he saw in a minute how he’d been imposed on, and how the other -dog had been in the door, so to speak, and he ’peared surprised, and -then he looked sorter discouraged-like, and didn’t try no more to win -the fight, and so he got shucked out bad. He give Smiley a look, as much -as to say his heart was broke, and it was _his_ fault, for putting up a -dog that hadn’t no hind legs for him to take holt of, which was his main -dependence in a fight, and then he limped off a piece and laid down and -died. It was a good pup, was that Andrew Jackson, and would have made -a name for hisself if he’d lived, for the stuff was in him, and he had -genius—I know it, because he hadn’t had no opportunities to speak of, and -it don’t stand to reason that a dog could make such a fight as he could -under them circumstances, if he hadn’t no talent. It always makes me feel -sorry when I think of that last fight of his’n, and the way it turned out. - -Well, thish-yer Smiley had rat-tarriers, and chicken cocks, and tom-cats, -and all them kind of things, till you couldn’t rest, and you couldn’t -fetch nothing for him to bet on but he’d match you. He ketched a frog one -day, and took him home, and said he cal’klated to edercate him; and so he -never done nothing for three months but set in his back yard and learn -that frog to jump. And you bet you he _did_ learn him, too. He’d give him -a little punch behind, and the next minute you’d see that frog whirling -in the air like a doughnut—see him turn one summerset, or maybe a couple, -if he got a good start, and come down flat-footed and all right, like a -cat. He got him up so in the matter of catching flies, and kept him in -practice so constant, that he’d nail a fly every time as far as he could -see him. Smiley said all a frog wanted was education, and he could do -most any thing—and I believe him. Why, I’ve seen him set Dan’l Webster -down here on this floor—Dan’l Webster was the name of the frog—and sing -out, “Flies, Dan’l, flies!” and quicker’n you could wink, he’d spring -straight up, and snake a fly off’n the counter there, and flop down on -the floor again as solid as a gob of mud, and fall to scratching the side -of his head with his hind foot as indifferent as if he hadn’t no idea -he’d been doin’ any more’n any frog might do. You never see a frog so -modest and straightforward as he was, for all he was so gifted. And when -it come to fair and square jumping on a dead level, he could get over -more ground at one straddle than any animal of his breed you ever see. -Jumping on a dead level was his strong suit, you understand; and when -it come to that, Smiley would ante up money on him as long as he had a -red. Smiley was monstrous proud of that frog, and well he might be, for -fellers that had traveled and been everywheres, all said he laid over any -frog that ever _they_ see. - -Well, Smiley kept the beast in a little lattice box, and he used to fetch -him down town sometimes and lay for a bet. One day a feller—a stranger in -the camp, he was—come across him with his box, and says: - -“What might it be that you’ve got in the box?” - -And Smiley says, sorter indifferent like, “It might be a parrot, or it -might be a canary, maybe, but it an’t—it’s only just a frog.” - -And the feller took it and looked at it careful, and turned it round this -way and that, and says, “H’m—so ’tis. Well, what’s _he_ good for?” - -“Well,” Smiley says, easy and careless, “He’s good enough for _one_ -thing, I should judge—he can outjump any frog in Calaveras county.” - -The feller took the box again, and took another long, particular look, -and give it back to Smiley, and says, very deliberate, “Well, I don’t see -no p’ints about that frog that’s any better’n any other frog.” - -“Maybe you don’t,” Smiley says. “Maybe you understand frogs, and maybe -you don’t understand ’em; maybe you’ve had experience, and maybe you an’t -only a amature, as it were. Anyways, I’ve got _my_ opinion, and I’ll risk -forty dollars that he can outjump any frog in Calaveras county.” - -And the feller studied a minute, and then says, kinder sad like, “Well, -I’m only a stranger here, and I ain’t got no frog; but if I had a frog, -I’d bet you.” - -And then Smiley says, “That’s all right—that’s all right—if you’ll hold -my box a minute, I’ll go and get you a frog.” And so the feller took the -box, and put up his forty dollars along with Smiley’s, and set down to -wait. - -So he set there a good while thinking and thinking to hisself and then he -got the frog out and prized his mouth open and took a teaspoon and filled -him full of quail shot—filled him pretty near up to his chin—and set him -on the floor. Smiley he went to the swamp and slopped around in the mud -for a long time, and finally he ketched a frog, and fetched him in, and -give him to this feller, and says: - -“Now, if you’re ready, set him alongside of Dan’l, with his forepaws -just even with Dan’l, and I’ll give the word.” Then he says, -“One—two—three—jump!” and him and the feller touched up the frogs from -behind, and the new frog hopped off, but Dan’l give a heave, and hysted -up his shoulders—so—like a Frenchman, but it wan’t no use—he couldn’t -budge; he was planted as solid as an anvil, and he couldn’t no more stir -than if he was anchored out. Smiley was a good deal surprised, and he was -disgusted too, but he didn’t have no idea what the matter was, of course. - -The feller took the money and started away; and when he was going out -at the door, he sorter jerked his thumb over his shoulders—this way—at -Dan’l, and says again, very deliberate, “Well, _I_ don’t see no p’ints -about that frog that’s any better’n any other frog.” - -Smiley he stood scratching his head and looking down at Dan’l a long -time, and at last he says, “I do wonder what in the nation that frog -throw’d off for—I wonder if there an’t something the matter with him—he -’pears to look mighty baggy, somehow.” And he ketched Dan’l by the nap -of the neck, and lifted him up and says, “Why, blame my cats, if he -don’t weigh five pound!” and turned him upside down, and he belched out -a double handful of shot. And then he see how it was, and he was the -maddest man—he set the frog down and took out after that feller, but he -never ketched him. And— - -[Here Simon Wheeler heard his name called from the front yard, and got -up to see what was wanted.] And turning to me as he moved away, he said, -“Just set where you are, stranger, and rest easy—I ain’t going to be gone -a second.” - -But, by your leave, I did not think that a continuation of the history of -the enterprising vagabond _Jim_ Smiley would be likely to afford me much -information concerning the Rev. _Leonidas W._ Smiley, and so I started -away. - -At the door I met the sociable Wheeler returning, and he buttonholed me -and recommenced: - -“Well, thish-yer Smiley had a yaller one-eyed cow that didn’t have no -tail, only jest a short stump like a bannanner, and—” - -“Oh, hang Smiley and his afflicted cow!” I muttered, good-naturedly, and -bidding the old gentleman good-day, I departed. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Samuel Langhorne Clemens (1835-1910), better known by - his pen name Mark Twain, is America’s greatest humorous writer. Like - Walt Whitman he was of humble parentage. He was born in the village - of Florida, Missouri, and at the age of four years, moved with his - parents to the river town of Hannibal, which he immortalized in his - two most popular books, _Tom Sawyer_ and _Huckleberry Finn_. He - became a printer and later a pilot on a Mississippi steamboat. For - a few years he served as assistant to his brother who was secretary - of the Territory of Nevada. This brought him in touch with the - gold fields of the West, and he set out to make his fortune in a - mining camp. He found only a very small amount of gold, but his - wonderful experiences in the West furnish the basis of some of his - most popular stories and books, such as “The Celebrated Jumping - Frog” and _Roughing It_. As a newspaper reporter he chose the pen - name Mark Twain, an old river expression, meaning the mark that - registers two (twain) fathoms (twelve feet) of water. His start to - literary fame came with the publication of the story “The Celebrated - Jumping Frog.” Later he traveled through Europe and the Holy Land, - paying his expenses by means of a series of letters describing his - trip, written for a San Francisco newspaper. These letters were - afterward collected in a book called _The Innocents Abroad_, a - delightfully humorous collection of descriptive sketches. For a time - he was part owner and associate editor of the _Buffalo Express_, - but the investment was not profitable and he spent much of his time - on the lecture platform. He died at Redding, Connecticut, in his - seventy-fifth year. - - =Discussion.= 1. What paragraphs in this selection relate the - circumstances under which Simon Wheeler’s reminiscences of Jim - Smiley were told? 2. What were these circumstances? 3. Are all - parts of these introductory paragraphs to be taken seriously? 4. - Does Mark Twain intend to convince his readers that they will find - Simon Wheeler’s narrative “monotonous” and “interminable”? 5. Why - does he call it so? 6. What paragraphs in these reminiscences lead - up to the story of the jumping frog? 7. In whom do these paragraphs - serve to interest the reader? 8. What is this person’s most marked - characteristic? 9. What illustrations of this characteristic are - given? 10. Did you enjoy reading this selection? 11. Can you tell - what made it enjoyable? 12. Pronounce the following: infamous; - inquiries; exquisitely; fellow; amateur. - - =Phrases= - - in compliance, 531, 1 - hereunto append, 531, 4 - initial sentence, 532, 8 - slightest suspicion of enthusiasm, 532, 9 - transcendent genius of _finesse_, 532, 14 - cavorting and straddling up, 533, 25 - lattice box, 535, 21 - anchored out, 536, 26 - - -THE HEIGHT OF THE RIDICULOUS - -OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES - - I wrote some lines once on a time - In wondrous merry mood, - And thought, as usual, men would say - They were exceeding good. - - They were so queer, so very queer, - I laughed as I would die; - Albeit, in the general way, - A sober man am I. - - I called my servant, and he came; - How kind it was of him - To mind a slender man like me, - He of the mighty limb! - - “These to the printer,” I exclaimed. - And, in my humorous way, - I added (as a trifling jest), - “There’ll be the devil to pay.” - - He took the paper, and I watched, - And saw him peep within; - At the first line he read, his face - Was all upon the grin. - - He read the next; the grin grew broad, - And shot from ear to ear; - He read the third; a chuckling noise - I now began to hear. - - The fourth; he broke into a roar; - The fifth; his waistband split; - The sixth; he burst five buttons off, - And tumbled in a fit. - - Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye, - I watched that wretched man, - And since, I never dare to write - As funny as I can. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Oliver Wendell Holmes (1809-1894) was born in Cambridge, - Massachusetts, the son of a Congregational minister. He attended - Phillips Exeter Academy and was graduated from Harvard College in the - famous class of 1829. After studying medicine and anatomy in Paris, - he began practicing in Boston. Later he was made professor of anatomy - and physiology at Dartmouth College, and afterwards at Harvard. In - 1850 he wrote the poem “Old Ironsides” as a protest against the - dismantling of the historic battleship _Constitution_ which lay in - the harbor. It stirred the entire country so that the Secretary - of the Navy found it advisable to recall the order he had issued. - Like Bryant, Holmes was a poet on occasion, not by profession. For - more than forty years after he entered on his duties at Harvard he - delivered his four lectures a week eight months of the year, and - President Eliot bore witness that he was not less skillful with the - scalpel and the microscope than with the pen. - - When Lowell was offered the editorship of the _Atlantic Monthly_, - he made it a condition of his acceptance that Holmes should be a - contributor. The result was a series of articles entitled _The - Autocrat of the Breakfast Table_. Among his poems, the best known - are his “Chambered Nautilus,” “The Height of the Ridiculous”, - “The Deacon’s Masterpiece” (The One Hoss Shay), and short poems - in celebration of various occasions. Among these are some forty - poems read at anniversaries of his college class, notably the one - beginning: “Has any old fellow got mixed with the boys?” In this he - refers playfully to the author of “America” as one whom “Fate tried - to conceal by naming him Smith.” - - He wrote several novels, but it is as the author of the _Autocrat_ - series and by his humorous poems that he will be best remembered by - his readers. By his personal associates he was most fondly remembered - for his sunny, cheerful disposition and his witty conversation. - - =Discussion.= 1. What is it that is described by the poet as being - the “height of the ridiculous”? 2. What incidents are related that - seem to show him to be right in this estimate? 3. What opinion of the - poet does the poem give you? 4. In what state of mind do you think - of him as writing it? 5. What is the “trifling jest” referred to in - stanza 4? 6. What have the humorists done for the world? 7. Of what - use is a poem like this? - - =Phrases= - - the height of the ridiculous, 538 (title) - albeit, in the general way, 538, 7 - a trifling jest, 539, 7 - a chuckling noise, 539, 15 - - -THE GIFT OF THE MAGI - -O. HENRY - -One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it -was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the -grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one’s cheeks burned -with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. -Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. And the -next day would be Christmas. - -There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little -couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection -that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles -predominating. - -While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first -stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per -week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that -word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad. - -In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, -and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. -Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name “Mr. James -Dillingham Young.” - -The “Dillingham” had been flung to the breeze during a former period of -prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the -income was shrunk to $20, the letters of “Dillingham” looked blurred, -as though they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and -unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and -reached his flat above he was called “Jim” and greatly hugged by Mrs. -James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all -very good. - -Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. -She stood by the window and looked out dully at a gray cat walking a gray -fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had -only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every -penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week -doesn’t go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They -always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy -hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine -and rare and sterling—something just a little bit near to being worthy of -the honor of being owned by Jim. - -There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have -seen a pier-glass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, -by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, -obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, -had mastered the art. - -Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. Her eyes -were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty -seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full -length. - -Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which -they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim’s gold watch that had been -his father’s and his grandfather’s. The other was Della’s hair. Had the -Queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have -let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her -Majesty’s jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all -his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his -watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy. - -So now Della’s beautiful hair fell about her, rippling and shining like -a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself -almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and -quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or -two splashed on the worn red carpet. - -On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of -skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered -out of the door and down the stairs to the street. - -Where she stopped, the sign read: “Mme. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All -Kinds.” One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, -large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the “Sofronie.” - -“Will you buy my hair?” asked Della. - -“I buy hair,” said Madame. “Take yer hat off and let’s have a sight at -the looks of it.” - -Down rippled the brown cascade. - -“Twenty dollars,” said Madame, lifting the mass with a practiced hand. - -“Give it to me quick,” said Della. - -Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed -metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim’s present. - -She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. -There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all -of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain, simple and chaste in -design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by -meretricious ornamentation—as all good things should do. It was even -worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be -Jim’s. It was like him. Quietness and value—the description applied to -both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home -with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly -anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he -sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap -that he used in place of a chain. - -When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence -and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went -to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is -always a tremendous task, dear friends—a mammoth task. - -Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls -that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at -her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically. - -“If Jim doesn’t kill me,” she said to herself, “before he takes a second -look at me, he’ll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what -could I do—oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty-seven cents?” - -At 7 o’clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of -the stove hot and ready to cook the chops. - -Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on -the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she -heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned -white for just a moment. She had a habit of saying little silent prayers -about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: “Please God, -make him think I am still pretty.” - -The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very -serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two—and to be burdened with a -family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves. - -Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of -quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in -them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor -surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she -had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar -expression on his face. - -Della wriggled off the table and went for him. - -“Jim, darling,” she cried, “don’t look at me that way. I had my hair cut -off and sold it because I couldn’t live through Christmas without giving -you a present. It’ll grow out again—you won’t mind, will you? I just had -to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say ‘Merry Christmas,’ Jim, and -let’s be happy. You don’t know what a nice—what a beautiful, nice gift -I’ve got for you.” - -“You’ve cut off your hair?” asked Jim laboriously, as if he had not -arrived at that patent fact yet, even after the hardest mental labor. - -“Cut it off and sold it,” said Della. “Don’t you like me just as well, -anyhow? I’m me without my hair, ain’t I?” - -Jim looked about the room curiously. - -“You say your hair is gone?” he said, with an air almost of idiocy. - -“You needn’t look for it,” said Della. “It’s sold, I tell you—sold and -gone, too. It’s Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. -Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered,” she went on with a sudden -serious sweetness, “but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I -put the chops on, Jim?” - -Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For -ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential -object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a -year—what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the -wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among -them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on. - -Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table. - -“Don’t make any mistake, Dell,” he said, “about me. I don’t think there’s -anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make -me like my girl any less. But if you’ll unwrap that package you may see -why you had me going a while at first.” - -White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an -ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to -hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all -the comforting powers of the lord of the flat. - -For there lay The Combs—the set of combs, side and back, that Della had -worshiped for long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise -shell, with jeweled rims—just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished -hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply -craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And -now they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted -adornments were gone. - -But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up -with dim eyes and a smile and say: “My hair grows so fast, Jim!” - -And then Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, “Oh, oh!” - -Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him -eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with -a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit. - -“Isn’t it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You’ll have to -look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to -see how it looks on it.” - -Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under -the back of his head and smiled. - -“Dell,” said he, “let’s put our Christmas presents away and keep ’em a -while. They’re too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get -the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on.” - -The magi, as you know, were wise men—wonderfully wise men—who brought -gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving -Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, -possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. -And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two -foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other -the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise -of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were -the wisest. Of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. -Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= William Sidney Porter (1862-1910), better known by - his pen name, O. Henry, was born in Greensboro, North Carolina. - His teacher was his aunt, who encouraged his love of stories and - story-telling. As a boy he read widely and showed a natural gift - for sketching. When a mere boy, he went to Texas where he spent two - years on a sheep ranch. He became a reporter for the _Daily Post_ - of Houston, Texas, and later he wrote extensively for the leading - magazines. In 1902 he went to New York City to live and from this - time on he devoted himself almost exclusively to short-story - writing. He holds a prominent place among the world’s greatest - short-story writers. His best known books are _The Four Million_, - from which “The Gift of the Magi” is taken, _Whirligigs_, and _Heart - of the West_, portraying life in Texas. His stories are drawn from - real situations and picture the various types found in ordinary - American life. They are noted for their surprising endings and for - their warm human sympathy. - - =Discussion.= 1. Has this story an interesting beginning? 2. What - does it make you curious about? 3. Throughout the story find other - instances where the author arouses your curiosity, but does not - immediately tell you what you wish to know. 4. When did a plan for - obtaining money first suggest itself to Della? 5. Where do you first - begin to suspect what the plan is? 6. Does Jim’s behavior, when he is - told that Della has cut off her hair, puzzle you as well as Della? 7. - Where do you learn why he was so bewildered? 8. O. Henry’s stories - usually have a surprise at the end; is there a surprise in this one? - 9, What reason do you see for calling Jim and Della “the magi”? - - =Phrases= - - imputation of parsimony, 541, 4 - instigates the moral reflection, 541, 9 - beggar description, 541, 14 - mendicancy squad, 541, 15 - appertaining thereunto, 541, 19 - a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, 542, 14 - just to depreciate, 542, 26 - meretricious ornamentation, 543, 22 - repairing the ravages, 543, 33 - immovable as a setter, 544, 20 - patent fact, 544, 36 - inconsequential object, 545, 13 - case of duplication, 546, 21 - - -WOUTER VAN TWILLER - -WASHINGTON IRVING - -It was in the year of our Lord 1629 that Mynheer Wouter Van Twiller -was appointed governor of the province of Nieuw-Nederlandts, under the -commission and control of their High Mightinesses, the Lords States -General of the United Netherlands, and the privileged West India Company. - -This renowned old gentleman arrived at New-Amsterdam in the merry month -of June, the sweetest month in all the year; when Dan Apollo seems -to dance up the transparent firmament—when the robin, the thrush, and -a thousand other wanton songsters made the woods resound with amorous -ditties, and the luxurious little boblincon revels among the clover -blossoms of the meadows—all which happy coincidence persuaded the old -dames of New-Amsterdam, who were skilled in the art of foretelling -events, that this was to be a happy and prosperous administration. - -The renowned Wouter (or Walter) Van Twiller was descended from a long -line of Dutch burgomasters, who had successively dozed away their lives -and grown fat upon the bench of magistracy in Rotterdam; and who had -comported themselves with such singular wisdom and propriety, that they -were never either heard or talked of—which, next to being universally -applauded, should be the object of ambition of all sage magistrates and -rulers. - -There are two opposite ways by which some men get into notice—one by -talking a vast deal and thinking a little, and the other by holding -their tongues, and not thinking at all. By the first, many a vaporing, -superficial pretender acquires the reputation of a man of quick parts—by -the other, many a vacant dunderpate, like the owl, the stupidest of -birds, comes to be complimented by a discerning world with all the -attributes of wisdom. This, by the way, is a mere casual remark, which -I would not for the universe have it thought I apply to Governor Van -Twiller. On the contrary, he was a very wise Dutchman, for he never said -a foolish thing—and of such invincible gravity, that he was never known -to laugh, or even to smile, through the course of a long and prosperous -life. Certain, however, it is, there never was a matter proposed, -however simple, and on which your common narrow-minded mortals would -rashly determine at the first glance, but what the renowned Wouter put -on a mighty, mysterious, vacant kind of look, shook his capacious head, -and, having smoked for five minutes with redoubled earnestness, sagely -observed that he had his doubts about the matter—which in process of time -gained him the character of a man slow in belief, and not easily imposed -on. - -The person of this illustrious old gentleman was as regularly formed -and nobly proportioned, as though it had been molded by the hands of -some cunning Dutch statuary, as a model of majesty and lordly grandeur. -He was exactly five feet six inches in height, and six feet five inches -in circumference. His head was a perfect sphere, and of such stupendous -dimensions that Dame Nature, with all her sex’s ingenuity, would have -been puzzled to construct a neck capable of supporting it; wherefore she -wisely declined the attempt, and settled it firmly on the top of his -back-bone, just between the shoulders. His body was of an oblong form, -particularly capacious at bottom; which was wisely ordered by Providence, -seeing that he was a man of sedentary habits, and very averse to the -idle labor of walking. His legs, though exceeding short, were sturdy -in proportion to the weight they had to sustain; so that when erect he -had not a little the appearance of a robustious beer-barrel, standing -on skids. His face, that infallible index of the mind, presented a -vast expanse, perfectly unfurrowed or deformed by any of those lines -and angles which disfigure the human countenance with what is termed -expression. Two small gray eyes twinkled feebly in the midst, like two -stars of lesser magnitude in the hazy firmament; and his full-fed cheeks, -which seemed to have taken toll of everything that went into his mouth, -were curiously mottled and streaked with dusky red, like a Spitzenberg -apple. - -His habits were as regular as his person. He daily took his four stated -meals, appropriating exactly an hour to each; he smoked and doubted eight -hours, and he slept the remaining twelve of the four and twenty. Such -was the renowned Wouter Van Twiller—a true philosopher, for his mind -was either elevated above, or tranquilly settled below, the cares and -perplexities of this world. He had lived in it for years, without feeling -the least curiosity to know whether the sun revolved round it, or it -round the sun; and he had watched, for at least half a century, the smoke -curling from his pipe to the ceiling; without once troubling his head -with any of those numerous theories, by which a philosopher would have -perplexed his brain, in accounting for its rising above the surrounding -atmosphere. - -In his council he presided with great state and solemnity. He sat in -a huge chair of solid oak, hewn in the celebrated forest of the Hague, -fabricated by an experienced timmerman of Amsterdam, and curiously carved -about the arms and feet, into exact imitations of gigantic eagle’s claws. -Instead of a scepter, he swayed a long Turkish pipe, wrought with jasmine -and amber, which had been presented to a Stadtholder of Holland, at the -conclusion of a treaty with one of the petty Barbary powers. In this -stately chair would he sit, and this magnificent pipe would he smoke, -shaking his right knee with a constant motion, and fixing his eye for -hours together upon a little print of Amsterdam, which hung in a black -frame against the opposite wall of the council chamber. Nay, it has -even been said, that when any deliberation of extraordinary length and -intricacy was on the carpet, the renowned Wouter would absolutely shut -his eyes for full two hours at a time, that he might not be disturbed by -external objects—and at such times the internal commotion of his mind was -evinced by certain regular guttural sounds, which his admirers declared -were merely the noise of conflict, made by his contending doubts and -opinions. - -It is with infinite difficulty I have been enabled to collect these -biographical anecdotes of the great man under consideration. The facts -respecting him were so scattered and vague, and divers of them so -questionable in point of authenticity, that I have had to give up the -search after many, and decline the admission of still more, which would -have tended to heighten the coloring of his portrait. - -I have been the more anxious to delineate fully the person and habits -of the renowned Van Twiller, from the consideration that he was not -only the first, but also the best governor that ever presided over this -ancient and respectable province; and so tranquil and benevolent was his -reign, that I do not find throughout the whole of it, a single instance -of any offender being brought to punishment—a most indubitable sign of a -merciful governor, and a case unparalleled, excepting in the reign of the -illustrious King Log, from whom, it is hinted, the renowned Van Twiller -was a lineal descendant. - -The very outset of the career of this excellent magistrate was -distinguished by an example of legal acumen, that gave flattering -presage of a wise and equitable administration. The morning after he -had been solemnly installed in office, and at the moment that he was -making his breakfast, from a prodigious earthen dish, filled with milk -and Indian pudding, he was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of one -Wandle Schoonhoven, a very important old burgher of New-Amsterdam, who -complained bitterly of one Barent Bleecker, inasmuch as he fraudulently -refused to come to a settlement of accounts, seeing that there was a -heavy balance in favor of the said Wandle. Governor Van Twiller, as I -have already observed, was a man of few words; he was likewise a mortal -enemy to multiplying writings—or being disturbed at his breakfast. Having -listened attentively to the statement of Wandle Schoonhoven, giving an -occasional grunt, as he shoveled a spoonful of Indian pudding into his -mouth—either as a sign that he relished the dish, or comprehended the -story—he called unto him his constable, and pulling out of his breeches -pocket a huge jack-knife, despatched it after the defendant as a summons, -accompanied by his tobacco-box as a warrant. - -This summary process was as effectual in those simple days as was the -seal ring of the great Haroun Alraschid among the true believers. The two -parties being confronted before him, each produced a book of accounts -written in a language and character that would have puzzled any but a -High Dutch commentator, or a learned decipherer of Egyptian obelisks, to -understand. The sage Wouter took them one after the other, and having -poised them in his hands, and attentively counted over the number of -leaves, fell straightway into a very great doubt, and smoked for half -an hour without saying a word; at length, laying his finger beside his -nose, and shutting his eyes for a moment, with the air of a man who has -just caught a subtle idea by the tail, he slowly took his pipe from his -mouth, puffed forth a column of tobacco-smoke, and with marvelous gravity -and solemnity pronounced—that having carefully counted over the leaves -and weighed the books, it was found, that one was just as thick and as -heavy as the other—therefore it was the final opinion of the court that -the accounts were equally balanced—therefore Wandle should give Barent a -receipt, and Barent should give Wandle a receipt—and the constable should -pay the costs. - -This decision being straightway made known, diffused general joy -throughout New-Amsterdam, for the people immediately perceived that they -had a very wise and equitable magistrate to rule over them. But its -happiest effect was, that not another law-suit took place throughout the -whole of his administration—and the office of constable fell into such -decay that there was not one of those losel scouts known in the province -for many years. I am the more particular in dwelling on this transaction, -not only because I deem it one of the most sage and righteous judgments -on record, and well worthy the attention of modern magistrates, but -because it was a miraculous event in the history of the renowned -Wouter—being the only time he was ever known to come to a decision in the -whole course of his life. