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book_for_reading/book_text/pg104.txt

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+
+
+          Inaugural Address of Franklin Delano Roosevelt
+                    Given in Washington, D.C.
+                          March 4th, 1933
+
+
+President Hoover, Mr. Chief Justice, my friends:
+
+
+This is a day of national consecration, and I am certain that on this
+day my fellow Americans expect that on my induction into the Presidency
+I will address them with a candor and a decision which the present
+situation of our people impels. This is preeminently the time to speak
+the truth, the whole truth, frankly and boldly. Nor need we shrink from
+honestly facing conditions in our country today. This great Nation will
+endure as it has endured, will revive and will prosper. So, first of
+all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear
+is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which
+paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance. In every dark
+hour of our national life a leadership of frankness and of vigor has
+met with that understanding and support of the people themselves which
+is essential to victory. And I am convinced that you will again give
+that support to leadership in these critical days.
+
+In such a spirit on my part and on yours we face our common
+difficulties. They concern, thank God, only material things. Values
+have shrunk to fantastic levels; taxes have risen; our ability to pay
+has fallen; government of all kinds is faced by serious curtailment of
+income; the means of exchange are frozen in the currents of trade; the
+withered leaves of industrial enterprise lie on every side; farmers
+find no markets for their produce; and the savings of many years in
+thousands of families are gone.
+
+More important, a host of unemployed citizens face the grim problem of
+existence, and an equally great number toil with little return. Only a
+foolish optimist can deny the dark realities of the moment.
+
+And yet our distress comes from no failure of substance. We are
+stricken by no plague of locusts. Compared with the perils which our
+forefathers conquered because they believed and were not afraid, we
+have still much to be thankful for. Nature still offers her bounty and
+human efforts have multiplied it. Plenty is at our doorstep, but a
+generous use of it languishes in the very sight of the supply.
+Primarily this is because the rulers of the exchange of mankind’s goods
+have failed, through their own stubbornness and their own incompetence,
+have admitted their failure and have abdicated. Practices of the
+unscrupulous money changers stand indicted in the court of public
+opinion, rejected by the hearts and minds of men.
+
+True they have tried, but their efforts have been cast in the pattern
+of an outworn tradition. Faced by failure of credit they have proposed
+only the lending of more money. Stripped of the lure of profit by which
+to induce our people to follow their false leadership, they have
+resorted to exhortations, pleading tearfully for restored confidence.
+They only know the rules of a generation of self-seekers. They have no
+vision, and when there is no vision the people perish.
+
+Yes, the money changers have fled from their high seats in the temple
+of our civilization. We may now restore that temple to the ancient
+truths. The measure of that restoration lies in the extent to which we
+apply social values more noble than mere monetary profit.
+
+Happiness lies not in the mere possession of money; it lies in the joy
+of achievement, in the thrill of creative effort. The joy, the moral
+stimulation of work no longer must be forgotten in the mad chase of
+evanescent profits. These dark days, my friends, will be worth all they
+cost us if they teach us that our true destiny is not to be ministered
+unto but to minister to ourselves—to our fellow men.
+
+Recognition of that falsity of material wealth as the standard of
+success goes hand in hand with the abandonment of the false belief that
+public office and high political position are to be valued only by the
+standards of pride of place and personal profit; and there must be an
+end to a conduct in banking and in business which too often has given
+to a sacred trust the likeness of callous and selfish wrongdoing. Small
+wonder that confidence languishes, for it thrives only on honesty, on
+honor, on the sacredness of obligations, on faithful protection, and on
+unselfish performance; without them it cannot live.
+
+Restoration calls, however, not for changes in ethics alone. This
+Nation is asking for action, and action now.
+
+Our greatest primary task is to put people to work. This is no
+unsolvable problem if we face it wisely and courageously. It can be
+accomplished in part by direct recruiting by the Government itself,
+treating the task as we would treat the emergency of a war, but at the
+same time, through this employment, accomplishing greatly needed
+projects to stimulate and reorganize the use of our great natural
+resources.