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 424. - - =Discussion.= 1. Does Irving describe Wouter Van Twiller directly or - indirectly? 2. What conclusion are you led to concerning Wouter’s - mentality, despite the author’s statements to the contrary? 3. - Describe Wouter’s appearance in your own words. 4. Do you think the - author is more inclined to state facts, or to imply them? Prove your - point through the paragraphs dealing with the Dutchman’s behavior - during the council meetings. 5. What was the only decision that - Wouter ever reached? 6. Do you think Irving uses any of the following - methods for developing the humor of the tale: exaggeration, sarcasm, - irony? Or do you think the humor lies in the way he relates with - great seriousness facts that are obviously ridiculous? 7. What do you - think is the most amusing incident or description in the sketch? - - =Phrases= - - under the commission and control, 547, 3 - transparent firmament, 548, 1 - amorous ditties, 548, 3 - successively dozed away, 548, 10 - vaporing, superficial pretender, 548, 19 - nobly proportioned, 549, 1 - stupendous dimensions, 549, 5 - infallible index, 549, 15 - lesser magnitude, 549, 20 - fabricated by an experienced timmerman, 550, 2 - deliberation of extraordinary length, 550, 18 - point of authenticity, 550, 23 - example of legal acumen, 551, 1 - losel scouts, 552, 9 - - - - -AMERICAN WORKERS AND THEIR WORK - -[Illustration] - - -MAKERS OF THE FLAG - -FRANKLIN K. LANE - -This morning as I passed into the Land Office, the Flag dropped me a most -cordial salutation, and from its rippling folds I heard it say: “Good -morning, Mr. Flag Maker.” - -“I beg your pardon, Old Glory,” I said; “aren’t you mistaken? I am not -the President of the United States, nor a member of Congress, nor even a -general in the army. I am only a Government clerk.” - -“I greet you again, Mr. Flag Maker,” replied the gay voice; “I know -you well. You are the man who worked in the swelter of yesterday -straightening out the tangle of that farmer’s homestead in Idaho, or -perhaps you found the mistake in the Indian contract in Oklahoma, or -helped to clear that patent for the hopeful inventor in New York, or -pushed the opening of that new ditch in Colorado, or made that mine in -Illinois more safe, or brought relief to the old soldier in Wyoming. No -matter, whichever one of these beneficent individuals you may happen to -be, I give you greeting, Mr. Flag Maker.” - -I was about to pass on, when the Flag stopped me with these words: - -“Yesterday the President spoke a word that made happier the future of -ten million peons in Mexico; but that act looms no larger on the flag -than the struggle which the boy in Georgia is making to win the Corn Club -prize this summer. - -“Yesterday the Congress spoke a word which will open the door of Alaska; -but a mother in Michigan worked from sunrise until far into the night, to -give her boy an education. She, too, is making the flag. - -“Yesterday we made a new law to prevent financial panics, and yesterday, -maybe, a school teacher in Ohio taught his first letters to a boy who -will one day write a song that will give cheer to the millions of our -race. We are all making the flag.” - -“But,” I said impatiently, “these people were only working!” Then came a -great shout from the Flag: - -“The work that we do is the making of the Flag. - -“I am not the flag; not at all. I am nothing more than its shadow. - -“I am whatever you make me, nothing more. - -“I am your belief in yourself, your dream of what a People may become. - -“I live a changing life, a life of moods and passions, of heartbreaks and -tired muscles. - -“Sometimes I am strong with pride, when workmen do an honest piece of -work, fitting rails together truly. - -“Sometimes I droop, for then purpose has gone from me, and cynically I -play the coward. - -“Sometimes I am loud, garish, and full of that ego that blasts judgment. - -“But always, I am all that you hope to be, and have the courage to try -for. - -“I am song and fear, struggle and panic, and ennobling hope. - -“I am the day’s work of the weakest man, and the largest dream of the -most daring. - -“I am the Constitution and the courts, the statutes and the statute -makers, soldier and dreadnaught, drayman and street sweep, cook, -counselor, and clerk. - -“I am the battle of yesterday, and the mistake of tomorrow. - -“I am the mystery of the men who do without knowing why. - -“I am the clutch of an idea, and the reasoned purpose of resolution. - -“I am no more than what you believe me to be, and I am all that you -believe I can be. - -“I am what you make me, nothing more. - -“I swing before your eyes as a bright gleam of color, a symbol of -yourself, the pictured suggestion of that big thing which makes this -nation. My stars and my stripes are your dream and your labors. They are -bright with cheer, brilliant with courage, firm with faith, because you -have made them so out of your hearts. For you are the makers of the flag -and it is well that you glory in the making.” - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Franklin Knight Lane (1864-⸺) was born near - Charlottetown, Canada. While he was yet a small boy his parents moved - to California, where he attended the State University at Berkeley, - being graduated in 1886. Then he entered the newspaper field and - became New York correspondent for a number of papers in the West. - He was admitted to the bar at the age of twenty-five and practiced - law in San Francisco. In 1913 he was appointed Secretary of the - Interior in the Cabinet of President Wilson. “Makers of the Flag” is - an address made by Secretary Lane, in June, 1914, before the five - thousand officers and employees of the Department of the Interior. - - =Discussion.= 1. Why did the Flag greet the author as “Mr. Flag - Maker”? 2. Why are the Georgia boy, the mother in Michigan, and the - school teacher in Ohio, Makers of the Flag? 3. Tell in your own words - some of the things that Mr. Lane says the Flag is. 4. What does the - Flag mean by saying, “I am all that you hope to be and have the - courage to try for”? 5. How is the Flag a “symbol of yourself”? 6. Do - you think that you are a Maker of the Flag? 7. In your opinion, what - class of people are the greatest Makers of the Flag? 8. Pronounce the - following: cordial; government; garish; ego. - - =Phrases= - - cordial salutation, 553, 2 - swelter of yesterday, 553, 9 - Indian contract, 553, 11 - beneficent individuals, 553, 16 - financial panics, 554, 8 - cynically I play the coward, 554, 25 - ego that blasts judgment, 554, 26 - mistake of tomorrow, 554, 37 - clutch of an idea, 555, 2 - purpose of resolution, 555, 2 - - -I HEAR AMERICA SINGING - -WALT WHITMAN - - I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear, - Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be, blithe and - strong, - The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam, - The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work, - The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing - on the steamboat deck, - The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he - stands, - The wood-cutters’ song, the plowboy’s on his way in the morning, or at - noon intermission, or at sundown, - The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of - the girl sewing or washing, - Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else, - The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, - robust, friendly, - Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Walt Whitman (1819-1892) was born in Huntington, Long - Island, and educated in the public schools of Brooklyn. He left - school at the early age of thirteen to make his own way in life. - At different times he was school teacher, carpenter, builder, - journalist, and poet. During the Civil War he became a volunteer - nurse in and about Washington, D. C., and the story of his unselfish - hospital service is one of the most inspiring that has come down - to us from that war. Lincoln said of him, “Well, _he_ looks like a - _man_!” - - Two points about Whitman are worthy of notice. The first is that - he was a man of intensely democratic sympathies. He wrote of “the - dear love of comrades” as the real means for bringing about a better - understanding among men of every nation, a better government, and the - end of war. He loved every part of America, and all America’s sons - and daughters. - - The word “democracy” constantly occurs in his poetry and his prose, - and by it he means the cultivation of love and coöperation among men. - He had a vision of the time when autocratic government, and all forms - of selfishness, should cease among men; like Burns, he dwelt on the - time when men all over the world should be brothers. - - The second point is closely related to the first. In his dislike - for conventional and exclusive life he objected even to the _form_ - developed for poetry through centuries. He was a lover of freedom, - even in writing. So he rarely uses rimes and stanzas. He calls his - form “chants,” and so they are, chants of human brotherhood and - sympathy. - - =Discussion.= 1. Who is it that the poet hears singing? 2. In stanza - 1, what “varied carols” does he hear? 3. What do you think was the - poet’s underlying idea in writing this poem? 4. Do you think that he - meant to point out that the road to happiness is the road to work? - - =Phrases= - - varied carols, 556, 1 - noon intermission, 556, 12 - - -PIONEERS! O PIONEERS! - -WALT WHITMAN - - Come my tan-faced children, - Follow well in order, get your weapons ready, - Have you your pistols? Have you your sharp-edged axes? - Pioneers! O pioneers! - - For we cannot tarry here, - We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger, - We the youthful sinewy races, all the rest on us depend, - Pioneers! O pioneers! - - O you youths, Western youths, - So impatient, full of action, full of manly pride and friendship, - Plain I see you Western youths, see you tramping with the foremost, - Pioneers! O pioneers! - - Have the elder races halted? - Do they droop and end their lesson, wearied over there beyond the seas? - We take up the task eternal, and the burden and the lesson, - Pioneers! O pioneers! - - All the past we leave behind, - We debouch upon a newer mightier world, varied world, - Fresh and strong the world we seize, world of labor and the march, - Pioneers! O pioneers! - - We detachments steady throwing, - Down the edges, through the passes, up the mountains steep, - Conquering, holding, daring, venturing as we go the unknown ways, - Pioneers! O pioneers! - - We primeval forests felling, - We the rivers stemming, vexing we and piercing deep the mines within, - We the surface broad surveying, we the virgin soil upheaving, - Pioneers! O pioneers! - - Colorado men are we, - From the peaks gigantic, from the great sierras and the high plateaus, - From the mine and from the gully, from the hunting trail we come, - Pioneers! O pioneers! - - From Nebraska, from Arkansas, - Central inland race are we, from Missouri, with the continental blood - intervein’d, - All the hands of comrades clasping, all the Southern, all the Northern, - Pioneers! O pioneers! - - O resistless restless race! - O beloved race in all! O my breast aches with tender love for all! - O I mourn and yet exult, I am rapt with love for all, - Pioneers! O pioneers! - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Discussion.= 1. Whom does the poet address in stanza 1? 2. What does - he ask them if they have ready? 3. Why cannot they “tarry here”? 4. - How does the poet characterize the “western youths”? 5. Why must the - Pioneers “take up the task eternal”? 6. What new world do they enter - upon? 7. Mention some of the tasks that the Pioneers must do. 8. - Where do these pioneers come from? 9. Why does the poet mourn and yet - exult? - - =Phrases= - - bear the brunt, 557, 6 - sinewy races, 557, 7 - task eternal, 558, 3 - we debouch, 558, 6 - surface broad surveying, 558, 15 - continental blood intervein’d, 558, 22 - - -THE BEANFIELD - -HENRY D. THOREAU - -Before I finished my house, wishing to earn ten or twelve dollars by some -honest and agreeable method, in order to meet my unusual expenses, I -planted about two acres and a half chiefly with beans, but a small part -with potatoes, corn, peas, and turnips. - -Meanwhile my beans, the length of whose rows, added together, was seven -miles, were impatient to be hoed, for the earliest had grown considerably -before the latest were in the ground; indeed they were not easily to be -put off. What was the meaning of this so steady and self-respecting, this -small Herculean labor, I knew not. I came to love my rows, my beans, -though so many more than I wanted. They attached me to the earth, and so -I got strength like Antaeus. But why should I raise them? Only Heaven -knows. This was my curious labor all summer—to make this portion of -the earth’s surface, which had yielded only cinquefoil, blackberries, -johnswort, and the like, before, sweet wild fruits and pleasant flowers, -produce instead this pulse. What shall I learn of beans or beans of me? I -cherish them, I hoe them, early and late I have an eye to them; and this -is my day’s work. It is a fine broad leaf to look on. My auxiliaries are -the dews and rains which water this dry soil, and what fertility is in -the soil itself, which for the most part is lean and effete. My enemies -are worms, cool days and, most of all, woodchucks. The last have nibbled -for me a quarter of an acre clean. But what right had I to oust johnswort -and the rest, and break up their ancient herb garden? Soon, however, the -remaining beans will be too tough for them, and go forward to meet new -foes. - -I planted about two acres and a half of upland. Before any woodchuck -or squirrel had run across the road, or the sun had gotten above the -shrub-oaks, while all the dew was on—I would advise you to do all your -work if possible while the dew is on—I began to level the ranks of -haughty weeds in my beanfield and to throw dust upon their heads. Early -in the morning I worked barefooted, dabbling like a plastic artist in the -dewy and crumbling sand, but later in the day the sun blistered my feet. -The sun lighted me to hoe beans, pacing slowly backward and forward over -that yellow gravelly upland, between the long green rows, fifteen rods, -the one end terminating in a shrub-oak copse where I could rest in the -shade the other in a blackberry field where the green berries deepened -their tints by the time I had made another round. Removing the weeds -putting fresh soil about the bean stems and encouraging this weed which -I had sown, making the yellow soil express its summer thought in bean -leaves and blossoms rather than in wormwood and piper and millet grass, -making the earth say beans instead of grass—this was my daily work. As I -had little aid from horses or cattle, or hired men or boys, or improved -implements of husbandry, I was much slower, and became much more intimate -with my beans than usual. - -It was a singular experience, that long acquaintance which I cultivated -with beans, what with planting, and hoeing, and harvesting, and -threshing, and picking over and selling them—the last was the hardest of -all—I might add eating for I did taste. I was determined to know beans. -When they were growing, I used to hoe from five o’clock in the morning -till noon, and commonly spent the rest of the day about other affairs. -Consider the intimate and curious acquaintance one makes with various -kinds of weeds. That’s Roman wormwood—that’s pigweed—that’s sorrel—that’s -piper-grass—have at him, chop him up, turn his roots upward to the sun, -don’t let him have a fiber in the shade; if you do he’ll turn himself -t’other side up and be as green as a leek in two days. A long war, not -with cranes, but with weeds, those Trojans who had sun and rain and dews -on their side. Daily the beans saw me come to their rescue armed with a -hoe, and thin the ranks of their enemies, filling up the trenches with -weedy dead. Many a lusty crest-waving Hector, that towered a whole foot -above his crowding comrades, fell before my weapon and rolled in the dust. - -My farm outgoes for the season were, for implements, seed, work, etc., -$14.72½. I got twelve bushels of beans and eighteen bushels of potatoes, -besides some peas and sweet corn. The yellow corn and turnips were too -late to come to anything. My whole income from the farm was— - - $23.44 - Deducting the outgoes 14.72½ - ------- - There are left $ 8.71½ - -This is the result of my experience in raising beans. Plant the common -small white bush bean about the first of June, in rows three feet by -eighteen inches apart, being careful to select fresh, round, and unmixed -seed. First look out for worms, and supply vacancies by planting anew. -Then look out for woodchucks, if it is an exposed place, for they will -nibble off the earliest tender leaves almost clean as they go; and again, -when the young tendrils make their appearance, they have notice of it, -and will shear them off with both buds and young pods, sitting erect like -a squirrel. But above all, harvest as early as possible, if you would -escape frosts and have a fair and salable crop; you may save much loss by -this means. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862) was born in Concord, - Massachusetts, and was educated in the village schools and later at - Harvard University. He was an intimate friend of Emerson, Hawthorne, - and the Alcotts. With the help of Emerson, he built a cottage beside - a pond in Walden Woods near Concord where he lived alone, planted - beans, caught fish, and for the most part lived on the products of - the soil, cultivated by his own hands. In his book, _Walden, or Life - in the Woods_, he gives a detailed account of his observations and - experiences. Other books by Thoreau are _A Week on the Concord and - the Merrimack Rivers_, _The Maine Woods_, etc. - - =Discussion.= 1. Why did Thoreau wish to earn some extra money? 2. - What seeds did he plant? 3. The author likens the hoeing of the - beans to a “Herculean labor”; explain this reference. 4. What were - Thoreau’s auxiliaries? His enemies? 5. According to the author, what - is the best time to work in the garden? 6. How did he come “to know - beans” so well? 7. Explain the metaphor referring to the weeds as - Trojans. 8. How much did the author clear on his garden? 9. Do you - think the amount made was worth the labor put into it? 10. Tell one - of your experiences with a garden. - - =Phrases= - - Herculean labor, 559, 9 - strength like Antaeus, 559, 12 - auxiliaries are the dews, 560, 5 - lean and effete, 560, 7 - level the ranks, 560, 17 - plastic artist, 560, 19 - express its summer thought, 560, 28 - implements of husbandry, 560, 32 - intimate and curious acquaintance, 561, 3 - crest-waving Hector, 561, 13 - supply vacancies, 561, 29 - - -THE SHIP-BUILDERS - -JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER - - The sky is ruddy in the east, - The earth is gray below, - And, spectral in the river-mist, - The ship’s white timbers show. - Then let the sounds of measured stroke - And grating saw begin; - The broad-axe to the gnarléd oak, - The mallet to the pin! - - Hark!—roars the bellows, blast on blast, - The sooty smithy jars, - And fire-sparks, rising far and fast, - Are fading with the stars. - All day for us the smith shall stand - Beside that flashing forge; - All day for us his heavy hand - The groaning anvil scourge. - - From far-off hills, the panting team - For us is toiling near; - For us the raftsmen down the stream - Their island barges steer. - Rings out for us the ax-man’s stroke - In forests old and still— - For us the century-circled oak - Falls crashing down his hill. - - Up!—up!—in nobler toil than ours - No craftsmen bear a part; - We make of Nature’s giant powers - The slaves of human Art. - Lay rib to rib and beam to beam, - And drive the treenails free; - Nor faithless joint nor yawning seam - Shall tempt the searching sea! - - Where’er the keel of our good ship - The sea’s rough field shall plow, - Where’er her tossing spars shall drip - With salt-spray caught below, - That ship must heed her master’s beck, - Her helm obey his hand, - And seamen tread her reeling deck - As if they trod the land. - - Her oaken ribs the vulture-beak - Of Northern ice may peel; - The sunken rock and coral peak - May grate along her keel; - And know we well the painted shell - We give to wind and wave, - Must float, the sailor’s citadel, - Or sink, the sailor’s grave! - - Ho!—strike away the bars and blocks, - And set the good ship free! - Why lingers on these dusty rocks - The young bride of the sea? - Look! how she moves adown the grooves, - In graceful beauty now! - How lowly on the breast she loves - Sinks down her virgin prow! - - God bless her! wheresoe’er the breeze - Her snowy wing shall fan, - Aside the frozen Hebrides, - Or sultry Hindostan! - Where’er, in mart or on the main, - With peaceful flag unfurled, - She helps to wind the silken chain - Of commerce round the world! - - Be hers the Prairie’s golden grain, - The Desert’s golden sand, - The clustered fruits of sunny Spain, - The spice of Morning-land! - Her pathway on the open main - May blessings follow free, - And glad hearts welcome back again. - Her white sails from the sea! - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 60. - - =Discussion.= 1. What does the title tell us? 2. Make an outline - which shows what each stanza tells us of the ship-builders, for - example: - - Stanza 1—Morning; time for work. - - Stanza 2—The smithy; work of the smith, etc. - - 3. What do the first four lines tell us of the time? 4. Note how much - more they tell; what pictures do they give? What comparison do they - suggest? 5. What line in the second stanza adds to the picture in - stanza one? 6. In what sense is the smith working “for us”? 7. What - does the “panting team” bring from the “far-off hills”? 8. With whose - labor does the work of ship-building really begin? Read the lines - which tell this. 9. Which line in the third stanza do you like best? - 10. What comparison does the poet make between ship-building and - other kinds of labor? 11. Is the “master” the only one responsible - for making the ship obey the helm? 12. What is the subject of the - verb “may feel”? 13. What dangers to the ship are pointed out? How - may the ship-builders guard against these dangers? 14. Read the - stanzas which urge honest workmanship. 15. At what point in the - building of a ship are the “bars and blocks” struck away? 16. In - what sense does this “set the good ship free”? 17. Read lines which - tell of the ship’s work. 18. In what sense can the “Prairie’s golden - grain” “be hers”? 19. What is meant by the “Desert’s golden sand”? - 20. What poetic name is given to the Far East? 21. Read the lines - that express the poet’s wish for the ship. 22. Select the lines in - this poem that give the most vivid pictures. 23. Can you think of - anything of which this ship may be the symbol? 24. Compare the poem - with Longfellow’s “The Builders” (page 566) for a suggestion as to - what the ship may represent. 25. Pronounce the following: sooty; - scourge; helm; coral. - - =Phrases= - - spectral in the river-mist, 562, 3 - measured stroke, 562, 5 - sooty smithy jars, 563, 2 - groaning anvil scourge, 563, 8 - century-circled oak, 563, 15 - drive the treenails free, 563, 22 - vulture-beak of Northern ice, 564, 1 - sailor’s citadel, 564, 7 - - -THE BUILDERS - -HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW - - All are architects of Fate, - Working in these walls of Time; - Some with massive deeds and great, - Some with ornaments of rime. - - Nothing useless is, or low; - Each thing in its place is best; - And what seems but idle show - Strengthens and supports the rest. - - For the structure that we raise - Time is with materials filled; - Our todays and yesterdays - Are the blocks with which we build. - - Truly shape and fashion these; - Leave no yawning gaps between; - Think not, because no man sees, - Such things will remain unseen. - - In the elder days of Art, - Builders wrought with greatest care - Each minute and unseen part; - For the gods see everywhere. - - Let us do our work as well, - Both the unseen and the seen; - Make the house, where gods may dwell, - Beautiful, entire, and clean. - - Else our lives are incomplete, - Standing in these walls of Time, - Broken stairways, where the feet - Stumble as they seek to climb. - - Build today, then, strong and sure, - With a firm and ample base; - And ascending and secure - Shall tomorrow find its place. - - Thus alone can we attain - To those turrets, where the eye - Sees the world as one vast plain, - And one boundless reach of sky. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 80. - - =Discussion.= 1. Tell in your own words what the first stanza means - to you. 2. Find the line which tells that we must build whether we - wish to do so or not. 3. Which lines show that we choose the kind of - structure that we raise? 4. Upon what does the beauty of the “blocks” - depend? 5. Mention something that could cause a “yawning gap.” 6. - By whom are “massive deeds” performed? 7. By whom are “ornaments - of rime” made? 8. Explain the meaning of the “elder days of Art” - and mention some works that belong to that time. 9. Tell in your - own words the meaning of the last stanza. 10. What do you think was - Longfellow’s purpose in writing this poem? - - =Phrases= - - architects of Fate, 566, 1 - massive deeds, 566, 3 - yawning gaps, 566, 14 - ample base, 567, 6 - ascending and secure, 567, 7 - boundless reach, 567, 12 - - - - -LOVE OF COUNTRY - -[Illustration] - - -THE FLOWER OF LIBERTY - -OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES - - What flower is this that greets the morn, - Its hues from Heaven so freshly born? - With burning star and flaming band - It kindles all the sunset land; - O tell us what its name may be— - Is this the Flower of Liberty? - It is the banner of the free, - The starry Flower of Liberty. - - In savage Nature’s far abode - Its tender seed our fathers sowed; - The storm-winds rocked its swelling bud, - Its opening leaves were streaked with blood, - Till lo! earth’s tyrants shook to see - The full-blown Flower of Liberty! - Then hail the banner of the free, - The starry Flower of Liberty. - - Behold its streaming rays unite, - One mingling flood of braided light— - The red that fires the Southern rose, - With spotless white from Northern snows, - And, spangled o’er its azure, see - The sister Stars of Liberty! - Then hail the banner of the free, - The starry Flower of Liberty! - - The blades of heroes fence it round, - Where’er it springs is holy ground; - From tower and dome its glories spread; - It waves where lonely sentries tread; - It makes the land as ocean free, - And plants an empire on the sea! - Then hail the banner of the free, - The starry Flower of Liberty. - - Thy sacred leaves, fair Freedom’s flower, - Shall ever float on dome and tower, - To all their heavenly colors true, - In blackening frost or crimson dew— - And God love us as we love thee, - Thrice holy Flower of Liberty! - Then hail the banner of the free, - The starry Flower of Liberty. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 539. - - =Discussion.= 1. Read the line in the first stanza answering the - question with which the poem opens. 2. Explain the metaphor of the - “burning star” and the “flaming band,” etc. 3. How many “burning - stars” does our flag contain? How many “flaming bands”? 4. Why does - the poet call America the “sunset land”? 5. How far back in history - must we go to find the seed time of the Flower of Liberty? 6. Did the - Flower of Liberty come to full-bloom in a time of strife or a time - of peace? 7. What were the “storm-winds”? What blood streaked its - opening leaves? 8. How does the poet show that the North and South - unite as one in the flag? 9. How do the “blades of heroes fence” the - flag? 10. In the fourth stanza the poet says that the flag makes our - land as free as the ocean; what do you know about a recent struggle - over the freedom of the seas? 11. Why is the Flower of Liberty thrice - holy? - - =Phrases= - - freshly born, 568, 2 - flaming band, 568, 3 - far abode, 568, 9 - swelling bud, 568, 11 - streaming rays unite, 569, 1 - braided light, 569, 2 - - -OLD IRONSIDES - -OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES - - Ay, tear her tattered ensign down! - Long has it waved on high, - And many an eye has danced to see - That banner in the sky. - Beneath it rung the battle shout, - And burst the cannon’s roar; - The meteor of the ocean air - Shall sweep the clouds no more! - - Her deck, once red with heroes’ blood, - Where knelt the vanquished foe, - When winds were hurrying o’er the flood, - And waves were white below, - No more shall feel the victor’s tread, - Or know the conquered knee; - The harpies of the shore shall pluck - The eagle of the sea! - - O better that her shattered hulk - Should sink beneath the wave; - Her thunders shook the mighty deep, - And there should be her grave. - Nail to the mast her holy flag, - Set every threadbare sail, - And give her to the god of storms, - The lightning and the gale! - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 539. - - =Historical Note.= Old Ironsides was the popular name given the U. S. - frigate _Constitution_. It was proposed by the Secretary of the Navy - to dispose of the ship, as it had become unfit for service. Popular - sentiment did not approve of this; it was felt that a ship which - had been the pride of the nation should continue to be the property - of the Navy and that it should be rebuilt for service when needed. - Holmes wrote this poem at the time when the matter was being widely - discussed. - - =Discussion.= 1. In what spirit was this poem written? 2. What was - the motive which inspired it? 3. Do you think the poet really means - it when he cries, “Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!”? Can you give - some other instance of irony? 4. As you read this poem, do you think - of the frigate as an inanimate object or does it seem personified? - 5. What is meant by “meteor of the ocean wave”? 6. Who are the - “harpies of the shore”? The “eagle of the sea”? 7. What does the - poet say would be better than to have the ship dismantled? 8. Do you - think this a fitting end for a ship of war? 9. Read the story of the - fight between the _Constitution_ and the _Guerriére_ given in your - history and be prepared to tell it in class. Why did the nation have - particular pride in this achievement? 10. Pronounce the following: - ensign; beneath. - - =Phrases= - - tattered ensign, 570, 1 - meteor of the ocean air, 570, 7 - harpies of the shore, 570, 15 - shattered hulk, 571, 1 - - -THE AMERICAN FLAG - -HENRY WARD BEECHER - -A thoughtful mind, when it sees a nation’s flag, sees not the flag only, -but the nation itself; and whatever may be its symbols, its insignia, he -reads chiefly in the flag the government, the principles, the truths, the -history, which belong to the nation which sets it forth. - -When the French tricolor rolls out to the wind, we see France. When the -new-found Italian flag is unfurled, we see resurrected Italy. When the -other three-cornered Hungarian flag shall be lifted to the wind, we shall -see in it the long buried but never dead principles of Hungarian liberty. -When the united crosses of St. Andrew and St. George on a fiery ground -set forth the banner of Old England, we see not the cloth merely; there -rises up before the mind the noble aspect of that monarchy, which, more -than any other on the globe, has advanced its banner for liberty, law, -and national prosperity. - -This nation has a banner, too; and wherever it streamed abroad, men saw -daybreak bursting on their eyes, for the American flag has been the -symbol of liberty, and men rejoiced in it. Not another flag on the globe -had such an errand, or went forth upon the sea, carrying everywhere, the -world around, such hope for the captive, and such glorious tidings. The -stars upon it were to the pining nations like the morning stars of God, -and the stripes upon it were beams of morning light. - -As at early dawn the stars stand first, and then it grows light, and then -as the sun advances, that light breaks into banks and streaming lines of -color, the glowing red and intense white striving together and ribbing -the horizon with bars effulgent, so on the American flag, stars and beams -of many-colored light shine out together. And wherever the flag comes, -and men behold it, they see in its sacred emblazonry no rampant lion and -fierce eagle, but only LIGHT, and every fold significant of liberty. - -The history of this banner is all on one side. Under it rode Washington -and his armies; before it Burgoyne laid down his arms. It waved on the -highlands at West Point; it floated over old Fort Montgomery. When Arnold -would have surrendered these valuable fortresses and precious legacies, -his night was turned into day, and his treachery was driven away by the -beams of light from this starry banner. - -It cheered our army, driven from New York, in their solitary pilgrimage -through New Jersey. It streamed in light over Valley Forge and -Morristown. It crossed the waters rolling with ice at Trenton; and when -its stars gleamed in the cold morning with victory, a new day of hope -dawned on the despondency of the nation. And when, at length, the long -years of war were drawing to a close, underneath the folds of this -immortal banner sat Washington while Yorktown surrendered its hosts, and -our Revolutionary struggles ended with victory. - -Let us then twine each thread of the glorious tissue of our country’s -flag about our heartstrings; and looking upon our homes and catching the -spirit that breathes upon us from the battlefields of our fathers, let -us resolve, come weal or woe, we will, in life and in death, now and -forever, stand by the Stars and Stripes. They have been unfurled from -the snows of Canada to the plains of New Orleans, in the halls of the -Montezumas and amid the solitude of every sea; and everywhere, as the -luminous symbol of resistless and beneficent power, they have led the -brave to victory and to glory. They have floated over our cradles; let it -be our prayer and our struggle that they shall float over our graves. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Henry Ward Beecher (1813-1887) was a native of - Connecticut and a son of the famous Lyman Beecher. He was a graduate - of Amherst College and of Lane Theological Seminary. For forty years - Beecher was the pastor of Plymouth Church, Brooklyn, discussing from - the pulpit the issues of the time and championing the rights of men - everywhere, particularly the rights of oppressed men. His lectures - and sermons breathed a spirit of intense patriotism. - - =Discussion.= 1. What may be seen in a nation’s flag by a thoughtful - mind? 2. Of what is the American flag a symbol? 3. What are the stars - of the flag compared to? The stripes? 4. What do people see in the - “sacred emblazonry” of the flag? 5. Tell something of the history - of this banner. 6. What is it to “stand by the stars and stripes”? - 7. Do you think the men who fought for us in the Great War lived up - to the ideals given to us in this poem? 8. Pronounce the following: - insignia; horizon; rampant. - - =Phrases= - - resurrected Italy, 572, 7 - glorious tidings, 572, 21 - ribbing the horizon, 572, 27 - bars effulgent, 572, 27 - sacred emblazonry, 572, 30 - precious legacies, 573, 5 - glorious tissue, 573, 17 - weal or woe, 573, 20 - luminous symbol, 573, 24 - beneficent power, 573, 24 - - -THE AMERICAN FLAG - -JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE - - When Freedom, from her mountain height, - Unfurled her standard to the air, - She tore the azure robe of night, - And set the stars of glory there; - She mingled with its gorgeous dyes - The milky baldric of the skies, - And striped its pure celestial white - With streakings of the morning light; - Then, from his mansion in the sun, - She called her eagle-bearer down, - And gave into his mighty hand - The symbol of her chosen land! - - Majestic monarch of the cloud, - Who rear’st aloft thy regal form, - To hear the tempest-trumpings loud, - And see the lightning lances driven, - When strive the warriors of the storm, - And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven— - - Child of the sun! to thee ’tis given - To guard the banner of the free, - To hover in the sulphur smoke, - To ward away the battle-stroke, - And bid its blendings shine afar, - Like rainbows on the cloud of war, - The harbingers of victory! - - Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly, - The sign of hope and triumph high, - When speaks the signal trumpet tone, - And the long line comes gleaming on, - Ere yet the life-blood, warm and wet, - Has dimmed the glistening bayonet, - Each soldier’s eye shall brightly turn - To where thy sky-born glories burn; - And as his springing steps advance, - Catch war and vengeance from the glance. - And when the cannon’s mouthings loud, - Heave in wild wreaths the battle shroud, - And gory sabers rise and fall, - Like shoots of flame on midnight’s pall; - Then shall thy meteor glances glow, - And cowering foes shall sink below - Each gallant arm that strikes beneath - That awful messenger of death. - - Flag of the seas! on ocean’s wave - Thy stars shall glitter o’er the brave; - When death, careering on the gale, - Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail, - And frighted waves rush wildly back - Before the broadside’s reeling rack, - Each dying wanderer of the sea - Shall look at once to heaven and thee, - And smile to see thy splendors fly - In triumph o’er his closing eye. - - Flag of the free heart’s hope and home! - By angel hands to valor given; - Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, - And all thy hues were born in heaven. - Forever float that standard sheet! - Where breathes the foe but falls before us, - With Freedom’s soil beneath our feet, - And Freedom’s banner streaming o’er us? - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Joseph Rodman Drake (1795-1820), whose name is - inseparably associated with that of his friend, Fitz-Greene Halleck, - was an American poet. These two able poets together contributed a - series of forty poems to the _New York Evening Post_. Among these was - “The American Flag,” the last four lines of which were written by - Halleck, to replace those written by Drake: - - “As fixed as yonder orb divine, - That saw thy bannered blaze unfurled, - Shall thy proud stars resplendent shine, - The guard and glory of the world.” - - Drake was a youth of many graces of both mind and body, who wrote - verses as a bird sings—for the pure joy of it. His career was cut - short by death when he was only twenty-five years old. Of him Halleck - wrote: - - “None knew thee but to love thee, - Nor named thee but to praise.” - - =Discussion.= 1. Who is represented as making a flag? 2. How is it - made? 3. What flag is it? 4. What reasons can you see for choosing - the eagle as bearer of this flag? 5. What events are pictured in - which the flag has a part? 6. Note all the names the poet gives to - the flag; which of these do you like best? 7. Can you give other - names that are applied to our flag? 8. What feeling caused this poem - to be written? 9. What lines are the most stirring? 10. Which stanza - do you like best? - - =Phrases= - - unfurled her standard, 574, 2 - azure robe, 574, 3 - milky baldric, 574, 6 - celestial white, 574, 7 - majestic monarch, 574, 13 - regal form, 574, 14 - tempest-trumpings, 574, 15 - sulphur smoke, 575, 3 - harbingers of victory, 575, 7 - sky-born glories, 575, 15 - cannon’s mouthings loud, 575, 18 - welkin dome, 576, 3 - - -THE FLAG GOES BY - -HENRY H. BENNETT - - Hats off! - Along the street there comes - A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums, - A flash of color beneath the sky. - Hats off! - The flag is passing by! - - Blue and crimson and white it shines, - Over the steel-tipped, ordered lines. - Hats off! - The colors before us fly; - But more than the flag is passing by. - - Sea fights and land fights, grim and great, - Fought to make and to save the State; - Weary marches and sinking ships; - Cheers of victory on dying lips; - - Days of plenty and years of peace; - March of a strong land’s swift increase; - Equal justice, right and law, - Stately honor and reverend awe; - - Sign of a nation, great and strong - To ward her people from foreign wrong; - Pride and glory and honor—all - Live in the colors to stand or fall. - - Hats off! - Along the street there comes - A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums; - And loyal hearts are beating high: - Hats off! - The flag is passing by! - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= 1. Henry Holcomb Bennett (1863-⸺), an American newspaper - writer, was born in Chillicothe, Ohio. He is not only a journalist, - but also a magazine writer and a landscape painter. He has been a - frequent contributor to the _Youth’s Companion_, and to the New York - _Independent_. “The Flag Goes By” is his most popular poem. - - =Discussion.= 1. What feeling inspires the cry “Hats off!”? 2. - What does the poet mean by “more than a flag is passing”? 3. Name - historical events which illustrate the different references in the - third stanza. 4. Explain the meaning of “march of a strong land’s - swift increase.” 5. How could the flag “ward her people from foreign - wrong”? 6. How many of the things mentioned by the poet do you see - when the flag goes by? 7. Do you think the poem will help you to see - more? - - =Phrases= - - ruffle of drums, 577, 3 - steel-tipped, ordered lines, 577, 8 - strong land’s swift increase, 577, 17 - reverend awe, 577, 19 - - -THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER - -FRANCIS SCOTT KEY - - O say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light, - What so proudly we hailed, at the twilight’s last gleaming? - Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight, - O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming; - And the rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air, - Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there. - O say, does that Star-Spangled Banner yet wave - O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave? - - On that shore, dimly seen through the mist of the deep, - Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes, - What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep, - As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses? - Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam, - In full glory reflected now shines in the stream; - ’Tis the Star-Spangled Banner; O long may it wave - O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave! - - And where are the foes who so vauntingly swore - That the havoc of war, and the battle’s confusion, - A home and a country should leave us no more? - Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps’ pollution. - No refuge could save the hireling and slave - From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave; - And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph doth wave - O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave! - - O thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand - Between their loved homes and the war’s desolation! - Blest with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land - Praise the power that hath made and preserved us a nation. - Then conquer we must, for our cause it is just, - And this be our motto—“In God is our trust.” - And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph shall wave - O’er the land of the free, and the home of the brave. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biographical and Historical Note.= Francis Scott Key (1780-1843), - an American lawyer and poet, was a native of Maryland. “The - Star-Spangled Banner” made him famous. - - The incidents referred to in this poem occurred during the war of - 1812. In August, 1814, a strong force of British entered Washington - and burned the Capitol, the White House, and many other public - buildings. On September 13 the British admiral moved his fleet into - position to attack Fort McHenry, near Baltimore. The bombardment - lasted all night, but the fort was so bravely defended that the - flag was still floating over it when morning came. Just before the - bombardment began, Francis Scott Key was sent to the admiral’s - frigate to arrange for an exchange of prisoners and was told to - wait until the bombardment was over. All night he watched the fort - and by the first rays of morning light he saw the Stars and Stripes - still waving. Then, in his joy and pride, he wrote the stirring - words of the song which is now known and loved by all Americans—“The - Star-Spangled Banner.” - - =Discussion.= 1. Relate the incident that called forth the poem. 2. - What “perilous fight” had taken place? 3. Where was the author during - the fight? 4. What had he seen at the “twilight’s last gleaming”? 5. - Over what ramparts was the flag streaming? 6. Which lines suggest why - the poet could not be sure that the flag was still there? 7. What - sometimes “gave proof” to him? 8. What finally disclosed the flag “in - full glory”? 9. What feelings do you think this certainty aroused - in the watcher? 10. Who made up “the foe’s haughty host”? 11. Find - words that tell where the foe was and that he had ceased firing. 12. - What “war’s desolation” is named in the third stanza? 13. What other - war songs do you know? 14. What other country’s national hymn do you - know? 15. What purposes does such a song serve? - - =Phrases= - - perilous fight, 578, 3 - o’er the ramparts, 578, 4 - mist of the deep, 578, 9 - dread silence reposes, 578, 10 - towering steep, 578, 11 - vauntingly swore, 579, 5 - foul footsteps’ pollution, 579, 8 - war’s desolation, 579, 14 - - -CITIZENSHIP - -WILLIAM P. FRYE - -Citizenship! What is citizenship? It has a broader signification than you -and I are apt to give it. Citizenship does not mean alone that the man -who possesses it shall be obedient to the law, shall be kindly to his -neighbors, shall regard the rights of others, shall perform his duties as -juror, shall, if the hour of peril come, yield his time, his property, -and his life to his country. It means more than that. It means that his -country shall protect him in every right which the Constitution gives -him. What right has the Republic to demand his life, his property, in the -hour of peril, if, when his hour of peril comes, it fails him? A man died -in England a few years ago, Lord Napier of Magdala, whose death reminded -me of an incident which illustrates this, an incident which gave that -great lord his name. A few years ago King Theodore of Abyssinia seized -Captain Cameron, a British citizen, and incarcerated him in a dungeon -on the top of a mountain nine thousand feet high. England demanded his -release, and King Theodore refused. England fitted out and sent on five -thousand English soldiers, and ten thousand Sepoys, debarked them on -the coast, marched them more than four hundred miles through swamp and -morass under a burning sun. Then they marched up the mountain height, -they scaled the walls, they broke down the iron gates, they reached down -into the dungeon, they took that one British citizen like a brand from -the burning and carried him down the mountain side, across the morass, -put him on board the white-winged ship, and bore him away to England to -safety. That cost Great Britain millions of dollars, and it made General -Napier Lord Napier of Magdala. - -Was not that a magnificent thing for a great country to do? Only think of -it! A country that has an eye sharp enough to see away across the ocean, -away across the morass, away up into the mountain top, away down into the -dungeon, one citizen, one of her thirty millions, and then has an arm -strong enough to reach away across the ocean, away across the morass, -away up the mountain height and down into the dungeon and take that one -and bear him home in safety. Who would not live and die, too, for the -country that can do that? This country of ours is worth our thought, -our care, our labor, our lives. What a magnificent country it is! What -a Republic for the people, where all are kings! Men of great wealth, of -great rank, of great influence can live without difficulty under despotic -power; but how can you and I, how can the average man endure the burdens -it imposes? Oh, this blessed Republic of ours stretches its hand down -to men, and lifts them up, while despotism puts its heavy hand on their -heads and presses them down! This blessed Republic of ours speaks to -every boy in the land, black or white, rich or poor, and asks him to come -up higher and higher. You remember that boy out here on the prairie, the -son of a widowed mother, poor, neglected perhaps by all except the dear -old mother. But the Republic did not neglect him. The Republic said to -that boy: “Boy, there is a ladder: its foot is on the earth, its top is -in the sky. Boy, go up.” And the boy mounted that ladder rung by rung; by -the rung of the free schools, by the rung of the academy, by the rung of -the college, by the rung of splendid service in the United States Army, -by the rung of the United States House of Representatives, by the rung -of the United States Senate, by the rung of the Presidency of the Great -Republic, by the rung of a patient sickness and a heroic death; until -James A. Garfield is a name to be forever honored in the history of our -country. - -Now, is not a Republic like that worth the tribute of our conscience? Is -it not entitled to our best thought, to our holiest purpose? - -Let us pledge ourselves to give it our loyal service and support until -every man in this Republic, black or white, shall be protected in all the -rights which the Constitution of the United States bestows upon him. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biographical and Historical Note.= William Pierce Frye (1831-1911), - an eminent lawyer and statesman, was born at Lewiston, Maine. He was - graduated from Bowdoin College in 1850, and was a member of Congress - from 1871 to 1881, and United States senator for Maine from 1881 to - 1911. After the death of Vice-President Hobart, and also after the - death of President McKinley, he acted as president _pro tempore_ of - the senate. - - The Magdala affair is a striking example of what a country will - do to protect its citizens. Magdala, more properly Makdala, is a - natural stronghold in Abyssinia. The emperor Theodore of Abyssinia - chose it as a fortress and a prison. Having taken offense because - a request that English workmen and machinery be sent him was not - promptly complied with, Theodore seized the British consul, Captain - C. D. Cameron, his suite, and two other men, and imprisoned them at - Magdala. Lieutenant-General Robert Napier was sent to rescue the - prisoners. For his services in this expedition Napier received the - thanks of Parliament, a pension, and a peerage, with the title First - Baron Napier of Magdala. - - =Discussion.= 1. Who are citizens of this country? 2. What is the - duty of a citizen to his country? 3. What is the duty of a country - to its citizens? 4. What incident illustrates the difficulties one - country overcame in order to protect a citizen? 5. What does our - country do for its citizens? 6. What illustration of this is given? - - =Phrases= - - broader signification, 580, 1 - duties as juror, 580, 5 - incident which illustrates, 580, 12 - incarcerated him, 580, 15 - brand from the burning, 581, 8 - across the morass, 581, 9 - despotic power, 581, 25 - tribute of our conscience, 582, 7 - - -THE CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON - -THOMAS JEFFERSON - -I think I knew General Washington intimately and thoroughly, and were I -called on to delineate his character, it should be in terms like these: - -His mind was great and powerful, without being of the very first order; -his penetration strong, though not so acute as that of a Newton, Bacon, -or Locke, and as far as he saw, no judgment was ever sounder. It was slow -in operation, being little aided by invention or imagination, but sure in -conclusion. Hence the common remark of his officers, of the advantage he -derived from councils of war, where, hearing all suggestions, he selected -whatever was best; and certainly no general ever planned his battles more -judiciously. But if deranged during the course of the action, if any -member of his plan was dislocated by sudden circumstances, he was slow -in readjustment. The consequence was that he often failed in the field, -and rarely against an enemy in station, as at Boston and New York. He was -incapable of fear, meeting personal dangers with the calmest unconcern. - -Perhaps the strongest feature in his character was prudence; never acting -until every circumstance, every consideration, was maturely weighed; -refraining if he saw a doubt, but, when once decided, going through with -his purpose whatever obstacles opposed. His integrity was most pure, his -justice the most inflexible I have ever known, no motives of interest or -consanguinity, of friendship, or hatred, being able to bias his decision. -He was, indeed, in every sense of the words, a wise, a good, and a great -man. His temper was naturally irritable and high-toned; but reflection -and resolution had obtained a firm and habitual ascendancy over it. If -ever, however, it broke its bounds, he was most tremendous in his wrath. - -In his expenses he was honorable, but exact; liberal in contribution to -whatever promised utility, but frowning and unyielding on all visionary -projects and all unworthy calls on his charity. His heart was not warm -in its affections; but he exactly calculated every man’s value, and gave -him a solid esteem proportioned to it. His person, you know, was fine, -his stature exactly what one could wish, his deportment easy, erect, and -noble; the best horseman of his age, and the most graceful figure that -could be seen on horseback. - -Although in the circle of his friends, where he might be unreserved with -safety, he took a free share in conversation, his colloquial talents -were not above mediocrity, possessing neither copiousness of ideas nor -fluency of words. In public, when called on for a sudden opinion, he was -unready, short, and embarrassed. Yet he wrote readily, rather diffusely, -in an easy and correct style. This he had acquired by conversation with -the world, for his education was merely reading, writing, and common -arithmetic, to which he added surveying at a later day. - -His time was employed in action chiefly, reading little, and that only in -agriculture and English history. His correspondence became necessarily -extensive, and, with journalizing his agricultural proceedings, occupied -most of his leisure hours within-doors. - -On the whole, his character was, in its mass, perfect, in nothing bad, in -few points indifferent; and it may truly be said that never did nature -and fortune combine more perfectly to make a man great, and to place him -in the same constellation with whatever worthies have merited from man an -everlasting remembrance. - -For his was the singular destiny and merit of leading the armies of -his country successfully through an arduous war for the establishment -of its independence; of conducting its councils through the birth of a -government, new in its forms and principles, until it had settled down -into a quiet and orderly train; and of scrupulously obeying the laws -through the whole of his career, civil and military, of which the history -of the world furnishes no other example. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826), a native of Virginia, - was Governor of Virginia, Minister to France, Secretary of State in - Washington’s Cabinet, Vice-President, and President. He wrote the - Declaration of Independence and was the founder of the University of - Virginia. Jefferson was a ripe scholar, a good violinist, a skillful - horseman, and an accurate marksman with a rifle. His influence was - clearly felt in the framing of the Constitution, though he was in - France at that time. His speeches were sound in policy and clear in - statement. - - =Discussion.= 1. What peculiarly fitted Jefferson to describe - the character of Washington? 2. What conflict gave Washington an - opportunity to show his greatness? 3. How had Washington’s life - prepared him to take advantage of his opportunities? 4. Name the - qualities, as given by Jefferson, that made Washington so great a - leader. 5. How did he show prudence? Integrity? Justice? 6. From your - readings can you give any instance in which he showed fearlessness? - 7. How did he show sureness in judgment? 8. What, in Jefferson’s - opinion, was the strongest feature of Washington’s character? 9. - How does Jefferson summarize his estimate of Washington? 10. What - quality especially characteristic of Lincoln is not mentioned in - this estimate, because it was lacking in Washington? 11. Give a - summary of the things Washington accomplished. 12. What part of this - characterization of Washington impressed you most. 13. Which of the - qualities mentioned would you most wish to possess? - - =Phrases= - - his penetration strong, 583, 5 - invention or imagination, 583, 8 - deranged during the course, 583, 12 - dislocated by sudden circumstances, 583, 13 - obstacles opposed, 583, 21 - interest or consanguinity, 583, 23 - bias his decision, 583, 24 - habitual ascendancy, 583, 27 - liberal in contribution, 583, 30 - visionary projects, 584, 1 - solid esteem proportioned, 584, 3 - rather diffusely, 584, 13 - arduous war, 584, 27 - - -THE TWENTY-SECOND OF FEBRUARY - -WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT - - Pale is the February sky - And brief the mid-day’s sunny hours; - The wind-swept forest seems to sigh - For the sweet time of leaves and flowers. - - Yet has no month a prouder day, - Not even when the summer broods - O’er meadows in their fresh array, - Or autumn tints the glowing woods. - - For this chill season now again - Brings, in its annual round, the morn - When, greatest of the sons of men, - Our glorious Washington was born. - - Lo, where, beneath an icy shield, - Calmly the mighty Hudson flows! - By snow-clad fell and frozen field, - Broadening, the lordly river goes. - - The wildest storm that sweeps through space, - And rends the oak with sudden force, - Can raise no ripple on his face - Or slacken his majestic course. - - Thus, ’mid the wreck of thrones, shall live - Unmarred, undimmed, our hero’s fame, - And years succeeding years shall give - Increase of honors to his name. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 41. - - =Discussion.= 1. How does the poet describe a day in February? 2. - Why has “no month a prouder day”? 3. Whose birthday occurs on the - twenty-second of February? 4. Do you know any other great man whose - birthday comes in February? 5. Give in your own words the comparison - of “the mighty Hudson” and the fame of Washington. 6. Do you know of - some interesting incident in Washington’s life? 7. In the last stanza - the poet speaks of wrecked thrones; what thrones can you name that - were wrecked during the Great War? - - =Phrases= - - summer broods, 586, 6 - fresh array, 586, 7 - icy shield, 586, 13 - snow-clad fell, 586, 15 - majestic course, 586, 20 - ’mid the wreck of thrones, 586, 21 - - -ABRAHAM LINCOLN - -RICHARD HENRY STODDARD - - This man whose homely face you look upon, - Was one of Nature’s masterful great men; - Born with strong arms that unfought victories won. - Direct of speech, and cunning with the pen, - Chosen for large designs, he had the art - Of winning with his humor, and he went - Straight to his mark, which was the human heart. - Wise, too, for what he could not break, he bent; - Upon his back, a more than Atlas load, - The burden of the Commonwealth was laid; - He stooped and rose up with it, though the road - Shot suddenly downwards, not a whit dismayed. - Hold, warriors, councilors, kings! All now give place - To this dead Benefactor of the Race. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= Richard Henry Stoddard (1825-1903), the son of a sea - captain, was born at Hingham, Mass. After the death of his father he - moved with his mother to New York City, where, after a short school - life, he began work in an iron foundry. He and Bayard Taylor became - warm friends, meeting once a week to talk of literary matters. His - characterization of Lincoln is regarded as a classic. He wrote both - prose and poetry and became noted as a literary critic. He is the - author of “Homes and Haunts of Our Elder Poets.” - - =Discussion.= 1. Tell what you can of the author, noting anything in - his life that was common to that of Lincoln. 2. Name the qualities - that the poet says made Lincoln “one of Nature’s masterpieces.” 3. - What does “homely” mean as used in the first line? 4. From your study - of pictures of Lincoln what other words can you suggest to describe - his features? 5. Explain the meaning of “cunning with the pen.” 6. - Repeat any of Lincoln’s famous sayings you know. 7. What does the - eighth line tell you of Lincoln’s character? 8. How did his humor - help him to win? 9. Why was the “burden of the Commonwealth” so great - and why was it laid on his shoulders? 10. Toward what did the road - tend “suddenly downward,” and how did Lincoln meet the situation - created by Secession? 11. What reasons can you give for calling - him a “Benefactor of the Race”? 12. Compare the achievements of - Lincoln with those of Washington. 13. Which do you think the better - description, that written by Stoddard or that by Jefferson? - - =Phrases= - - unfought victories won, 587, 3 - large designs, 587, 5 - Atlas load, 587, 9 - burden of the Commonwealth, 587, 10 - not a whit dismayed, 587, 12 - - -O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! - -WALT WHITMAN - - O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, - The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won, - The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, - While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; - But O heart! heart! heart! - O the bleeding drops of red, - Where on the deck my Captain lies, - Fallen cold and dead. - - O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; - Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills. - For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding, - For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; - Here, Captain! dear father! - This arm beneath your head! - It is some dream that on the deck - You’ve fallen cold and dead. - - My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, - My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, - The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done, - From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; - Exult, O shores! and ring, O bells! - But I with mournful tread - Walk the deck my Captain lies, - Fallen cold and dead. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - For Biography, see page 556. - - =Discussion.= 1. Tell what you know of the poet that fitted him to - write of Lincoln’s character and achievements. 2. In this poem the - Union is compared to a ship; who is the captain of the ship? 3. What - fate befalls the captain, and at what stage of the voyage? 