+
+Hand in hand with that we must frankly recognize the overbalance of
+population in our industrial centers and, by engaging on a national
+scale in a redistribution, endeavor to provide a better use of the land
+for those best fitted for the land. Yes, the task can be helped by
+definite efforts to raise the values of agricultural products and with
+this the power to purchase the output of our cities. It can be helped
+by preventing realistically the tragedy of the growing loss through
+foreclosure of our small homes and our farms. It can be helped by
+insistence that the Federal, the State, and the local governments act
+forthwith on the demand that their cost be drastically reduced. It can
+be helped by the unifying of relief activities which today are often
+scattered, uneconomical, unequal. It can be helped by national planning
+for and supervision of all forms of transportation and of
+communications and other utilities that have a definitely public
+character. There are many ways in which it can be helped, but it can
+never be helped by merely talking about it. We must act; we must act
+quickly.
+
+And finally, in our progress towards a resumption of work we require
+two safeguards against a return of the evils of the old order; there
+must be a strict supervision of all banking and credits and
+investments; there must be an end to speculation with other people’s
+money, and there must be provision for an adequate but sound currency.
+
+These, my friends, are the lines of attack. I shall presently urge
+upon a new Congress, in special session, detailed measures for their
+fulfillment, and I shall seek the immediate assistance of the
+forty-eight States.
+
+Through this program of action we address ourselves to putting our own
+national house in order and making income balance outgo. Our
+international trade relations, though vastly important, are in point of
+time and necessity secondary to the establishment of a sound national
+economy. I favor as a practical policy the putting of first things
+first. I shall spare no effort to restore world trade by international
+economic readjustment, but the emergency at home cannot wait on that
+accomplishment.
+
+The basic thought that guides these specific means of national
+recovery is not narrowly nationalistic. It is the insistence, as a
+first consideration, upon the interdependence of the various elements
+in and parts of the United States of America—a recognition of the old
+and permanently important manifestation of the American spirit of the
+pioneer. It is the way to recovery. It is the immediate way. It is the
+strongest assurance that recovery will endure.
+
+In the field of world policy I would dedicate this Nation to the
+policy of the good neighbor—the neighbor who resolutely respects
+himself and, because he does so, respects the rights of others—the
+neighbor who respects his obligations and respects the sanctity of his
+agreements in and with a world of neighbors.
+
+If I read the temper of our people correctly, we now realize as we
+have never realized before our interdependence on each other; that we
+cannot merely take but we must give as well; that if we are to go
+forward, we must move as a trained and loyal army willing to sacrifice
+for the good of a common discipline, because without such discipline no
+progress can be made, no leadership becomes effective. We are, I know,
+ready and willing to submit our lives and our property to such
+discipline, because it makes possible a leadership which aims at the
+larger good. This I propose to offer, pledging that the larger purposes
+will bind upon us—bind upon us all—as a sacred obligation with a
+unity of duty hitherto evoked only in times of armed strife.
+
+With this pledge taken, I assume unhesitatingly the leadership of this
+great army of our people dedicated to a disciplined attack upon our
+common problems.
+
+Action in this image—action to this end—is feasible under the form
+of government which we have inherited from our ancestors. Our
+Constitution is so simple, so practical that it is possible always to
+meet extraordinary needs by changes in emphasis and arrangement without
+loss of essential form. That is why our constitutional system has
+proved itself the most superbly enduring political mechanism the modern
+world has ever seen. It has met every stress of vast expansion of
+territory, of foreign wars, of bitter internal strife, of world
+relations.
+
+And it is to be hoped that the normal balance of executive and
+legislative authority may be wholly equal—wholly adequate—to meet the
+unprecedented task before us. But it may be that an unprecedented
+demand and need for undelayed action may call for temporary departure
+from that normal balance of public procedure.