4. What - “port” has been reached? 5. What is “the prize we sought and won”? - 6. Point out words of rejoicing and of sorrow in the last stanza. - 7. What parts of the poem impress you with the deep personal grief - of the poet? 8. This poem put into words the nation’s deep grief at - the time of Lincoln’s death; do you think this accounts for the wide - popularity of the poem? 9. Read Whitman’s poem, “When Lilacs Last in - the Dooryard Bloomed,” describing the journey of the train bearing - the body of the martyred President from Washington to Springfield, - Illinois. - - =Phrases= - - weather’d every rack, 588, 2 - all exulting, 588, 3 - steady keel, 588, 4 - swaying mass, 589, 4 - - -IN FLANDERS FIELDS - -LIEUT. COL. JOHN D. McCRAE - - In Flanders fields the poppies blow - Between the crosses, row on row, - That mark our place; and in the sky - The larks still bravely singing fly, - Scarce heard amidst the guns below. - We are the dead. Short days ago - We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, - Loved and were loved, and now we lie - In Flanders fields. - - Take up our quarrel with the foe! - To you from falling hands we throw - The torch. Be yours to hold it high! - If ye break faith with us who die, - We shall not sleep, though poppies grow - In Flanders fields. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= John D. McCrae, a physician of Montreal, was made a - Lieutenant Colonel in the Canadian Army and went overseas early in - the war. He died of pneumonia at the front in January, 1918. This - beautiful poem, was written by him during the second battle of Ypres, - April, 1915. - - =Discussion.= 1. Tell in your own words the scene which the poet - describes in the first five lines. 2. Of what is the poppy a symbol? - 3. What does the poet bid us do? 4. What do you think was the motive - which inspired Lieutenant Colonel McCrae to write this poem? - - =Phrases= - - poppies blow, 590, 1 - mark our place, 590, 3 - felt dawn, 590, 7 - falling hands, 590, 11 - - -AMERICA’S ANSWER - -R. W. LILLARD - - Rest ye in peace, ye Flanders dead. - The fight that ye so bravely led - We’ve taken up. And we will keep - True faith with you who lie asleep - With each a cross to mark his bed, - And poppies blowing overhead, - Where once his own lifeblood ran red. - So let your rest be sweet and deep - In Flanders fields. - - Fear not that ye have died for naught. - The torch ye threw to us we caught. - Ten million hands will hold it high, - And Freedom’s light shall never die! - We’ve learned the lesson that ye taught - In Flanders fields. - - -NOTES AND QUESTIONS - - =Biography.= “America’s Answer” was written by R. W. Lillard of New - York City after the death of Lieutenant Colonel McCrae, the author of - “In Flanders Fields.” It was printed in the _New York Evening Post_ - as a fitting response to the sentiment expressed in Dr. McCrae’s poem. - - =Discussion.= 1. Why does the poet say that the “Flanders dead” may - now rest in peace? 2. Who took up the struggle? 3. Why does the poet - say that the heroes of Flanders have not “died for naught”? 4. Do you - think this poem is as stirring as the one that precedes it? - - =Phrases= - - true faith, 591, 4 - lifeblood, 591, 7 - Freedom’s light, 591, 13 - learned the lesson, 591, 14 - - - - -GLOSSARY - -KEY TO THE SOUNDS OF MARKED VOWELS - - - ā as in ate - ă as in bat - â as in care - ȧ as in ask - ä as in arm - a᷵ as in senate - e᷵ as in event - ẽ as in maker - ē as in eve - ĕ as in met - ī as in kind - ĭ as in pin - ō as in note - ŏ as in not - ô as in or - o᷵ as in obey - ū as in use - ŭ as in cut - û as in turn - u᷵ as in unite - o̅o̅ as in food - o͡o as in foot - -=a-banˈdon= (ȧ-bănˈdŭn), to leave, quit. - -=a-baseˈment= (ȧ-bāseˈmĕnt), humiliation, shame. - -=a-batˈed= (ȧ-bātˈĕd), reduced, decreased. - -=abˈbess= (ăbˈĕs), head of a convent. - -=abˈbey= (ăbˈī), the church of a monastery, convent. - -=Abˌer-deenˈshire= (ăbˌẽr-dēnˈshẽr), a county in northeastern Scotland. - -=Abˌer-dourˈ= (ăbˌẽr-do̅o̅rˈ), same as Abˌ-er-deenˈ, a city in Scotland. - -=abˈdi-cate= (ăbˈdĭ-kāt), to surrender, abandon. - -=ab-horˈrence= (ăb-hôrˈĕns), extreme hatred. - -=a-bideˈ= (ȧ-bīdˈ), to entrust. - -=a-bodeˈ= (ȧ-bōdˈ), residence, dwelling. - -=a-bom-i-naˈtion= (ȧ-bŏm-ĭ-nāˈshŭn), disgust, hatred. - -=a-booneˈ= (ȧ-bo̅o̅nˈ), Scotch for =above=. - -=abˌo-rigˈi-nes= (ăbˌō-rĭjˈĭ-nēz), native races. - -=ab-ruptˈ= (ăb-rŭptˈ), very steep, rough, sudden. - -=abˈso-lute= (ăbˈsō-lūt), clear, positive; owned solely. - -=ab-sorbedˈ= (ăb-sôrbdˈ), swallowed up. - -=ab-stracˈtion= (ăb-străkˈshŭn), separation. - -=ab-surdˈ= (ăb-sŭrdˈ), ridiculous. - -=a-byssˈ= (ȧ-bĭsˈ), a bottomless pit. - -=a-byssˈ of the whirl= (ȧ-bĭsˈ), great depth of the whirlpool. - -=Abˌys-sinˈi-a= (ăbˌĭ-sĭnˈĭ-ȧ), a country in East Africa. - -=A-caˈdi-a= (ȧ-kāˈdĭ-ȧ), the original French, and now poetic, name of -Nova Scotia. - -=acˈcess= (ăkˈsĕs; ăk-sĕsˈ), admission. - -=ac-comˈpa-nied= (ă-kŭmˈpȧ-nĭd), went with. - -=ac-cordˈ= (ă-kôrdˈ), agreement of will, assent, blend. - -=ac-cordˈing-ly= (ă-kôrdˈĭng-lĭ), consequently, so. - -=ac-countˈa-ble= (ă-kounˈtȧ-b’l), responsible. - -=ac-countˈant= (ă-kountˈănt), one skilled in keeping accounts. - -=ac-cuˌmu-laˈtion= (ă-kūˌmū-lāˈshŭn), collection. - -=acˌcu-saˈtion= (ăkˌu᷵-zāˈshŭn), the charge of an offense or crime. - -=ac-cusˈtomed= (ă-kŭsˈtŭmd), wont, used. - -=a-chieveˈ= (ȧ-chēvˈ), achieve your adventure, do your favor. - -=A-chilˈles= (ȧ-kĭlˈēz), the central hero in the =Iliad=. See Elson -Reader, Book II. - -=ac-quireˈ= (ă-kwīrˈ), gain. - -=a-cuˈmen= (ȧ-kūˈmĕn), keenness, shrewdness. - -=adˈage= (ădˈăj), an old saying. - -=adˌa-manˈtine= (ȧdˌȧ-mănˈtĭn), impenetrable, hard. - -=a-daptˈing= (ȧ-dăptˈĭng), fitting, adjusting. - -=adˈder= (ădˈẽr), a kind of snake. - -=ad-dressˈ= (ă-drĕsˈ), skill, tact; to make a speech. - -=adˈe-quate= (ădˈe᷵-kwa᷵t), sufficient. - -=ad-herˈence= (ăd-hērˈĕns), steady attachment, fidelity. - -=ad-herˈent= (ăd-hērˈĕnt), follower. - -=a-dieuˈ= (ȧ-dūˈ), farewell, good-by. - -=ad-jaˈcent= (ă-jāˈsĕnt), near by. - -=ad-justˈ= (ă-jŭstˈ), to arrange. - -=ad-minˈis-ter= (ăd-mĭnˈĭs-tẽr), to apply, serve out. - -=ad-minˌis-traˈtion= (ăd-mĭnˌĭs-trāˈshŭn), management of public affairs. - -=adˈmi-ra-ble= (ădˈmĭ-ra᷵-b’l), wonderful, marvelous. - -=adˈmi-ral= (ădˈmĭ-răl), a naval officer of the highest rank. - -=a-dornˈ= (ȧ-dôrnˈ), to set off to advantage, beautify, decorate. - -=a-dornˈment of all India= (ȧ-dôrnˈmĕnt), a flattering phrase—one that -helps to beautify India. - -=a-droitˈness in traffic= (ȧ-droitˈnĕs, trăfˈĭk), skill in bargaining or -commerce. - -=ad-vanceˈ= (ăd-vănsˈ), offer, set forth. - -=adˌvan-taˈgeous-ly= (ădˌvăn-tāˈjŭs-lĭ), beneficially. - -=ad-venˈture= (ăd-vĕnˈtu᷵r), undertaking. - -=ad-venˈtur-ous= (ăd-vĕnˈtu᷵r-ŭs), daring. - -=adˈver-sa-ries= (ădˈvẽr-sa᷵-rĭz), foes, opponents. - -=adˈverse= (ădˈvẽrs), unfavorable. - -=ad-vertˈ= (ăd-vûrtˈ), to refer, allude. - -=ad-visˈa-ble= (ăd-vīzˈȧ-b’l), desirable. - -=adˈvo-cate= (ădˈvō-ka᷵t), counselor, one who pleads for another. - -=a-eˈri-al= (ā-ēˈrĭ-ăl), airy, pertaining to air - -=af-fectˈed= (ă-fĕktˈĕd), fancied; laid hold of. - -=af-fectsˈ so many genˈer-ous senˈti-ments= (ă-fĕktsˈ; jĕnˈẽr-ŭs; -sĕnˈtĭ-mĕnts), assumes so many noble feelings. - -=af-frontˈed= (ă-frŭnˈtĕd), provoked, nettled. - -=aft= (ȧft), toward the rear part of a vessel. - -=Agˈas-siz= (ăgˈȧ-se᷵). - -=aˈged= (āˈjĕd), old. - -=agˈgra-vatˌed= (ăgˈgrȧ-vātˌĕd), added to, magnified. - -=ag-gresˈsion= (ă-grĕshˈŭn), an unprovoked attack, invasion. - -=a-ghastˈ= (a-gȧstˈ), amazed, astounded. - -=agˈile= (ăjˈĭl), lively. - -=agˌi-taˈtion= (ăjˌī-tāˈshŭn), a stirring up or arousing commotion. - -=Agˈra-vaine= (ăgˈrȧ-vān). - -=a-greeˈ= (ȧ-grēˈ), be in accord. - -=aˈgue= (ȧˈgū), chill. - -=aidˈde-camp= (ādˈde᷵-kămp, ādˈdē-kän), an officer who assists a general -in correspondence and in directing movements. - -=alˈa-basˌte=r (ălˈȧ-bȧsˌtẽr), white stone resembling marble. - -=alˌ-beˈit= (ălˌbēˈĭt), although. - -=Al-giersˈ= (ăl-jērzˈ), seaport in Africa. - -=Al-hamˈbra= (ăl-hămˈbrȧ), the fortress, palace, or alcazar, of the -Moorish kings. - -=alˈien= (ālˈyĕn), foreign, strange. - -=A-li-eˈna= (ā-lĭ-ēˈnä). - -=al-leˈgiance= (ă-lēˈjăns), loyalty, allegiance merely nominal, loyalty -so-called, not real. - -=al-legˈing= (ă-lĕjˈĭng), declaring, asserting. - -=al-litˌer-aˈtion= (ă-lĭtˌẽr-āˈshŭn), repetition of the same letter or -sound at the beginning of two or more words immediately succeeding each -other. - -=al-lotˈment= (ă-lŏtˈmĕnt), share by chance. - -=al-lowˈance= (ă-lŏwˈăns), share. - -=al-ludeˈ= (ă-lūdˈ), refer, hint. - -=al-luˈsion= (ă-lūˈzhŭn), indirect reference, hint. - -=al-lyˈ= (ă-līˈ), partner, relative. - -=Almesˈbury= (ämzˈbẽr-ĭ). - -=alms= (ämz), charity. - -=a-loftˈ= (ȧ-lŏftˈ), to the mast head, overhead. - -=a-loofˈ= (ä-lo̅o̅fˈ), apart. - -=al-terˈnate= (ăl-tûrˈna᷵t; ălˈtẽr-nāt), by turns. - -=al-terˈna-tive= (ăl-tûrˈnä-tĭv), choice. - -=amˌa-teurˈ in-specˈtion= (ămˌȧ-tûrˈ ĭn-spĕkˈshŭn), not professional -inspection. - -=amature=, dialect for =amˌa-teurˈ= (ămˌȧ-tûrˈ), a beginner, not a -professional. - -=Amˌa-zoˈni-an= (ămˌȧ-zōˈnĭ-ăn), of or pertaining to the river Amazon. - -=Amˌba-arˈen= (ămˌbȧ-ärˈĕn). - -=ambitious projects=, schemes for greater power. - -=amˈbush= (ămˈbo͡osh), concealed place, snare. - -=a-mendˈ= (ȧ-mĕndˈ), make better, give back. - -=aˈmi-a-ble= (āˈmĭ-ȧ-b’l), friendly. - -=a-midˈships= (ȧ-mĭdˈshĭps), in the middle of a ship. - -=amˈi-ty= (ămˈĭ-tĭ), friendship. - -=amˈo-rou=s (ămˈō-rŭs), loving. - -=aˌmoursˈ= (ȧˌmo̅o̅rzˈ), loves. - -=Am-phicˈty-on= (ăm-fĭkˈtĭ-ŏn), an assembly of deputies from the -different states of Greece. - -=anˌa-conˈda= (ănˌȧ-kŏnˈdȧ), a large snake. - -=a-natˈo-my= (ă-nătˈō-mĭ), the science which treats of the structure of -the body. - -=Anˈdre=, =Major= (änˈdra᷵), a British officer in the Revolutionary War -who was arrested at Tarrytown and executed as a spy. - -=anˈec-dote= (ănˈĕk-dōt), particular incident or fact of an interesting -nature. - -=an-gelˈic kinˈdred= (ăn-jĕlˈĭk kĭnˈdrĕd), heavenly relationship. - -=anˈguish= (ănˈgwĭsh), agony, distress. - -=anˈi-mate= (ănˈĭ-māt), to enliven, inspire. - -=anˈkus= (ănˈkŭs), an elephant goad. - -=Anˈnoure= (ănˈōr), a sorceress of King Arthur’s time. - -=an-nulˈ= (ăn-nŭlˈ), to cancel, abolish. - -=a-nonˈ= (ȧ-nŏnˈ), soon. - -=An-taeˈus= (ăn-tēˈŭs), a son of Poseidon. He was of gigantic size and -strength, and grew stronger as long as he touched his mother Earth. - -=an-tagˈo-nist= (ăn-tăgˈō-nĭst), opponent. - -=anˈte= (ănˈte᷵), to put up. - -=anˈthem= (ănˈthĕm), a song of praise. - -=an-ticˈi-pate= (ăn-tĭsˈĭ-pāt), to have a previous view of what is to -happen. - -=anˈti-quatˌed= (ănˈtĭ-kwātˌĕd), old fashioned. - -=anˈvil= (ănˈvĭl), a block usually of iron, steel faced, and of -characteristic shape, on which metal is shaped as by hammering or forging. - -=apˈa-thy= (ăpˈȧ-thĭ), lack of feeling. - -=aˈpex= (āˈpĕks), summit, point. - -=apˈing= (āpˈĭng), mimicing, imitating. - -=a-pocˌa-lypˈti-cal= (ȧ-pŏkˌȧ-lĭpˈtĭ-kăl), revealing. - -=a-posˈtle= (ȧ-pŏsˈ’l), one of the twelve disciples of Christ, specially -chosen as his companions and witnesses, and sent forth to preach the -gospel. - -=apˌos-tolˈic= (ȧpˌŏs-tŏlˈĭk), like one having a great mission. - -=ap-pallˈing= (ă-pôlˈĭng), fearful, unusual. - -=ap-parˈel= (ă-părˈĕl), clothing. - -=ap-parˈent= (ă-pârˈĕnt), easily seen, seeming. - -=apˌpa-riˈtion= (ăpˌȧ-rĭshˈŭn), ghost. - -=apˌper-tainˈing= (ăpˌẽr-tānˈĭng), belonging to. - -=apˈpli-ca-ble= (ăpˈlĭ-kȧ-b’l), suitable. - -=ap-preˌci-aˈtion= (ă-prēˌshĭ-āˈshūn), valuation, estimate. - -=apˌpre-hendˈ= (ăpˌre᷵-hĕndˈ), fear; seize. - -=apˌpre-henˈsion= (ăpˌre᷵-hĕnˈshŭn), distrust, suspicion, fear. - -=apˌpre-henˈsive= (ăpˌre᷵-hĕnˈsĭv), quick to learn or grasp. - -=ap-proachˈ= (ă-prōchˈ), to draw near to stealthily. - -=apˌpro-baˈtion= (ăpˌrō-bāˈshŭn), liking. - -=apt= (ăpt), suitable. - -=aptness to acts of violence=, tending to commit deeds of violence, -tendency to kill. - -=Arˈa-bic= (ărˈȧ-bĭk), the Arabs’ language. - -=arˈbi-tra-ry= (ärˈbĭ-tra᷵-rĭ), irresponsible. - -=arˈbu-tus= (ärˈbu᷵-tŭs; är-būˈtŭs), a small trailing plant having -fragrant flowers. - -=Arˌca-bu-ceˈro= (ärˌkä-bo̅o̅-thāˈrō), a soldier armed with firearms of -the middle fifteenth century. - -=arˈchi-tect= (ärˈkĭ-tĕkt), master builder, designer. - -=arˈchi-tecˌture= (ärˈkĭ-tĕkˌtu᷵r), art or science of building. - -=arˈdent= (ärˈdĕnt), fervent, glowing. - -=arˈdor= (ärˈdẽr), heat, zeal. - -=arˈdu-ous= (ärˈdu᷵-ŭs), hard, difficult. - -=arˈgent= (ärˈjĕnt), silver. - -=A-riˈca= (ä-rĕˈkä), in Chile. - -=Aˈri-el= (āˈrĭ-ĕl). - -=Ar-maˈda= (är-māˈdä), a fleet; especially the great Spanish fleet -defeated by England in 1588. - -=ar-maˈdos= (är-māˈdōs), large ships, battleships. - -=arˈmor-er= (ärˈmẽr-ẽr), one who cleans and repairs the small arms or -iron parts on a ship. - -=arms at the trail=, a military term, rifles carried at side in -horizontal position. - -=arˈrack= (ărˈăk), liquor made from rice, or molasses, or the sap of -palms. - -=arˈrant= (ărˈănt), downright. - -=ar-rayˈ= (ă-rāˈ), order, dress. - -=arˈro-gance= (ărˈō-găns), pride. - -=arˈse-nal= (ärˈse᷵-năl), a public establishment for the storage or -manufacture of arms and military equipment. - -=ar-tifˈi-cer= (är-tĭfˈĭ-sẽr), skilled worker. - -=arˌti-fiˈcial-ly= (ärˌtĭ-fĭshˈă-lĭ), not genuinely. - -=as-cendˈan-cy= (ă-sĕnˈdăn-sĭ), control, superiority. - -=as-cendˈing= (ă-sĕndˈĭng), moving or climbing upward. - -=asˌcer-tainˈ= (ăsˌẽr-tānˈ), find out for a certainty. - -=as-cribˈing= (ăs-krībˈĭng), attributing, assigning. - -=asˈpect= (ăsˈpĕkt), appearance. - -=Asˈpi-net= (ăsˈpĭ-nĕt), an Indian chief. - -=asˌpi-raˈtion= (ăsˌpĭ-rāˈshŭn), high desire. - -=as-sailˈ= (ă-sālˈ), attack. - -=as-sailˈant= (ă-sālˈănt), one that attacks. - -=as-saultˈ= (ă-sôltˈ), attack. - -=as-sertˈ= their lordship (ă-sûrtˈ), state their right to rule. - -=as-simˌi-latˈing= (ă-sĭmˌĭ-lātˈĭng), resembling. - -=as-suredˈ= (ă-sho̅o̅rdˈ), made sure. - -=as-surˈed-ly= (ă-sho̅o̅rˈĕd-lĭ), certainly. - -=Asˈta-roth= (ăsˈtȧ-rŏth), the Phoenician goddess of love. - -=asthˈma= (ăzˈmȧ), a disease causing difficulty of breathing. - -=Asˈto-lat= (ăsˈtō-lȧt), a name for Guildford, Surrey, England. - -=astral lamp= (ăsˈtrăl), a kind of brilliant lamp. - -=Atherfield= (ăthˈẽr-fēld). - -=ath-letˈic= (ăth-lĕtˈĭk), strong, muscular. - -=a-thwartˈ= (ȧ-thwôrtˈ), across. - -=Atˈlas= (ătˈlăs), in Greek mythology, a god who bore up the pillars -which upheld the heavens. - -=a-toneˈ= (ȧ-tōnˈ), to make satisfaction for. - -=a-troˈcious= (ȧ-trōˈshŭs), wicked, terrible. - -=a-trocˈi-ties= (ȧ-trŏsˈĭ-tĭz), savagely brutal deeds. - -=at-tendˈance= (ă-tĕnˈdăns), service. - -=atˌtenˈtive-ly scruˈti-nized= (ă-tĕnˌtĭv-lĭ skro̅o̅ˈtĭ-nīzd), examined -closely. - -=atˈti-tude= (ătˈĭ-tŭd), posture or position. - -=atˈtri-bute= (ăˈtrĭ-būt), quality. - -=Auchmuty=, =Judge= (ŏkˈmu᷵-tĭ), British general (1756-1822). - -=au-daˈcious= (ô-dāˈshŭs), impudent, daring. - -=auˈdi-ble= (ôˈdĭ-b’l), actually heard. - -=auˈdi-tor= (ôˈdĭ-tẽr), a hearer, listener. - -=aug-mentˈed= (ôg-mĕntˈĕd), increased. - -=auld= (ôld; äld), Scotch for old. - -=aus-tereˈ= (ôs-tērˈ), stern, severe. - -=au-thenˈtic= (ô-thĕnˈtĭk), real, trustworthy, true. - -=auˌthen-ticˈi-ty= (ôˌthĕn-tĭsˈĭ-tĭ), genuineness. - -=au-thorˈi-ta-tive= (ô-thŏrˈĭ-ta᷵-tĭv), commanding, positive. - -=auˌto-bi-ogˈra-phy= (ôˌtō-bī-ŏgˈrȧ-fĭ), history of one’s life written by -himself. - -=auˈto-crat= (ôˈtō-krăt), an absolute monarch. - -=auˌto-cratˈic= (ôˌtō-krătˈĭk), absolute. - -=au-tumˈnal= (ô-tŭmˈnăl), belonging to, or like autumn. - -=aux-ilˈia-ry= (ôg-zĭlˈyȧ-rĭ), helper, assistant. - -=a-vengedˈ= (ȧ-vĕnjdˈ), punished the injuring party. - -=a-verseˈ= (ȧ-vẽrsˈ), disinclined, contrary. - -=aversion=, =unbounded= (ȧ-vûrˈshŭn), unlimited dislike. - -=A-vilˈion= (ȧ-vĭlˈyŏn), in Celtic mythology an earthly paradise in the -western seas where heroes were carried at death. - -=avˌo-caˈtions= (ăvˌō-kāˈshŭnz), pursuits. - -=a-vowˈal= (ȧ-vouˈăl), declaration. - -=awed= (ôd), struck with great fear. - -=Ayˈmer de Vaˈlence= (āˈmẽr da᷵ väˈlŏns). - -=Ayr= (âr), a seaport in southwestern Scotland. - -=A-zoresˈ= (ā-zōrzˈ), islands near and belonging to Portugal. - -=azˈure= (ăzhˈu᷵r), sky-blue. - -=Baˈal= (bāˈăl), a Phoenician god whose worship was attended by wild -revelry. - -=babˈble= (băbˈ’l), utter unintelligible sounds, prattle. - -=Babˌy-loˈni-an vauntˈing= (Băbˌĭ-lōˈnĭ-ăn väntˈĭng), referring to the -hanging gardens of Babylon, one of the seven wonders of the world. - -=bachˈe-lor= (băchˈē-lẽr), the lowest university degree. - -=Bacon=, =Sir Francis=, English philosopher and statesman (1561-1626). - -=bade= (băd), ordered, commanded. - -=badge of his au-thorˈi-ty= (băj of his ô-thŏrˈĭ-tĭ), sign of his power. - -=bafˈfled= (băfˈ’ld), defeated, thwarted. - -=balˈdric= (bôlˈdrĭk), a broad belt, worn over one shoulder, across the -breast and under the opposite arm. - -=balˈing= (bālˈĭng), dipping out water; making large bundles for shipping. - -=balˈlast= (bălˈȧst), any heavy substance put into the hold of a ship to -sink it in the water. - -=bam-booˈ= (băm-bo̅o̅ˈ), a woody kind of grass. - -=Bancroft=, =George=, American historian. - -=baneˈful= (bānˈfo͡ol), injurious, deadly. - -=bang= (băng), a thump, a whack. - -=bar=, an obstructing bank of sand. - -=barb= (bärb), horse - -=Barbary powers=, the countries on the north coast of Africa, from Egypt -to the Atlantic. - -=bard= (bärd), a poet. - -=barge= (bärj), a vessel or boat of state elegantly furnished and -decorated. - -=bark= (bärk), a three-masted vessel. - -=ba-roucheˈ= (bȧ-ro̅o̅shˈ), a four-wheeled carriage, with a falling top, -and two double seats on the inside. - -=Barreˈ, Colonel= (bȧˈrāˈ), a British officer and politician. - -=barˈren= (bărˈĕn), sterile, fruitless, empty. - -=barˌri-cadeˈ= (bărˌĭ-kādˈ), a bar or obstruction. - -=barˈter= (bärˈtẽr), to trade one article for another. - -=basˈtions= (băsˈchŭnz), walls. - -=Bath-sheˈba= (Băth-shēˈbȧ), the wife of Uriah the Hittite. 2 Samuel II. - -=batˈten= (bătˈ’n), to fasten down with strips of wood. - -=Baudˈwin= (bôdˈwĭn). - -=beam-ends= (bēm-ĕndz), to lie upon the beam-ends, to incline, as a -vessel, so much on one side that her beams approach a vertical position. - -=bear sway=, rule. - -=Beauˈmains= (bōˈmānz). - -=be-calmˈ= (be᷵-kämˈ), to stop the progress of the boat by lack of wind. - -=be-daubedˈ= (bē-dôbdˈ), covered, coated. - -=Bedˈi-vere= (bĕdˈĭ-vēr). - -=beeˈtling= (bēˈtlĭng), projecting. - -=be-fitsˈ the scene= (be᷵-fĭtˈ), suits or becomes the place. - -=beget that golden time again=, recall to mind that wonderful time again. - -=begˈgar de-scripˈtion=, phrase used to imply great magnificence. - -=be-guiledˈ= (be᷵-gīldˈ), lured - -=be-guilˈing= (be᷵-gīlˈĭng), whiling away. - -=be-hests= (be᷵-hĕstsˈ), commands. - -=be-hooveˈ= (be᷵-ho̅o̅vˈ), is proper for, suits. - -=be-laˈbor-ing= (bē-lāˈbe᷵r-ĭng), thrashing. - -=belaying pins= (bē-lāyˈĭng), strong cleats around which ropes are made -fast. - -=belch= (bĕlch), to throw out. - -=belˈfry= (bĕlˈfrĭ), room in a tower where a bell is hung. - -=Bellˈi-cent= (bĕlˈĭ-sĕnt). - -=bel-ligˈer-ent= (bĕ-lĭjˈẽr-ĕnt), warlike. - -=belˈlow= (bĕlˈō), to roar, clamor. - -=belˈlows= (bĕlˈōz), an instrument for blowing fires. - -=be-neathˈ= (be᷵-nēthˈ). - -=benˌe-dicˈtion= (bĕnˌe᷵-dĭkˈshŭn), blessing. - -=benˌe-facˈtor= (bĕnˌe᷵-făkˈtẽr), one who does good. - -=be-nefˈi-cence= (be᷵-nĕfˈĭ-sĕns), goodness. - -=be-nevˈo-lent= (be᷵-nĕvˈō-lĕnt), kind. - -=Ben-galˈ= (bĕn-gôlˈ), a division of British India. - -=be-nignˈ= (be᷵-nīnˈ), of a kind disposition. - -=be-nigˈnant= (be᷵-nĭgˈnănt), kind. - -=Benˈwick= (bĕnˈĭk). - -=be-reavedˈ= (be᷵-rēvdˈ), deprived. - -=be-reaveˈment= (be᷵-rēvˈmĕnt), the loss of a loved one by death. - -=Berˈnard, Francis, Sir= (bûrˈnȧrd). - -=berˈserk= (bûrˈsûrk), a wild warrior of heathen times in Scandinavia. - -=be-setˈ= (be᷵-setˈ), surrounded. - -=be-stirsˈ him well= (be᷵-stûrzˈ), moves about briskly, or busily. - -=be thy man=, be loyal to you as a vassal. - -=be-trayˈ= (be᷵-trāˈ), to show or indicate. - -=bevˈy= (bĕvˈĭ), flock. - -=be-yondˈ perˌad-venˈture= (bē-yŏndˈ pĕrˌăd-vĕnˈtu᷵r), without doubt. - -=beˈzoar= (bēˈzōr), a mineral matter found in the digestive organs of -certain animals, supposed to be an antidote for poison. - -=biˈas= (bīˈăs), to prejudice, change. - -=bickˈer-ing= (bĭkˈẽr-ĭng), wrangling. - -=bide my time=, pass my life. - -=bigˈot-ed= (bĭgˈŭt-ĕd), prejudiced, narrow minded toward others’ -opinions. - -=bi-ogˈra-phy= (bī-ŏgˈrȧ-fĭ), the written history of a person’s life. - -=Bisˈcay-an= (bĭsˈkā-ăn), belonging to Spaniards of Biscay. - -=bisˈcuit= (bĭsˈkĭt), hard-tack, a kind of hard sea bread baked in large -round cakes, without salt. - -=biˈson= (bīˈsŭn), the buffalo. - -=bite the dust=, to die on the battlefield. - -=bitter east=, a cold, east wind. - -=bivˈouac= (bĭvˈwăk), encampment of soldiers in the open air prepared for -fighting. - -=blade= (blād), a wild fellow. - -=Blake, Robert= (1599-1657), a British admiral. - -=blared across the shalˈlows= (blârd across the shălˈōz), made a noise -like a trumpet across the shoals, or shallow places in the river. - -=blastˈed= (blȧstˈed), withered or blighted. - -=blazed= (blāzd), marked (a tree) by chipping off a piece of bark. - -=blaˈzon= (blāˈz’n), a coat of arms. - -=bleak= (blēk), without color, pale, barren. - -=blench= (blĕnch), to draw back, shrink from. - -=Bligh= (blī). - -=blight= (blīt), to ruin, frustrate. - -=Blighty= (blīˈtĭ), the British soldier’s slang for =home=. - -=blitheˈsome= (blīthˈsŭm), cheery, gay. - -=block chafes= (chāfs), anything goes wrong. - -=blossom into melody=, break into song. - -=blow= (blō), to blossom; =blows his nail=; blows on his fingers to warm -them. - -=bluff= (blŭff), rough and hearty. - -=boar= (bōr), a wild hog. - -=boasts a crown=, is proud of its empire. - -=bob-linˈcon=, bobolink, an American bird. - -=Boche= (bōsh), a name given by the French to the German soldier. - -=bodˈed ill= (bōdˈĕd), foretold ill. - -=bog= (bŏg), swamp, marsh. - -=boisterous rapidity= (boisˈtẽr-ŭs rȧ-pĭdˈĭ-tĭ), roaring rate. - -=bomb= (bŏm; bŭm), a shell, especially a spherical shell, like those -fired from mortars. - -=Bonˌa-ven-ˌture=ˈ (bōnˌă-vĕn-ˌtūrˈ), a ship of England’s fleet. - -=bonny bird=, the fair lady. - -=boon= (bo̅o̅n), favor; gay. - -=bosˈom= (bo͡ozˈŭm), heart. - -=botˈtoms= (bŏtˈŭmz), bed of river, valley. - -=bounˈti-ful= (bounˈtĭ-fo͡ol), liberal, generous. - -=bou-quetˈ= (bo̅o̅-kāˈ), a bunch of flowers. - -=bour-geoisˈ= (bo̅o̅r-zhwȧˈ), head man. - -=bow= (bou), the forward part of a vessel. - -=bowˈer= (bouˈẽr), a lady’s private apartment. - -=Boylsˈton= (boilzˈtŭn). - -=Bra-bantˈ= (brȧ-băntˈ), a province of Belgium. - -=brackˈish= (brăkˈĭsh), salt, distasteful. - -=braes of broom= (brā, bro̅o̅m), hillsides covered with low shrubs -bearing yellow flowers. - -=brake= (brāk), thicket. - -=brand= (brănd), a burning piece of wood; sword. - -=Branˈdi-les= (brănˈdĭ-lēz). - -=brat= (brăt), a child. - -=Brathˈwick= (brăthˈĭk). - -=brawlˈing= (brôlˈĭng), quarreling noisily. - -=breach= (brēch), an opening, a quarrel. - -=breakˈer= (brākˈẽr), waves breaking into foam against the shore or reef. - -=breastˈing= (brĕstˈĭng), forcing one’s way. - -=breechˈes= (brĭchˈĕz), trousers. - -=briˈer= (brīˈẽr), any plant with a woody stem bearing thorns or -prickles. - -=brig= (brĭg), a two-masted vessel. - -=bri-gadeˈ= (brĭ-gādˈ), a body of troops consisting of two or more -regiments. - -=brigˈan-tine= (brĭgˈăn-tēn), a two-masted vessel, square rigged forward -and schooner rigged aft. - -=brinˈdled= (brĭnˈd’ld), having dark streaks or spots on a gray or tawny -ground, streaked. - -=bring him to knowledge= (nŏlˈĕj), recognize him. - -=brink= (brĭnk), verge or edge. - -=Britˈta-ny= (brĭtˈȧ-nĭ), formerly an independent province, now a part of -France. - -=broached= (brōcht), uttered, put forth. - -=broach-to=, to veer suddenly into the wind and expose the vessel to the -danger of capsizing. - -=broad-sideˈ= (brôd-sīdˈ), broad surface of any object. - -=Broadway=, a famous street in New York. - -=broil=, a noisy quarrel. - -=bronˈco= (brŏnˈkō), a small horse or pony. - -=brook= (bro͡ok), to bear, endure. - -=brought to bay=, brought to a standstill. - -=brunt= (brŭnt), the force of a blow, shock. - -=brutˈish= (bro̅o̅tˈĭsh), coarse, stupid. - -=Brutus= (bro̅o̅ˈtŭs), a Roman politician and one of Cæsar’s slayers. - -=bucˈca-neerˌ= (bŭkˈȧ-nērˌ), a robber, pirate. - -=Buchˈan= (bŭkˈăn). - -=Buckˈholm= (bŭkˈhōm). - -=budgˈet= (bŭjˈĕt), stock, accumulation. - -=bufˈfet= (bŭfˈĕt), blow. - -=bullˈdozˌing= (bo͡olˈdōzˌĭng), restraining by threats or violence. -[Slang, U. S.] - -=bulˈlied= (bo͡olˈĭd), intimidated or frightened. - -=bulˈlion= (bo͡olˈyŭn), uncoined gold or silver. - -=bulˈly-rag= (bo͡olˈĭ-răg), to scare by bullying. - -=bulˈrushˌes= (bo͡olˈrŭshˌĕz), a kind of large rush growing in water. - -=bulˈwark= (bo͡olˈwȧrk), the side of a ship above the upper deck; a -protecting wall, sea wall. - -=bumpˈkin= (bŭmpˈkĭn), an awkward, heavy fellow. - -=buoyˈant= (boiˈănt), tending to rise or float. - -=buoyˈant-ly= (bouˈănt-lĭ), lightly. - -=burˈgess= (bûrˈjĕs), a resident of a town. - -=burghˈer= (bûrˈgẽr), a freeman of a borough, an enfranchised male -citizen. - -=Burˈgo-masˌter= (bûrˈgō-mȧsˌtẽr), the chief magistrate of a town in -Holland. - -=bur-lesqueˈ= (bûr-lĕskˈ), droll, treated ridiculously as a caricature. - -=burˈnish= (bûrˈnĭsh), to make bright, to polish. - -=burˈthen= (bûrˈth’n), burden. - -=busˈkin= (bŭsˈkĭn), a covering for the foot coming some distance up the -leg. - -=buttes= (būts), hills, small mountains. - -=buxˈom= (bŭkˈsŭm), plump and rosy. - -=by sheer weight= (shēr), by the very weight, by weight alone. - -=Byles, Mather= (bīlz), American clergyman. - -=Caer-leˈon= (kär-lēˈŏn), a town in south-western England, the -traditional seat of King Arthur’s court. - -=ca-lamˈi-ties= (kă-lămˈĭ-tēz), misfortunes, disasters. - -=Caˌla-veˈras= (käˌlȧ-vāˈrȧs), a county in central California. - -=calˈcu-late= (kălˈku᷵-lāt), expect, plan, reckon. - -=Calˈi-ban= (kălˈĭ-băn). - -=calˈklated=, dialect for =calˈcu-late= (kălˈkûlāt). - -=calm= (käm), freedom from motion, quiet. - -=calˈthrop= (kălˈthrŏp), steel spike. - -=Camˈel-iard= (kămˈĕl-yärd), the home of Leodogran. - -=Camˈe-lot= (kămˈe᷵-lŏt), a legendary spot in southern England where -Arthur was said to have had his court and palace. - -=Campˈbell, Thomˈas= (kămˈĕl; kămˈbĕl). - -=canˈdid= (kănˈdĭd), fair, just. - -=canˈo-py= (kănˈō-pĭ), covering, shelter. - -=canˈyon= (kănˈyŭn), a deep valley with high, steep slopes. - -=ca-paˈcious= (kȧ-pāˈshŭs), broad, large. - -=ca-pacˈi-ty= (kȧ-păsˈĭ-tĭ), ability, power, position, extent of room or -space. - -=caˈper= (kāˈpẽr), =cutting a caper=, to leap about in a frolicsome -manner. - -=capˈi-tal= (kăpˈĭ-tăl), stock of accumulated wealth; seat of government. - -=ca-priˈcious= (kȧ-prĭshˈŭs), fitful, whimsical. - -=carˈcas-ses= (kärˈkȧs-ĕz), dead bodies, of beasts. - -=cardˈed= (kärˈdĕd), made ready for spinning by the use of a card. - -=ca-reerˈing= (kȧ-rērˈĭng), moving or running rapidly. - -=carˈi-bou= (kărˈĭ-bo̅o̅), a species or kind of reindeer found in North -America and Greenland. - -=carol so madly=, sing so joyfully. - -=Carˈrick= (kărˈĭk). - -=carˈtridge= (kärˈtrĭj), a case or shell holding a complete charge for a -firearm. - -=caseˈment= (kāsˈmĕnt), a hinged window sash. - -=case under native rule=, if the people of India ruled themselves. - -=casˈu-al= (kăzhˈu᷵-ăl), occasional, happening without design. - -=catˈa-ract= (kătˈȧ-răkt), a great fall of water over a precipice. - -=ca-tasˈtro-phe= (kȧ-tăsˈtrō-fe᷵), disaster, calamity, misfortune. - -=ca-theˈdral= (kȧ-thēˈdrăl), the church which contains the bishop’s -official chair or throne. - -=cauld= (kawld), Scotch for =cold=. - -=causeˈway= (kôzˈwā), a raised road over wet ground. - -=cauˈtious= (kôˈshŭs), watchful, wary, careful. - -=cavˌal-cadeˈ= (kăvˌăl-kādˈ), a procession of persons on horseback. - -=cavˌa-lierˈ= (kăvˌȧ-lērˈ), a leader in the party of King Charles I; -knight, gallant. - -=ca-vortˈing= (kȧ-vôrtˈĭng), prancing. - -=cavˈi-ty= (kăvˈĭ-tĭ), a hollow place. - -=cay= (kā), Spanish for =quay=. - -=ceased= (sēst), stopped, left off. - -=ceaseˈless= (sēsˈlĕs), without stop. - -=ce-lesˈtial= (se᷵-lĕsˈchăl), heavenly, divine. - -=cenˈsure= (sĕnˈshu᷵r), disapproval, hostile criticism, blame. - -=century-circled=, with circles showing one hundred years’ growth. - -=cerˈe-mo-ny= (sĕrˈe᷵-mō-nĭ), a formal act laid down by custom. - -=ce-ruˈle-an= (se᷵-ro̅o̅ˈle᷵-ăn), deep blue. - -=ces-saˈtion= (sĕ-sāˈshŭn), a stop. - -=chafed= (chāft), rubbed so as to wear away; irritated. - -=chafˈfer= (chăfˈeẽr), bargain, haggle. - -=chaˈos= (kāˈŏs), confused mixture, yawning chasm. - -=cha-otˈic= (ka᷵-ŏtˈĭk), confused. - -=chalˈlenge= (chălˈĕnj), act of defiance. - -=chamˈpi-on= (chămˈpĭ-ŭn), supporter, defender. - -=’Change= (chānj), for =Exchange=, a place where merchants and others -meet to transact business. - -=chant= (chȧnt), a song resembling a church chant; the recitation of -words in musical monotones; to sing. - -=chanˈti-cleer= (chănˈtĭ-klēr), cock. - -=chapˈlain= (chăpˈlĭn), a clergyman officially appointed to a court or to -a section of the army or navy. - -=chapˈlet= (chăpˈlĕt), a wreath worn on the head. - -=charge= (chärj), to attack, rush upon; command. - -=charmˈing lay=, pleasing song, poem. - -=charˈter-ing= (chärˈtẽr-ĭng), hiring for exclusive use for some special -purpose. - -=chasm= (kăz’m), a gap or break. - -=chas-tiseˈ= (chăs-tīzˈ), to punish. - -=Chaˈtillˌon= (shäˈtēˌyôn). - -=cherˈished= (chĕrˈĭsht), held dear. - -=cherˈub= (chĕrˈŭb), beautiful child; angel. - -=chid= (chĭd), found fault. - -=chiefˈtain= (chēfˈtĭn), leader. - -=Chiˈhun= (chēˈhŭn). - -=Chilˌli-cothˈe= (chĭlˌĭ-kŏthˈe᷵). - -=chime= (chīm), a set of bells musically tuned. - -=chi-meˈra= (kĭ-mēˈrȧ), an absurd or impossible creature of the -imagination. - -=chip the shell=, to crack the shell of the egg and come out into the -nest. - -=chi-rurˈgeon= (kī-rûrˈjŭn), surgeon. - -=chivˈal-rous= (shĭvˈăl-rŭs), gallant. - -=chivˈal-ry= (shĭvˈăl-rĭ), system of knighthood. - -=cholˈer-ic= (kŏlˈẽr-ĭk), hot-tempered. - -=chopˈfallˌen= (chŏpˈfôlˌ’n), cast down, dejected. - -=Chrisˈten-dom= (krĭsˈ’n-dŭm), the Christian world. - -=chronˈi-cle= (krŏnˈĭ-k’l), record, history. - -=chro-nomˈe-ter= (krō-nŏmˈe᷵-tẽr), an instrument for measuring time. - -=chrysˈo-lite= (krĭsˈō-līt), a semi-precious stone, commonly yellow or -green. - -=churl= (chûrl), one of the lowest class of freemen. - -=cinch= (sĭnch), a strong girth for a pack or saddle. - -=cinˈna-mon= (sĭnˈȧ-mŭn), a dark chestnut-colored bear. - -=cinqueˈfoil= (sĭnkˈfoil), a plant called “five-finger,” because of the -resemblance of the leaves to the fingers of the hand. - -=cirˈcuit= (sûrˈkĭt), act of moving, a route. - -=cirˈcum-stance= (sûrˈkŭm-stăns), situation. - -=cirˌcum-stanˈtial= (sûrˌkŭm-stănˈshăl), detailing all circumstances, -exact. - -=citˈa-del= (sĭtˈȧ-dĕl), a fortress. - -=citˈi-zen-ship= (sĭtˈĭ-z’n-shĭp), state of being a citizen, of owing -allegiance to a government and entitled to protection from it. - -=civˈil= (sĭvˈĭl), of, pertaining to, or made up of citizens, or -individuals taking part in a common society. - -=civˈil of-fiˈcial= (sĭvˈĭl ŏ-fĭshˈăl), officer dealing with ordinary -affairs, or government matters as opposed to military matters. - -=civˈil war=, war between two parties of citizens of the same country. - -=clamˈber-ing= (klămˈbẽr-ĭng), climbing with difficulty. - -=clamˈor= (klămˈẽr), a loud, continued noise, uproar. - -=clanˈgor= (klănˈgẽr), a sharp, harsh, ringing sound. - -=clarˈi-on-et= (klărˈĭ-ŭn-ĕt), properly called clarinet, a musical wind -instrument. - -=clash the cymbals= (sĭmˈbălz), beat the brass half globes or concave -plates clashed together to produce a sharp ringing sound. - -=clenched= (klĕncht), closed tightly. - -=clog= (klŏg), that which hinders or impedes motion. - -=cloisˈter= (kloisˈtẽr), a place for retirement from the world for -religious duties, convent. - -=close dealing=, driving a sharp bargain. - -=close quarters=, near or close to each other. - -=close-reefed vessels=, vessels or boats with their sails tightly folded. - -=cloth of gold=, a fabric woven wholly or partly of threads of gold. - -=cloˈven= (klōˈv’n), divided, cleft. - -=clutch= (klŭtch), grasp. - -=coast was clear=, way was safe. - -=coasting-vessel=, a ship sailing along the coast. - -=cocked= (kŏkt), turned or stuck up. - -=cockˈle-shellˌ= (kŏkˈ’l-shĕlˌ), a certain kind of shell. - -=cog-noˈmen= (kŏg-nōˈmĕn), name. - -=co-inˈci-dence= (kō-ĭnˈsĭ-dĕns), occurrences at the same time. - -=coir-swab= (koir-swŏb), a kind of mop or cloth made from the fiber of -the outer husk of the coconut. - -=Coldˈstream= (Guards), a famous English infantry regiment. - -=collapsed in proportion= (kŏ-lăpstˈ), the other side caved in as far as -the one side puffed out. - -=col-latˈing= (kŏ-lātˈĭng), comparing. - -=collision of waves= (kŏ-lĭzhˈŭn), intermixing of waters. - -=col-loˈqui-al= (kŏ-lōˈkwĭ-ăl), conversational, informal. - -=Co-lomˈbo= (kō-lōmˈbō), capital of Ceylon. - -=co-losˈsal team= (kō-lŏsˈăl), a very large team. - -=colˈum-bine= (kŏlˈŭm-bīn), a flower. - -=colˈumn= (kŏlˈŭm), an upright body or mass. - -=comˈe-dy= (kŏmˈe᷵-dĭ), a drama of light and amusing character. - -=comeˈly= (kŭmˈlĭ), good-looking. - -=com-mandˈment= (kŏ-mȧndˈmĕnt), order. - -=com-memˈo-rate= (kŏ-mĕmˈō-rāt), to