+
+I am prepared under my constitutional duty to recommend the measures
+that a stricken nation in the midst of a stricken world may require.
+These measures, or such other measures as the Congress may build out of
+its experience and wisdom, I shall seek, within my constitutional
+authority, to bring to speedy adoption.
+
+But in the event that the Congress shall fail to take one of these two
+courses, in the event that the national emergency is still critical, I
+shall not evade the clear course of duty that will then confront me. I
+shall ask the Congress for the one remaining instrument to meet the
+crisis—broad Executive power to wage a war against the emergency, as
+great as the power that would be given to me if we were in fact invaded
+by a foreign foe.
+
+For the trust reposed in me I will return the courage and the devotion
+that befit the time. I can do no less.
+
+We face the arduous days that lie before us in the warm courage of
+national unity; with the clear consciousness of seeking old and
+precious moral values; with the clean satisfaction that comes from the
+stern performance of duty by old and young alike. We aim at the
+assurance of a rounded—a permanent—national life.
+
+We do not distrust the future of essential democracy. The people of
+the United States have not failed. In their need they have registered a
+mandate that they want direct, vigorous action. They have asked for
+discipline and direction under leadership. They have made me the
+present instrument of their wishes. In the spirit of the gift I take it.
+
+In this dedication of a Nation we humbly ask the blessing of God. May
+He protect each and every one of us. May He guide me in the days to
+come.
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg10510.txt

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+
+
+The following 1600 words comprise William Jefferson Clinton's
+Inaugural Presidential Address given from noon to 12:15 P.M.,
+January 20, 1993.
+
+[Capitals represent emphasis, extra commas represent pauses,
+long pauses are represented by ellipses (. . .).]
+
+
+
+Bill Clinton's Inaugural Address
+
+
+My fellow citizens, today we celebrate the mystery of American renewal.
+This ceremony is held in the depth of winter, but by the words we speak
+and the faces we show the world, we force the spring.  A spring reborn in
+the world's oldest democracy, that brings forth the vision and courage
+to reinvent America.  When our founders boldly declared America's
+independence to the world, and our purposes to the Almighty, they knew
+that America, to endure, would have to change.  Not change for change
+sake, but change to preserve America's ideals:  life, liberty, the
+pursuit of happiness.
+
+Though we march to the music of our time, our mission is timeless.
+Each generation of American's must define what it means to be an American.
+On behalf of our nation, I salute my predecessor, President Bush, for his
+half-century of service to America . . . and I thank the millions of men
+and women whose steadfastness and sacrifice triumphed over depression,
+fascism and communism.
+
+Today, a generation raised in the shadows of the Cold War assumes new
+responsibilities in a world warmed by the sunshine of freedom, but
+threatened still by ancient hatreds and new plagues.  Raised in
+unrivalled prosperity, we inherit an economy that is still the world's
+strongest, but is weakened by business failures, stagnant wages,
+increasing inequality, and deep divisions among OUR OWN people.
+
+When George Washington first took the oath I have just sworn to uphold,
+news travelled slowly across the land by horseback, and across the ocean
+by boat.  Now the sights and sounds of this ceremony are broadcast
+instantaneously to billions around the world.  Communications and
+commerce are global.  Investment is mobile.  Technology is almost magical,
+and ambition for a better life is now universal.
+
+We earn our livelihood in America today in peaceful competition with
+people all across the Earth.  Profound and powerful forces are shaking
+and remaking our world, and the URGENT question of our time is whether
+we can make change our friend and not our enemy.  This new world has
+already enriched the lives of MILLIONS of Americans who are able to
+compete and win in it.  But when most people are working harder for less,
+when others cannot work at all, when the cost of health care devastates
+families and threatens to bankrupt our enterprises, great and small;
+when the fear of crime robs law abiding citizens of their freedom; and
+when millions of poor children cannot even imagine the lives we are
+calling them to lead, we have not made change our friend.
+
+We know we have to face hard truths and take strong steps,
+but we have not done so.  Instead we have drifted, and that
+drifting has eroded our resources, fractured our economy,
+and shaken our confidence.  Though our challenges are fearsome,
+so are our strengths.  Americans have ever been a restless, questing,
+hopeful people, and we must bring to our task today the vision
+and will of those who came before us.  From our Revolution to the
+Civil War, to the Great Depression, to the Civil Rights movement,
+our people have always mustered the determination to construct from
+these crises the pillars of our history.  Thomas Jefferson believed
+that to preserve the very foundations of our nation we would need
+dramatic change from time to time.  Well, my fellow Americans,
+this is OUR time.  Let us embrace it.
+
+Our democracy must be not only the envy of the world but the engine of
+our OWN renewal.  There is nothing WRONG with America that cannot be
+cured by what is RIGHT with America.
+
+And so today we pledge an end to the era of deadlock and drift, and a
+new season of American renewal has begun.
+
+To renew America we must be bold.  We must do what no generation has had
+to do before.  We must invest more in our own people, in their jobs, and
+in their future, and at the same time cut our massive debt. . .and we
+must do so in a world in which we must compete for every opportunity.
+It will not be easy.  It will require sacrifice, but it can be done, and
+done fairly.  Not choosing sacrifice for its own sake, but for OUR own
+sake.  We must provide for our nation the way a family provides for its
+children.  Our founders saw themselves in the light of posterity.  We
+can do no less.  Anyone who has ever watched a child's eyes wander into
+sleep knows what posterity is.  Posterity is the world to come, the world
+for whom we hold our ideals, from whom we have borrowed our planet, and
+to whom we bear sacred responsibilities.  We must do what America does
+best, offer more opportunity TO all and demand more responsibility FROM
+all.
+
+It is time to break the bad habit of expecting something for nothing:
+from our government, or from each other.  Let us all take more
+responsibility, not only for ourselves and our families, but for our
+communities and our country.  To renew America we must revitalize
+our democracy.  This beautiful capitol, like every capitol since
+the dawn of civilization, is often a place of intrigue and calculation.
+Powerful people maneuver for position and worry endlessly about who is
+IN and who is OUT, who is UP and who is DOWN, forgetting those people
+whose toil and sweat sends us here and paves our way.
+
+Americans deserve better, and in this city today there are people
+who want to do better, and so I say to all of you here, let us resolve
+to reform our politics, so that power and privilege no longer shout down
+the voice of the people.  Let us put aside personal advantage, so that we
+can feel the pain and see the promise of America.  Let us resolve to make
+our government a place for what Franklin Roosevelt called "bold,
+persistent experimentation, a government for our tomorrows, not our
+yesterdays."  Let us give this capitol back to the people to whom it
+belongs.
+
+To renew America we must meet challenges abroad, as well as at home.
+There is no longer a clear division between what is foreign and what is
+domestic.  The world economy, the world environment, the world AIDS
+crisis, the world arms race: they affect us all.  Today as an old order
+passes, the new world is more free, but less stable.  Communism's
+collapse has called forth old animosities, and new dangers.  Clearly,
+America must continue to lead the world we did so much to make.  While
+America rebuilds at home, we will not shrink from the challenges nor
+fail to seize the opportunities of this new world.  Together with our
+friends and allies, we will work together to shape change, lest it
+engulf us.  When our vital interests are challenged, or the will and
+conscience of the international community is defied, we will act; with
+peaceful diplomacy whenever possible, with force when necessary.  The
+brave Americans serving our nation today in the Persian Gulf, in Somalia,
+and wherever else they stand, are testament to our resolve, but our
+greatest strength is the power of our ideas, which are still new in many
+lands.  Across the world, we see them embraced and we rejoice.  Our hopes,
+our hearts, our hands, are with those on every continent, who are building
+democracy and freedom.  Their cause is America's cause.  The American
+people have summoned the change we celebrate today.  You have raised your
+voices in an unmistakable chorus, you have cast your votes in historic
+numbers, you have changed the face of congress, the presidency, and the
+political process itself.  Yes, YOU, my fellow Americans, have forced the
+spring.  Now WE must do the work the season demands.  To that work I now
+turn with ALL the authority of my office.  I ask the congress to join
+with me; but no president, no congress, no government can undertake THIS
+mission alone.