celebrate. - -=comˌmen-daˈtion= (kŏmˌĕn-dāˈshŭn), praise, compliment. - -=comˈmen-ta-ries= (kŏmˈĕn-ta᷵-rĭz), notebook, series of memoranda. - -=comˈments= (kŏmˈĕnts), talks, remarks. - -=comˈmen-taˌtor= (kŏmˈĕn-tāˌtẽr), one who writes notes or comments upon -a subject. - -=com-misˈsion= (kŏ-mĭshˈŭn), to appoint. - -=com-misˈsion and con-trolˈ=, authority and rule. - -=com-mitˈ= (kŏ-mĭtˈ), to intrust. - -=com-modˈi-ty= (kŏ-mŏdˈĭ-tĭ), goods, wares. - -=comˈmon= (kŏmˈŭn), joint or mutual. - -=comˈmon-wealthˌ= (kŏmˈŭn-wĕlthˌ), state, republic. - -=com-moˈtion= (kŏ-mōˈshŭn), disturbance. - -=com-muneˈ= (kŏ-mūnˈ), to take counsel. - -=com-muˈni-cate= (kŏ-mūˈnĭ-kāt), to make known. - -=com-panˈion= (kŏm-pănˈyŭn), a stairway from one deck to the other. - -=comˈpass= (kŭmˈpȧs), an instrument for determining directions. - -=com-pasˈsion= (kŏm-păshˈŭn), pity. - -=comˈpe-ten-cy= (kŏmˈpe᷵-tĕn-sĭ), supply. - -=com-petˈi-tor= (kŏm-pĕtˈĭ-tẽr), rival. - -=comˈple-ment= (kŏmˈple᷵-mĕnt), the whole number allowed to a ship. - -=com-pliˈance= (kŏm-plīˈăns), agreement. - -=comˈpli-mentˌ= (kŏmˈplĭ-mĕntˌ), flattery, praise. - -=com-poˈnent= (kŏm-pōˈnĕnt), composing, an ingredient, a part. - -=com-portˈ= (kŏm-pōrtˈ), agree, accord; conduct. - -=comˌpo-siˈtion= (kŏmˌpō-zĭshˈŭn), a literary, musical, or artistic -product. - -=comˌpre-hendˈ= (kŏmˌpre᷵-hĕndˈ), to understand. - -=com-pressˈ= (kŏm-prĕsˈ), to condense. - -=com-priseˈ= (kŏm-prīzˈ), to include. - -=Comˈyn= (kŭmˈĭn), a Scottish noble. - -=con= (kŏn), to study over. - -=con-cedeˈ= (kŏn-sēdˈ), to grant or allow. - -=con-ceiveˈ= (kŏn-sēvˈ), to imagine, think. - -=con-cenˈtric= (kŏn-sĕnˈtrĭk), having a common center. - -=con-cepˈtion= (kŏn-sĕpˈshŭn), idea, notion. - -=conch-shell= (kŏnk-shel), sea-shell. - -=con-cludˈed= (kŏn-klo̅o̅dˈĕd), decided. - -=con-cluˈsion= (kŏn-klo̅o̅ˈzhŭn), end, result. - -=con-cluˈsive= (kŏnˈklo̅o̅ˈsĭv), convincing. - -=con-curˈrence= (kŏn-kŭrˈĕns), approval, consent. - -=con-demned= (kŏn-dĕmdˈ), doomed, sentenced. - -=conˌde-scendˈed= (kŏnˌde᷵-sĕndˈĕd), agreed, consented. - -=conˌde-scenˈsion= (kŏnˌde᷵-sĕnˈshŭn), courtesy, kindness. - -=Coney Island= (kōˈnĭ), an amusement park much frequented by New Yorkers. - -=con-fedˈer-acy= (kŏn-fĕdˈẽr-ȧ-sĭ), states or nations united in a league. - -=conˈfer-ence= (kŏnˈfẽr-ĕns), meeting for discussion. - -=conˈfi-dantˌ= (kŏnˈfi-dăntˌ), one to whom another tells secrets. - -=conˈfi-dent= (kŏnˈfĭ-dĕnt), sure, trustful. - -=con-fineˈ= (kŏn-fīnˈ), to hold back, restrain. - -=con-firmedˈ= (kŏn-fûrmdˈ), chronic, habitual. - -=con-foundˈ= (kŏn-foundˈ), confuse, perplex. - -=con-fuˈsion alone was supreme=, disorder reigned instead of a king. - -=con-genˈial= (kŏn-jēnˈyăl), of the same kind, sympathetic. - -=conˈger= (kŏnˈgẽr), a kind of eel. - -=con-gestˈed= (kŏn-jĕstˈĕd), overcrowded. - -=conˈgre-gate= (kŏnˈgre᷵-gāt), to assemble. - -=conˌgre-gaˈtion= (kŏnˌgre᷵-gāˈshŭn), a gathering. - -=con-jecˈture= (kŏn-jĕkˈtu᷵r), to guess, imagine. - -=conˌnois-seurˈ= (kŏnˌĭ-sûrˈ), one well versed in any subject, expert. - -=con-nuˈbi-al= (kŏ-nūˈbĭ-ăl), of or pertaining to marriage. - -=Co-nonˈchet= (kō-nŏnˈchĕt). - -=con-san-guinˈi-ty= (kŏn-săn-guĭnˈĭ-tĭ), blood relationship. - -=conˈse-cratˌed= (kŏnˈse᷵-krātˌĕd), made sacred or holy. - -=conˈse-quence= (kŏnˈse᷵-kwĕns), result. - -=conˈse-quent= (kŏnˈse᷵-kwĕnt), that which follows, following. - -=con-servˈa-to-ries= (kŏn-sûrˈvȧ-tô-rĭz), greenhouses. - -=con-sidˈer-able= (kŏn-sĭdˈẽr-ȧ-b’l), rather large in extent, of -importance or value. - -=con-sidˌer-aˈtion= (kŏn-sĭdˌẽr-āˈshŭn), careful thought. - -=con-signedˈ= (kŏn-sīndˈ), intrusted, given over. - -=con-so-laˈtion= (kŏn-sŏ-lāˈshŭn), comfort. - -=con-solˈa-to-ry= (kŏn-sŏlˈȧ-tō-rĭ), comforting. - -=con-spicˈu-ous= (kŏn-spĭkˈu᷵-ŭs), plainly seen, striking. - -=conˈsta-ble= (kŭnˈstâˈ-b’l), a township or parish officer. - -=conˈstan-cy= (kŏnˈstăn-sĭ), loyalty, firmness under suffering. - -=constantly acting a studied part=, always acting, not naturally as a -child would, but as his experience has taught him. - -=conˌstel-laˈtion= (kŏnˌstĕ-lāˈshŭn), a number of fixed stars; an -assemblage of splendors. - -=conˈsti-tut-ed= (kŏnˈstĕ-tūt-ĕd), established, formed. - -=conˌsti-tuˈtion= (kŏnˌstĭ-tūˈshŭn), physique, health; a written document -laying down rules for the conduct of affairs. - -=con-strainˈ= (kŏn-strānˈ), to compel, to force. - -=conˈsul= (kŏnˈsŭl), an official appointed by a government to a foreign -country. - -=con-taˈgion= (kŏn-tāˈjŭn), spreading, exciting similar emotions or -conduct in others. - -=conˈtem-plat-ing= (kŏnˈtĕm-plāt-ĭng; kŏn-temˈplāt-ĭng), regarding or -looking at thoughtfully. - -=conˌtem-plaˈtion= (kŏnˌtĕm-plāˈshŭn), study, thought. - -=con-temˈpo-ra-ry= (kŏn-tĕmˈpō-ra᷵-rĭ), living at the same time. - -=con-tempˈtu-ous= (kŏn-tĕmpˈtu᷵-ŭs), scornful, haughty. - -=con-tendˈ= (kŏn-tĕndˈ), to cope, fight. - -=conˈtent= (kŏnˈtĕnt; kŏn-tĕntˈ), that which is contained. - -=con-tentˈed himself= (kŏn-tĕntˈĕd), satisfied himself. - -=con-ti-nentˈal blood in-ter-veinedˈ= (kŏn-tĭ-nĕntˈal; ĭn-tẽr-vāndˈ), -the blood of the East and the West intermingled. - -=con-torˈtion= (kŏn-tôrˈshŭn), twisting. - -=conˈtra-band= (kŏnˈtrȧ-bănd), smuggled. - -=con-tra-dicˈto-ry= (kŏn-trȧ-dĭkˈtō-rĭ), contrary, opposite. - -=con-triˈtion= (kŏn-trĭshˈŭn), deep sorrow. - -=con-trivˈance= (kŏn-trīvˈăns), device, invention. - -=con-trivˈed= (kŏn-trīvdˈ), planned, invented. - -=con-venˈtion-al= (kŏn-vĕnˈshŭn-ăl), dependent on usage, formal. - -=conˈverse= (kŏnˈvûrs), communication, talk, conversation. - -=con-veyˈ= (kŏn-vāˈ), impart, communicate; carry. - -=conˈvo-lutˌed= (kŏnˈvō-lūtˌĕd), rolled together, one part upon another. - -=con-voyˈ= (kŏn-voiˈ), to escort for protection; go with. - -=con-vulˈsion= (kŏn-vŭlˈshŭn), tumult; a violent shaking. - -=coop of the counter=, a small place used for storage purposes in the -stern of the ship. - -=cope= (kōp), to enter into a hostile contest, to struggle. - -=coˈpi-ous-ness= (kōˈpĭ-ŭs-nĕs), fullness, abundance. - -=copse= (kŏps), contracted from =coppice=, a grove of small growth. - -=co-quetteˈ= (kō-kĕtˈ), a flirt. - -=corˈal= (kŏrˈăl), the skeletons of certain small sea-animals, which have -been deposited during the ages and form reefs and islands. - -=Corˈbi-tant= (kôrˈbĭ-tănt), an Indian chief. - -=cordˈage= (kôrˈda᷵j), ropes in the rigging of a ship. - -=corˈdial= (kôrˈjăl), hearty. - -=Corˈdo-van= (kôrˈdō-vȧn), from Cordova, a city in Spain, famous for -leather. - -=corˈdu-royˌ= (kôrˈdŭ-roi; kôrˌdŭ-roiˈ), a kind of coarse, durable cotton -fabric having a surface raised in ridges. - -=cork-heild= (kôrk-hēld), Scotch for =cork-heeled=. - -=corˈmo-rant= (kôrˈmŏ-rănt), a large sea-bird. - -=Cornˈwall= (kôrnˈwôl), county in southwestern England. - -=corˌre-spondˈent= (kŏrˌe᷵-spŏndˈĕnt), a person employed to contribute -news regularly from a particular place or scene of action. - -=corˌre-spondˈing= (kŏrˌe᷵-spŏndˈĭng), matching, similar, agreeing. - -=cor-rupˈtion= (kŏ-rŭpˈshŭn), the change from good to bad, wickedness. - -=corˈsair= (kôrˈsâr), pirate vessel. - -=corseˈlet= (kôrsˈlĕt), armor for the body. - -=cos-mogˈra-pher= (kŏz-mŏgˈrȧ-fẽr), one who knows the science that -teaches how the whole system of worlds is made. - -=cot= (kŏt), cottage. - -=couched= (koucht), placed, put. - -=couˈlies= (ko̅o̅ˈlĭz), the beds of streams, even if dry, when deep and -having inclined sides. - -=counˈcil= (kounˈsĭl), an assembly of persons met to give advice. - -=council board=, meeting of the board. - -=counˈci-lor= (kounˈsĭ-lẽr), a member of a council. - -=counˈseled= (kounˈsĕld), advised. - -=counˈte-nance= (kounˈte᷵-năns), the expression or color of the face; -favor, encouragement. - -=counˈter-feit= (kounˈtẽr-fĭt), to imitate. - -=counˈter-partˈ= (kounˈtẽr-pärtˈ), a copy, duplicate. - -=couˈri-er= (ko̅o̅ˈrĭ-ẽr), a messenger. - -=course= (kōrs), track, way. - -=coursˈer= (kōrˈsẽr), a war horse. - -=courtˈed perˈil= (kōrtˈĕd pĕrˈĭl), sought danger. - -=courˈte-ous= (kûrˈte᷵-ŭs), polite. - -=courˈte-sy= (kûrˈte᷵sī), courtliness. - -=courtˈier= (kōrtˈyĕr), one who attends courts, one having courtly -manners. - -=cove= (kōv), a small sheltered inlet, creek, or bay. - -=covˈe-nant= (kŭvˈe᷵-nănt), an agreement between two or more persons or -parties. - -=covˈer-hauntˈing=, shelter-frequenting. - -=covˈert= (kŭvˈẽrt), shelter, covering. - -=covˈet= (kŭvˈĕt), to wish for eagerly. - -=cowˈer= (kouˈẽr), crouch, quail. - -=crabˈbed-ly honˈest= (krăbˈĕd-lĭ ŏnˈĕst), unpleasantly or sullenly -honest. - -=cradle-crooning=, a lullaby. - -=craft= (krȧft), trade; a vessel. - -=craftˈi-ly= (krȧftˈĭ-lĭ), slyly, cunningly. - -=crafty= (krȧfˈtĭ), skillful, shrewd. - -=crag= (krăg), a steep, rugged rock. - -=crane= (krān), a wading bird, having a long bill and long legs and neck. - -=craˈni-um= (krāˈnĭ-ŭm), skull, head. - -=crankˈy= (krănkˈĭ), out of order, ill-tempered, liable to tip. - -=crave= (krāv), to beg. - -=cre-duˈli-ty= (kre᷵-dūˈlĭ-tĭ), belief or readiness of belief. - -=crest= (krĕst), peak, summit, top. - -=crestˈfall-en= (krĕstˈfôl’n), with hanging head, dejected. - -=crest-waving Hector=, Hector, a famous Trojan warrior, represented with -waving plume, fantastically applied to a weed. - -=crevˈice= (krĕvˈĭs), a small opening. - -=crimp= (krĭmp), to give a wavy appearance to. - -=criˈsis= (krīˈsĭs), decisive moment, time of difficulty. - -=critˈi-cal= (krĭtˈĭ-kăl), with careful judgment, exact. - -=croakˈing= (krōkˈĭng), hoarse, dismal sound. - -=cropˈped= (krŏpt), bit or snipped off. - -=crossˈ-hiltˌed= (krŏsˈhĭltˌĕd), a sword hilt having a cross guard, thus -forming with the blade a Latin cross. - -=cruˈci-fix= (kro̅o̅ˈsĭ-fĭks), a representation of the figure of Christ -upon the cross. - -=cruise= (kro̅o̅z), to wander hither and thither. - -=crulˈler= (krŭlˈẽr), a small, sweet cake fried brown in deep fat. - -=crysˈtal= (krĭsˈtăl), clear. - -=cuckˈoo= (ko͡okˈo̅o̅), a bird grayish brown in color with a note like -the name. - -=cudgˈel= (kŭjˈĕl), a short thick stick; to beat. - -=cuˈli-na-ry= (kūˈlĭ-na᷵-rĭ), of the kitchen, cooking. - -=cullˈing= (kŭlˈĭng), choosing. - -=cumˈber= (kŭmˈbẽr), trouble; vexation. - -=cunˈning= (kŭnˈĭng), skillful, shrewd; craft, wisdom. - -=cuˈpo-la= (kūˈpō-lȧ), a small structure built on top of a building. - -=curb= (kûrb), a chain or strap attached to the upper part of a bit. - -=curbˈstoneˈ= (kûrbˈstōnˈ), an edge stone, a stone set along a margin as -a limit and protection. - -=curˈdling= (kûrˈdlĭng), thickening. - -=cuˈri-ous inˌcon-sisˈten-cy= (kūˈrĭ-ŭs inˌkŏn-sĭsˈtĕn-sĭ), something -strangely out of place with its surroundings. - -=curˈlew= (kûrˈlū), a kind of bird. - -=curˈrent coinˈage= (kŭrˈĕnt koinˈa᷵j), the money in circulation. - -=cutˈlass= (kŭtˈlȧs), a short, heavy, curving sword. - -=cy-linˈdri-cal= (sĭ-lĭnˈdrĭ-kăl), having the form of a cylinder. - -=cynˈi-cal= (sĭnˈĭ-kăl), with sneering disbelief in sincerity. - -=cyˈpress= (sīˈprĕs), a dark-green tree. - -=dabˈbling= (dăbˈlĭng), working slightly or superficially. - -=dalˈli-er= (dălˈĭ-ẽr), one who wastes time. - -=dam= (dăm), the mother bear. - -=Da-masˈcus= (dȧ-măsˈkŭs), a city of Syria, famous for its silks and -steel. - -=dame= (dām), wife. - -=Dan Apolˈlo= (dăn ȧpŏlˈlō), the sun. - -=dangˈling= (dănˈglĭng), hanging loosely. - -=dapˈpled= (dăpˈl’d), spotted. - -=dark as-serˈtion= (ă-sûrˈshŭn), a statement with a hidden meaning. - -=daunt= (dänt), to dismay. - -=de-barkedˈ= (de᷵-bärktˈ), removed from on board a ship. - -=de-bouchˈ= (de᷵-bo̅o̅shˈ), to march out from a wood, defile, etc., into -open ground; issue. - -=de-ceaseˈ= (de᷵-sēsˈ), death. - -=de-ceitˈ= (de᷵-sētˈ), fraud. - -=de-cepˈtion= (de᷵-sĕpˈshŭn), fraud. - -=de-cidˈed-ly= (de᷵-sīdˈĕd-lĭ), unquestionably. - -=de-ciˈpher= (de᷵-sīˈfẽr), to make out or read. - -=de-ciˈsion= (de᷵-sĭzhˈŭn), judgment, conclusion. - -=de-clinˈing= (de᷵-klīnˈĭng), failing. - -=de-clivˈi-ty= (de᷵-klĭvˈĭ-tĭ), slope. - -=de-coˈrum= (de᷵-kōˈrŭm), fitness, propriety. - -=de-creedˈ= (de᷵-krēdˈ), decided, ordered. - -=de-crepˈi-tude= (de᷵-krĕpˈĭ-tūd), weakness. - -=de-facedˈ= (de᷵-fāstˈ), disfigured, marred. - -=de-fendˈant= (de᷵-fĕndˈănt), a person required to make answer (defense) -in an action or suit in law. - -=de-fiˈance= (de᷵-fīˈăns), challenge. - -=de-frayˈ= (de᷵-frāˈ), to pay. - -=de-fyˈ= (de᷵-fīˈ), to challenge. - -=deign= (dān), to condescend. - -=de-jectˈed= (de᷵-jĕkˈtĕd), depressed, sad. - -=de-lecˈta-ble= (de᷵-lĕkˈtȧ-b’l), delightful, delicious. - -=de-libˌer-aˈtion= (de᷵-lĭbˌẽr-āˈshŭn), careful consideration; slowness -in action. - -=de-linˈe-ate= (de᷵-lĭnˈe᷵-āt), to describe. - -=de-lirˈi-ous= (de᷵-lĭrˈĭ-ŭs), insane, raving. - -=de-livˈer-ance= (de᷵-lĭvˈẽr-ăns), rescue. - -=de-ludˈed= (de᷵-lūdˈĕd), misled, disappointed, deceived. - -=delˈuge= (dĕlˈūj), flood. - -=de-luˈsions= (de᷵-lūˈzhŭnz), false beliefs, misleadings. - -=de-luˈsive= (de᷵-lu᷵ˈsĭv), deceptive. - -=delve= (dĕlv), labor. - -=de-meanˈor= (de᷵-mēnˈẽr), manner, conduct. - -=de-morˈal-ized= (de᷵-mŏrˈăl-īzd), cast into disorder. - -=de-nomˈi-natˌed= (de᷵-nŏmˈĭ-nātˌed), called, named. - -=de-plorˈa-bly desˈo-late= (dē-plōrˈȧ-blĭ dĕsˈō-lāt), with nothing to -relieve the gloom. - -=de-ploreˈ= (de᷵-plōrˈ), regret. - -=de-portˈment= (de᷵-pôrtˈmĕnt), behavior. - -=de-posedˈ= (de᷵-pōzdˈ), dethroned, deprived of office. - -=de-preˈci-ate= (de᷵-prēˈshĭ-āt), to lower. - -=depˌre-daˈtion= (dĕpˌre᷵-dāˈshŭn), act of plundering. - -=de-rangedˈ= (de᷵-rānjdˈ), unsettled, disturbed, disarranged. - -=de-scriedˈ= (de᷵-skrīdˈ), beheld. - -=desˈe-crate= (dĕsˈe᷵-krāt), to profane, put to an unworthy cause. - -=desˈo-late= (dĕsˈō-lāt), uninhabited, lonely, forsaken. - -=desˌo-laˈtion= (dĕsˌō-lāˈshŭn), waste, ruin, destruction. - -=desˈper-ate= (dĕsˈpẽr-āt), hopeless, extremely dangerous, mad. - -=desˈper-ate specˌulaˈtion= (dĕsˈpẽr-ȧt spĕkˌu᷵-lāˈshŭn), extreme -uncertainty. - -=de-spondˈen-cy= (de᷵-spŏn-dĕn-sĭ), discouragement, hopelessness. - -=de-spondˈent= (de᷵-spŏnˈdĕnt), low-spirited. - -=des-potˈic= (dĕs-pŏtˈĭk), tyrannical. - -=desˌti-naˈtion= (dĕsˌtĭ-nāˈshŭn), the place set for the end of the -journey. - -=desˈtined= (dĕsˈtĭnd), intended, doomed. - -=desˈti-ny= (dĕsˈtĭ-nĭ), doom, fate. - -=de-tachˈ= (de᷵-tăchˈ), to separate. - -=de-tachˈment= (de᷵-tăchˈmĕnt), a body of troops or part of a fleet sent -on. - -=de-tailˈ= (de᷵-tālˈ; dēˈtāl), an account which dwells on particulars. - -=de-tailedˈ= (de᷵-tāldˈ), related in particulars. - -=de-tainˈ= (de᷵-tānˈ), to stop, keep. - -=de-terˈmined= (de᷵-tûrˈmĭnd), decided, resolute. - -=devˈas-tatˌing= (dĕvˈȧs-tātˌĭng), wasting or ravaging. - -=deˈvi-ous= (dēˈvĭ-ŭs), winding, rambling. - -=de-voidˈ= (de᷵-voidˈ), destitute. - -=dex-terˈi-ty= (dĕks-tĕrˈĭ-tĭ), skill, aptness. - -=dexˈter-ous= (dĕksˈtẽr-ŭs), clever. - -=diˈal= (dīˈăl), face of a watch or clock. - -=diˈa-ry= (dīˈă-rĭ), a record of personal adventures and experiences. - -=dicˈtates of his judgˈment= (dĭkˈtātz; jŭjˈ-mĕnt), those things which -his good sense forces him to do. - -=dicˌta-toˈri-al= (dĭkˌtȧ-tōˈrĭ-ăl), overbearing - -=diˈet= (dīˈĕt), food. - -=difˌfer-enˈti-aˈtion= (dĭfˌẽr-ĕnˈshĭ-āˈshŭn), act of showing the -differences. - -=dif-fuseˈ= (dĭ-fūzˈ), to spread. - -=dif-fuseˈly= (dĭ-fūzˈlĭ), fully, copiously. - -=digˈgers= (dĭgˈẽrz), miners, gold-seekers, especially those lured to -California in 1849, when gold was discovered. - -=di-lapˈi-datˌed= (dĭ-lăpˈĭ-dātˌĕd), out of repair, ruined. - -=di-lateˈ= (dĭ-latˈ; dīˈlāt), to grow large. - -=dilˈi-gence= (dĭlˈĭ-jĕns), care, caution. - -=dilˈi-gent= (dĭlˈĭ-jĕnt), careful. - -=dim twiˈlight of tra-diˈtion= (twīˈlīt; trȧ-dĭˈshŭn), times long past -about which stories are not clear. - -=dinna ye=, pronounce for the meter din’ye; Scotch for =did not you=. - -=dint of much effort=, by means of much labor. - -=direˈful= (dīrˈfo͡ol), terrible. - -=dire-struck= (dīr-strŭk), struck with terror. - -=disˌad-vanˈtage= (dĭsˌăd-vȧnˈta᷵j), unfavorable condition, disadvantage -of situation, having a poorer place to fight. - -=dis-cardˈed= (dĭs-kărdˈĕd), refused. - -=dis-cernˈi-ble= (dĭ-zûrˈnĭ-b’l), seen, distinguishable. - -=disˈci-plined= (dĭsˈĭ-plĭnd), trained. - -=dis-comˈfit-ed= (dĭs-kŭmˈfĭt-ĕd), put to route, defeated. - -=dis-conˈso-late= (dĭs-kŏnˈsō-la᷵t), hopeless, forlorn. - -=dis-cordˈant= (dĭs-kôrˈdănt), incongruous, contrary. - -=dis-courseˈ= (dĭs-kōrsˈ), conversation. - -=dis-credˈit= (dĭs-krĕdˈĭt), to disbelieve, accept as untrue. - -=dis-creˈtion= (dĭs-krĕshˈŭn), judgment, prudence. - -=dis-dainedˈ= (dĭs-dāndˈ), scorned. - -=dis-guiseˈ= (dĭs-gīzˈ), a change in manner or dress to mislead. - -=dis-heartˈen-ing= (dĭs-härˈt’n-ĭng), hopeless. - -=disˈmal-est= (dĭzˈmăl-ĕst), most dreadful. - -=dis-mayˈ= (dĭs-māˈ), fright. - -=dis-missˈ the world= (dĭs-mĭsˈ), leave the world. - -=dis-orˈder-ly rabˈble= (dĭs-ôrˈdẽr-lĭ răbˈb’l), a mob without order. - -=dis-patchˈ= (dĭs-păchˈ), to slay, kill. - -=dis-perseˈ= (dĭs-pûrsˈ), to scatter. - -=disˌpo-siˈtion= (dĭsˌpō-zĭshˈŭn), temper, mood; getting rid of anything. - -=disˌpro-porˈtioned= (dĭsˌprō-pŏrˈshŭnd), not suitable in form, -mismatched. - -=dis-quiˈet= (dĭs-kwīˈĕt), uneasiness, anxiety. - -=dis-ruptˈed= (dĭs-rŭptˈĕd), broken or thrust asunder. - -=dis-secˈtion= (dĭ-sĕkˈshŭn), cutting in pieces. - -=dis-semˈble= (dĭ-sĕmˈb’l), to hide the real facts. - -=dis-solvesˈ= (dĭ-zŏlvzˈ), breaks up, separates. - -=dis-suadeˈ= (dĭ-swādˈ), advise against. - -=disˈtaff= (dĭsˈtȧf), the staff for holding the flax or wool, from which -the thread is drawn in spinning. - -=dis-temˈper= (dĭs-tĕmˈpẽr), general illness. - -=dis-tincˈtive= (dĭs-tĭnkˈtĭv), marking, characteristic. - -=dis-tinˈguished= (dĭs-tĭnˈgwĭsht), marked. - -=dis-tracˈtion= (dĭs-trăkˈshŭn), confusion, disorder, tumult. - -=dis-tribˈut-er= (dĭs-trĭbˈu᷵t-ẽr), one who divides or deals out -something among several or many. - -=ditˈty= (dĭtˈĭ), a little song. - -=diˈvers= (dīˈvẽrz), several, various, different. - -=di-vestˈ= (dĭ-vĕstˈ), to deprive. - -=di-vineˈ= (dĭ-vīnˈ), godlike; to foretell, guess. - -=dockˈ-baˌsin= (dŏkˈ-bāˌs’n), a hollow or inclosed place containing -water, a dock for ships. - -=dogˈged= (dôgˈĕd;—ĭd), sullen. - -=doleˈful fore-bodˈings= (dōlˈfo͡ol fōr-bōdˈĭngz), sad or gloomy -predictions of coming evil. - -=dolˈing= (dōlˈĭng), distributing. - -=Dolˈor-ous Garde= (dŏlˈẽr-ŭs gärd), sorrowful castle. - -=do-mesˈtic e-moˈtions= (dō-mĕsˈtĭk e᷵-mōˈshŭnz). feelings for home -things, family feelings. - -=domˈi-cile= (dŏmˈĭ-sĭl), house. - -=domˈi-nate= (domˈĭ-nāt), to rule. - -=do-minˈion= (dō-mĭnˈyŭn), estate; control. - -=Don Cosˈsacks= (dŏn kŏsˈăks), a warlike people inhabiting the steppes of -Russia along the lower Don. - -=donned= (dŏnd), donned the serge, put on the habit of a monk. - -=Dons= (dŏnz), Spanish noblemen. - -=doˈtard= (dōˈtȧrd), a foolish person, imbecile. - -=doth= (dŭth), third person singular for =do=. - -=doubˌle-reefed tryˈsail= (dŭbˌ’l-rēft trīˈsāl; trīˈs’l), a small sail -taken in twice. - -=douˈblet= (dŭbˈlĕt), a close-fitting garment for men, with or without -sleeves, covering the body. - -=doub-loonˈ= (dŭb-lo̅o̅nˈ), an old Spanish gold coin varying in value at -different times from five to fifteen dollars. - -=doubˈly wild= (dŭbˈlĭ), twice as wild. - -=dram= (drăm), a small drink. - -=draught=; draft (drȧft), act of drinking. - -=draughts that led nowhere= (drȧfts), drinks that did no good. - -=drawˈbridge= (drôˈbrĭj), a bridge of which either the whole or a part -is made to be raised up, let down, or drawn or turned aside, to admit or -hinder communication. - -=dread= (drĕd), fear, imagine. - -=dreadˈnaught= (drĕdˈnôt), a fearless person; a huge battleship. - -=dressed their shields=, prepared their shields for battle. - -=dressˈer= (drĕsˈẽr), a cupboard. - -=drew our sadˈdle-girths= (sădˈ’l-gûrthz), tightened the straps -encircling the body of a horse. - -=drifˈters= (drĭfˈtẽrz), the trawlers, riding at anchor. - -=driftˈwoodˈ= (drĭftˈwo͡odˈ), wood drifted or floated by water. - -=dronˈing= (drōnˈĭng), dull, monotonous humming, deep murmuring. - -=dubbed= (dŭbd), called, named. - -=Duke de la Rowse= (dūke dŭ lȧ rōs). - -=dulse= (dŭls), coarse, red seaweed. - -=Dumferling=, same as Dunfermline. - -=Dum-friesˈ= (dŭm-frēsˈ). - -=dunˈder-pateˌ= (dŭnˈdẽr-pātˌ), blockhead. - -=Dun-fermˈline= (dŭn-fĕrmˈlĭn), a town near Edinburgh, Scotland. - -=duˌpli-caˈtion= (dūˌplĭ-kāˈshŭn), doubling. - -=Durˈham= (dŭrˈăm), a town near Edinburgh, Scotland. - -=dyˈna-mite= (dīˈnȧ-mīt), an explosive. - -=eagle of the sea=, warship. - -=easy wings=, slow-moving wings. - -=ebˈon-y= (ĕbˈŭn-ĭ), a heavy wood from the tropics, capable of a fine -polish; black. - -=ebˌul-liˈtion= (ĕbˌŭ-lĭshˈŭn), outburst. - -=ec-statˈic= (ĕk-stătˈĭk), enthusiastic. - -=edˈdies= (ĕdˈĭz), currents of air or water running contrary to the main -current. - -=edercate=, dialect for =edˈu-cate=. - -=ef-fectˈed= (ĕ-fĕkˈtĕd), done, carried out. - -=ef-feteˈ= (ĕf-fētˈ), exhausted of productive energy, worn out. - -=ef-fiˈcient= (ĕ-fĭshˈĕnt), capable, competent. - -=effˈi-gy= (ĕfˈĭ-jĭ), an image made to represent some person. - -=ef-fulˈgent= (ĕ-fŭlˈjĕnt), shining, bright. - -=eˈgo= (ēˈgō), self. - -=e-jacˌu-laˈtion= (e᷵-jăkˌu᷵-lāˈshŭn), sudden exclamation. - -=eke out= (ēk), to add to or piece out by a small addition. - -=e-lapsedˈ= (e᷵-lăpsdˈ), slipped away. - -=e-lateˈ= (e᷵-lātˈ), exultant. - -=El-do-raˈdo= (ĕl-dō-räˈdō), a fabulous city of great wealth, hence, any -place or region of fabulous richness. - -=e-lecˈtion= (e᷵-lĕkˈshŭn), choice. - -=e-lecˌtion-eerˈ= (e᷵-lĕkˌshŭn-ērˈ), to work for a person or party in an -election. - -=e-lecˈtric telˈe-graph= (e᷵-lĕkˈtrĭk tĕlˈe᷵-grȧf), an apparatus -constructed for sending messages along a wire by means of electricity. - -=e-lecˈtro-typed= (e᷵-lĕkˈtrō-tīpt), covered with metal. - -=elˈe-gy= (ĕlˈe᷵-jĭ), a mournful or plaintive poem. - -=elˈfin= (ĕlˈfĭn), fairy. - -=elˈi-gi-ble= (ĕlˈĭ-jĭ-b’l), desirable. - -=Elˈi-ot, John= (ĕlˈĭ-ŭt), the apostle to the Indians of North America. - -=elk= (ĕlk), an animal similar to the moose. - -=Elˈlers-lie= (ĕlˈlẽrz-lĭ), a town near Glasgow, Scotland. - -=elm= (ĕlm), a tree generally of large size. - -=elˈo-quence= (ĕlˈō-kwĕns), forceful talk showing strong feeling. - -=e-maˈci-atˌed= (e᷵-māˈshĭ-ātˌĕd), wasted away in flesh. - -=e-manˌci-paˈtion= (e᷵-mănˌsĭ-pāˈshŭn), freedom. - -=emˈbas-sies= (ĕmˈbȧ-sĭz), messages, missions. - -=em-belˈlish= (ĕm-bĕlˈĭsh), beautify. - -=em-blaˈzon-ry= (ĕm-blāˈz’n-rĭ), brilliant decoration, as pictures or -figures on shields, standards. - -=em-bosˈomed= (ĕm-bo͡ozˈŭmd), sheltered. - -=emˈer-ald= (ĕmˈẽr-ăld), a green gem. - -=e-merˈgen-cy= (e᷵-mûrˈjĕn-sĭ), necessity, crisis. - -=Emˈpire State= (ĕmˈpīr), New York. - -=em-ploy-eeˈ= (ĕm-ploi-ēˈ), a clerk or workman in the service of an -employer. - -=emˌu-laˈtion= (ĕmˌu᷵-lāˈshŭn), striving to imitate. - -=en-chantˈed= (ĕn-chȧntˈĕd), bewitched, charmed. - -=en-comˈpass= (en-kŭmˈpȧs), surround. - -=en-counˈtered= (ĕn-kounˈtẽrd), met face to face. - -=en-croachˈing zeal= (ĕn-krōchˈĭng zēl), eagerness which goes beyond -desirable limits. - -=en-cumˈbered= (ĕn-kŭmˈbẽrd), burdened. - -=en-deavˈor= (ĕn-dĕvˈẽr), trial. - -=en-dowˈment= (ĕn-douˈmĕnt), gift. - -=enˈer-get-i-cal-ly= (ĕnˈẽr-jĕt-ĭ-kăl-lĭ), strenuously. - -=en-forˈcing= (ĕn-fōrˈsĭng), putting in force or operation. - -=en-gagˈing= (ĕn-gājˈĭng), pledging, promising. - -=en-genˈdered= (ĕn-jĕnˈdẽrd), caused, bred. - -=en-joinedˈ= (ĕn-joindˈ), commanded, charged. - -=en-meshedˈ= (ĕn-mĕshtˈ), caught or entangled, as in meshes. - -=enˈsign= (ĕnˈsīn), flag. - -=en-suedˈ= (ĕn-sūdˈ), followed as a result. - -=en-tailˈed the ne-cesˈsi-ty= (ĕn-tāldˈ the ne᷵-sĕsˈĭ-tĭ), made it -necessary. - -=enˈter-tained= (ĕnˈtẽr-tānd), held. - -=enˈter-tainˈment= (ĕnˌtẽr-tānˈmĕnt), encounter, diversion. - -=en-treatˈy= (ĕn-trētˈĭ), an earnest request. - -=en-velˈop= (ĕn-vĕlˈŭp), to surround. - -=enˈvoy= (ĕnˈvoi), one sent on a mission, a representative to a foreign -country. - -=epˈau-let= (ĕpˈô-lĕt), a shoulder ornament worn by military and naval -officers and indicating differences of rank. - -=epˈi-cur-ism= (ĕpˈĭ-kūr-ĭz’m; ĕpˈĭ-kūˈrĭz’m), pleasures of the table, -delight in food. - -=epˈi-sodes= (ĕpˈĭ-sōds), experiences, occurrences. - -=epˈi-taph= (ĕpˈĭ-tȧf), an inscription on a tombstone. - -=eˈqual aˈgen-cy= (ēˈkwăl āˈjĕn-sĭ), equal share. - -=eqˈui-ta-ble= (ĕkˈwĭ-tȧ-b’l), just, fair. - -=e-radˈi-catˌed= (e᷵-rădˈĭ-kātˌĕd), destroyed. - -=erˈrant= (ĕrˈănt), wandering. - -=er-ratˈic= (ĕ-rătˈĭk), irregular, queer. - -=erˌu-diˈtion= (ĕrˌo͡o-dĭshˈŭn), learning. - -=Eshˈcol= (ĕshˈkŏl), a valley in Palestine from which the spies, sent out -by Moses, brought back fine grapes. Numbers XIII. - -=es-pousˈal= (ĕs-pouzˈăl), marriage. - -=es-pousedˈ= (ĕs-pouzdˈ), took up the cause of; adopted, made his own. - -=es-sayedˈ= (ĕ-sādˈ), tried. - -=es-tateˈ= (ĕs-tātˈ), possessions. - -=esteemed it not=, cared nothing for it. - -=e-terˈnal= (e᷵-tẽrˈnăl), always existing. - -=eˈther= (ēˈthẽr), sky. - -=e-theˈre-al= (e᷵-thēˈre᷵-ăl), heavenly. - -=e-theˈre-al-ize= (e᷵-thēˈre᷵-ăl-īz), spiritualize. - -=E-vanˈge-line= (e᷵-vănˈje᷵-lēn). - -=e-vincedˈ= (e᷵-vĭnstˈ), showed clearly. - -=evˌo-luˈtion= (ĕvˌō-lūˈshŭn), development. - -=eweˈneck= (ūˈnĕk), an insufficiently arched neck, like that of a sheep. - -=ex-agˈger-at-ˌed ap-pre-ci-aˈtion= (ĕg-zăjˈẽr-āt-ˌed ă-prē-shĭ-āˈshŭn), -enlarged valuation. - -=ex-altˈing= (ĕg-zôltˈĭng), lifting up with joy. - -=ex-asˈper-atˌed= (ĕg-zăsˈpẽr-ātˌĕd), made more grievous, embittered, -made harsher. - -=Ex-calˈi-bur= (ĕks-kălˈĭ-bŭr), the sword of King Arthur. - -=ex-ceedˈ= (ĕk-sēdˈ), to go beyond. - -=ex-cessˈ= (ĕk-sĕsˈ), superabundance. - -=ex-cesˈsive-ly= (ĕk-sĕsˈĭv-lĭ), exceptionally, more than usually. - -=Ex-cheqˈuer= (ĕks-chĕkˈẽr), department of English government for -collection of revenues. - -=ex-culˈpat-ing= (ĕks-kŭlˈpāt-ĭng; ĕksˈkŭlpāt-ĭng), proving to be -guiltless. - -=exˈe-cute= (ĕkˈse᷵-kūt), perform. - -=exˌe-cuˈtion= (ĕkˌse᷵-kūˈshŭn), putting to death. - -=ex-ecˈu-tor= (ĕg-zĕkˈu᷵-tẽr), the person named by another person to -carry out his will after death. - -=ex-emptˈ= (ĕg-zĕmptˈ), exclude. - -=ex-ertˈ= (ĕg-zûrtˈ), put forth, attempt. - -=exˌha-laˈtion= (ĕksˌhȧ-lāˈshŭn), breath. - -=ex-haustˈed= (ĕg-zôstˈĕd), tired out, wearied. - -=ex-hortˈed= (ĕg-zôrtˈĕd), urged. - -=ex-panseˈ= (ĕks-pănsˈ), stretch, extent of space. - -=ex-peˈdi-ent= (ĕks-pēˈdĭ-ĕnt), shift, suitable means to accomplish an -end. - -=exˌpe-diˈtion= (ĕksˌpe᷵-dĭshˈŭn), an important journey for a specific -purpose. - -=ex-pertˈ= (ĕks-pûrtˈ), skillful. - -=exˌpi-aˈtion= (ĕksˌpĭ-āˈshŭn), atonement, reparation. - -=ex-ploitˈ= (ĕks-ploitˈ), deed. - -=ex-posedˈ= (ĕks-pōzdˈ), deprived of shelter. - -=ex-poˈsure= (ĕks-pōˈzhu᷵r), being open to danger. - -=ex-poundˈ= (ĕks-poundˈ), explain. - -=express intention= (ĭn-tĕnˈshŭn), clear determination or one idea. - -=exˈqui-site= (ĕksˈkwĭ-zĭt), rare, perfect. - -=ex-tentˈ= (ĕks-tĕntˈ), space, measure. - -=ex-tenˈu-ate= (ĕks-tĕnˈū-āt), to treat as of small importance. - -=ex-terˈmi-natˌing= (ĕks-tûrˈmĭ-nātˌĭng), destroying utterly, killing all -the members of. - -=ex-tinctˈ= (ĕks-tĭnktˈ), no longer living, inactive. - -=ex-tractˈed= (ĕx-trăkˈtĕd), got. - -=ex-traorˈdi-na-ry= (ĕks-trôrˈdĭ-na᷵-ry), remarkable. - -=ex-travˈa-gance= (ĕks-trăvˈȧ-găns), overdoing, recklessness. - -=ex-tremeˈ= (ĕks-trēmˈ), farthest. - -=ex-tremˈi-ty= (ĕks-trĕmˈĭ-tĭ), greatest need. - -=exˈtri-cate= (ĕksˈtrĭ-kāt), to free. - -=ex-ultˈ= (ĕgz-ŭlt), rejoice exceedingly. - -=fabˈri-cate= (făbˈrĭ-kāt), construct. - -=fa-cilˈi-ty= (fȧ-sĭlˈĭ-tĭ), ease in performance; advantage; aid. - -=facˈtor= (făkˈtẽr), element. - -=facˈul-ties= (făkˈŭl-tĭz), talents, cleverness, means, resources. - -=fagˈot=; fagˈgot (făgˈŭt), bundle of sticks. - -=fain= (fān), eagerly. - -=fain en-treatˈ= (fān ĕn-trētˈ), gladly ask. - -=fair conquest=, what he had won honorably. - -=fair-languaged=, of fine and appropriate speech. - -=faith I owe=, pledge I owe. - -=faithˈless= (fāthˈlĕs), disloyal. - -=Falˈkirk= (fôlˈkûrk). - -=falˈter= (fôlˈtẽr), to hesitate. - -=fanˈcies= (fănˈsĭz), whims. - -=Faneuil= (fănˈĕl) =Hall=, one of the landmarks of colonial Boston. - -=fang= (făng), a long, sharp tooth. - -=Faroe Islands= (fârˈo; fāˈrō), a group of islands in the North Sea -between the Shetlands and Iceland. - -=fasˈci-natˌing crook= (făsˈĭ-nātˌĭng kro͡ok), charming hook, enticing -hook. - -=fast by=, close by. - -=fasten a quarrel=, start a quarrel. - -=fas-tidˈi-ous= (făs-tĭdˈĭ-ŭs), difficult to please. - -=fathˈom= (făthˈŭm), search; a measure of length containing six feet used -chiefly in measuring cables and depth of water. - -=fa-tiguedˈ= (fȧ-tēgdˈ), tired. - -=Feast of the Holy Trinity= (trĭnˈĭ-tĭ), the Sunday next after Pentecost. - -=feat= (fēt), noble deed, exploit. - -=feign= (fān), pretend. - -=fe-licˈi-ty= (fe᷵-lĭsˈĭ-tĭ), bliss, happiness. - -=fell= (fĕl), an elevated wild field, moor, down. - -=feller=, dialect for =fellow= (fĕlˈō), man. - -=felˈlow= (fĕlˈō), companion. - -=felˈlow-ship= (fĕlˈō-shĭp), company. - -=felˈon= (fĕlˈŭn), criminal, a wicked person. - -=ferˈment= (fûrˈmĕnt), tumult, excitement. - -=fe-rocˈi-ty= (fe᷵-rŏsˈĭ-tĭ), cruelty, fury, fierceness. - -=ferˈrule= (fĕrˈo͡ol), ruler. - -=ferˌry-boatˈ= (fĕrˌĭ-bōtˈ), a vessel to carry passengers or freight -across a narrow body of water. - -=fer-tilˈi-ty of ex-peˈdi-ents= (fẽr-tĭlˈĭ-tĭ; ĕks-pēˈdĭ-ĕnts), -quickness of finding a suitable means to accomplish an end. - -=ferˈvor= (fûrˈvẽr), earnestness. - -=fes-toonˈ= (fĕs-to̅o̅nˈ), a wreath; to hang in a curve. - -=feud= (fūd), strife. - -=fever-and-aˈgue= (āˈgū), fever and chills and sweats. - -=fi-delˈi-ty= (fĭ-dĕlˈĭ-tĭ), faith, loyalty. - -=fie= (fī), an exclamation denoting disgust. - -=files= (fīlz), rows. - -=filˈial= (fĭlˈyăl), becoming to a child in relation to his parents. - -=filˈly= (fĭlˈĭ), young horse. - -=filmed eyes= (fĭlmd), half covered eyes. - -=fi-nanˈcial= (fĭ-nănˈshăl), connected with money matters. - -=fi-nesseˈ= (fī-nĕsˈ), cunning. - -=fire= (fīr), courage, enthusiasm. - -=fire-box= (fīr-bŏks), tinder box furnished with flint and steel to -produce a spark. - -=firˈma-ment= (fûrˈmȧ-mĕnt), heavens, sky. - -=fitˈful song= (fĭtˈfo͡ol) irregular song. - -=flail= (flāl), a tool for threshing grain. - -=Flanˈders= (flănˈdẽrz), an ancient country of Europe, now part of -Belgium, Holland, and France. - -=flank= (flănk), the fleshy part of the side of an animal between the -ribs and the hip. - -=flash of flutˈter-ing draˈper-y= (flăsh of flŭtˈẽr-ĭng drāˈpẽr-ĭ), -sight of her dress fluttering or blowing about. - -=flauntˈing= (fläntˈĭng), displaying with pride or in a showy manner. - -=Flemˈish= (flĕmˈĭsh), pertaining to Flanders, one of the provinces of -Belgium. - -=Flimˈen= (flĭmˈ’n). - -=flinched= (flĭncht), withdrew, drew back. - -=flood of golden glory=, a great shining light reaching into every part. - -=Floˈres= (flōˈrĕz). - -=floutˈed= (floutˈĕd), mocked. - -=fluˈen-cy= (flo̅o̅ˈĕn-sĭ), smoothness, readiness of speech. - -=flume= (flo̅o̅m), an inclined channel, usually of wood, for conveying -water from a distance, to be utilized for power. - -=flurˈried= (flŭrˈĭd), excited. - -=flush= (flŭsh), well supplied with money. - -=flush deck=, floor of the boat is even with the sides, no railing. - -=flux and reflux=, flowing in and out. - -=fold= (fōld), offspring. - -=forˈard, forˈward= (fôrˈwẽrd), the fore part of a vessel. - -=forˈay= (fŏrˈȧ), raid. - -=for-bearˈance= (fôr-bârˈăns), the exercise of patience, long-suffering. - -=ford= (fōrd), a stream, a place in a river where it may be passed by -wading. - -=foreˈbent ears= (fōrˈbĕnt ērz), ears turned forward. - -=foreˈcas-tle= (fōrˈkȧs’l; nautical, fōkˈs’l), a short upper deck -forward, raised like a castle. - -=fore-goˈ= (fōr-gōˈ), renounce, give up. - -=foreˌtopˈmast= (fōrˌtŏpˈmȧst), a mast next above the first mast. - -=forˈfeit-ed= (fôrˈfĭt-ĕd), lost by an error or offense. - -=forˈmi-da-ble= (fôrˈmĭ-dȧ-b’l), terrible. - -=for-soothˈ= (fôr-so̅o̅thˈ), certainly. - -=forthˈwith= (fōrthˈwĭthˈ), directly, without delay. - -=forˈti-tude= (fôrˈtĭ-tūd), strength, courage. - -=Fort Larˈa-mie= (lărˈȧ-mĭ), in Wyoming. - -=Fort Mont-gomˈer-y= (mŏnt-gŭmˈẽr-ĭ), an American fort on the Hudson -river, during the Revolutionary War. - -=fosˈter father= (fŏsˈtẽr), a man who has performed the duties of a -parent to the child of another by rearing the child as his own. - -=fouled= (fould), entangled. - -=foun-daˈtion= (foun-dāˈshŭn), basis. - -=founˈder= (founˈdẽr), to become filled with water and sink. - -=fowlˈing-piece= (foulˈĭng-pēs), light gun for shooting birds or small -animals. - -=franˈti-cal-ly= (frănˈtĭ-kăl-ĭ), wildly. - -=fraudˈu-lent= (frôdˈu᷵-lĕnt), dishonest. - -=fraught= (frôt), filled, burdened. - -=freak= (frēk), whim. - -=free of their lives=, willingly ready to give their lives. - -=fre-quentˈed= (fre᷵-kwĕntˈĕd), visited often, resorted to frequently. - -=frigˈate= (frĭgˈāt), a light vessel propelled by sails and by oars. - -=fringed genˈtian= (frĭnjd jĕnˈshăn), a flower. - -=frinˈging= (frĭnˈjĭng), bordering. - -=frisk= (frĭsk), a frolic, gay time, vacation. - -=frolˈic= (frŏlˈĭk), merry. - -=fronˈtier= (frŏnˈtēr), border. - -=fruˈgal= (fro̅o̅ˈgăl), sparing, unwasteful. - -=fruitˈless strugˈgles= (fro̅o̅tˈlĕs strŭgˈ’lz), great effort without -results. - -=fuˈgi-tive= (fūˈjĭ-tĭv), one who flees from pursuit, danger, or service. - -=fuˈgi-tive sovˈer-eign= (fūˈjĭ-tĭv sŏvˈẽr-ĭn), ruler who was in hiding. - -=ful-filˈling your be-hestˈ= (fo͡ol-fĭlˈĭng your be᷵ˈhĕst), carrying out -your order. - -=full noble surgeon= (sûrˈjŭn), a good doctor. - -=fume= (fūm), to fill with vapors or