+
+My fellow Americans, you, too, must play your part in our renewal.
+I challenge a new generation of YOUNG Americans to a season of service,
+to act on your idealism, by helping troubled children, keeping company
+with those in need, reconnecting our torn communities.  There is so much
+to be done.  Enough, indeed, for millions of others who are still young
+in spirit, to give of themselves in service, too.  In serving we recognize
+a simple, but powerful, truth:  we need each other, and we must care for
+one another.  Today we do more than celebrate America, we rededicate
+ourselves to the very idea of America, an idea born in revolution,
+and renewed through two centuries of challenge, an idea tempered by
+the knowledge that but for fate, we, the fortunate and the unfortunate,
+might have been each other; an idea ennobled by the faith that our nation
+can summon from its myriad diversity, the deepest measure of unity;
+an idea infused with the conviction that America's journey long, heroic
+journey must go forever upward.
+
+And so, my fellow Americans, as we stand at the edge of the 21st Century,
+let us begin anew, with energy and hope, with faith and discipline, and
+let us work until our work is done.  The Scripture says: "And let us not
+be weary in well-doing, for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not."
+From this joyful mountaintop of celebration we hear a call to service in
+the valley.  We have heard the trumpets, we have changed the guard, and
+now each in our own way, and with God's help, we must answer the call.
+
+Thank you, and God bless you all.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg10618.txt

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+
+
+"JESUS SAYS SO."
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+BOSTON:
+
+MASS. SABBATH SCHOOL SOCIETY,
+Depository, No. 13 Cornhill.
+
+1851.
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Frontispiece.]
+
+
+
+
+"JESUS SAYS SO."
+
+OR,
+
+A MEMORIAL OF LITTLE
+SARAH G----
+
+FROM THE LONDON EDITION.
+
+_Approved by the Committee of Publication_.
+
+BOSTON:
+
+MASS. SABBATH SCHOOL SOCIETY,
+Depository, No. 13 Cornhill.
+1851.
+
+
+
+
+"JESUS SAYS SO."
+
+
+Sarah G---- was one of several children, living with their parents in a
+narrow lane in London. Early in the year 1847, Sarah's father had met
+with a serious accident, and was then in the hospital, where he remained
+for many weeks a severe sufferer. Sarah and her brothers, deprived of
+the usual means of support, and their mother being in constant
+attendance on her husband, were consequently often left in great
+necessity. More than once have these little ones been known to reach the
+hour of four or five in the afternoon, before taking any food; but
+amidst all their privations, no complaint was heard from the lips of
+Sarah. It was not known until after her death, how silently, yet how
+powerfully, the Spirit of God was, even at this time, working in her
+heart.
+
+There was nothing particularly attractive in her appearance; quiet and
+unobtrusive, she seemed to the outward observer like most other
+children; but "the Lord seeth not as man seeth." The Great Shepherd of
+the sheep had his eye on this little lamb of the fold, and marked her
+for his own. At home she was gentle and affectionate, obedient to her
+parents, and during their absence she watched kindly over her little
+brothers.
+
+Her poor family tasted largely of the cup of sorrow, but poverty and
+distress, instead of producing impatience and unkindness, seemed to bind
+each one more closely to the other. They experienced the truth of those
+words: "Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and
+hatred therewith," Prov. 15:17. "Better is a dry morsel, and quietness
+therewith, than a house full of sacrifices with strife," Prov. 17:1.
+
+The death of her youngest brother appeared to make a strong impression
+on Sarah's mind; she said she liked to think she had a brother in
+heaven. Soon after that event, she was admitted into a Sabbath school,
+and it was her delight in the week to prepare her lessons. "Sunday is
+such a happy day," she would say; and on that morning she would rise
+earlier than usual to get ready for school.