odors, as a room, to perfume as with -incense. - -=funˈnel= (fŭnˈĕl), anything the shape of a hollow cone. - -=furˈbish-ing= (fûrˈbĭsh-ĭng), cleaning, freshening. - -=furˈlong= (fûrˈlŏng), forty rods. - -=fuˈry= (fūˈrĭ), rage, fierceness. - -=fu-tilˈi-ty= (fu᷵-tĭlˈĭ-tĭ), uselessness. - -=fu-tuˈri-ty= (fu᷵-tu᷵ˈrĭ-tĭ), time to come. - -=Gaelˈic= (gālˈĭk), pertaining to the Gaels, or Scotch Highlanders. - -=Gaˈher-is= (gāˈhẽr-ĭs). - -=gainˌsayˈ= (gānˌsāˈ), to speak against, contradict. - -=gait= (gāt), manner of walking, running. - -=galˈlant= (gălˈănt), brave; gay or smart in dress. - -=galˈle-on= (gălˈe᷵-ŭn), a sailing vessel. - -=Gallipoli= (gäl-lēˈpō-lē), a town in European Turkey. - -=game= (gām), animal hunted. - -=gangˈwayˌ= (găngˈwāˌ), the opening through a vessel by which persons -enter or leave it. - -=garb= (gärb), dress. - -=garˈish= (gârˈĭsh), showy, glaring. - -=garˈri-son= (gărˈĭ-s’n), troops on duty in a fort. - -=garˈru-lous= (găro͡o-lŭs), talkative. - -=gashed with numberless ravines= (găsht; rā-vēnzˈ), cut with or by means -of numberless depressions worn out by running water. - -=gaud= (gôd), an ornament. - -=gaudˈy= (gôdˈĭ), showy. - -=gauntˈlet= (gäntˈlĕt), a glove, sometimes made of chain mail and leather. - -=gave audience= (ôˈdĭ-ĕns), received and listened to (as a ruler would -receive a subject). - -=Gaˈwain= (gôˈwa᷵n). - -=ga-zetteˈ= (gȧ-zĕtˈ) a newspaper. - -=gear= (gēr), clothing and ornaments, armor, treasure. - -=geˈni-al= (jēˈnĭ-ăl), kindly. - -=genˈius= (jēnˈyŭs), gifted with unusual power; talent. - -=genˈtry= (jĕnˈtrĭ), people of education and culture. - -=genˈu-ine= (jĕnˈu᷵-ĭn), real, true. - -=Geofˈfrey of Monˈmouth= (jĕfˈrĭ of mŏnˈmŭth). - -=ge-ogˈra-pher= (je᷵-ŏgˈrȧ-fẽr), one versed in geography. - -=geˌo-graphˈi-cal con-sidˌer-aˈtions= (jēˌ-ō-grăfˈĭ-kăl -kŏn-sĭdˌẽr-āˈshŭnz), locations according to geography. - -=gerˈfalˌcon= (jûrˈfôˌk’n), a large falcon of arctic Europe. - -=germ= (jûrm), beginning. - -=gesˈture= (jĕsˈtu᷵r), movement of the hands or body expressive of -feeling. - -=giˌganˈtic= (jīˌgănˈtĭk), immense. - -=Giles de Arˈgen-tine= (jīlz da᷵ ärˈjĕn-tēn). - -=gilˈlies= (gĭlˈlēz), servants. - -=girth= (gûrth), the band which encircles the body of a horse to fasten -anything upon its back. - -=glade= (glād), an open place in a forest. - -=Glasˈgow= (glȧsˈkō; glȧsˈgō), the largest city in Scotland. - -=Glasˈton-bur-y= (glȧsˈtŭn-bẽr-ĭ), a town near Bristol, England. - -=glazˈing= (glāzˈĭng), icy. - -=gleamˈing spray= (glēmˈĭng sprā), shining water. - -=glebe= (glēb), soil. - -=glibˈly= (glĭbˈlĭ), smoothly, easily. - -=gnarled= (närld), knotted. - -=gnome= (nōm), a goblin. - -=goad= (gōd), a pointed rod. - -=gob= (gŏb), lump, mass. - -=gobˈlin= (gŏbˈlĭn), ghost. - -=Goffe, William= (gŏf), 1605-1679. - -=gold-diggings=, mines in California. - -=goldˈen-cui-rassedˈ= (gōlˈd’n-kwe᷵-rȧstˈ), covered with a breastplate of -golden hue. - -=goldˈsmithˌ= (gōldˈsmĭthˌ), an artisan who manufactures vessels or -ornaments of gold. - -=Go-liˈath of Gath= (gō-līˈăth of găth), in biblical history, a giant who -was slain by David. See I Samuel XVII, 32-49. - -=Gon-zaˈlo= (gŏn-zäˈlō). - -=Good Queen Bess=, Queen Elizabeth (1558-1603). - -=Goomˈtee= (gŭmˈtē), a river in India on which Lucknow is situated. - -=goˈpher= (gōˈfẽr), a small burrowing animal about the size of a large -rat. - -=gorge= (gôrj), narrow passage. - -=gorˈgeous= (gôrˈjŭs), showy, fine. - -=gorˈget= (gôrˈjĕt), collar. - -=gorˈy= (gōrˈĭ), bloody. - -=govˈern-ment= (gŭvˈẽrn-mĕnt), the direction of the affairs of state. - -=graˈcious= (grāˈshŭs), pleasing. - -=granˈdeur= (grănˈdu᷵r), majesty, dignity. - -=grave= (grāv), cut. - -=Gravesˈend= (grāvzˈĕnd), a town in England, on the right bank of the -Thames river. - -=gravˈi-ty= (grăvˈĭ-tĭ), seriousness. - -=greenˈing= (grēnˈĭng), growing green. - -=greenˈswardˌ= (grēnˈswôrdˌ), turf green with grass. - -=Grenˌa-dierˈ Guards= (grĕnˌȧ-dērˈ gärdz), a famous English regiment. - -=grievˈance= (grēvˈăns), burden, hardship. - -=grievˈous= (grēvˈŭs), severe. - -=grim= (grĭm), fierce, stern, ferocious. - -=gross= (grōs), heavy, coarse. - -=gro-tesqueˈ= (grō-tĕskˈ), oddly formed. - -=groundˈing his musˈket=, forcing the musket to the ground firmly. - -=grouse= (grous), a bird somewhat similar to a partridge. - -=grubˈbing= (grŭbˈĭng), digging. - -=grumˈbling so-lilˈo-quies= (grŭmˈblĭng sō-lĭlˈō-kwĭz), acts of talking -to one’s self in an ill-natured manner. - -=Guayaquil= (gwīˌä-kēlˈ), a city in Ecuador. - -=Guerˌri-ereˈ= (gĕrˌe᷵-ĕrˈ). - -=guid= (gēd). Scotch for =good=. - -=guinˈea= (gĭnˈĭ), a domestic fowl. - -=Guinˈe-vere= (gwĭnˈe᷵-vẽr). - -=guise= (gīz), manner. - -=gules= (gūlz), red color. - -=Gulf of Bothˈni-a= (bŏthˈnĭ-ȧ), the north part of the Baltic sea, -between Sweden and Finland. - -=gulˈly= (gŭlˈĭ), a channel worn in the earth by water. - -=gulped= (gŭlpt), swallowed eagerly. - -=gunˈwale= (gŭnˈĕl), the upper edge of a vessel’s side. - -=gutˈtur-al= (gŭtˈŭr-ăl) throaty. - -=gyˈrat-ing= (jīˈrāt-ĭng), moving in a circle. - -=gy-raˈtions of the whirl= (jī-rāˈshŭns), the circular movements of the -water. - -=habˈit= (hăbˈĭt), dress, suit of clothes. - -=ha-bitˈu-al-ly= (hȧ-bĭtˈu᷵-ăl-lĭ), regularly, usually. - -=hackˈney-coach= (hăkˈnĭ-kōch), a four-wheeled carriage drawn by two -horses. - -=haft= (hȧft), hilt, handle. - -=hail= (hāl), greeting. - -=Hai-naultˈ= (hā-nōˈ), a province of Belgium. - -=half-felt wish for rest=, slight wish for rest. - -=hamˈpered= (hămˈpẽrd), hindered. - -=hand-gre-nade= (hănd-gre᷵-nādˈ), an explosive to be thrown by hand. - -=handˈi-cap= (hănˈdĭ-kăp), disadvantage. - -=hands= (hănds), every one on the boat. - -=hapˈless= (hăpˈlĕs), unlucky. - -=hapˈpy meˈdi-um=, most useful thing. - -=harˈass= (hărˈăs), trouble; raid. - -=harˈbin-ger= (härˈbĭn-jẽr), a forerunner, usher. - -=harˈdi-er= (härˈdĭ-ẽr), bolder, braver. - -=harˈdi-hood= (härˈdĭ-ho͡od), bravery. - -=harˈmo-nies of law= (härˈmō-nĭz), international law. - -=Ha-rounˈ Al-ra-schidˈ= (hä-ro̅o̅nˈ äl-rȧ-shēdˈ), Aaron the Just, Caliph -of Bagdad (786-809). - -=harˈpies of the shore=, commerce. - -=harˈpy= (härˈpĭ), a monster with a woman’s head and a bird’s wings, -tail, and claws. - -=hatchˈwayˌ= (hăchˈwāˌ), an opening in a deck, from one deck to another. - -=haunch= (hänch), the hip. - -=haunt= (hänt; hônt), recur to the mind frequently; to visit as a ghost; -a place to which one often resorts. - -=Haveˈlock= (Hăvˈlŏk). - -=Haˈver-hill= (hāˈvẽr-ĭl). - -=Havˈi-lah= (hăvˈĭ-lä), in the description of Eden, a land containing -gold, and surrounded by one of the four rivers which go out from Eden. -Genesis II. - -=havˈoc= (hăvˈŏk), wide and general destruction, waste. - -=hazˈard= (hăzˈȧrd), risk, danger, chance. - -=head-winds=, winds blowing straight over the bow of the ship. - -=hearkˈen to a comˌpo-siˈtion= (härk’n, kŏmˌpō-zĭshˈŭn), listen to terms -(for ending the battle). - -=hearth= (härth), that part of a room where the fire is made. - -=heathˈer= (hĕthˈẽr), a low shrub, with minute evergreen leaves and -pinkish flowers. - -=heaved= (hēvd), rose upward and fell again; raised. - -=heaven-born= (hĕv’n-bôrn), name applied to the upper classed by the -people of India. - -=heave to= (hēv to), get to work, turn around. - -=heavˈy-gaitˈed= (hĕvˈĭ-gātˈĕd), heavy walking. - -=Hebˈri-des= (hĕbˈrĭ-dēz), islands off the west coast of Scotland. - -=Hecˈla= (hĕkˈlȧ), a volcano in Iceland. - -=heeled over=, tipped. - -=heighˈhoˌ= (hīˈhōˌ), an exclamation of surprise or joy. - -=height of the ri-dicˈu-lous= (hīt of the rĭ-dĭkˈū-lŭs), extremely -laughable. - -=heir= (âr), one who inherits. - -=heirˈloom= (ârˈlo̅o̅m), any piece of personal property owned by a family -for many generations. - -=held his own=, suffered no losses or disadvantages. - -=helm= (hĕlm), tiller or wheel by which the ship is steered. - -=Hel-segˈgen= (hĕl-sĕgˈ’n). - -=Hel-veˈti-a= (hĕl-vēˈshĭ-ȧ), an ancient and poetic name for Switzerland. - -=herˈald= (hĕrˈăld), one who publishes or announces. - -=herbˈage= (ûrˈba᷵j), green plants or grass. - -=Her-cuˈle-an= (hẽr-kūˈle᷵-ăn), requiring the strength of Hercules, a -mighty hero of Greek mythology. - -=he-redˈi-ta-ry= (he᷵-rĕdˈĭ-tâ-rĭ), ancestral. - -=he-retˈi-cal= (he᷵-rĕtˈĭ-kăl), unbelieving. - -=hereˌun-toˈ ap-pendˈ=, to this attach. - -=herˈmit in the crowd= (hûrˈmĭt), alone even though in a crowd. - -=herˈo-ism= (hĕrˈō-ĭz’m), courage, bravery. - -=herˈon= (hērˈŭn), a bird that wades in water. - -=Hiˌa-waˈtha= (hīˌȧ-wôˈthȧ; hēˌȧ-wôˈthȧ). - -=hiˈber-nates= (hīˈbẽr-nāt), to pass the winter sleeping in close -quarters. - -=hie= (hī), hasten. - -=higˈgle-dy-pigˈgle-dy= (hĭgˈ’l-dĭ-pĭgˈ’l-dĭ), in confusion, topsy-turvy. - -=high time=, about time, the time. - -=hind= (hīnd), farm servant. - -=Hin-do-stanˈ= (hĭn-dō-stänˈ), the Persian name for India. - -=hinˈdrance= (hĭnˈdrăns), something which checks or prevents. - -=hoard= (hōrd), treasure, hidden supply. - -=hobˈbled= (hŏbˈld), fettered, as a horse, by having the legs tied. - -=Hoˈbo-mok= (hōˈbō-mŏk), an Indian guide. - -=Hoˈey-holm= (hōˈā-hōm). - -=hoist the signal=, raise the flag; request it. - -=hold= (hōld), possession, power. - -=hold the middle guard=, keep watch during the middle part of the night. - -=hole up= (hōl), to take to a hole for winter, as a bear. - -=holˈlows= (hŏlˈōz), holes, low places. - -=holsˈters= (hōlˈstẽrz), leather cases for pistols. - -=homˈage= (hŏmˈa᷵j), respect. - -=homeˈly= (hōmˈlĭ), plain. - -=hoodˈwink= (ho͡odˈwĭnk), deceive. - -=ho-riˈzon line= (hō-rīˈzŭn), the line where the earth and sky seem to -meet. - -=hosˈpi-ta-ble= (hŏsˈpĭ-tȧ-b’l), indicating kindness and generosity to -guests and strangers. - -=housˈings= (houzˈĭngz), trappings. - -=hovˈer= (hŭvˈẽr), to hang about. - -=hove up=, brought to a stop. - -=howˈitz-er= (houˈĭt-sẽr), cannon. - -=hrrump= (hrŭmp), a noise. - -=hudˈdled= (hŭdˈ’ld), crowded together for protection. - -=hulk= (hŭlk), the body of an old, wrecked, or dismantled ship. - -=hull= (hŭl), the frame or body of a vessel. - -=hu-maneˈ ofˈfice= (hū-mān ŏfˈĭs), kind service. - -=humˈdrumˌ crone= (hŭmˈdrŭmˌ krōn), dull old fellow. - -=huˈmor= (hūˈmẽr; ūˈmẽr), please, gratify; fancy. - -=huntˈed for the bounˈty= (hŭntˈed for the bounˈtĭ), hunted for the -reward offered by the state or county. - -=husˈband-man= (hŭzˈbănd-măn), a tiller of the soil, farmer. - -=husˈband-ry= (hŭzˈbănd-rĭ), farming. - -=Hyde Park= (hīd), a fashionable park in London. - -=hysted= (hīstˈĕd), dialect for =hoistˈed=. - -=hys-terˈic-al= (hĭs-tĕrˈĭ-kȧl), over-excited. - -=I-beˈri-an= (ī-bēˈrĭ-ăn), Spanish. - -=i-denˈti-cal= (ī-dĕnˈtĭ-kăl), the very same. - -=i-deˈa= (ī-dēˈȧ), image, picture. - -=idˈi-o-cy= (ĭdˈĭ-ŏ-sĭ), condition of being a fool. - -=iˈdle= (īˈd’l), foolish. - -=iˈdle ruˈmor= (īˈd’l ro̅o̅ˈmẽr), groundless tale. - -=Iˈdyl= (īˈdĭl), a poem giving a picture. - -=If-leˈsen= (ēf-lāˈsĕn). - -=ig-noˈble= (ĭg-nōˈb’l), dishonorable, base. - -=igˌno-minˈi-ous= (ĭgˌnō-mĭnˈĭ-ŭs), shameful, dishonorable. - -=I-graineˈ= (e᷵-grānˈ). - -=illegal and void= (ĭl-lēˈgăl), not lawful and hence having no force. - -=illˌstarredˈ= (ĭlˌstärdˈ), unlucky. - -=il-luˌmi-naˈtion= (ĭ-lūˌmĭ-nāˈshŭn), festive lighting up or decorating. - -=il-luˈsion= (ĭl-lūˈzhŭn), appearance which is not real, falsity. - -=il-lusˈtrate= (ĭ-lŭsˈtrāt; ĭlˈŭs-trāt), make clear. - -=il-lusˈtri-ous= (ĭ-lŭsˈtrĭ-ŭs), distinguished, celebrated. - -=im-bibeˈ= (ĭm-bībˈ), take in. - -=im-bueˈ= (ĭm-būˈ), tinge deeply, fill. - -=imˌi-taˈtion= (ĭmˌĭ-tāˈshŭn), that which is made to resemble something. - -=im-measˈur-a-bly= (ĭ-mĕzhˈu᷵r-ȧ-blĭ), cannot be measured. - -=im-meˈdi-ate= (ĭ-mēˈdĭ-a᷵t), not far distant. - -=im-peachedˈ= (ĭm-pēchtˈ), challenged. - -=im-pedˈi-ment= (ĭm-pĕdˈĭ-mĕnt), hindrance. - -=im-pendˈing= (ĭm-pĕndˈĭng), threatening. - -=im-penˈe-tra-ble= (ĭm-pĕnˈe᷵-trȧˈ-b’l), not to be entered. - -=imˌper-cepˈti-ble= (ĭmˌpẽr-sĕpˈtĭ-b’l), not easily seen or noticed. - -=im-perˈfect con-nectˈing links= (ĭm-pûrˈfĕkt kŏ-nĕktˈĭng lĭnks), points -of likeness which are not exact. - -=im-perˈvi-ous= (ĭm-pûrˈvĭ-ŭs), impassable, impenetrable. - -=im-petˌu-osˈi-ty= (ĭm-pĕtˌu᷵-ŏsˈĭ-tĭ), violence. - -=im-petˈu-ous= (ĭm-pĕtˈu᷵-ŭs), furious. - -=imˈpi-ous= (ĭmˈpĭ-ŭs), profane, ungodly. - -=im-plaˈca-ble= (ĭm-plāˈkȧ-b’l), incapable of being pacified; unyielding. - -=imˈple-ment= (ĭmˈple᷵-mĕnt), tool, instrument. - -=im-plyˈ= (ĭm-plīˈ), hint, suggest. - -=im-porˈtu-nate= (ĭm-pôrˈtu᷵-nāt), urgent. - -=im-por-tuneˈ= (ĭm-pōr-tūnˈ), urge, beg. - -=im-pracˈti-ca-ble= (ĭm-prăkˈtĭ-kȧ-b’l), impassable. - -=im-pre-caˈtion= (ĭm-pre᷵-kāˈshŭn), curse. - -=im-pregˈna-ble= (ĭm-prĕgˈnȧ-b’l), able to resist attack. - -=imˈpulse= (ĭmˈpŭls), quick feeling. - -=imˈpulses of his inˌcli-naˈtion= (ĭmˈpŭls-ez of his ĭnˌklĭ-nāˈshŭn), his -own natural desires or wishes, the forces of his nature. - -=im-puˈni-ty= (ĭm-pūˈnĭ-tĭ), without punishment. - -=imˌpu-taˈtion= (ĭmˌpu᷵-tāˈshŭn), insinuation, hinted accusation. - -=in-adˈe-quate= (ĭn-ădˈe᷵-kwāt), insufficient. - -=in-alˈien-a-ble rights= (ĭn-ālˈyĕn-ȧ-b’l), rights that cannot be taken -away. - -=in-apˈpli-ca-ble= (ĭn-ăpˈlĭ-kȧ-b’l), unsuitable. - -=in-auˌgu-raˈtion= (ĭn-ôˌgu᷵-rāˈshŭn), an ushering in, the ceremony of -investing the president with the powers of his office. - -=Inˈca= (ĭnˈkȧ), a South American tribe of Indians, which attained -unusual culture and art. - -=inˌcan-taˈtion so se-reneˈ= (ĭnˌkăn-tāˈshŭn so se᷵-rēnˈ), a charm sung -so clearly and calmly. - -=in-carˈcer-ate= (ĭn-kärˈsẽr-āt), to imprison, to confine. - -=in-cesˈsant= (ĭn-sĕsˈănt), continual. - -=Inch-afˈfray= (ĭnch-ăfˈfrā). - -=inˈci-dent= (ĭnˈsĭ-dĕnt), event. - -=inˌci-vilˈi-ty= (ĭnˌsĭ-vĭlˈĭ-tĭ), impoliteness. - -=in-clemˈen-cy= (ĭn-klĕmˈĕn-sĭ), extreme coldness, storminess. - -=in-clinedˈ= (in-klīndˈ), sloping. - -=in-comˈpa-ra-ble= (ĭn-kŏmˈpȧ-rȧ-b’l), matchless. - -=in-conˌse-quenˈtial= (ĭn-kŏnˌse᷵-kwĕnˈ-shăl), unimportant. - -=inˈcon-sidˌer-a-ble inˈter-val= (ĭnˈkŏn-sĭdˌẽr-ȧ-b’l ĭnˈtẽr-văl), very -small space of time. - -=inˌcon-sidˈer-ate= (ĭnˌkŏn-sĭdˈẽr-a᷵t), not regarding the rights or -feelings of others, thoughtless, heedless. - -=in-conˈstant= (ĭn-kŏnˈstănt), changeable. - -=inˌcon-trolˈla-ble= (ĭnˌkŏn-trōlˈȧ-b’l), not governable. - -=in-corˈpo-rate= (ĭn-kôrˈpō-rāt), to unite, combine into one body. - -=inˈcrease= (ĭnˈkrēs), enlargement, growth. - -=in-cumˈbrance= (ĭn-kŭmˈbrăns), hindrance. - -=in-curredˈ= (ĭn-kûrdˈ), brought upon oneˈs self. - -=in-curˈsion= (ĭn-kûrˈshŭn), a raid. - -=inˌde-cisˈion= (ĭnˌdē-sĭzhˈŭn), want of settled purpose, hesitation. - -=inˈdex= (ĭnˈdĕks), that which points out. - -=Inˈdian file= (ĭnˈdĭ-ăn fīl), single file as the Indians traveled. - -=Indian tiger=, meaning Indian soldiers. - -=in-dicˈa-tive= (ĭn-dĭkˈȧ-tĭv), pointing out. - -=in-difˈfer-ent= (ĭn-dĭfˈẽr-ĕnt), heedless, unconcerned. - -=inˌdig-naˈtion= (ĭnˌdĭg-nāˈshŭn), anger mingled with disgust, rage. - -=inˌdi-vidˈu-al= (ĭnˌdĭ-vĭdˈu᷵-ăl), person, single one; special. - -=in-duˈbi-ta-ble= (ĭn-dūˈbĭ-tȧ-b’l), not doubtful, sure. - -=in-duceˈ= (ĭn-dūsˈ), cause, influence. - -=in-dulgedˈ= (ĭn-dŭljdˈ), gratified, given way to. - -=in-dulˈgence= (ĭn-dŭlˈjĕns), favor granted. - -=in-dulˈgent= (ĭn-dŭlˈjĕnt), kind. - -=in-dusˈtri-al= (ĭn-dŭsˈtrĭ-ăl), relating to industry or labor. - -=inˌef-fecˈtu-al= (ĭnˌĕ-fĕkˈtu᷵-ăl), useless, weak. - -=in-esˈti-ma-ble= (ĭn-ĕsˈtĭ-mȧ-b’l), very valuable, priceless. - -=in-evˈi-ta-ble= (ĭn-ĕvˈĭ-tȧ-b’l), unavoidable. - -=in-exˈo-ra-ble= (ĭn-ĕkˈsō-rȧ-b’l), unyielding. - -=in ex-tremeˈ form= (ĕks-trēmˈ fôrm), in fine physical condition. - -=in-exˈtri-ca-ble= (ĭn-ĕksˈtrĭ-kȧ-b’l), incapable of being disentangled -or untied. - -=in-falˈli-ble= (ĭn-fălˈlĭ-b’l), not capable of erring. - -=inˈfa-mous= (ĭnˈfȧ-mŭs), disgraceful. - -=in-ferˈnal= (ĭn-fûrˈnăl), deadly, tiresome. - -=in-festˈ= (ĭn-fĕstˈ), plagued by many. - -=inˈfi-del= (ĭnˈfĭ-dĕl), unbeliever. - -=inˈfi-nite= (ĭnˈfĭ-nĭt), endless; all embracing. - -=in-firˈmi-ty= (ĭn-fûrˈmĭ-tĭ), weakness. - -=in-flexˈi-ble= (ĭn-flĕkˈsĭ-b’l), firm, unyielding. - -=in-flictˈed= (ĭn-flĭktˈĕd), caused. - -=Inˈgel-ram de Umˈphra-ville= (ĭnˈgĕl-rȧm da᷵ ŭmˈfrȧ-vĭl). - -=in-genˈious-ly= (ĭn-jēnˈyŭs-lĭ), cleverly. - -=inˌge-nuˈi-ty= (ĭnˌje᷵-nūˈĭ-tĭ), cleverness in design. - -=in-genˈu-ous-ly= (ĭn-jĕnˈu᷵-ŭs-lĭ), frankly, sincerely. - -=in-graˈti-atˌing= (ĭn-grāˈshĭ-ātˌĭng), pleasing. - -=in-gratˈi-tude= (ĭn-grătˈĭ-tūd), ungratefulness. - -=in-habˈits in-difˈfer-ent-ly= (ĭn-hăbˈĭts ĭn-dĭfˈẽr-ĕnt-lĭ), dwells in -a manner not interested. - -=in-herˈit-ance= (ĭn-hĕrˈĭ-tăns), a possession which passes by descent, -something inherited. - -=in-imˈi-ta-ble= (ĭn-ĭmˈĭ-tȧ-b’l), not capable of being imitated, -surpassingly excellent. - -=in-iˈtial= (ĭn-ĭshˈȧl), beginning. - -=in league with evil=, in partnership with wickedness. - -=inˌno-vaˈtion= (ĭnˌō-vāˈshŭn), change. - -=inˌnu-enˈdoes= (ĭnˌu᷵-ĕnˈdōz), hints. - -=in-quirˈy= (ĭn-kwīrˈĭ), question. - -=in-scribedˈ= (ĭn-skrībdˈ), written on. - -=in-scruˈta-ble= (ĭn-skro̅o̅ˈtȧ-b’l), not able to be understood. - -=in-senˈsi-ble= (ĭn-sĕnˈsĭ-b’l), without sensation. - -=in-sepˈa-ra-ble= (ĭn-sĕpˈȧ-rȧ-b’l), closely united; not separate. - -=in-sidˈi-ous= (ĭn-sĭdˈĭ-ŭs), deceitful, crafty. - -=in-sigˈni-a= (ĭn-sĭgˈnĭ-ȧ), emblem, distinguishing marks of authority or -honor. - -=in-sinˈu-atˌing= (ĭn-sĭnˈu᷵-ātˌĭng), suggestive, indirect. - -=in-sipˈid= (ĭn-sĭpˈĭd), flat. - -=inˈso-lence= (ĭnˈsō-lĕns), insult. - -=in-specˈtion= (ĭn-spĕkˈshŭn), investigation, act of looking over. - -=inˈstant-ly echˈoed= (ĭnˈstănt-lĭ ĕkˈōd), repeated. - -=inˈsti-gate= (ĭnˈstĭ-gāt), to stir up. - -=inˈstinct= (ĭnˈstĭnkt), natural feeling. - -=in-stincˈtive-ly= (ĭn-stĭnkˈtĭv-lĭ), naturally. - -=inˈsuf-fiˌcient= (ĭnˈsŭ-fĭshˌĕnt), not capable. - -=inˈsu-latˌed= (ĭnˈsu᷵-lātˌĕd), separated. - -=in-surˈgent= (ĭn-sûrˈgĕnt), rebel. - -=in-tactˈ= (ĭn-tăktˈ), untouched, whole. - -=in-tegˈri-ty= (ĭn-tĕgˈrĭ-tĭ), uprightness, honesty. - -=in-telˈli-gence was acting against= (ĭn-tĕlˈĭ-jĕns), understanding was -discouraging them. - -=inˌter-gra-daˈtion= (ĭnˌtẽr-grȧ-dāˈshŭn), changes through a series of -grades, or forms. - -=in-terˈmi-na-ble= (ĭn-tûrˈmĭ-nȧ-b’l), endless. - -=inˌter-poseˈ= (ĭnˌtẽr-pōzˈ), step in. - -=inˌter-po-siˈtion= (ĭnˌtẽr-pō-zĭshˈŭn), intervention. - -=in-terˈpret= (ĭn-tûrˈprĕt), tell the meaning of. - -=in-terˌpre-taˈtion= (ĭn-tûrˌprē-tāˈshŭn), explanation. - -=inˌter-rupˈtion= (ĭnˌtẽ-rŭpˈshŭn), break, stop. - -=inˈter-vals= (ĭnˈtẽr-vălz), brief spaces of time; here and there. - -=in the lines=, in the boundaries or limits of the estate, in the rows. - -=in the teeth of the sleet=, with faces turned in the direction in which -the sleet was falling. - -=inˈti-mate= (ĭnˈtĭ-ma᷵t), close, confidential. - -=in-toxˌi-caˈtion= (ĭn-tŏksˌĭ-kāˈshŭn), delirium, feeling of delight. - -=inˈtri-ca-cies= (ĭnˈtrĭ-kȧ-sĭz), entanglements, complexities. - -=in-trudˈed= (ĭn-tro̅o̅dˈĕd), invaded. - -=in-truˈsive polˈi-cy= (ĭn-tro̅o̅ˈsĭv pŏlˈĭ-sĭ), scheme or method of -entering without right or welcome. - -=in-uredˈ= (ĭn-ūrdˈ), accustomed. - -=in-valˈid= (ĭn-vălˈĭd), illegal. - -=in-vaˈri-a-ble= (ĭn-vāˈrĭ-ȧ-b’l), unchanging, constant. - -=in-venˈtion= (ĭn-vĕnˈshŭn), originality, faculty of inventing. - -=in-vestˈed= (ĭn-vĕstˈĕd), surrounded or hemmed in with troops or ships. - -=in-vesˌti-gaˈtion= (ĭn-vĕsˌtĭ-gāˈshŭn), research, following up. - -=in-vetˈer-ate= (ĭn-vĕtˈẽr-a᷵t), habitual. - -=in-vinˈci-ble= (ĭn-vĭnˈsĭ-b’l), unconquerable. - -=in-viˈo-late= (ĭn-vīˈō-la᷵t), uninjured. - -=in-volˈun-tary= (ĭn-vŏlˈŭn-ta᷵-rĭ), without control of will, unwillingly. - -=in-volvedˈ= (ĭn-vŏlvdˈ), enveloped, entangled. - -=in-volvedˈ in the shalˈlows= (ĭn-vŏlvdˈ in the shălˈōz), mixed up in the -shallow places. - -=i-rasˈci-ble= (ī-răsˈĭ-b’l), easily provoked to anger, fiery, hasty. - -=ire= (īr), anger. - -=irˌre-sistˈible= (ĭrˌe᷵-zĭsˈtĭ-b’l), overpowering. - -=ir-resˌo-luˈtion= (ĭ-rĕzˌō-lūˈshŭn), doubt, uncertainty. - -=ir-revˈer-ent= (ĭ-rĕvˈẽr-ĕnt), disrespectful. - -=ir-revˈo-ca-ble= (ĭ-rĕvˈōkȧ-b’l), unchangeable, past recall. - -=irˌri-ta-ble= (ĭrˌĭ-tȧ-b’l), touchy, fretful. - -=irˌri-taˈtion= (ĭrˌĭ-tāˈshŭn), excitement of impatience, anger; or -passion; annoyance, anger. - -=ir-rupˈtion= (ĭ-rŭpˈshŭn), a sudden and violent inroad or invasion. - -=iˌso-laˈtion= (īˌsō-lāˈshŭn), being alone, separate from others. - -=isˈsue= (ĭshˈū), outcome, result. - -=issˈued on the praiˈrie= (ĭshˈūd on the prāˈrĭ), came forth on the -prairie. - -=i-tinˈer-ant= (ī-tĭnˈẽr-ănt), wandering. - -=jagˈger-y= (jăgˈẽr-ĭ), a coarse brown sugar. - -=Ja-iˈrus= (ja᷵-īˈrŭs), Luke VIII, 49-56. - -=jasˈmine= (jăsˈmĭn), a shrub bearing flowers of a peculiarly fragrant -odor. - -=jasˈper= (jăsˈpẽr), a kind of quartz. - -=jaunt= (jänt; jônt), a short excursion for pleasure. - -=jealˈous rage= (jĕlˈŭs), selfish anger. - -=jeopˈard-y= (jĕpˈȧr-dĭ), risk. - -=Je-ruˈsa-lem= (je᷵-ro̅o̅ˈsȧ-lĕm), the chief city of Palestine, closely -associated with the life and death of Jesus Christ. - -=jesˈsa-mine= (jĕsˈȧ-mĭn), same as jasmine. - -=Joan= (jōn), short for Joanna. - -=jockˈey= (jŏkˈĭ), a professional rider of horses in races. - -=jocˈund= (jŏkˈŭnd), merry. - -=jogˈging= (jŏgˈĭng), moving slowly. - -=john’s-wort=, St. John’s-wort, a small plant having yellow flowers. - -=joinˈer= (joinˈẽr), one who repairs furniture. - -=jourˈnal-ist= (jûrˈnăl-ĭst), one who writes for a public journal. - -=jousts= (jŭsts; jo̅o̅sts), combats on horseback between two knights with -lances. - -=ju-diˈcious-ly= (jo̅o̅-dĭshˈŭs-lĭ), wisely. - -=junˈgle= (jŭnˈg’l), land overgrown with brushwood. - -=jungle-serpent=, meaning Indian soldiers. - -=juˈror= (jo̅o̅ˈrẽr), member of a jury, one of a number of men sworn to -deliver a verdict as a body. - -=juˈry-mast= (jo̅o̅ˈrĭ mȧst), temporary mast. - -=jusˌti-fi-caˈtion= (jŭsˌtĭ-fĭ-kāˈshŭn), defense, support. - -=Kaˈla Nag= (käˈlȧ näg). - -=keel= (kēl), the timber or combination of timbers supporting a vessel’s -framework. - -=keel the pot=, to skim or stir, as to prevent boiling over. - -=Khe-diveˈ= (kĕ-dēvˈ), the governor of Egypt. - -=Kieldˈholm= (kēldˈhōm). - -=Kil-drumˈmie= (kĭl-drŭmˈmĭ). - -=Kil-menˈy= (kĭl-mĕnˈĭ). - -=kinˈdred= (kĭnˈdrĕd), family. - -=King Log=, a character in one of Aesopˈs fables. - -=King Solomon=, a Biblical king of great magnificence. I Kings I, 32-40. - -=kinˌni-kin-nicˈ= (kĭnˌĭ-kĭ-nĭkˈ), the red bearberry. - -=kinsˈman= (kĭnzˈmăn), a relative. - -=Kirchˈer= (kĭrkˈẽr), a Jesuit scientist. - -=knave= (nāv), rascal. - -=knee-hal-tered= (nȧ-hălˈtẽrd), haltered or tied at the knees. - -=knell= (nĕl), stroke or sound of a bell. - -=Knickˈer-bockˈer, Dieˈdrick= (dēˈdrĭk nĭkˈẽr-bŏkˈẽr). - -=knightly exercises=, practice for knighthood. - -=knocked down=, sold at auction. - -=knolled= (nōld), summoned by a bell. - -=la-boˈri-ous= (lȧ-bōˈrĭ-ŭs), toilsome. - -=labˈy-rinth= (lăbˈĭ-rĭnth), a place full of passageways which make it -difficult to find the way out; confusion. - -=labˈy-rinth of whims= (lăbˈĭ-rĭnth), a confusion of notions hard to -understand. - -=lackˈing= (lăkˈĭng), not there. - -=ladˈing= (lādˈĭng), load, cargo. - -=lair= (lâr), bed. - -=Lanˈca-shire= (lănˈkȧ-shẽr), a northwestern county of England. - -=landˈmarkˌ= (lăndˈmärkˌ), any object that marks a locality or serves as -a guide. - -=Land Office=, a government office in which the sales of public land are -registered. - -=landˈscape= (lăndˈskāp), a portion of land which the eye can see in a -single glance. - -=lanˈguor= (lănˈgẽr), dullness, lack of life. - -=lappˈped in quiet= (lăpt), wrapped in quiet, or stillness. - -=lapse= (lăps), a slip, a passing. - -=larˈboard= (lärˈbōrd; bẽrd), the left-hand side of a ship to one on -board facing toward the bow, port. - -=larˈgess= (lärˈjĕs), gift. - -=larˈi-at= (lărˈĭ-ăt), long, small rope of hemp or hide with a running -noose, used for catching cattle or horses. - -=lashˈing= (lăshˈĭng), striking. - -=lashˈings= (lăshˈĭngz), cords, ropes. - -=latˈer-al= (lătˈẽr-ăl), sidewise. - -=latˈi-tude= (lătˈĭ-tūd), distance north or south of the equator. - -=latˈtice= (lătˈĭs), a kind of framework, made by crossing thin strips so -as to form a network. - -=laudˈa-ble= (lôdˈȧ-b’l), praiseworthy. - -=laudˈing= (lôdˈing), praising. - -=launch= (länch; lônch), fling out; set afloat. - -=lauˈrel= (lôˈrĕl), a shrub or tree, with fragrant leaves. - -=La-vaineˈ= (lä-vānˈ). - -=lavˈish= (lăvˈĭsh), generous. - -=lay= (lā), not of the clergy. - -=lay-to=, to lie head to windward without moving, except for drift. - -=lazˌa-reetˈ=, for =lazˌa-retˈto=, in sailor’s language, a place near the -stern of some merchant vessels, used as a storehouse. - -=league= (lēg), a measure of distance varying for different times and -countries from about 2.4 to 4.6 miles; combination for mutual support. - -=leagued= (lēgd), united. - -=leave= (lēv), permission. - -=led horse= (lĕd), an extra horse. - -=lee of a boulˈder= (bōlˈdẽr), sheltered side of a boulder or rock. - -=leek= (lēk), a plant resembling the onion. - -=leeˈward= (lēˈwẽrd; lēˈẽrd), the part or side of the ship opposite to -the direction from which the wind blows; sheltered. - -=legˈa-cy= (lĕgˈȧ-sĭ), a gift, something coming from an ancestor or -predecessor. - -=legˈend= (lĕjˈĕnd; lēˈjĕnd), a story that has been handed down. - -=legˈend-a-ry= (lĕjˈĕn-da᷵-rĭ), fabulous, traditional. - -=le-gitˈi-mate= (le᷵-jĭtˈĭ-māt), lawful. - -=leiˈsure= (lēˈzhu᷵r), time free from work. - -=Le Morte D’Arthur= (lĕ môrt därˈthẽr), French for =the death of Arthur=. - -=Le-odˈo-gran= (lā-ŏdˈō-grăn). - -=lepˈro-sy= (lĕpˈrō-sĭ), an incurable disease. - -=le-tharˈgic= (le᷵-thärˈjĭk), heavy with sleep. - -=lethˈar-gy= (lĕthˈȧr-jĭ), continued or profound sleep; state of inaction. - -=likeˈli-est= (līkˈlĭ-ĕst), fittest. - -=Liˈma Town= (lēˈmä), in Peru. - -=limˌi-taˈtion= (lĭmˌĭ-tāˈshŭn), that which confines within limits. - -=Linˈcoln-shire= (lĭnˈkŭn-shẽr), a county in England. - -=linˈe-age= (lĭnˈe᷵-a᷵j), descent, family. - -=linˈe-al= (lĭnˈe᷵-ăl), descending in a direct line. - -=linˈnet= (lĭnˈĕt), a common small finch. - -=Liˈon-el= (līˈŭn-ĕl). - -=Liˈo-nesˌ= (lēˈō-nĕsˌ). - -=linˈsey-woolˈsey= (lĭnˈzĭ-wo͡olˈzĭ), coarse cloth made of linen and wool. - -=lists= (lĭsts), chooses, likes; the field of knightly combat. - -=literal and metaphorical= (lĭtˈẽr-ăl, mĕtˈȧ-fôrˈĭ-kăl), speaking -according to both fact and figure. - -=litˈer-al-ly= (lĭtˈẽr-ăl-lĭ), word by word. - -=litˈer-a-ture= (lĭtˈẽr-ȧ-tu᷵r), the class of writings of a given -country, or period, or people, which is notable for form or expression. - -=Lithˈgow= (lĭthˈgō), a town near Edinburgh. - -=litˈter= (lĭtˈẽr), a stretcher so arranged with poles at the sides that -a sick or wounded person may easily be carried on it. - -=liveˈlongˌ= (lĭvˈlŏngˌ), whole. - -=livˈer of his soul=, most loved possession. - -=loadˈstoneˌ= (lōdˈstōnˌ), magnet. - -=loath= (lōth), unwilling. - -=loch= (lŏk), a lake. - -=Loch-gyleˈ= (lŏk-gīlˈ). - -=Loch-ielˈ= (lŏk-ēlˈ). - -=Locke, John=, English philosopher (1632-1704). - -=lockˈer= (lŏkˈẽr), a chest or compartment for stowing anything snugly. - -=lodge-pole= (lŏj-pōl), a long, slender pole used in setting up a tent. - -=Lo-foˈden= (lō-fōˈdĕn), a group of islands off the coast of northern -Norway. - -=loftˈi-est= (lŏftˈĭ-ĕst), highest. - -=Log= (lŏg), the full nautical record of a ship’s voyage. - -=logˈic= (lŏjˈĭk), reason. - -=lolled= (lŏld), hung. - -=lonˌgi-tuˈdi-nal= (lŏnˌjĭ-tūˈdĭ-năl), running lengthwise. - -=’longˈshore lub-bers= (lŏngˈshōr lŭbˈbẽrz), people used to staying on -shore. - -=long-vanˈished=, long disappeared. - -=loom= (lo̅o̅m), appearance of exaggerated size. - -=loomˈing= (lo̅o̅mˈĭng), appearing. - -=loosed= (lo̅o̅st) =storm breaks furiously=, the storm that has been -released, breaks angrily. - -=Lord Naˈpi-er= (nāˈpĭ-ẽr). - -=lore= (lōr), wisdom, knowledge. - -=loˈsel= (lōˈzĕl), a worthless person. - -=Los Muerˈtos= (lōs mĕrˈtōs). - -=lot is cast with men=, your life must be led among men. - -=louˈis d’or= (lo̅o̅ˈē dōr), a former gold coin of France. - -=loungˈing= (lounjˈĭng), idling, reclining. - -=lour=, frown, to look threatening. - -=loyˈal-ty= (loiˈăl-tĭ), faithfulness. - -=lubˈber-ly= (lŭbˈẽr-lĭ), like a clumsy fellow, ignorant of seamanship. - -=Luˈcan= (lūˈkăn). - -=luckless starrˈd=, born under an unlucky star; unfortunate. - -=Luckˈnowˌ= (lŭkˈnouˌ), a city in India. - -=luˈcra-tive= (lūˈkrȧ-tĭv), making money, profitable. - -=luˈdi-crous= (lūˈdĭ-krŭs), ridiculous, comical. - -=lugˈsailˌ= (lŭgˈsālˌ), a four-sided sail without a boom. - -=lu-guˈbri-ous= (lu᷵-gūˈbrĭ-ŭs), mournful. - -=lulled= (lŭld), quieted. - -=lumˈber-ing= (lŭmˈbẽr-ĭng), bulky, rumbling. - -=luˈmi-nous= (lūˈmĭ-nŭs), shining; full of light. - -=lurch= (lûrch), a sudden roll to one side. - -=luˈrid= (lūˈrĭd), like glowing fire seen through cloud or smoke; -terrible, blazing. - -=lurkˈing= (lûrkˈĭng), hidden, sneaking. - -=lusˈter= (lŭsˈtẽr), brightness, glitter. - -=Luˈther, Martin= (lo̅o̅ˈthẽr), a German reformer, translator of the -Bible and writer of many hymns. - -=lux-uˈri-ous= (lŭks-ūˈrĭ-ŭs), extravagant; with unrestrained delight. - -=madˈdened= (mădˈ’nd), enraged. - -=made shift=, managed, contrived. - -=Maelˈstrom= (mālˈstrŏm), a whirlpool on the coast of Norway. - -=magˌa-zineˈ= (măgˌȧ-zēnˈ), the place where the cartridges are put in a -gun; a storehouse, granary. - -=Magˈda-la= (măgˈdȧ-lȧ). - -=Maˈgi= (māˈjī), the three wise men who brought gifts to the Christ -child. Matt. II. - -=magˈic= (măjˈĭk), sorcery, witchery, charm. - -=ma-giˈcian= (mȧ-jĭshˈăn), one skilled in magic. - -=magˈis-tra-cy= (măjˈĭs-trȧ-sĭ), office of a magistrate or public officer. - -=magˌna-nimˈi-ty= (măgˌnȧ-nĭmˈĭ-tĭ), great minded, raised above what is -ungenerous. - -=mag-nanˈi-mous= (măg-nănˈĭ-mŭs), unselfish. - -=magˈni-tude= (măgˈnĭ-tūd), greatness, size. - -=mag-noˈli-a= (măg-nōˈlĭ-ȧ), a genus of trees having aromatic bark and -large fragrant white, pink, or purple blossoms. - -=ma-houtˈ= (mȧ-houtˈ), the keeper and driver of an elephant. - -=main= (mān), the great sea. - -=main-tainedˈ= (mān-tāndˈ), kept, held. - -=mainˈte-nance= (mānˈte᷵-năns), support. - -=Ma-layˈ= (mȧ-lā; māˈlā), a native of the Malayan peninsula, the extreme -south end of the mainland of Asia, or of the neighboring islands. - -=ma-levˈo-lent= (mȧ-lĕvˈō-lĕnt), wishing evil. - -=malˈice= (mălˈĭs), ill will. - -=malˈlet= (mălˈlĕt), a wooden hammer. - -=Malˈor-y, Sir Thomas= (mălˈō-rĭ). - -=Mal-teseˈ= (môl-tēzˈ), a native of Malta, an island in the Mediterranean -sea, south of Sicily. - -=manˈage-a-ble= (mănˈa᷵j-ȧ-b’l), governable. - -=manˈdate= (mănˈda᷵t), command, order. - -=manˈgle= (mănˈg’l), spoil, injure, mutilate. - -=maˈni-a= (māˈnĭ-ȧ), madness, violent desire, craze. - -=maˈni-ac= (māˈnĭ-ăk), a madman. - -=manˌi-fes-taˈtion= (mănˌĭ-fĕs-tāˈshŭn), revelation, disclosure. - -=manˈi-fest-ly= (mănˈĭ-fĕst-lĭ), clearly, plainly. - -=manˈi-fold= (mănˈĭ-fōld), numerous. - -=manly motive and sustainment= (mōˈtĭv, sŭs-tānˈmĕnt), strength to face a -situation bravely. - -=manned= (mănd), supplied with men for a crew. - -=manˈor= (mănˈẽr), house or hall of an estate. - -=ma-raudˈer= (mȧ-rôdˈẽr), plunderer. - -=Mareˈschal= (märˈshăl), general, commander-in-chief. - -=Mare Tenˈe-braˈrum= (mäˈrĕ tĕnˈe᷵-bräˈrŭm), Latin words meaning sea of -darkness. - -=markˈing time= (märkˈĭng), moving of the feet alternately. - -=mart= (märt), contraction of market. - -=marˈtial= (märˈshăl), warlike. - -=marˈtin= (märˈtĭn), kind of bird. - -=Martˈling, Dofˈfue= (märtˈlĭng, dŏfˈfū). - -=marˈvel= (märˈvĕl), wonder. - -=Maseˈfield, John= (māsˈfēld). - -=mask= (măsk), hide. - -=maˈson-ry= (māˈs’n-rĭ), work of a mason. - -=massˈa-cre= (mȧsˈă-kẽr), the murder of human beings in numbers. - -=Masˈsa-soit= (măsˈȧ-soit), father of King Philip, a Wampanoag sachem. - -=masˈsive= (mȧsˈĭv), heavy, weighty, bulky. - -=matchˈlock= (măchˈlŏk), an old style gun. - -=maˌteˈri-al enˈer-gy= (mȧˌtēˈrĭ-ăl ĕnˈĕr-jĭ), physical power. - -=ma-terˈnal= (mȧ-tûrˈnăl), motherly, relating to a mother. - -=mathˌe-ma-tiˈcian= (măthˌe᷵-mȧ-tĭshˈăn), one versed in the science of -mathematics. - -=Mathˈer, Cotton= (măthˈẽr), an American clergyman and author of a -church history of America. He took an active part in the persecutions for -witchcraft, carried on in New England. - -=matˈtock= (mătˈŭk), an implement for digging and grubbing. - -=ma-tureˈly= (mȧ-tūr-lĭ), completely. - -=mauˈger= (môˈgẽr), in spite of. - -=maulˈing= (môlˈĭng), beating. - -=maunˈder= (mônˈdẽr; mänˈdẽr), mumble, mutter. - -=maxˈim= (măkˈsĭm), proverb. - -=May bedecks the naked trees=, May causes the flowers and leaves to come -forth on the bare trees. - -=mayˈflowˌer=, the trailing arbutus. - -=McCraeˈ, John D.