+
+A little circumstance, which occurred at this time, marked her
+tenderness of conscience. A new bonnet had been promised to her, but not
+arriving at the time she had hoped, her disappointment was so great that
+she shed many tears. This was mentioned to a friend, who talked to her
+about it. Sarah made no remark at the time, but afterwards she said to
+her mother, "I did not know before that it was wrong to cry when we were
+disappointed; I will try not to do so again:" and in the evening her
+father overheard her begging God to forgive her pride and fretting about
+the bonnet.
+
+Another feature in Sarah's character may be here noticed: this was her
+love of truth. "She has never deceived me," was her mother's frequent
+remark. "I cannot remember a single instance of untruth, _even in
+play_," and perhaps this truthfulness of spirit enabled her the more
+readily to trust the word of another. "She promised me," Sarah would
+say, and on the promise she would ever rest, in all the sweet dependence
+of a child. Surely this may speak a word to those professing to be the
+followers of Him who keepeth his promise for ever--the covenant-keeping
+God. How lightly are promises often made! how carelessly and
+thoughtlessly broken!
+
+Sarah was only permitted to attend the Sabbath school for a few weeks.
+Her health and strength failed, and soon she was confined to her room,
+then to her bed, which she scarcely left for several months. But now the
+work of God within her became more evident. It was a pleasant service to
+sit by the bed of this young disciple, and read and talk with her of a
+Saviour's love. She said but little, except in answer to questions, but
+her bright and happy countenance showed how welcome was the subject. Who
+that witnessed her simple, child-like faith, would not acknowledge the
+fruit of the Spirit's teaching? It was the more apparent, as she had but
+little help from man, and few outward advantages, not even being able to
+read; but she treasured up in her mind all she heard, and it was as food
+to her soul, the joy and rejoicing of her heart.
+
+At an early period of her illness, a violent attack of pain and
+palpitation of the heart made her think she was dying, and she told her
+mother so, adding, "But I am not afraid, I am so happy." "What makes you
+so happy?" was asked. "Because I am going to heaven, and when I pray to
+Jesus, my heart seems lifted up." "But, Sarah, do you think your sins
+forgiven?" "Yes, mother, I am sure so." "What makes you so sure?"
+"Because _Jesus says so_."
+
+"Jesus says,"--this was ever the ground of her confidence, and proved to
+all around her the Saviour's oft-repeated lesson,--"Whosoever shall not
+receive the kingdom of God as a little child, shall in no wise enter
+therein."
+
+Sarah lingered many weeks after this. Her mind was full of peace; as she
+lay on her sick bed, no shade of fear passed over her, all was sunshine
+within. This one happy thought filled her mind,--"Jesus loves me, I am
+going to heaven."
+
+A friend wishing to find out on what her hopes of happiness rested, and
+if she had a real sense of sin, said to her, "You talk much of going to
+heaven, tell me, do you deserve to go there?" "Oh, no," was her reply,
+"I do not deserve it." "Why not?" In a solemn tone, she answered,
+"Because I have sinned." It was remarked, "How then can you go there?
+Heaven is such a holy place, no sin can enter there." With the brightest
+smile she quietly replied, "Ah! but Jesus says he will wash away all my
+sin, and make my soul quite white, and he will carry me there."
+
+Oh that all would learn of her thus to take Jesus at his word! What an
+enemy to peace is an unbelieving heart!
+
+None spoke ill of this little girl, even those who knew her least
+remarked, "she was a good pleasant child," but her grateful affection
+beamed strongly towards all who showed her any kindness, and one who
+watched her with interest throughout her illness, will not soon forget
+the earnest smile of welcome with which she was always greeted, when too
+ill to speak. Thus she told her thanks.
+
+Once, the 103d Psalm was read to her, with some remarks on David's
+causes of thankfulness. It was remarked, "You, too, Sarah, have many
+things to bless God for; for what do you thank him most?" She answered,
+"Oh, I thank him most for sending Jesus from heaven to save me."
+
+Many were the words of comfort she spoke to her poor sorrowing mother,
+whose heart at times seemed almost broken at the prospect of losing her.
+She said, "You will not cry, when I am in heaven, dear mother. I am only
+going a little while first, and you will soon follow;" and once, on an
+occasion of deep family distress, she pointed to the surest way for
+relief, saying, "Mother, why do you cry so? Does not the Bible say God
+cares for the sparrows, and are not you better than a sparrow? O mother,
+pray, do pray, and then you will be so happy."
+
+So calmly, so peacefully, did this young disciple enter the dark valley,
+that truly she might have said,
+
+  "There's nothing terrible in death
+   To those who go to heaven."
+
+Resting in her Saviour's love she feared no evil, his rod and his staff
+they comforted her; sin was her only dread. Her only fear was that of
+offending her heavenly Father, and on this point she often did express
+much anxiety, saying, "Do tell me if I have done wrong. I do not want to
+sin; I am so afraid of making God angry. Sometimes my sins look so
+black, and seem to come between me and God." Then, as if she still felt
+secure in the only hiding-place for sinners, she added, "But Jesus says
+he will take them all away, and wash me whiter than snow."
+
+She delighted much in some little books suited to her age and
+circumstances that were read to her; one entitled, "The Infant's
+Prayer," and another, "The White Robes," were her greatest favorites. In
+allusion to the last of these, she often prayed, "O Lord Jesus, hear a
+poor little girl, do give me that beautiful white dress, without one
+spot or one stain;" and once when her mother noticed a little hurt on
+her arm occasioned by her putting on a change of dress, she sweetly
+said, "Never mind that, dear mother; my next dress will not hurt me."
+
+It was very pleasant to see the affection manifested by her brothers
+towards their little sick sister, and she repaid their kindness by
+anxiously entreating them to care for their souls. To her father she
+said, "I want you to promise me one thing--to meet me in heaven. O
+father! do love Jesus. I love him, indeed I do; but I want you to love
+him too. There is only one Jesus, one Saviour; and, father, he is so
+holy." Then turning to her mother, who was standing by her bed, she
+added, "You do love Jesus, but, O mother, pray do love him more, and
+more, and more;" she spoke with such energy, as if to impress her
+parents with her own feeling, as almost startled them.
+
+In this state of mind Sarah drew near the end of her pilgrimage, and it
+was not until about three days before her death that even the shadow of
+a cloud seemed to darken her path. Then, for the first time, her mind
+was agitated with doubts as to her Saviour's love for her, and very
+distressing to those around her were her anxious cries for pardon.
+"Father, forgive me, for Jesus Christ's sake," was her constant
+petition. She was visited by a minister and by several Christian
+friends, who used every effort to give her relief, but for some time all
+in vain; she seemed unable to lay hold on any promise for her comfort.
+One of these friends especially felt a deep interest in the dear child,
+though she had not known her until now. Of her little Sarah asked most
+earnestly, "Do you think that Jesus loves me?" She was assured that he
+did. "Do you know he loves me?" she asked; and then followed the solemn
+inquiry, "How do you know it?" After reading and talking with her for
+some time, she begged her friend would "pray with her to make her a
+little happy?" and afterwards in her own words, she would again plead
+with God, "Father, forgive me, for Jesus Christ's sake, and wash me in
+his blood, and make me a good girl, and take me to heaven." On one
+occasion she said, "I wish I could be a little happy,--I want something,
+I do not know what I want." She was answered, "I think I can tell you
+what you want, it is peace, it is to feel that God has pardoned all your
+sins." "Yes," she replied, "I think that is it."
+
+At another time, when talking of the joys of heaven, "Yes," she said,
+"they are singing, Glory, glory, glory," referring to her favorite hymn,
+beginning,
+
+  "Around the throne of God in heaven,
+   Thousands of children stand."