= (krā). - -=mead= (mēd), meadow. - -=me-anˈder= (me᷵-ănˈdẽr), to wind. - -=measˈured in cups of ale= (mĕzhˈu᷵rd), counted the length (of the story) -by the number of cups drunk. - -=meat= (mēt), a meal. - -=me-chanˈi-cal-ly= (me᷵-kănˈĭ-kăl-ĭ), like a machine. - -=me-chanˈics= (me᷵-kănˈĭks), those who work with machinery or in the -making of machinery. - -=medˈdling= (mĕdˈ’lĭng), busying oneself, interfering with. - -=mevdi-ocˈri-ty= (mēˌdĭ-ŏkˈrĭ-tĭ), common quality, average. - -=medˈi-tate= (mĕdˈĭ-tāt), muse or ponder, think over again and again. - -=medˈley= (mĕdˈlĭ), mixture. - -=Me-doˈra= (mē-dōˈră). - -=meetˈly= (mētˈlĭ), fitly. - -=melˈan-cho-ly= (mĕlˈăn-kŏl-ĭ), mournful, sad, depressed; sadness. - -=memˈoir= (mĕmˈwŏr; wär), an account of events as remembered or gathered -from certain sources by the writer. - -=memˈor-a-ble= (mĕmˈōr-ȧ-b’l), remarkable, notable, worthy of remembrance. - -=menˈace= (mĕnˈa᷵s), threaten. - -=menˈdi-can-cy= (mĕnˈdĭ-kăn-sĭ), state of being a beggar. - -=men of my blood=, fellow Englishmen. - -=men of worˈship=, men to be respected. - -=men-talˈi-ty= (mĕn-tălˈĭ-tĭ), state of mind. - -=merˈce-na-ry= (mûrˈse᷵-na᷵-rĭ), hired soldiers in the service of a -country other than their own. - -=merˈcu-ry= (mûrˈku᷵-rĭ), quicksilver, a heavy metal, liquid at all -ordinary temperatures, used in barometers. - -=Merˈcu-ry= (mûrˈku᷵-rĭ), in Roman mythology the messenger of Jupiter. - -=mere= (mēr), lake. - -=mereˈstead= (mērˈstĕd), farm. - -=merˌe-triˈcious= (mĕrˌe᷵-trĭshˈŭs), tawdry, gaudy. - -=Merˈsey= (mẽrˈzĭ), a river in England. - -=me-seemˈeth= (me᷵-sēmˈĕth), it seems to me. - -=meshes of steel=, the steel nets used to entangle the submarines. - -=messˌmate= (mĕsˌmātˈ), table companion. - -=Me-ta-comˈet= (mā-tȧ-kŏmˈĕt). - -=met-alˈlic= (me᷵t-tălˈĭk), resembling metal. - -=metˈa-phor= (mĕtˈȧ-fẽr), a figure of speech in which the -characteristics of one thing are carried over to another. - -=meˈte-or flag=, flag raised high in the air. - -=meteor of the ocean air=, the flag. - -=Methˈven= (mĕthˈvĕn), a village near Perth. - -=metˈtle= (mĕtˈ’l), spirit. - -=Mi-anˌto-niˈmo= (mĭ-ănˌtō-nīˈmō), Sachem of the Narragansetts. - -=Miˈdas= (mīˈdȧs), a king, in fable, whose touch turned everything to -gold. - -=Midˈi-an-ites= (mĭdˈĭ-ăn-īts), an Arabian tribe that made war upon the -Israelites. - -=mien= (mēn), manner, air. - -=might not serve him hitherto=, up to that time might not allow him to. - -=mighˈty tuskˈer= (mĭtˈĭ tŭsˈkẽr), elephant having large tusks. - -=miˈgrate= (mīˈgrāt), to go from one place to another, to move. - -=Milˈan= (mīˈlăn; mīˌlanˈ), a city, also a province, of Lombardy, Italy. - -=milˈlet= (mĭlˈlĕt), any one of several grasses bearing small, roundish -grains. - -=mimˈic= (mĭmˈĭk), imitate. - -=minˈgled= (mĭnˈg’ld), mixed, blended. - -=minˈis-ter= (mĭnˈĭs-tẽr), supply. - -=Miˈnor-ites= (mīˈnŏr-ītz), a Franciscan order. - -=minˈstrel= (mĭnˈstrĕl), one who sang verses to the accompaniment of a -harp; a poet. - -=mi-nuteˈ= (mĭ-nūtˈ), very small. - -=mi-racˈu-lous= (mĭ-răkˈu᷵-lŭs), wonderful. - -=Mi-ranˈda= (mĭ-rănˈdä). - -=mirˈy= (mīrˈĭ), covered with mud. - -=misvan-thropˈic= (mĭsˌăn-thrŏpˈĭk), avoiding one’s kind; not liking -mankind. - -=mis-calˌcu-laˈtion= (mĭs-kălˌku᷵-lāˈshŭn), a wrong judgment. - -=misˈchie-vous= (mĭsˈchĭ-vŭs), full of mischief. - -=mis-givˈing= (mĭs-gĭvˈĭng), fear, distrust. - -=mis-ruleˈ= (mĭs-ro̅o̅lˈ), disorder, bad government. - -=mis-shapˈen= (mĭs-shāp’n), deformed, having a bad or ugly shape or form. - -=misˈsile= (mĭsˈĭl), a weapon or object thrown. - -=mocˈca-sin= (mŏkˈȧ-sĭn), a shoe of deer-skin, with the sole and upper -cut in one piece. - -=mockˈer-y= (mŏkˈẽr-ĭ), ridicule, insult; imitation. - -=mode= (mōd), manner. - -=modˈer-ate= (mŏdˈẽr-a᷵t), reasonable; calm. - -=modˈi-cum= (mŏdˈĭ-kŭm), a little, a small quantity. - -=Moˈdred= (mōˈdrĕd). - -=Moˈhawks= (mōˈhôks), Indians of the principal tribe of the Iroquois -Confederacy, formerly occupying the Mohawk Valley, New York. - -=moˌles-taˈtion= (mōˌlĕs-tāˈshŭn), disturbance, annoyance. - -=molt= (mōlt), shed, cast off. - -=moˈment= (mōˈmĕnt), importance. - -=moˈmen-ta-ry= (mōˈmĕn-tȧ-rĭ), short-lived. - -=mo-menˈtum= (mō-mĕnˈtŭm), the force of motion in a moving body. - -=monˈgrel= (mŭnˈgrĕl), of mixed origin. - -=mo-notˈo-ny= (mō-nŏtˈō-nĭ), sameness, want of variety. - -=monˈstrous= (mŏnˈstrŭs), marvelous, enormous. - -=Mon-teithˈ= (mŏn-tēthˈ). - -=mon-teˈro= (mŏn-tāˈrō), a hunting cap with flaps. - -=Monˌte-zuˈma= (mŏnˌte᷵-zo̅o̅ˈmȧ), a war chief or emperor of the Aztecs -in ancient Mexico. - -=moodˈy= (mo̅o̅dˈĭ), gloomy, sullen. - -=moor= (mo̅o̅r), sandy ground more or less marshy. - -=moored= (mo̅o̅rd), tied, fastened. - -=moose= (mo̅o̅s), a large animal of the deer family. - -=morˈal-izving= (mŏrˈăl-īzˌĭng), thinking about the meaning of life, -drawing morals. - -=mo-rassˈ= (mō-răsˈ), swamp. - -=morˈsel= (môrˈsĕl), a little piece. - -=morˈtal= (môrˈtăl), subject to death; causing death. - -=mortal means=, human ways. - -=morˌti-fi-caˈtion= (môrˌtĭ-fĭ-kāˈshŭn), shame, humiliation. - -=Moˈses= (mōˈzĕz), the character in the Bible who led the Children of -Israel through the Wilderness to the Promised Land. Exodus I. - -=Mosˈkoe-strom= (mŏsˈkō-strŏm). - -=Mosˈlem mosque= (mŏzˈlĕm mŏsk), a Mohammedan place of worship. - -=Moˈti Guj= (mōˈtĭ go̅o̅j). - -=moˈtive= (mōˈtĭv), cause, reason, object. - -=motˈtled= (mŏtˈl’d), spotted. - -=mounˈtain-men= (mounˈtĭn), men who live in mountainous regions. - -=Mount Helˈi-con= (mount hĕlˈĭ-kŏn). - -=Mount Par-nasˈsus= (mount pär-năsˈŭs), a mountain in Greece, sacred to -Apollo and the Muses. - -=mouthˈings= (mouthˈĭngz), excited talking, ravings. - -=moy dore, moiˈdore= (moiˈdōr), a gold coin of Portugal. - -=mufˈfled= (mŭfˈl’d), wrapped up closely. - -=Mulatas Cays= (mo̅o̅-läˈtȧs kās). - -=mule deer= (mūl dēr), a long-eared deer of western North America. - -=mu-seˈum= (mu᷵-zēˈŭm), a collection of natural, scientific, or literary -curiosities, or of works of art. - -=musˈing= (mūzˈĭng), thinking, mediating. - -=musˈket-eersˈ= (mŭsˈkĕt-ērz), soldiers armed with muskets. - -=Musˈsul-mans= (mŭsˈŭl-mănz), Mohammedans. - -=musˈter= (mŭsˈtẽr), the sum total of a body or ship’s company; assembly -for parade; show, display; to collect. - -=muˈta-ble= (mūˈtȧ-b’l), changeable. - -=muˌti-neerˈ= (mūˌtĭ-nērˈ), one who refuses to obey lawful authority. - -=muˈti-ny= (mūˈtĭ-nĭ), insurrection against, or refusal to obey authority. - -=muˈtu-al= (mūˈtu᷵-ăl), common. - -=muzˈzle= (mŭzˈ’l), mouth. - -=my heart giveth unto you=, my liking for you tells me. - -=myn-heerˈ= (mīn-hār; mĭn-hērˈ), the Dutch term for =mister=. - -=myrˈi-ad-handˈed= (mĭrˈĭ-ăd-hăndˈĕd), thousand-handed. - -=mysˈter-y= (mĭsˈtẽr-ĭ), profound secret. - -=myth= (mĭth), imaginary person. - -=Narˌra-ganˈsets= (nărˌȧ-gănˈsĕts), a tribe of Algonquian Indians -formerly dwelling about Narragansett Bay in Rhode Island. - -=nar-rateˈ= (nă-rātˈ), relate, tell. - -=narˈra-tive= (nărˈȧ-tĭv), story, account. - -=natˈu-ral hisˈto-ry= (nătˈu᷵-răl hĭsˈtō-rĭ), the study of animals and -their habits. - -=natˈu-ral-ist= (nătˈū-răl-ĭst), a student of natural history, especially -of the natural history of animals. - -=natˌu-ral provˈen-der= (nătˌu᷵-răl prŏvˈĕn-dẽr), usual food. - -=navˈi-gate= (năvˈĭ-gāt), to journey on, to travel by water. - -=Naˈzim= (näˈzĭm). - -=ne-cesˈsi-tate= (ne᷵-sĕsˈĭ-tāt), make necessary. - -=ne-cesˈsi-ty= (ne᷵-sĕsˈĭ-tĭ), need. - -=necessity was upon them=, they needed, were obliged to. - -=necˈro-manˌcy= (nĕkˈrō-mănˌsĭ), the art of revealing the future by -communication with the spirits of the dead. - -=Nelˈson, Ho-raˈtio= (1758-1805), a great English admiral. - -=nestˈling= (nĕstˈlĭng), young bird. - -=never a prophet so crazy=, never a foreteller of events so excited, or -distracted with eager desire. - -=Newˈcasˌtle= (nūˈkȧsˌ’l), a manufacturing city in the north of England. - -=New-eˈra Elˈli-a= (nū-ēˈrȧ ĕlˈlĭ-ȧ). - -=New South Shetland= (shĕtˈlănd), archipelago, in the Antarctic Ocean, -near Cape Horn. - -=Newˈton, Sir Isaac=, an English philosopher and mathematician -(1642-1727). - -=nice= (nīs), discriminating, exacting. - -=niche= (nĭch), a hollow or recess, generally within the thickness of a -wall, for a statue or bust. - -=Nicholas Nickleby= (nĭkˈō-lȧs nĭk’l-bĭ). - -=Nieuw-Nederlandts=, Dutch for New Netherlands. - -=Niˈgel= (nīˈgĕl). - -=nigˈgard-ly= (nīgˈȧrd-lĭ), stingy. - -=nightˈrack=, night wreckage. - -=nine at night=, nine o’clock. - -=Nipˈmuck= (nĭpˈmŭk). - -=nobly proportioned=, of great build. - -=noised abroad=, told abroad. - -=nomˈi-nal= (nŏmˈĭ-năl), not real or actual. - -=noonˈing= (no̅o̅nˈĭng), noontime. - -=northˈer= (nôrˈthĕr), a wind from the north. - -=North-gaˈlis= (nôrth-gāˈlĭs). - -=North-umˈber-land= (nôr-thŭmˈbẽr-lănd). - -=Nor-weˈgian= (nŏr-wēˈjăn), pertaining to Norway, a country of northern -Europe. - -=noˈtion= (nōˈshŭn), fancy, imagination. - -=notˌwith-standˈing= (nŏtˌwĭth-stănˈdĭng), although. - -=novˈel= (nŏvˈĕl), new, unusual. - -=Nuˈbi-an ge-ogˈra-pher= (nūˈbĭ-ȧn je᷵-ogˈ-rȧ-fẽr). Poe in all -probability refers to the African geographer, Ptolemy. - -=nugˈget= (nŭgˈĕt), a native lump of precious metal. - -=nupˈtials= (nŭpˈshălz), marriage. - -=obˈe-lisk= (ŏbˈe᷵-lĭsk), an upright, pointed, four-sided pillar. - -=ob-liqueˈly= (ŏb-lēkˈlĭ), slantingly. - -=oˈboe= (ōˈboi), a wind instrument. - -=obˌser-vaˈtion= (ŏbˌzẽr-vāˈshŭn), taking notice; the ascertaining of -the altitude of a heavenly body to find a vessel’s position at sea. - -=obˈsta-cle= (ŏbˈstȧ-k’l), hindrance. - -=obˈsti-na-cy= (ŏbˈstĭ-nȧ-sĭ), stubbornness. - -=obˈsti-nate-ly main-tainedˈ= (ŏbˈstĭ-nāt-lĭ mān-tāndˈ), stubbornly kept -up. - -=oc-caˈsion= (ŏ-kāˈzhŭn), occurrence, favorable opportunity. - -=oˈcean-warˈri-ors= (ōˈshŭn-wôrˈyẽrz), mariners. - -=Ock-la-waˈha= (ŏk-lä-wäˈhä), a branch of the St. Johns river in Florida. - -=ode= (ōd), a short poem suitable to be set to music or sung. - -=of-fenˈsive war= (ŏf-ĕnˈsĭv), an attack made by an invading army. - -=ofˈfice= (ŏfˈĭs), service. - -=offˈing= (ŏfˈĭng), that part of the sea where there is deep water and no -need of a pilot. - -=of his own caste= (kȧst), of his own class in society. - -=Og, King of Bashan= (ŏg, king of bāˈshăn), a giant defeated by the -Hebrews. Deuteronomy III. - -=oˈgling= (ōˈglĭng), glancing at, eyeing. - -=Old Noll= (nōl), Oliver Cromwell. - -=olˈy-koekˌ= (ŏlˈĭ-ko͡okˌ), kind of doughnut. - -=oˈmen= (ōˈmĕn), sign, foreboding. - -=omˈi-nous= (ŏmˈĭ-nŭs), foreboding, threatening evil. - -=onˈer-ous= (ŏnˈẽr-ŭs), burdensome. - -=oph-thalˈmi-a= (ŏf-thălˈmĭ-ȧ), inflammation of the membrane of the eye. - -=opˌpor-tuneˈly= (ŏpˌŏr-tūnˈlĭ), timely. - -=op-presˈsion= (ŏ-prĕshˈŭn), cruelty. - -=op-pressˈive= (ŏ-prĕsˈĭv), unjustly severe. - -=opˈu-lence= (ŏpˈu᷵-lẽns), wealth. - -=orb= (ôrb), a spherical body, globe. - -=or-dainedˈ= (ŏr-dāndˈ), appointed. - -=orˈdi-na-ries= (ôrˈdĭ-na᷵-rĭz), hotels. - -=ordˈnance= (ôrdˈnăns), cannon, artillery. - -=orˈgy= (ôrˈjĭ), drunken revelry. - -=Orkˈney= (ôrkˈnĭ), a county in Scotland, including the Orkney Islands. - -=orˈner-y= (ôrˈnẽr-ĭ), dialect for =ordinary=, bad-tempered. - -=orˌni-tholˈo-gy= (ôrˌnĭ-thŏlˈō-jĭ), the study of birds. - -=ortˈa-gues= (ôrtˈȧ-gūz), Spanish coins. - -=orˈtho-dox= (ôrˈthō-dŏks), sound of belief, approved. - -=Otˈter-holm= (ŏtˈẽr-hōm). - -=oust= (oust), to take away, remove. - -=outˈlawˈ= (outˈlôˈ), one deprived of the protection of the law. - -=outˈline= (outˈlīn), edge. - -=out-stayˈing= (out-stāˈĭng), staying beyond. - -=oˈver-haulˈ= (ōˈvẽr-hôlˈ), overtake. - -=owed him a grudge=, held it against him deservedly. - -=pace= (pās), walk over. - -=pacˈi-fied= (păsˈĭ-fīd), quieted, smoothed over. - -=padˈdy= (pădˈĭ), unhusked rice. - -=paˈgan= (pāˈgăn), one who worships false gods, a heathen. - -=page= (pāj), a youth undergoing training for knighthood. - -=pagˈeant= (păjˈĕnt), a spectacle, a stately or showy parade, often with -floats. - -=pain of a fearful curse=, threatening dire punishment. - -=paintˈed shell=, the ship. - -=Paisˈley= (pāzˈlĭ), a city near Glasgow, Scotland. - -=palˈfrey= (pălˈfrĭ), saddle horse for a lady. - -=palˈing= (pālˈĭng), fence. - -=palˈlet= (pălˈĕt), a small mean bed, a bed of straw. - -=palˈlid= (pălˈĭd), pale. - -=Pallˈ Mallˈ= (pĕlˈ mĕlˈ; pălˈ mălˈ), in London, a street which is the -center of fashionable club life. - -=palm-tree todˈdy= (päm-trē tŏˈdĭ), free or fermented sap of various East -Indian palms. - -=Pal-omˈi-des= (păl-ŏmˈĭ-dĕz). - -=palˈsy= (pôlˈzĭ), paralysis, lack of energy. - -=palˈtry= (pôlˈtrĭ), trifling, worthless. - -=pangs= (pāngz), keen, intense pain. - -=panˈic= (pănˈĭk), sudden fright. - -=panˈo-raˈma= (pănˈō-räˈmȧ), a complete view in every direction. - -=pant= (pȧnt), to breathe quickly or in a labored manner. - -=pa-radeˈ= (pȧ-rādˈ), display. - -=Parˈa-guay= (părˈȧ-gwā), a republic in South America. - -=Paˈri-an= (päˈre᷵-än), from Paros, a small island in the Aegean Sea from -which a beautiful white marble was obtained in ancient times. - -=parˈley= (pärˈlĭ), speech; talk. - -=Parˈlia-ment= (pärˈlĭ-mĕnt), the ruling body in England. - -=parˈsi-mo-ny= (pärˈsĭ-mō-nĭ), stinginess. - -=parˈtial-ly= (părˈshăl-ĭ), in part. - -=par-ticˈu-lar-ize= (pär-tĭkˈu᷵-lȧr-īz), to mention particularly or in -detail. - -=particularizing manner= (pär-tĭkˈu᷵-lȧr-īzˈ-ĭng), explaining every -detail. - -=par-ticˈu-lar-ly= (pär-tĭkˈu᷵-lȧr-lĭ), expressly, in an especial manner. - -=par-ticˈu-lars= (pär-tĭkˈu᷵-lȧrz), details. - -=parˈtridge= (pärˈtrĭj), a kind of bird. - -=pass= (pȧs), passage, road. - -=passˈing= (pȧsˈĭng), very. - -=pasˈsion= (păshˈŭn), feeling, deep interest or zeal. - -=pasˈsive= (păsˈĭv), indifferent, not active. - -=past musˈter-ing= (mŭsˈtẽr-ĭng), too much exhausted to tell. - -=patˈent= (pȧtˈĕnt), apparent. - -=pa-terˈnal= (pȧ-tûrˈnăl), pertaining to a father. - -=paˈthos= (pāˈthŏs), pity. - -=paˈtri-arch= (pātrĭ-ärk), veteran, an old man. - -=pa-trolˈ= (pȧ-trōlˈ), to guard, watch. - -=paˈtron= (pāˈtrŭn), a man of distinction under whose protection a client -placed himself; one who helps a person, cause, work, sport, or the like. - -=pavˈer= (pāvˈẽr), one who lays bricks or stones. - -=pa-vilˈion= (pȧ-vĭlˈyŭn), tent. - -=Paw-neeˈ= (pô-nēˈ), one of an Indian tribe. - -=Paw-tuckˈet= (pô-tŭkˈĕt). - -=peag= (pēg), shell beads used as money, etc., by the aborigines and -settlers of the Atlantic coast of North America. - -=peaˈ-jackˈet= (pēˈjăkˈĕt), a thick, loose, woollen, double-breasted coat. - -=peal= (pēl), a sound, loud summons. - -=peasˈant= (pĕzˈănt), countryman. - -=peasˈant-ry= (pĕzˈănt-rĭ), peasants. - -=pe-culˈiar= (pe᷵-kūlˈyȧr), belonging to or characteristic of; strange. - -=pe-culˈiar porˈtion= (pe᷵-kūlˈyȧr pôrˈshŭn), own particular share. - -=Peckˈsu-ot= (pĕkˈso̅o̅-ŏt), an Indian chief. - -=pe-cuˈni-a-ry= (pe᷵-kūˈnĭ-a᷵-rĭ), financial. - -=pedˈa-gogue= (pĕdˈȧ-gŏg), teacher. - -=pedˈi-gree= (pĕdˈĭ-grē), line of ancestors. - -=peer= (pēr), equal; lord. - -=Pelˈli-nore= (pĕlˈĭ-nōr). - -=pelˈtries= (pĕlˈtrĭz), skins. - -=penˌe-tratˈed= (pĕnˌe᷵-trātˈĕd), entered into. - -=penˈe-traˌtion= (pĕnˈe᷵-trāˌshŭn), sharpness, discrimination. - -=penitence was sincere= (pĕnˈĭ-tĕns, sĭn-sērˈ), were really sorry for -what they had done. - -=penˈi-tent= (pĕnˈĭ-tĕnt), sorrowful for offenses. - -=penˈnon= (pĕnˈŭn), flag. - -=penˈny-royˈal= (pĕnˈĭ-roiˈăl), a plant of the mint family. - -=Penˈrith= (pĕnˈrĭth), an ancient market town in northwestern England. - -=penˈsive= (pĕnˈsĭv), thoughtful, sad. - -=pent= (pĕnt), shut up or confined. - -=Penˈte-cost= (pĕnˈte᷵-kŏst), a festival of the Christian church observed -annually in remembrance of the descent of the Holy Ghost upon the -disciples; the seventh Sunday after Easter. - -=peˈon= (pēˈŏn), a common laborer; a serf in some countries. - -=peˈo-ny= (pēˈō-nĭ), a large, showy flower, red, pink, or pure white. - -=Pequod= or =Pequot= (pēˈkwŏt; pēˈkwōt), an Algonquian tribe of North -American Indians. - -=perˈad-venˈture= (pĕrˈăd-vĕnˈtu᷵r), perhaps. - -=per-amˈbu-laˈtion= (pĕr-ăm-bu᷵-lāˈshŭn), walk. - -=per-cepˈti-ble= (pĕr-sĕpˈtĭ-b’l), able to be seen; noticeable. - -=perˈemp-tor-y= (pĕrˈĕmp-tō-rĭ), final, positive. - -=per-fidˈi-ous inˌsti-gaˈtion= (pẽr-fĭdˈĭ-ŭs ĭnˌstĭ-gāˈshŭn), -treacherous goading. - -=perˈfi-dy= (pûrˈfĭ-dĭ), treachery. - -=perˈil= (pĕrˈĭl), danger. - -=perˈil-ous task=, dangerous undertaking. - -=perˌpen-dicˈu-lar= (pûrˌpĕn-dĭkˈu᷵-lȧr), exactly upright or vertical. - -=per-plexˈi-ty= (pẽr-plĕksˈĭ-tĭ), complication. - -=Perˈsant= (pĕrˈsȧnt). - -=perˌse-cuˈtion= (pûrˌse᷵-kūˈshŭn), the infliction of loss, pain, or -death for belief, etc.; pursuing to injure or trouble. - -=perˌse-vereˈ= (pûrˌse᷵-vērˈ), to continue. - -=per-sistˈed= (pẽr-sĭstˈĕd), stood firm. - -=perˈson-a-ble= (pûrˈsŭn-ȧ-b’l), good looking. - -=per-suaˈsive iron hooks= (pẽr-swāˈsĭv), iron hooks or goads which force. - -=perˌti-naˈcious= (pûrˌtĭ-nāˈshŭs), constant. - -=pe-ruseˈ= (pe᷵-ro̅o̅zˈ), read. - -=per-vadeˈ= (pẽr-vādˈ), spread through. - -=per-verseˈ= (pẽr-vûrsˈ), turned aside or away from the right; contrary. - -=pe-tiˈtion= (pe᷵-tĭshˈŭn), written request. - -=petˈty= (pĕtˈĭ), small. - -=pewˈter= (pūˈtẽr), dishes made of a combination of tin and some other -metal. - -=phanˈtom= (fănˈtŭm), a ghost, a fancied vision. - -=phase= (fāz), aspect. - -=phe-nomˈe-non=, pl. =phe-nomˈe-na= (fe᷵-nŏmˈe᷵-nŏn), an extraordinary or -very remarkable person, thing, or occurrence. - -=phi-lanˈthro-pist= (fĭl-ănˈthrō-pĭst), one who loves mankind and seeks -to promote the good of others. - -=Phi-lisˈtines= (fĭ-lĭsˈtĭnz), a people dwelling southwest of Palestine -who were frequently at war with the Hebrews. - -=Philˈlips Exˈe-ter A-cadˈe-my= (fĭlˈĭps ĕkˈse᷵-ter ȧ-kădˈe᷵-mĭ), a -preparatory school for boys in Exeter, N. H. - -=phi-losˈo-phy= (fĭ-lŏsˈō-fĭ), practical wisdom. - -=Phlegˈe-thon= (flĕgˈe᷵-thŏn), in Greek mythology a river of fire in the -lower world. - -=physˈi-cal-ly= (fĭzˈĭ-kăl-lĭ), naturally. - -=physˌi-ogˈno-my= (fĭzˌĭ-ŏgˈnō-mĭ), face. - -=phy-siqueˈ= (fĭ-zēkˈ), constitution. - -=pi-azˈza= (pĭ-ăzˈȧ), porch. - -=piˈbroch= (pēˈbrŏk), a Highland air suited to some particular passion, -especially a martial air played on the bagpipe. - -=pickˈet= (pĭkˈĕt), a pointed stake, or post; to fasten with stakes. - -=pier-glass= (pēr), a narrow mirror put up between windows. - -=piˈe-ty= (pīˈe᷵-tĭ), goodness. - -=pilˈlage= (pĭlˈa᷵j), plunder. - -=pilˈlion= (pĭlˈyŭn), a pad or cushion put on behind a man’s saddle for a -woman to ride on. - -=piˈlot= (pīˈlŭt), a person who directs the course of a ship along the -shore, or into and out of harbors and rivers. - -=pin= (pĭn), a piece of wood or metal, used as a fastening or support, a -peg. - -=pine=d (pīnd), wasted away, longed. - -=pinˈion= (pĭnˈyŭn), wing. - -=pinˈnace= (pĭnˈa᷵s), a small sailing vessel. - -=pinˈna-cle= (pĭnˈȧ-k’l), highest point. - -=pˈints=, dialect for =points=. - -=piˌo-neer=ˈ (pīˌō-nērˈ), one who goes before, as into the wilderness, -preparing the way for others to follow. - -=pipe the merry old strain=, sing the merry old song. - -=pipˈer= (pīpˈẽr), a very large genus of plants, to which the tropical -pepper belongs. - -=piqued= (pēkt), prided. - -=pitches= (pĭchˈĕz), points, peaks. - -=pitch of pride=, height of pride, overbearance. - -=plaˈca-ble= (plāˈkȧ-b’l), willing to forgive. - -=placˈid= (plăsˈĭd), quiet. - -=plaidˈed mountaineers= (plădˈĕd mounˈtĭn-ērz), Highlanders wearing the -tartans or plaids of their clan. - -=plainˈtive= (plānˈtĭv), sorrowful, melancholy. - -=planˈet-presˈsing ocean=, the ocean pressing upon the planet earth. - -=plan-taˈtion= (plăn-tāˈshŭn), land planted, an estate, usually large. - -=plantˈer= (plănˈtẽr), one who plants or sows, one who owns or -cultivates a plantation. - -=plasˈtic= (plăsˈtĭk), pertaining to molding or modeling. - -=pla-teauˈ= (plȧ-tōˈ), a broad, level, elevated area of land. - -=platˈformˌ= (plătˈfôrmˌ), plan, basis. - -=platˈi-num= (plătˈĭ-nŭm), a white metal, more valuable than gold, used -for jewelry and in mechanics. - -=Platte= (plăt), a river in Nebraska. - -=plausible in perusal= (plôˈzĭ-b’l in pe᷵-ro̅o̅zˈăl), sensible to read. - -=playˈwrightˌ= (plāˈrītˌ), a maker of plays, a dramatist. - -=pliˌa-bilˈi-ty= (plīˌȧ-bĭlˈĭ-tĭ), ready yielding. - -=plight= (plīt), sorry condition. - -=Po-casˈset Neck= (pō-căsˈĕt). - -=poet lauˈre-ate= (lôˈre᷵-a᷵t), a poet appointed to the office of -laureate, the most honored poet of the land, in England, the court poet. - -=poignˈant= (poinˈănt), keen, severe. - -=Poˌka-nokˈet= (pōˌkȧ-nŏkˈĕt). - -=poˈlar bear= (pōˈlȧr bâr), a large bear inhabiting the Arctic regions. - -=po-litˈi-cal ex-isˈten-ces= (pō-lĭtˈĭ-kăl ĕks-ĭsˈtĕn-sĭz), governmental -life. - -=polˌi-tiˈcian= (pŏlˌĭ-tĭshˈăn), a statesman, one interested in politics. - -=polˈi-tics= (pŏlˈĭ-tĭks), the science and art of government. - -=pol-luteˈ= (pŏ-lūtˈ), to soil, defile. - -=pol-luˈtion= (pŏ-lūˈshŭn), uncleanness, impurity. - -=pome-granˈate= (pŏm-grănˈa᷵t), a fruit like an orange in size and color. - -=pomˈmel= (pŭmˈĕl), the knob at the front of a saddle. - -=pomp= (pŏmp), brilliant display. - -=ponˈder-ous= (pŏnˈdẽr-ŭs), heavy, weighty. - -=popˈish= (pōpˈĭsh), pertaining to the Pope. - -=Popˈlar= (pŏpˈlär), a district in the east end of London, where there -are many docks; among others, that of the famous East India Company. - -=popˈpy= (pŏpˈĭ), a flower, usually red, the symbol of sleep. - -=popˈu-lar o-pinˈion= (pŏpˈu᷵-lȧr ō-pĭnˈyŭn), belief of the public in -general. - -=popˈu-lous= (pŏpˈu᷵-lŭs), containing many inhabitants. - -=porˈtal= (pōrˈtăl), entrance. - -=por-tendˈ= (pŏr-tĕndˈ), foretell. - -=por-tenˈtous= (pŏr-tĕnˈtŭs), foreshadowing. - -=porˈter= (pōrˈtẽr), gate keeper. - -=porˈti-co= (pōrˈtĭ-kō), a colonnade, a covered space before a building. - -=pos-sesˈsion= (pŏ-zĕshˈŭn), ownership. - -=pos-terˈi-ty= (pŏs-tẽrˈĭ-tĭ), descendants. - -=posˈtern-gate= (pōsˈtẽrn-gāt), rear gate. - -=posˈture= (pŏsˈtu᷵r), attitude, position. - -=poˈtent= (pōˈtĕnt), strong, powerful. - -=poˈten-tate= (pōˈtĕn-tāt), ruler. - -=powˈwowˈ= (pouˈwouˈ), medicine man. - -=pracˈticed= (prăkˈtĭst), skillful. - -=prayed him for sucˈcor= (sŭkˈẽr), begged him for aid. - -=pre-caˈri-ous= (pre᷵-kāˈrī-ŭs), not to be depended on, dangerous. - -=pre-cauˈtion= (pre᷵-kôˈshŭn), previous care. - -=preˈcept= (prēˈsĕpt), order. - -=pre-cepˈtor= (pre᷵-sĕpˈtẽr), ruler, master. - -=precˈious= (prĕshˈŭs), valuable. - -=pre-cipˈi-tate= (pre᷵-sĭpˈĭ-tāt), throw headlong, rush; fall suddenly. - -=pre-cipˈi-tous= (pre᷵-sĭpˈĭ-tŭs), steep. - -=pre-cipˈi-tous de-scentsˈ= (pre᷵-sĭpˈĭ-tŭs de᷵-sĕnts), waterfalls. - -=pre-ciseˈ= (pre᷵-sīsˈ), minutely exact. - -=preˌcon-ceivedˈ= (prēˌkŏn-sēv’dˈ), formed in the mind beforehand. - -=pre-domˈi-nate= (pre᷵-dŏmˈĭ-nāt), to rule. - -=preface= (prĕfˈās), introduction. - -=prejˈu-diced= (prĕjˈo͡o-dĭst), biased. - -=prelˈa-cy= (prĕlˈȧ-sĭ), a body of church dignitaries. - -=prelˈate= (prĕlˈa᷵t), a church dignitary. - -=preˌma-tureˈly= (prēˌmȧ-tūrˈ-lĭ), untimely. - -=preˈmi-um= (prēˈmĭ-ŭm), reward. - -=preˌmo-niˈtion= (prēˌmō-nĭshˈŭn), forewarning. - -=pre-posˈter-ous= (pre᷵-pŏsˈtẽr-ŭs), ridiculous, unheard of. - -=presˈage= (prēˈsa᷵j), sign, token. - -=pre-senˈti-ment= (prē-sĕnˈtĭ-mĕnt), a feeling of something about to -happen. - -=presˈer-vaˈtion= (pre᷵-zûr-vāˈshŭn), being saved from destruction. - -=press= (prĕs), throng. - -=pre-sumedˈ upon in-dulˈgence= (prē-zumedˈ upon ĭn-dūlˈjĕns), took -advantage of the tolerance of the Indians. - -=pre-sumˈing= (pre᷵-zūmˈĭng), undertaking without authority, daring, -venturing. - -=pre-sumpˈtu-ous= (pre᷵-zŭmpˈtu᷵-ŭs), rash, arrogant. - -=pre-tendˈer= (pre᷵-tĕndˈẽr), false claimant. - -=pre-tenˈtion= (pre᷵-tĕnˈshŭn), claim. - -=preˌter-natˈu-ral= (prĕtˌẽr-nătˈu᷵-răl), beyond what is natural, -abnormal. - -=pre-vail= (pre᷵-vālˈ), persuade, overcome. - -=pre-vailˈing= (pre᷵-vālˈĭng), most common, predominant. - -=prevˈa-lence= (prĕvˈȧ-lĕns), general existence. - -=prey= (prā), any animal that may be seized by another to be devoured. - -=prickˈing= (prĭkˈĭng), stinging. - -=prickˈly-pear= (prĭkˈlĭ-pâr), a flat-jointed, sharp-pointed cactus -having pear-shaped fruit. - -=priˈma-cy= (prīˈmȧ-sĭ), first rank. - -=pri-meˈval= (prī-mēˈvăl), first, original. - -=primˈi-tive= (prĭmˈĭ-tĭv), first, original. - -=prince of bragˈgarts= (prĭns of brăgˈȧrts), chief of boasters. - -=Prince of Orange=, William III of England. - -=Princeton University= (prĭnsˈtŏn ū-nĭ-vẽrˈsĭ-tĭ), at Princeton, New -Jersey. - -=pri-va-cy= (prīˈvȧ-sĭ), seclusion. - -=procˈla-maˌtion= (prŏkˈlȧ-māˌshŭn), notice. - -=prodˈi-gal= (prŏdˈĭ-găl), spendthrift. - -=pro-diˈgious= (prō-dĭjˈŭs), extraordinary in degree, huge. - -=pro-diˈgious apˈpa-riˌtion= (prō-dĭjˈŭs ăpˈ-ȧ-rĭshˌŭn), marvelous -appearance. - -=prodˈuce= (prŏdˈūs), yield, result. - -=pro-fanedˈ= (prō-fāndˈ), abused, debased. - -=pro-fesˈsion= (prō-fĕshˈŭn), acknowledgment, claim, promise. - -=pro-fesˈsion-al= (prō-fĕshˈŭn-ăl), regular, expert. - -=profˈfer= (prŏfˈẽr), offer. - -=projˈect= (prŏjˈĕkt), plan. - -=promˈon-to-ry= (prŏmˈŭn-tō-rĭ), high point of land projecting into the -sea. - -=prone= (prōn), disposed, inclined. - -=proneˈness to sus-piˈcion= (prōnˈnĕs to sŭs-pĭshˈŭn), inclination to -distrust. - -=pro-penˈsi-ty= (prō-pĕnˈsĭ-tĭ), inclination, habit. - -=prophˈe-cy= (prŏfˈe᷵-sĭ), a foretelling. - -=prophˈet= (prŏfˈĕt), one who foretells. - -=pro-porˈtion-ate= (prō-pōrˈshŭn-āt), at the same rate. - -=pro-porˈtioned= (prō-pōrˈshŭnd), corresponding, suited. - -=pro-priˈe-ty= (prō-prīˈe᷵-tĭ), fitness. - -=prosˈpect= (prŏsˈpĕkt), outlook, position, hope. - -=prosˈper-ous gales=, favorable-winds. - -=pro temˈpo-re= (prō tĕmˈpō-rē), for the time being, temporarily. - -=pro-testˈing= (prō-tĕstˈĭng), declaring, proclaiming. - -=Provˈi-dence= (prŏvˈĭ-dĕns), God. - -=provˈi-denˌtial-ly= (prŏvˈĭ-dĕnˌshăl-lĭ), guided by Providence; with -foresight. - -=pro-vinˈcial= (prō-vĭnˈshăl), narrow, not liberal. - -=provˈo-caˈtion= (prŏvˈō-kāˈshŭn), cause of resentment. - -=prowˈess= (prouˈĕs), skill. - -=pruˈdence= (pro̅o̅ˈdĕns), judgment. - -=pruˈdence dicˈtates= (pro̅o̅ˈdĕns dĭkˈtāts), reason advises. - -=pruˈdent= (pro̅o̅ˈdĕnt), wise, careful. - -=psalmˈo-dy= (sämˈō-dĭ), art of singing psalms. - -=pubˈlic measˈures= (pŭbˈlĭk mĕzhˈu᷵rz), action taken by the colonists -together. - -=puˈis-sant= (pūˈĭ-sănt), powerful. - -=pull up=, stop. - -=pul-saˈtion= (pŭl-sāˈshŭn), a beating or throbbing. - -=pumpˈkin= (pŭmpˈkĭn). - -=puncˈtu-al-ly= (pŭnkˈtu᷵ˈăl-ĭ), exactly, precisely. - -=pur-blindˈ prank= (pŭr-blīndˈ), careless act. - -=purˈport= (pûrˈpōrt), meaning. - -=put his person in adventure=, endangered himself. - -=quaffed= (kwȧft), drank. - -=quagˈmires= (kwăgˈmīrz), soft, wet lands which yield under the feet. - -=quail= (kwāl), to give way, tremble. - -=Quakˈer= (kwākˈẽr), one of a religious sect; gray-clothed. - -=qualˈi-ties= (kwŏlˈĭ-tĭz), distinguishing features or traits. - -=quarˈry= (qwŏrˈrĭ), a place where marble is dug from the earth; the -object of the chase or hunt. - -=quarˈter= (kwôrˈtẽr), after part of a ship’s side; mercy. - -=quarˈter-ing to me= (kwôrˈtẽr-ĭng), ranging to and fro towards me. - -=quaˈver= (kwāˈvẽr), certain musical shakes or trills. - -=Queen of Sheˈba= (shēˈbȧ), a famous queen of old. I Kings X, 1-13. - -=quench= (kwĕnch), check, destroy. - -=querˈu-lous= (kwĕrˈo͡ob-lŭs), complaining. - -=queued= (kūd), plaited into pigtails. - -=quinˈtal= (kwĭnˈtăl), a hundred weight. - -=quivˈer= (kwĭvˈẽr), a case for arrows. - -=Rachˈrin= (răkˈrĭn). - -=rack= (răk), wreck. - -=radˈi-cal= (rădˈĭ-kăl), extreme. - -=rakˈing= (rākˈĭng), firing upon the length of. - -=ralˈlied= (rălˈĭd), joked; assembled. - -=ralˈly-ing point= (rălˈĭ-ĭng), place where his forces were collected. - -=Ram-bodˈde= (räm-bōˈdȧ). - -=rampˈant= (rămˈpănt), excited; rearing upon the hind legs, with fore -legs extended. - -=ramˈpart= (rămˈpärt), protecting wall. - -=ranˈdom= (rănˈdŭm), chance, aimless. - -=range= (rānj), the region where an animal naturally lives. - -=rank= (rănk), grown coarse. - -=rantˈi-pole= (rănˈtĭ-pōl), wild young person. - -=rapˈture= (răp-tu᷵r), joyousness. - -=ratˈi-fied= (rătˈĭ-fīd), confirmed. - -=rat-tarriers=, incorrect for =rat-terˈri-er= (răt-tĕrˈĭ-ẽr), a breed of -dogs, useful in catching rats. - -=rave= (rāv), to move wildly or furiously. - -=ravˈen-ous= (răvˈ’n-ŭs), greedy. - -=ra-vineˈ= (rȧ-vēnˈ), a large gully. - -=ravˈish-ment= (răvˈĭsh-mĕnt), rapture. - -=rawˈboned pro-porˈtions= (rôˈbōndˈ prō-pōrˈshŭns), gaunt, or having -little flesh upon its form. - -=rawˈhide= (rôˈhīd), untanned cattle skin. - -=razed= (rāzd), ruined, demolished. - -=reˌad-justˈment= (rēˌă-jŭstˈmĕnt), rearrangement, new settlement. - -=reaped the fruits=, received the reward. - -=reaˈsoned upon the sitˌu-aˈtion= (rēˈz’nd upon the sĭtˌū-āˈshŭn), -thought about the matter. - -=Re-becˈca and Iˈsaac.= Genesis XXIV. - -=re-bukeˈ= (re᷵-būkˈ), scold, reprove; forbid. - -=re-cepˈta-cle= (re᷵-sĕpˈtȧ-k’l), that which holds anything. - -=re-cessˈ= (re᷵-sĕsˈ), a short intermission; a place of retreat. - -=reckˈon-ing= (rĕkˈ’n-ĭng), the calculation of the ship’s position. - -=re-coiledˈ= (re᷵-koildˈ), drew back. - -=recˌom-mendˈ= (rĕkˌŏ-mĕndˈ), advise; send greetings to. - -=recˈom-pense= (rĕkˈŏm-pĕns), payment. - -=recˈon-ciled= (rĕkˈŏn-sīld), made friendly again. - -=recˌon-cilˌi-aˈtion= (rĕkˌŏn-sĭlˌĭ-āˈshŭn), a returning to friendship, -reunion. - -=re-covˈered= (re᷵-kŭvˈẽrd), regained. - -=recˈre-ant= (rĕkˈre᷵-ănt), acknowledging defeat. - -=red= (rĕd), slang for =cent=. - -=re-deemedˈ= (re᷵-dēmdˈ), fulfilled. - -=re-doubtˈa-ble= (re᷵-doutˈȧ-b’l), dread; formidable. - -=red tribes=, Indians or red men. - -=reed= (rēd), an ancient Jewish measure of six cubits, or about nine feet. - -=re-flecˈtion= (re᷵-flĕkˈshŭn), opinion, thought. - -=reˈflux= (rēˈflŭks), flowing back, ebb. - -=re-frainˈ= (re᷵-frānˈ), to hold back, keep. - -=refˈuge= (rĕfˈūj), shelter. - -=refˌu-geeˈ= (rĕfˌu᷵-jēˈ), one who flees to a place of safety. - -=refˈuse= (rĕfˈūs), waste matter. - -=refused to execute=, would not carry out. - -=reˈgal= (rēˈgăl), royal. - -=regˈu-late= (rĕgˈu᷵-lāt), to control. - -=relˈa-tive= (rĕlˈȧ-tĭv), in reference to something else. - -=re-laxˈ= (re᷵-lăksˈ), loosen; calm down. - -=re-leaseˈ= (re᷵-lēsˈ), set free; freedom. - -=relˈic= (rĕlˈĭk), memorial, fragment. - -=re-linˈquished= (re᷵-lĭnˈkwĭsht), gave up. - -=re-lucˈtant= (re᷵-lŭkˈtănt), unwilling. - -=re-lyˈ on cover= (re᷵-līˈ), depend upon some means of hiding. - -=remˌi-nisˈcence= (rĕmˌĭ-nĭsˈĕns), recollection. - -=re-monˈstrance= (re᷵-mŏnˈstrăns), protest. - -=renˈdered me account= (rĕnˈdẽrd), given a reason. - -=renˈe-gade= (rĕnˈe᷵-gād), traitorous. - -=Renˈfrew-shire= (rĕnˈfro̅o̅-shẽr), a county. - -=re-nouncedˈ= (re᷵-nounstˈ), gave up. - -=re-nownedˈ= (re᷵-noundˈ), famous. - -=re-pealˈ= (re᷵-pēlˈ), release. - -=re-portˈed him-self= (re᷵-pōrtˈĕd), presented himself. - -=repˈtile= (rĕpˈtĭl), an animal that creeps on its stomach. - -=re-puteˈ= (re᷵-pūtˈ), character. - -=reˈqui-em= (rĕkˈwĭ-ĕm), funeral mass or hymn. - -=re-quireˈ= (re᷵-kwīrˈ), demand. - -=re-searchˈ= (re᷵-sûrchˈ), inquiry, examination. - -=re-serveˈ= (re᷵-zûrvˈ), backwardness. - -=re-signedˈ= (re᷵-zīndˈ), not disposed to resist; abandoned. - -=re-sistˈance= (re᷵-zĭsˈtăns), opposition. - -=resˈo-lute= (rĕzˈō-lūt), determined, brave. - -=re-soundˈed= (re᷵-zoundˈĕd), rang, echoed. - -=re-sourceˈ= (re᷵-sōrsˈ), capability of meeting a situation; support. - -=re-spectˈful-ly= (re᷵-spĕktˈfo͡ol-lĭ), civilly, courteously. - -=re-specˈtive-ly= (re᷵-spĕkˈtĭv-lĭ), relatively, as relating to each. - -=re-splendˈent= (re᷵-splĕnˈdĕnt), brilliant, shining. - -=re-sponˌsi-bilˈi-ty= (re᷵-spŏnˌsĭ-bĭlˈĭ-tĭ), state of being accountable. - -=rest= (rĕst), a projection from, or attachment on, the side of the -breastplate to support the butt of the lance. - -=resˌto-raˈtion= (rĕsˌtō-rāˈshŭn), reparation, giving back. - -=re-straintˈ= (re᷵-strāntˈ), check, curb. - -=resˌur-rectˈed= Italy (rĕzˌŭ-rĕktˈĕd), reborn Italy, Italy with a new -life. - -=re-tractˈ= (re᷵-trăktˈ), to withdraw. - -=retˌri-buˈtion= (rĕtˌrĭ-būˈshŭn), punishment. - -=re-trieveˈ= (re᷵-trēvˈ), regain, to bring back. - -=revˈe-nue= (rĕvˈe᷵-nu᷵), rent, income. - -=re-verˌber-aˈtion= (re᷵-vûrˌbẽr-āˈshŭn), reëchoing sound. - -=revˈer-ie= (rĕvˈẽr-ĭ), state of deep thought. - -=re-verseˈ= (re᷵-vûrsˈ), opposite. - -=re-vertˈed= (re᷵-vûrˈtĕd), returned. - -=re-viledˈ= (re᷵-vīldˈ), abused, upbraided. - -=re-vivˈing= (re᷵-vīvˈĭng), returning to life. - -=re-voltˈ= (re᷵-vōltˈ), rebel. - -=re-volvedˈ= (re᷵-vŏlvdˈ), thought over. - -=re-vulˈsion= (re᷵-vŭlˈshŭn), strong reaction, change. - -=rheuˈma-tism= (ro̅o̅ˈmȧ-tĭz’m), a disease which attacks the muscles, -joints, etc. - -=rhythˈmic= (rĭthˈmĭk), movement in musical time. - -=ribˈbing the ho-riˈzon= (rĭbˈĭng the hō-rīˈzŭn), streaking the horizon -with bars. - -=ridge= (rĭj), a range of mountains or hills. - -=riˈfled= (rīˈfl’d), robbed. - -=rift= (rĭft), an opening. - -=rigˈgers= (rĭgˈẽrz), workmen who fit the rigging of ships. - -=rightˈful in-habˈi-tants=, real owners. - -=rigˈid= (rĭjˈĭd), strict, severe. - -=ringˈbolt= (rĭngˈbōlt), a bolt with an opening through which a ring is -passed. - -=ringˈdove= (rĭngˈdŭv), a small pigeon. - -=Riˈo= (rēˈō), for Rio Janeiro (rēˈō zhä-nāˈrō). - -=rites= (rīts), ceremonies. - -=rites of primˈi-tive hosˌpi-talˈi-ty= (rīts of prĭmˈĭ-tĭv -hŏsˌpĭ-tălˈĭ-tĭ), ceremonies according to old time customs, such as -smoking the peace-pipe. - -=rivers stemming=, damming up the rivers. - -=rivˈet= (rĭvˈĕt), to fasten firmly. - -=roach-back= (rōch), a bear having an arched back. - -=ro-busˈtious= (rō-bŭsˈchŭs), large. - -=roll= (rōl), prolonged sound produced by rapid beating. - -=rolˈlers= (rōlˈlẽrz), long, heavy waves. - -=roll the deep melodious drum= (me᷵-lōˈdĭ-ŭs), beat the deep-voiced, -musical drum. - -=ro-manceˈ= (rō-mănsˈ), story. - -=Roosevelt, Theodore= (rōˈzĕ-vĕlt, almost rōzˈvĕlt, thēˈō-dōr), -twenty-sixth president of the United States. - -=Rosˈa-lind= (rŏzˈȧ-lĭnd). - -=rounˈde-lay= (rounˈde᷵-lā), a style of poem or song in which a word or -phrase constantly recurs, a round. - -=route= (ro̅o̅t), course or way. - -=rowˈel= (rouˈĕl), the sharp part of a spur. - -=Rowˈland de Boys= (rōˈlănd dē boiz). - -=Royˈal Ex-changeˈ= (roiˈăl ĕks-chānjˈ), a place in London where -merchants, brokers, and bankers, or other business men meet to do -business. - -=roystˈer-ing= (roīsˈtẽr-ĭng), swaggering. - -=rudˈder= (rŭdˈẽr), steering gear, a flat piece of wood or metal -attached to a boat to be used in steering. - -=rueˈing= (ro̅o̅ˈĭng), sorrowing. - -=rufˈfi-an-like= (rŭfˈĭ-ăn-līk), like a cruel, brutal fellow. - -=rum= (rŭm), an intoxicating liquor. - -=ruˈmi-nate= (ro̅o̅ˈmĭ-nāt), muse. - -=run a buffalo=, to pursue a buffalo until it is exhausted. - -=ruse= (ro̅o̅z), trick. - -=rusˈtic= (rŭsˈtĭk), an inhabitant of the country naturally simple in -character or manners. - -=Ruth and Boaz= (ro̅o̅th, bōˈăz), Ruth IV. - -=saˈber= (sāˈbẽr), a curved sword. - -=saˈchem= (sāˈchĕm), chief. - -=sacked= (săkt), plundered after capturing. - -=sacˈri-lege= (săkˈrĭ-lĕj), the sin or crime of violating sacred things. - -=sadˈdle-bagsˌ= (sădˈ’l-băgzˌ), large bags, generally of leather, used by -horsemen to carry small articles. One hangs on each side of the saddle. - -=sadˈdling= (sădˈlĭng), burdening. - -=Sa-fereˈ= (să-fērˈ). - -=saˈga= (säˈgȧ), a Scandinavian legend. - -=sa-gaˈcious= (să-gāˈshŭs), wise, intelligent. - -=sagˈa-more= (săgˈȧ-mōr), an Indian chief next lower in rank to sachem. - -=sage= (sāj), a wise man. - -=sage-bush= (sāj-bo͡osh), a plant. - -=Saint Anˈdrew=, patron saint of Scotland. - -=Saint George=, patron saint of England. - -=Saint Gregˈo-ry= (grĕgˈŏ-rĭ), a member of an illustrious Roman family, -who became a monk and later was elected pope (540-604). - -=Saint Viˈtus= (vīˈtŭs), a martyr of Rome. - -=sa-laamˈ= (sȧ-lȧmˈ), salutation performed by bowing very low and placing -the right palm on the forehead. - -=salˈa-ble= (sālˈȧ-b’l), capable of being sold. - -=salˈlied= (sălˈĭd), rushed out. - -=salˈlows= (sălˈōz), willows. - -=salmˈon= (sămˈŭn), a kind of large fish. - -=sal-vaˈtion= (săl-vāˈshŭn), deliverance from destruction. - -=saˈmite= (sāˈmīt), a kind of heavy silk cloth, usually interwoven with -gold. - -=Samˈo-set= (sămˈō-sĕt), an Indian chief. - -=sancˈti-ty= (sănkˈtĭ-tĭ), holiness. - -=Sand-fleˈsen= (sănd-flāˈsĕn). - -=sandˈpipˈer= (săndˈpīpˈẽr), a small bird frequenting sandy and muddy -shores. - -=sanˈgui-na-ry= (sănˈgwĭ-na᷵-rĭ), blood-thirsty, murderous. - -=sanˌi-taˈri-um= (sănˌĭ-tāˈrĭ-ŭm), health station or retreat. - -=Santee= (săn-tēˈ), a river in South Carolina. - -=sapˈphire= (săfˈīr), a blue transparent stone, prized as a gem. - -=Sarˈa-cens= (sărˈȧ-sĕnz), the Mohammedans who held the Holy Land. - -=satˈu-ratˌed= (sătˈū-rātˌĕd), soaked. - -=Sauger Point= (sä-gōrˈ), at the mouth of the Ganges River. - -=sauˈri-an= (sôˈrĭ-ăn), a reptile. - -=savˈage ca-resˈses= (săvˈa᷵j kȧ-rĕsˈĕz), rude acts of affection. - -=saw=, talking, preaching. - -=Saxˈon= (săkˈsŭn), English. - -=scabˈbard= (skăbˈȧrd), a sheath, a cover for a sword when not in use. - -=scafˈfold= (skăfˈōld), a platform upon which a criminal is executed. - -=scalˈpel= (skălˈpĕl), a small knife with a thin blade, used by surgeons. - -=scan= (skăn), examine with care. - -=scepˈter= (sĕpˈtẽr), a staff borne by a sovereign as an emblem of -authority. - -=schoonˈer= (sko̅o̅nˈẽr), a two-masted vessel. - -=schoonˈer-rigged smack= (sko̅o̅nˈẽr rĭgd smăk), a two-masted fishing -vessel. - -=sciˈence= (sīˈĕns), knowledge. - -=sciˈen-tist= (sīˈĕn-tĭst), one who has wide knowledge of principles and -facts. - -=scoff= (skŏf), scorn. - -=score= (skōr), twenty. - -=scot-free= (skŏt-frē), entirely free, without punishment. - -=scourge= (skûrj), to strike. - -=scourˈing= (skourˈĭng), passing over quickly. - -=scribe= (skrīb), writer. - -=Scripˈtures= (skrĭpˈtu᷵rz), the Bible. - -=scruˈples= (skro̅o̅ˈp’lz), delicate feelings, hesitation. - -=scruˈpu-lous-ly= (skro̅o̅ˈpu᷵-lŭs-lĭ), carefully, conscientiously. - -=scruˈti-nized= (skro̅o̅ˈtĭ-nĭzd), examined. - -=scruˈti-ny= (skro̅o̅ˈtĭ-nĭ), close examination. - -=scudˈ= (skŭdˈ), move swiftly. - -=sculpˈture= (skŭlpˈtu᷵r), carve. - -=scutˈtling= (skŭtˈlĭng), running swiftly. - -=seal and hand=, order, king’s own pledge. - -=seaˈmew= (sēˈmū), sea-gull. - -=se-cesˈsion= (se᷵-sĕshˈŭn), withdrawal of the eleven states from the -Union in 1860. - -=se-cluˈsion= (se᷵-klo̅o̅ˈshŭn), solitude. - -=se-dateˈ= (se᷵-dātˈ), quiet. - -=sedˈen-ta-ry= (sĕdˈĕn-ta᷵-rĭ), characterized by much sitting. - -=seer= (sēr; sēˈẽr), a prophet. - -=segˈment= (sĕgˈmĕnt), a part cut off. - -=self-conˈfi-dence= (sĕlf-kŏnˈfĭ-dĕns), self-reliance. - -=self-evˈi-dent= (sĕlf-ĕvˈĭ-dĕnt), plain or clear without proof. - -=self-pos-sesˈion=, presence of mind. - -=self-stayed= (sĕlf-stād), self-reliant, trusting to one’s own power. - -=semˈblance= (sĕmˈblăns), likeness. - -=sen-saˈtions= (sĕn-sāˈshŭnz), feelings. - -=senˈsi-ble= (sĕnˈsĭ-b’l), aware, having sense or reason. - -=senˈtence= (sĕnˈtĕns), punishment. - -=senˈti-ment= (sĕnˈtĭ-mĕnt), feeling, opinion. - -=senˈtries= (sĕnˈtrĭz), guards. - -=seˈpoy= (sēˈpoi), a native of India, employed as a soldier in the -service of a European power. - -=sepˈul-cher= (sĕpˈŭl-kẽr), grave, tomb. - -=seˈquence= (sēˈkwĕns), arrangement by regular succession or degrees. - -=se-quesˈtered= (se᷵-kwĕsˈtẽrd), secluded. - -=serˈried= (sĕrˈĭd), crowded, one after another, in rapid succession. - -=serˈvile= (sûrˈvĭl), as slaves, slavish. - -=set him a severe task=, gave him a hard piece of work to do. - -=setˈter= (sĕtˈẽr), a hunting dog. - -=se-verˈi-ty= (se᷵-vĕrˈĭ-tĭ), harshness. - -=Se-ville= (se᷵-vĭlˈ), a province of Spain. - -=Sexˈa-gesˈi-ma= (sĕkˈsă-jĕsˈĭ-mȧ), second Sunday before Lent. - -=shaft= (shȧft), a narrow, deep pit in the earth communicating with a -mine. - -=shamˈble= (shămˈb’l), to walk awkwardly. - -=Shamˈrock of Ireˈland= (shămˈrŏk of īrˈ-lănd), a plant, with clover-like -leaf, used as the national emblem of Ireland. - -=sheathed= (shēthd), put into a case. - -=sheathˈing= (shēthˈĭng), the casing or covering of a ship’s bottom and -sides. - -=sheer unobstructed precipice= (shēr ŭn-ŏb-strŭktˈĕd prĕsˈĭ-pĭs), an -extremely high cliff without vegetation. - -=Sheffield= (shĕfˈēld), a manufacturing city in Yorkshire, England, noted -for its excellent cutlery. - -=shift= (shĭft), a turning from one thing to another; change. - -=shillˈing= (shĭlˈĭng), a silver British coin, value about twenty-four -cents. - -=shipˈshapeˌ= (shĭpˈshāpˌ), tidy, orderly. - -=shrouded= (shroudˈĕd), concealed. - -=shucked= (shŭkt), colloquial, laid aside. - -=shufˈfled= (shŭfˈ’ld), shifted. - -=shutˈtle= (shŭtˈ’l), an instrument used in weaving; the sliding thread -holder in a sewing machine. - -=siˈdled= (sīˈd’ld), moved sidewise. - -=si-erˈra= (se᷵-ĕrˈrȧ), a ridge of mountains, with an irregular outline. - -=sigˌni-fi-caˈtion= (sĭgˌnĭ-fĭ-kāˈshŭn), meaning, import. - -=silent ghosts in misty shrouds=, like noiseless ghosts dressed in -garments of mist. - -=silˈver-tip= (sĭlˈvẽr-tĭp), a grizzly bear having the hairs whitish at -the ends. - -=si-milˈi-tude= (sĭ-miĭlˈĭ-tūd), likeness. - -=siˈmulˈtaˈne-ous= (sīˈmŭlˈtāˈne᷵-ŭs), existing, happening, or done, at -the same time. - -=sinˈew= (sĭnˈū), cord, tendon. - -=sinˌgu-larˈi-ty= (sĭnˌgu᷵-lărˈĭ-tĭ), peculiarity. - -=sinˈis-ter= (sĭnˈĭs-tẽr), evil. - -=sinˈu-ous= (sĭnˈu᷵-ŭs), winding. - -=sire= (sīr), an older person, elder. - -=siˈren= (sīˈrĕn), one of a group of sea nymphs who lured sailors to -destruction by their singing. - -=sixpence= (sĭksˈpĕns), a small British coin, six pennies, or twelve -cents. - -=Skald= (skôld), a Scandinavian poet who sings of the heroic deeds of his -people. - -=Skarˈholm= (skärˈhōm). - -=Skaw= (skô), the name of a cape at the extremity of Jutland, Denmark. - -=skids= (skĭds), a pair of rails on which to roll something. - -=skiff=, any small, light sailing vessel. - -=skim=, pass over quickly or lightly. - -=skirtˈing=, running along the edge. - -=Skoal= (skōl), Scandinavian for Hail. - -=slack= (slăk), of tidal waters, the period when there is no horizontal -motion of water at the surface, inactive. - -=sledge-hamˈmers= (slĕj-hămˈẽrz), large, heavy hammers. - -=sleepˈing-bag= (slēpˈĭng-băg), a long bag, usually made of skin with the -fur on the inside, used by hunters to sleep in. - -=sloop= (slo̅o̅p), sailing vessel. - -=slug-gish= (slŭgˈĭsh), dull, drowsy. - -=small-bore= (smôl-bōr), small opening. - -=small clothes= (klōthz), knee breeches. - -=smartˈness= (smärtˈnĕs), liveliness, quickness. - -=Smiˈley, Le-onˈi-das W.= (smīˈlĭ, lē-ŏnˈĭ-dăs). - -=smith= (smĭth), one who forges with a hammer. - -=Smith-soˈni-an Mu-seˈum= (smĭth-sōˈnĭ-ăn mu᷵-zēˈŭm), a large government -museum in Washington, D. C. - -=smut-face=, a black-faced bear. - -=snafˈfle= (snăfˈ’l), a bridle bit. - -=snake= (snāk), slang for jerk. - -=snare= (snâr), trap. - -=So-fronˈie= (sō-frōnˈē). - -=soˈjourned= (sōˈjûrnd), dwelt. - -=solˈace= (sŏlˈa᷵s), comfort, console. - -=soldiers without strife=, soldiers that do not have to fight. - -=so-licˈit-ous= (sō-lĭsˈĭ-tŭs), anxious. - -=so-licˈi-tude= (sō-lĭsˈĭ-tūd), concern. - -=sonˈnet= (sŏnˈĕt), a poem consisting of fourteen lines. - -=sootˈy= (so͡otˈĭ; so̅o̅tˈĭ), soiled by soot. - -=sorˈcer-ess= (sôrˈsẽr-ĕs), a woman magician. - -=sorˈdid= (sôrˈdĭd), base, mean. - -=sore vexed= (sōr vĕxd), sad at heart. - -=sorˈrel= (sŏrˈrĕl), one of various plants having a sour juice. - -=souls that sped=, those who were killed. - -=source= (sōrs), beginning, starting place. - -=sovˈer-eign= (sŏvˈẽr-ĭn), ruler. - -=sovˈer-eign digˈni-ty= (sovˈẽr-ĭn dĭgˈnĭ-tĭ), dignity or honorable -station as a ruler. - -=spaˈcious= (spāˈshŭs), of great space. - -=Spanˈish Ar-maˈda= (är-māˈdȧ). - -=spanked= (spănkt), moved quickly. - -=spar= (spär), a round solid piece of timber, mast. - -=Sparks, Jared= (spärks, jărˈĕd), an American historian (1789-1866). - -=spas-modˈic= (spăz-mŏdˈĭk), fitful. - -=spawn= (spôn), bring forth. - -=speˈcie= (spēˈshĭ), money. - -=speˈcies= (spēˈshēz), kind, variety. - -=spe-cifˈic i-denˈti-ty= (spe᷵-sĭfˈĭk ī-dĕnˈtĭ-tĭ), exact points of -sameness. - -=specˈta-cle= (spĕkˈtȧ-k’l), sight, exhibition. - -=specˈter= (spĕkˈtẽr), ghost. - -=spec-trolˈo-gy= (spĕk-trŏlˈō-jĭ), the study of specters, or ghosts. - -=specˈu-latˌing= (spĕkˈū-lātˌĭng), thinking, guessing. - -=specˌu-laˈtion= (spĕkˌu᷵-lāˈshŭn), scheme. - -=spherˈi-cal= (sfĕrˈĭ-kăl), round. - -=spiˈral-ly= (spīˈrăl-ĭ), winding like a coil. - -=spirtˈing= (spûrtˈĭng), shooting up. - -=spit= (spĭt), a rod for holding meat while roasting over a fire. - -=spoil=, booty, plunder. - -=spon-taˈne-ous= (spŏn-tāˈne᷵-ŭs), free, voluntary. - -=sportsˈman-like= (spōrtsˈmăn-līk), like a sportsman, one who is fair in -sports. - -=sprat= (sprăt), little fish. - -=sprite= (sprīt), elf; fairy. - -=spurˈring= (spûrˈĭng), pricking with spurs. - -=squalˈid= (skwŏlˈĭd), dirty, foul, filthy. - -=squal= (skwôl), a sudden gust of wind. - -=squire= (skwīr), the title of dignity next below that of knight. - -=Stadtˈholdˌer= (stătˈhōldˌẽr), formerly the chief ruler of the United -Provinces of Holland. - -=staggered at the suggestion= (stăgˈẽrd at the sŭg-jĕsˈchŭn), became -less confident at the idea. - -=stagnant fen=, foul marshland. - -=stalkˈing= (stôkˈĭng), walking or stealing along cautiously. - -=stalˈwart= (stôlˈwẽrt), strong. - -=stanch= (stȧnch), firm, unwavering. - -=stanched= (stȧncht), stopped the flowing. - -=standˈard= (stăndˈẽrd), flag, banner. - -=standing puzˈzle= (stăndˈĭng pŭz’l), a problem which has not been solved. - -=starboard quarter= (stärˈbōrd;—bẽrd), off the right-hand forward -quarter of the ship. - -=stark= (stärk), entirely, quite. - -=starveˈling= (stärvˈlĭng), lean. - -=statˈure= (stătˈu᷵r), figure. - -=statˈute= (stătˈu᷵t), law. - -=stave= (stāv), note. - -=St. Bar-tholˈo-mew= (bär-thŏlˈō-mū), an organized slaughter of French -Huguenots in Paris, Aug. 24, 1572. - -=steeˈple-chase= (stēˈp’l-chās), a race across country between horsemen. - -=sterˈling coinˈage= (stûrˈlĭng koinˈa᷵j), genuine manufacture, true make. - -=stern-sheets=, a place in the stern of an open boat not occupied by -seats. - -=stewˈard= (stūˈẽrd), a person employed to provide for, and wait upon, -the table. - -=stiˈfle= (stīˈf’l), to stop, deaden. - -=stimˈu-latˌed= (stĭmˈu᷵-lātˌĕd), aroused. - -=stint= (stĭnt), task. - -=stipˈu-latˌed=, made an agreement. - -=St. Nichˈo-las= (nĭkˈō-lăs), the patron saint of seafaring men. - -=St. Ninˈi-an= (nĭnˈĭ-ȧn), a British missionary. - -=stock= (stŏk), cattle, sheep, etc. - -=stock sadˈdle= (stŏk sȧdˈ’l), a saddle having a high knobbed pommel, -used by cowboys. - -=stoˈi-cism= (stōˈĭ-sĭz’m), practice of showing indifference to pleasure -or pain. - -=stomˈach-er= (stŭmˈŭk-ẽr), an ornamental covering for the front of the -upper body. - -=stoutˈly mainˈtains= (stoutˈlĭ mānˈtānz) strongly asserts or says. - -=stradˈdle-bugˈ=, a long-legged beetle. - -=stratˈa-gem= (strătˈȧ-jĕm), a trick in war for deceiving the enemy. - -=strike= (strīk), act of quitting work, not to resume unless certain -conditions are fulfilled. - -=stripˈling= (strĭpˈlĭng), youthful. - -=Stuart= (stūˈẽrt), the ruling family to which James II of England -belonged. - -=stuntˈed= (stŭntˈĕd), undeveloped. - -=stuˈpe-fied= (stūˈpe᷵-fīd), made stupid. - -=stu-penˈdous di-menˈsions= (stū-pĕnˈdŭs dĭ-mĕnˈshŭnz), great size. - -=sturˈgeon= (stûrˈjŭn), a large fish covered with tough skin. - -=style= (stīl), to name, term, call. - -=Suarˈven= (swärˈvĕn). - -=suaˈsion= (swāˈzhŭn), persuasion. - -=subˌju-gaˈtion= (sŭbˌjū-gāˈshŭn), conquest. - -=sub-limeˈ= (sŭb-līmˈ), majestic. - -=sub-limˈi-ty= (sŭb-lĭmˈĭ-tĭ), grandeur, stateliness. - -=sub-misˈsion= (sŭb-mĭshˈŭn), patience. - -=sub-orˈdi-nate= (sŭb-ôrˈdĭ-na᷵t), inferior. - -=sub-ornedˈ= (sŭb-ôrndˈ), procured unlawfully. - -=subˈse-quent= (sŭbˈse᷵-kwĕnt), later. - -=sub-sideˈ= (sŭb-sīdˈ), to quiet. - -=sub-sistˈed= (sŭb-sĭstˈĕd), existed. - -=subˈstance= (sŭbˈstăns), contents. - -=subˈsti-tute= (sŭbˈstĭ-tūt), exchange. - -=subˌter-raˈne-an= (sŭbˌtĕr-āˈne᷵-ăn), underground. - -=subˈtle= (sŭtˈ’l), clever. - -=suc-ceedsˈ= (sŭk-sēdsˈ), follows. - -=suc-cesˈsion= (sŭk-sĕshˈŭn), following one after another in a series. - -=sucˈcor= (sŭkˈẽr), help. - -=such-like vex-aˈtious tricks= (vĕks-āˈ-shŭs), teasing tricks of such a -kind. - -=sucˈtion= (sŭkˈshŭn), a sucking in. - -=sufˈfer= (sŭfˈfẽr), permit, allow; feel. - -=suf-ficeˈ= (sŭ-fīsˈ), be enough, satisfy. - -=Sufˈfolk= (sŭfˈŭk), county of England. - -=suite= (swēt), company of attendants. - -=sulˈlen= (sŭlˈĕn), gloomy, dismal, sad. - -=sulˈphur-ous= (sŭlˈfŭr-ŭs), containing sulphur. - -=sulphur smoke= (sŭlˈfŭr), smoke of battle. - -=sulˈtry= (sŭlˈtrĭ), hot and moist. - -=suˈmac= (sūˈmăk), a shrub. - -=sumˈma-ry= (sŭmˈȧ-rĭ), a short account of a long story; done without -delay or formality. - -=sumˈmoned= (sŭmˈŭnd), invited, called forth. - -=sumˈmons= (sŭmˈŭnz), calls; an order to appear in court. - -=sumpˈtu-ous= (sŭmpˈtu᷵-ŭs), large. - -=sunˈdry= (sŭnˈdrĭ), several, special. - -=suˌper-fiˈcial= (sūˌpẽr-fĭshˈăl), shallow. - -=su-peˌri-orˈi-ty= (su᷵-pēˌrĭ-ôrˈĭ-tĭ), odds, advantage. - -=su-peˈri-or prowˈess= (su᷵-pēˈrĭ-ẽr prouˈĕs), greater worth or bravery. - -=suˌper-nuˈmer-a-ry= (sūˌpẽr-nūˈmẽr-a᷵-rĭ), more than necessary. - -=su-per-stiˈtion= (sū-pẽr-stĭˈshŭn), a fear of the unknown or mysterious. - -=su-pineˈly; suˈpine-ly= (su᷵-pīnˈlĭ; sūˈpīn-lĭ), inactively, carelessly. - -=sup-plantˈed= (sŭ-plăntˈĕd), taken the place of. - -=supˈple-jackˌ= (sŭpˈ’l-jăkˌ), a woody climbing shrub. - -=supˈpli-catˈing= (sŭpˈlĭ-kātˈĭng), beseeching, entreating, petitioning. - -=supˌpo-siˈtions= (sŭpˌō-zĭshˈŭnz), surmises, thoughts. - -=sureˈty= (sho̅o̅rˈtĭ), one who stands in place of another; security. - -=surf= (sûrf), the swell of the sea breaking upon the shore. - -=surge= (sûrj), a rolling swell of water. - -=surˈly= (sûrˈlĭ), sullen. - -=surˈplice= (sûrˈplĭs), the white outer garment worn in church services. - -=sur-veyˈ= (sûr-vāˈ), to examine; to measure the land with instruments. - -=sur-viveˈ= (sŭr-vīvˈ), to live. - -=sus-tainˈ= (sŭs-tānˈ), to keep from falling; to bear. - -=susˈte-nance= (sŭsˈte᷵-năns), provisions. - -=swain= (swān), country lover. - -=swampˈing= (swŏmpˈĭng), sinking by filling with water. - -=swank= (swănk), dialect for swagger. - -=swarthˈy= (swôrˈthĭ), of dark complexion. - -=sweep= (swēp), a long oar used in small vessels, either to propel or -steer. - -=swell= (swĕl), gradual rising of land. - -=swelˈter= (swĕlˈtẽr), heat; rolls. - -=swerved= (swûrvd), turned aside. - -=Sybˈa-ris= (sĭbˈȧ-rĭs), in ancient geography, a city in northern Italy -famous for its great wealth and luxury. - -=sycˈa-more= (sĭkˈȧ-mōr), a tree with large leaves, and trunk with -mottled bark, growing near streams. - -=Sycˈo-rax= (sĭkˈō-răks). - -=sylˈvan= (sĭlˈvăn), forestlike, rustic. - -=symˈbol= (sĭmˈbŏl), sign, emblem. - -=sympˈtom= (sĭmˈtŭm), sign. - -=sysˈtem-atˈic= (sĭsˈtĕm-ătˈĭk), in regular order, according to a -definite plan. - -=tacˈi-turn= (tăsˈĭ-tûrn), not talkative. - -=tackˈle= (tăkˈ’l), rigging of a ship. - -=tankˈard= (tănkˈȧrd), a drinking vessel with a lid. - -=taˈper= (tāˈpẽr), growing smaller towards the end. - -=tapˈes-try= (tăpˈĕs-trĭ), hangings of wool or silk with gold or silver -threads producing a pattern or picture. - -=Tappan Zee= (tăpˈăn), a wide expansion of the Hudson River. - -=tarˈtan= (tärˈtăn), Scotch soldiers; woolen cloth, cross barred with -narrow bands of various colors, much worn in the Scottish Highlands, -where each clan has a different tartan. - -=Tarˈtar= (tärˈtȧr), in the middle ages, the host of Mongol, Turk, and -Chinese warriors who swept over Asia and threatened Europe. - -=tasˈsel= (tăsˈ’l), a kind of ornament. - -=tatˈtered= (tătˈẽrd), torn in shreds. - -=taunt= (tänt), mockery, reproach. - -=taxˈi-derˌmist= (tăksˈsĭ-dûrˌmĭst), one who mounts the skins of animals. - -=tchick= (chĭk), click. - -=teˈdi-ous= (tēˈdĭ-ŭs), tiresome. - -=teemed= (tēmd), was full of. - -=teeth of the wind=, grasp of the wind. - -=telˈe-scope= (tĕlˈe᷵-skōp), an instrument used to view far-off objects. - -=temˈper-ate= (tĕmˈpẽr-a᷵t), that part which lies between the torrid -zone and the polar circle. - -=tempest trumpings=, thunder. - -=tem-pesˈtu-ous= (tĕm-pĕsˈtû-ŭs), stormy. - -=temˈpo-ral= (tĕmˈpō-răl), of this life. - -=te-naˈcious= (te᷵-nāˈshŭs), holding fast. - -=te-nacˈi-ty= (te᷵-năsˈĭ-tĭ), state of being tenacious or sticking to a -thing. - -=tendˈer= (tĕnˈdẽr), offer. - -=tenˈdril= (tĕnˈdrĭl), a small shoot. - -=tenˈor= (tĕnˈẽr), nature, character; general course, conduct. - -=tent-peg= (tĕnt-pĕg), a piece of wood used to hold the ropes of a tent. - -=tenˈure= (tĕnˈu᷵r), a holding. - -=terˈmi-natˌed= (tûrˈmĭ-nātˌĕd), ended, bounded. - -=terˌrifˈic funˈnel=, gigantic whirlpool. - -=terˌrifˈic grandˈeur=, magnificence which could only frighten. - -=tesˈti-mo-ny= (tĕsˈtĭ-mō-nĭ), declaration of facts. - -=teteˈa-teteˈ= (tātˈȧ-tāt; tĕˈtȧ-tât), private conversation. - -=texˈture= (tĕksˈtūr), fine structure. - -=Thames= (tĕmz), a river in England. - -=Thanˌa-topˈsis= (thănˌȧ-tŏpˈsĭs). - -=theme= (thēm), a subject or topic on which a person writes or speaks. - -=theˈo-ry= (thēˈō-rĭ), a general principle; plan; speculation. - -=there-withˈ= (thâr-wĭthˈ), at the same time; besides. - -=ther-momˈe-ter= fell (thẽr-mŏmˈe᷵-tẽr), temperature became colder. - -=thickˈet= (thĭkˈĕt), a dense growth of shrubbery. - -=thine arms with-stoodˈ= (wĭth-sto̅o̅dˈ), resisted your army. - -=Thorˈeau, Henˈry Daˈvid= (thōˈrō; thō-rōˈ). - -=thread= (thrĕd), make one’s way over. - -=thrice= (thrīs), three times, most. - -=throsˈtle= (thrŏsˈ’l), a thrush. - -=throw up the sponge=, to give up. - -=thwart= (thwôrt), a rower’s seat. - -=thymˈy= (tīmˈĭ), fragrant, or filled with thyme, a sweet-scented herb. - -=Ti-betˈ= (tĭ-bĕtˈ), a country in the southwestern part of the Chinese -empire. - -=tiˈdings= (tīˈdĭngz), news, intelligence. - -=tier= (tēr), row, one row above another. - -=tilˈler= (tĭlˈẽr), a lever of wood or metal fitted to the rudder and -used for turning it from side to side to steer. - -=timˈbered= (tĭmˈbẽrd), wooded. - -=time dried the maiden’s tears=, gradually she became happy in her new -surroundings. - -=timˈmer-man= (tĭmˈmẽr-măn), carpenter. - -=tipˈpling= (tĭpˈlĭng), drinking. - -=tisˈsue= (tĭshˈu᷵), a thinly woven fabric. - -=Tiˈtan= (tīˈtăn), one of the primeval gods, older than the Greek gods; -of majestic form. - -=ti-tanˈic= (tī-tănˈĭk), gigantic, enormous. - -=toast= (tōst), a sentiment expressed formally at the table. - -=toils of the chase=, the labors of hunting. - -=Tokˌa-ma-haˈmon= (tŏkˌȧ-mä-häˈmŏn), an Indian chief. - -=toˈken= (tōˈk’n), sign. - -=told off=, counted or picked out. - -=tolˈer-a-ble= (tŏlˈẽr-ȧ-b’l), moderately good, agreeable. - -=tolerably correct Cutter= (tŏl-ẽrˈȧ-blĭ), a very good imitation of a -deep-keeled vessel. - -=toll= (tōl), tax. - -=tongue= (tŭng), bell clapper. - -=took my degree=, was graduated. - -=toˈpaz= (tōˈpăz), a kind of yellow quartz. - -=topped= (tŏpt), reached the top of. - -=torˈpid= (tôrˈpĭd), dull, inactive, sluggish. - -=torˈtoise= (tôrˈtĭs; tŭs), kind of turtle. - -=to run the gauntlet= (gäntˈlĕt; gôntˈlĕt), to go through the extreme -dangers. - -=Toˈry= (tōˈrĭ), the name of one of the historic political parties in -England. - -=tossˈing a-breastˈ=, riding the waves opposite. - -=tour= (to̅o̅r), a short journey from place to place. - -=tourˈna-ment= (to̅o̅rˈnȧ-mĕnt; tu᷵rˈ-), knightly combat. - -=tow-cloth= (tō-klŏth), coarse, hand-woven cloth. - -=to wear ship=, to cause to go about in a different direction. - -=towˈrope= (tōˈrōp), a rope or chain by which anything is pulled. - -=track the street=, walk the street leaving the tracks or imprints of his -feet. - -=tracˈta-ble= (trăkˈtȧ-b’l), easily controlled, manageable. - -=trafˈfic= (trăfˈĭk), the passing to and fro of persons and vehicles -along a street. - -=tragˈe-dy= (trăjˈe᷵-dĭ), a fatal and mournful event; a play having a sad -ending. - -=trail= (trāl), track. - -=trail-rope= (trāl-rōp), a rope used to fasten a horse by. - -=trait= (trāt), peculiarity. - -=trance= (trȧns), insensible condition. - -=tran-quilˈli-ty= (trăn-kwĭlˈĭ-tĭ), calmness. - -=transˈat-lanˈtic= (trănsˈăt-lănˈtĭk), beyond the Atlantic Ocean. - -=tran-scendˈent= (trăn-sĕnˈdĕnt), surpassing, supreme. - -=trans-figˈure= (trăns-fĭgˈu᷵r), to change to something exalted and -glorious. - -=trans-gresˈsion= (trăns-grĕshˈŭn), sin. - -=tranˈsient= (trănˈshĕnt), not lasting. - -=transˌmu-taˈtion= (trănsˌmu᷵-tāˈshŭn), the changing from one form to -another. - -=trans-parˈent= (trăns-pârˈĕnt), clear. - -=transˈport= (trănsˈpōrt), carrying; excessive joy. - -=trans-portˈ= (trăns-pōrtˈ), to carry. - -=trapˈpers=, hunters who trap their prey. - -=trapˈpings= (trăpˈĭngz), ornamental coverings, housings. - -=travˈersed= (trăvˈẽrst), crossed. - -=trawlˈer= (trôlˈẽr), a vessel that fishes by dragging the nets. - -=treachˈer-y= (trĕchˈẽr-ĭ), falseness. - -=treaˈcle= (trēˈk’l), molasses. - -=treaˈtise= (trēˈtĭs), essay. - -=tree-nailˈ= (trē-nālˈ), a wooden pin for fastening the planks of a -vessel. - -=treˈmor= (trēˈmŏr; trĕmˈŏr), quivering; affected with fear or timidity. - -=tremˈu-lous= (trĕmˈu᷵-lŭs), trembling. - -=trenchˈant= (trĕnˈchănt), sharp. - -=tri-buˈnal= (trī-būˈnăl), court of justice. - -=tribˈu-ta-ry= (trĭbˈu᷵-ta᷵-rĭ), a stream flowing into a larger stream; a -country that pays tribute to another. - -=tribˈute= (trĭbˈūt), a personal contribution of any kind, as of praise -or service, in token of services rendered. - -=triˈcolor= (trīˈkŭl-ẽr), the French flag, blue, white, red. - -=triˈfling jest= (trīˈflĭng jĕst), a little joke. - -=trim= (trĭm), condition. - -=troopˈer= (tro̅o̅pˈẽr), a cavalryman. - -=troˈphy= (trōˈfĭ), anything kept as a memento of something gained, spoil. - -=trucˈu-lent= (trŭkˈu᷵-lĕnt), terrible, fierce. - -=trumpˈer-y= (trŭmˈpẽr-ĭ), goods. - -=trunˈcheon= (trŭnˈshŭn), a baton. - -=trussed= (trŭst), with wings fastened to the body. - -=trystˈing-place= (trĭstˈĭng-plās), place of meeting. - -=tucked= (tŭkt), made snug. - -=tu-mulˈtu-ous= (tū-mŭlˈtu᷵-ŭs), boisterous. - -=turˈban= (tûrˈbăn), Mohammedan soldiers; a headdress worn by Mohammedans. - -=turˈmoil= (tûrˈmoil), worrying confusion. - -=turˈret= (tŭrˈĕt), tower. - -=Tus-ca-roˈra= (tŭs-kȧ-rōˈră). - -=twoˈfold shout= (to̅o̅ˈfōld), double shout, shout and its echo. - -=ty-ranˈni-cal= (tī-rănˈĭ-kăl), despotic. - -=tyˈran-ny= (tĭˈrăn-ĭ), despotism. - -=u-biqˈui-ty= (u᷵-bĭkˈwĭ-tĭ), presence in more than one place at the same -time. - -=umˈpire= (ŭmˈpīr), judge. - -=unˌac-countˈa-ble= com-muˌni-caˈtion, strange intercourse or act of -talking to one another. - -=unˌac-countˈa-bly= (ŭnˌă-kounˈtȧ-blĭ), strangely, without reason. - -=unˌas-sumˈing= (ŭnˌă-sūmˈĭng), modest. - -=un-a-vailˈing= (ŭn-ȧ-vālˈĭng), unsuccessful. - -=unˌa-waresˈ= (ŭnˌȧ-wârzˈ), unexpectedly. - -=un-boundˈed= (ŭn-boundˈĕd), unlimited. - -=un-ceasˈing= (ŭn-sēsˈĭng), not stopping. - -=un-chidˈden= (ŭn-chĭdˈ’n), not blamed. - -=un-conˈquer-a-ble=, not to be overcome. - -=un-conˈscious= (ŭn-kŏnˈshŭs), unaware. - -=un-couthˈ= (un-ko̅o̅thˈ), strange, ugly. - -=un-dauntˈed= (ŭn-dänˈtĕd), bold, fearless. - -=unˌder-minedˈ= (ŭnˌdẽr-mīndˈ), weakened. - -=unˈder-takeˈ= (ŭnˈdẽr-tākˈ), promise. - -=unˌdis-turbedˈ=, without annoyance. - -=un-doubtˈed-ly= (ŭn-doutˈĕd-lĭ), without question. - -=unˌdu-laˈtion= (ŭnˌdu᷵-la᷵ˈshŭn), land or water with a wavy appearance. - -=un-feignedˈ= (ŭn-fāndˈ), sincere. - -=un-fetˈtered= (ŭn-fĕtˈẽrd), unchained. - -=un-foughtˈ vicˈto-ries won=, victories over poverty, lack of education, -etc. - -=un-furlˈ= (ŭn-fûrlˈ), to unfold, loosen. - -=un-geˈni-al= (ŭn-jēˈnĭ-ăl), not pleasant. - -=un-govˈern-a-ble= (ŭn-gŭvˈẽr-nȧ-b’l), wild. - -=un-harˈried= (ŭn-hărˈĭd), not annoyed. - -=uˈni-form= (ūˈnĭ-fôrm), unchanging. - -=un-in-telˈli-gi-ble= (ŭn-ĭn-tĕlˈĭ-jĭ-b’l), not capable of being -understood. - -=uˈni-son= (ūˈnĭ-sŭn), harmony. - -=uˌni-verˈsal curˈren-cy= (ūˌnĭ-vûrˈsăl kŭrˈĕn-sĭ), general acceptance. - -=uˌni-verˈsal-ly= (ūˌnĭ-vûrˈsăl-ĭ), entirely. - -=uˈni-verse= (ūˈnĭ-vûrs), world. - -=un-nervedˈ= (ŭn-nûrvedˈ), deprived of strength, or nerve. - -=un-ob-structˈed= (ŭn-ŏb-strŭkˈtĕd), clear. - -=unˌob-truˈsive= (ŭnˌŏb-tro̅o̅ˈsĭv), modest. - -=un-pleasˈing in-telˈli-gence=, bad news. - -=un-prinˈci-pled= (ŭn-prĭnˈsĭ-p’ld), without principles or morals. - -=unˌre-mitˈting= (ŭnˌre᷵-mĭtˈĭng), incessant, continual. - -=unˌre-servedˈ= (ŭnˌre᷵-zûrvdˈ), frank, open. - -=un-saˈvor-y= (ŭn-sāˈvẽr-ĭ), unpleasant to smell. - -=un-scathedˈ= (ŭn-skāthdˈ), unharmed. - -=un-staˈble= (ŭn-stāˈb’l), not fixed. - -=unˌsub-stanˈtial= (ŭnˌsŭb-stănˈshăl), flimsy. - -=un-sus-pectˈing= (ŭn-sŭs-pĕktˈĭng), trusting. - -=un-taintˈed= (ŭn-tāntˈĕd), pure. - -=un-waˈry= (ŭn-wāˈrĭ), careless. - -=un-weaˈry-ing= (ŭn-wēˈrĭ-ĭng), untiring. - -=un-wontˈed= (ŭn-wŭnˈtĕd), unusual, rare. - -=up-holˈster-er= (ŭp-hōlˈstẽr-ẽr), one who provides curtains, also -coverings for chairs. - -=upˈland= (ŭpˈlănd), high land. - -=urˈchin= (ûrˈchĭn), boy. - -=urˈgent= (ûrˈjĕnt), pressing. - -=Uˈri-ens= (ūˈrĭ-ĕnz). - -=uˌsur-paˈtion= (ūˌsûr-pāˈshŭn), the illegal seizure of power. - -=u-tenˈsil= (u᷵-tĕnˈsĭl), tool. - -=Uˈther Pen-dragˈon= (ūˈthẽr pĕn-drăgˈŭn). - -=u-tilˈi-ty= (u᷵-tĭlˈĭ-tĭ), usefulness. - -=utˈmost= (ŭtˈmōst), greatest. - -=utˈter-ance= (ŭtˈẽr-ăns), speech. - -=utˈter-ly= (utˈẽr-lĭ), totally. - -=vagˈa-bond= (văgˈȧ-bŏnd), a wanderer. - -=valˈor= (vălˈẽr), courage, bravery. - -=van= (văn), advance guard. - -=Van Dieˈmenˈs Land= (văn dēˈmĕn), the former name of Tasmania, an island -south of Australia. - -=Van Twilˈler, Wouˈter= (wo̅o̅ˈtẽr). - -=vaˈpor-ing= (vāˈpẽr-ĭng), idly talking. - -=vaˌri-aˈtion= (vāˌrĭ-āˈshŭn), differences. - -=vaˈried= (vāˈrĭd), diverse, different. - -=vaˈri-e-gatˌed= (vāˈrĭ-e᷵-gātˌĕd), having marks of different colors. - -=varˈlet= (värˈlĕt), a cowardly fellow. - -=vaˈry= (vāˈrĭ), to differ, to be unlike. - -=vasˈsal= (văsˈăl), a subject, servant. - -=vast con-gre-gaˈtion= (vȧst kŏn-grē-gāˈshŭn), a large gathering or group. - -=vauntˈing= (väntˈĭng), boasting. - -=Vavˈi-sour= (văvˈĭ-sōr). - -=veer= (vēr), to change direction, to turn. - -=vegˈe-tatˌing= (vĕjˈe᷵-tātˌĭng), living quietly and simply, like plants. - -=veˈhe-ment-ly= (vēˈhe᷵-mĕnt-lĭ), furiously. - -=veˈhi-cle= (vēˈhĭ-k’l), wagon, cart, car. - -=ve-locˈi-ty= (ve᷵-lŏsˈĭ-tĭ), speed. - -=venˈer-a-ble= (venˈẽr-ȧ-b’l), old, worthy of reverence. - -=vengeˈance= (vĕnˈjăns), punishment inflicted in return for an injury or -offense; violence, force. - -=venˈi-son= (vĕnˈĭ-z’n), flesh of deer. - -=venˈom-ous= (vĕnˈŭm-ŭs), poisonous. - -=venˈture= (vĕnˈtu᷵r), an undertaking of chance or danger; to dare. - -=ve-ranˈda= (ve᷵-rănˈdȧ), piazza, porch. - -=verˈdant= (vûrˈdănt), green. - -=ver-milˈion= (vẽr-mĭlˈyŭn), bright red paint. - -=verˈsion= (vûrˈshŭn), translation; change of form. - -=vesˈtige= (vĕsˈtĭj), trace. - -=vestˈments= (vĕstˈmĕnts), robes. - -=vi-cisˈsi-tude= (vĭ-sĭsˈĭ-tŭd), irregular change, comedown. - -=victˈual= (vĭtˈ’l), food. - -=victˈual-er= (vĭtˈ’l-ẽr), a provision ship. - -=vigˈil= (vĭjˈĭl), watch. - -=vigˈi-lance= (vĭjˈĭ-lăns), wakefulness. - -=vigˈi-lant= (vĭgˈĭ-lănt), watchful. - -=Viˈking= (vīˈkĭng), one belonging to the pirate crews of the Northmen -who plundered the coasts of Europe. - -=vinˈdi-cate= (vĭnˈdĭ-kāt), to defend. - -=viˈo-late= (vīˈō-lāt), to abuse, disturb. - -=virˈgin soil= (vûrˈjĭn), soil which has never been cultivated. - -=visˈage= (vĭzˈa᷵j), the face. - -=viˈsion-a-ry hours= (vĭzhˈŭn-a᷵-rĭ), fanciful hours, dreamy or unreal -hours. - -=viˈsion-a-ry projˈects= (vĭzhˈŭn-a᷵-rĭ prŏjˈĕktz), fanciful or dreamy -plans. - -=visˈta= (vĭsˈtȧ), a view. - -=vi-vaˈciou=s (vī-vāˈshŭs), lively, vigorous. - -=vo-caˈtion= (vō-kāˈshŭn), occupation. - -=vo-cifˈer-ous= (vō-sĭfˈẽr-ŭs), noisy. - -=volˈleys= (vŏlˈĭz), discharge. - -=volˈun-ta-ry= (vŏlˈŭn-ta᷵-rĭ), done of one’s own free will. - -=volˌun-teeredˈ= (vŏlˌŭn-tērdˈ), offered. - -=vo-lupˈtu-ous= (vō-lŭpˈtu᷵-ŭs), luxurious, given to pleasure. - -=von Humˈboldt Alexander= (1769-1859), a German naturalist and statesman. - -=vo-raˈcious= (vō-rāˈshŭs), greedy. - -=vorˈti-ces= (vôrˈtĭ-sēz), whirlpools. - -=vouch-safeˈ= (vouch-sāfˈ), to guarantee as safe, assure. - -=vows were plightˈed= (plītˈĕd), pledges of love were given. - -=vulˈner-a-ble= (vŭlˈnẽr-ȧ-b’l), weak. - -=vulˈture= (vŭlˈtu᷵r), a flesh-eating bird. Here, applied to the danger -of icebergs. - -=Vurrgh= (vu᷵rg). - -=waft= (wȧft), to carry. - -=wake= (wāk), track. - -=wanes= (wānz), draws to a close. - -=Wamˌpa-noˈag= (wŏmˌpȧ-nōˈăg), an important Algonquian tribe. - -=wamˈpum= (wŏmˈpŭm), beads made of shells and used as Indian money. - -=wan’t=, dialect for was not. - -=wantˈing= (wôntˈĭng), lacking. - -=wanˈton= (wŏnˈtŭn), luxuriant. - -=wapˈi-ti= (wŏpˈĭ-tĭ), American stag or elk. - -=warˈder= (wôrˈdẽr), the keeper of the portcullis. - -=waˈri-ness born of fear= (wāˈrĭ-nĕs), caution due to fear. - -=warn’t=, dialect for were not. - -=warp= (wôrp), to turn; to freeze. - -=warˈrant= (wŏrˈănt), a commission or document giving authority to do -something; surety; to declare. - -=waˈry to a degree= (wāˈrĭ), very cautious. - -=wasˈsail-bout= (wŏsˈĭl-bout), drinking bout. - -=waˈter-wraith= (rāth), spirit of the water. - -=Wat-ta-waˈmat= (wät-tȧ-wäˈmȧt). - -=watˈtled= (wŏtˈ’ld), having wattles or fleshy growths like a turkey. - -=waxˈing= (wăksˈĭng), growing. - -=ways be fowl=, roads are bad. - -=ways of naˈtive-dom= (nāˈtĭv-dŏm), manners of the natives. - -=weal or woe= (wēl or wō), good or ill. - -=Wear= (wēr). - -=wear ship= (wâr), to turn the ship. - -=weary heart upfold=, depart with tired heart, or spirit. - -=weather-break= (wĕthˈẽr-brāk), an obstruction (rocks, trees, etc.) -which keeps out rain, snow, etc. - -=weigh their anˈchors=, raise the anchors. - -=welˈkin dome= (wĕlˈkĭn), dome of the sky. - -=well breathed=, well spoken. - -=well-con-diˈtioned= (kŏn-dĭshˈŭnd), in good health. - -= well ruled=, well controlled. - -=wereˈwolfˌ= (wērˈwo͡olfˌ), in old superstition, a human being turned -into a wolf. - -=Wetˈa-moe= (wĕtˈȧ-mō). - -=wheeled= (hwēld), turned. - -=whiˈlom= (hwīˈlŭm), once, formerly. - -=whimˈsi-cal= (hwĭmˈzĭ-kăl), fanciful. - -=whit= (hwĭt), bit. - -=whole= (hōl), well. - -=wholeˈsome law of the praiˈrie=, sound or practical rule or custom used -by travelers on the prairie. - -=wideˈly sepˈa-ratˈed in-di-vidˈu-als=, greatly different people. - -=wide waste of liquid ebony= (lĭkˈwĭd ĕbˈŭn-ĭ), wild black water. - -=widˈowˈs son.= Luke VII, 11-17. - -=wight= (wīt), person. - -=wild little Poet=, untamed little songbird. - -=wince= (wĭns), to shrink, as from a blow. - -=windˈlass= (wĭndˈlȧs), a machine for hoisting. - -=wind the mellow horn=, blow the full-toned horn. - -=windˈward= (wĭndˈwẽrd), the side from which the wind blows. - -=witchˈer-y= (wĭchˈẽr-ĭ), witchcraft. - -=with an inˈspi-raˌtion= (ĭnˈspĭ-rāˌshŭn), with a new idea. - -=withe= (wĭth), a flexible, slender twig. - -=with unwilling feet=, unwillingly. - -=witˈting-ly= (wĭtˈĭng-lĭ), knowingly. - -=wont= (wŭnt; wōnt), habit. - -=woodˈcraftˌ= (wo͡odˈkrȧftˌ), skill and practice in anything pertaining -to the woods. - -=woof= (wo̅o̅f), the threads that cross the warp in a woven fabric. - -=Worcesˈter= (wo͡osˈtẽr), a city in England. - -=world throngs on beneath=, people crowd or press on below. - -=worming his way= (wûrmˈĭng), working his way slowly. - -=wormˈwood= (wûrmˈwo͡od), common weed. - -=worˈsted= (wo͡osˈtĕd; wo͡orˈstĕd), fine and soft woollen yarn. - -=wound= (wo̅o̅nd), injury. - -=wrestˈling= (rĕsˈlĭng), a hand-to-hand combat between two persons. - -=wroth= (rôth), angry. - -=Wyˈan-dot= (wīˈăn-dŏt), Indian pony. - -=yacht= (yŏt), small pleasure boat. - -=yard= (yärd), mast or spar of wood or steel to hold the sail. - -=yeoˈman-ry= (yōˈmăn-rĭ), the common people. - -=Ypres= (ēpr). - -=zeal= (zēl), eagerness. - -=zealˈous= (zĕlˈŭs), enthusiastic, ardent. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Junior High School Literature, Book 1, by -William H. 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