+
+
+But, as her friend says, it is not possible to convey her manner, her
+sweet tone and look. She said, "I wish I could go to heaven now, up
+through this ceiling, now while I feel a little happy." "But, my dear
+child, you cannot go to heaven in this way. You must die first; Jesus
+died; we must all die; it is God's appointed way for us to get to
+heaven." "Oh! I do not mind my sufferings, but I wish I was there now."
+
+Once she spoke rather impatiently, "I wish I could die, I wish I could
+die." She was reminded, "Jesus says, 'If you love me, keep my
+commandments;' and though you cannot obey God's will now in the same way
+as if in health, you can still suffer all he appoints." She quickly
+asked, "Will Jesus be angry if I am not patient? I will try, then, and
+pray to him to make me patient."
+
+Satan for a short season seemed permitted to make trial of her faith and
+love, and she struggled hard against his attacks. But the dear little
+one was safe in the arms of her Good Shepherd, and none could pluck her
+out of his hand. Her anxious prayers were heard and answered, and peace
+was restored to her soul. Her brightened countenance required not the
+addition of words to assure her friends of this, and yet they rejoiced
+to hear her say, "I am quite happy; I know Jesus loves me, and I shall
+soon see him."
+
+On the Sabbath, her last day on earth, she was very feeble, only able to
+utter a single word at a time, but her heart was full of thankfulness
+towards all who had cared for her, and especially to those who had
+sought to comfort her in her last distress, begging her mother would
+"always love them."
+
+At night, as her parents were watching beside her, she suddenly raised
+herself, and, throwing her arms alternately round the neck of each,
+seemed to take a last farewell. She was unable to speak, but to her
+mother's inquiry, "Tell me once again, my child, are you quite happy?"
+she replied by lifting up her hand, and pointing to heaven, while the
+brightest smile lighted up her countenance. This was her last act of
+consciousness. She lingered a few hours without any apparent suffering,
+and then her happy spirit took its flight, and joined the blissful
+company, that, having washed their robes and made them white in the
+blood of the Lamb, are ever before the throne of God, rejoicing in their
+Saviour's love.
+
+Sarah died at the age of eleven years, in August, 1848.
+
+Dear reader, before you close this book, ask, "Am I like Sarah G----?
+Have I ever prayed to Jesus to wash away all my sins, and make my soul
+quite white in his precious blood?" And then have you begged him to take
+you to heaven when you die, that you may be happy with him for ever? If
+not, do not wait another day, but entreat him now to give you his Holy
+Spirit to teach you to love him. Remember, it is this kind Saviour who
+calls you, who says, "Suffer the little children to come to me, and
+forbid them not;" and who promises to gather the lambs with his arm, and
+to carry them in his bosom.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg1063.txt

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+
+
+The Cask of Amontillado
+
+
+by
+
+Edgar Allan Poe
+
+
+
+The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but
+when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge.  You, who so well know
+the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that I gave utterance
+to a threat.  _At length_ I would be avenged; this was a point definitely
+settled--but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved,
+precluded the idea of risk.  I must not only punish, but punish with
+impunity.  A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its
+redresser.  It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make
+himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong.
+
+It must be understood that neither by word nor deed had I given
+Fortunato cause to doubt my good will.  I continued, as was my wont, to
+smile in his face, and he did not perceive that my smile _now_ was at
+the thought of his immolation.
+
+He had a weak point--this Fortunato--although in other regards he was a
+man to be respected and even feared.  He prided himself on his
+connoisseurship in wine.  Few Italians have the true virtuoso spirit.
+For the most part their enthusiasm is adopted to suit the time and
+opportunity--to practise imposture upon the British and Austrian
+_millionaires_.  In painting and gemmary, Fortunato, like his countrymen,
+was a quack--but in the matter of old wines he was sincere.  In this
+respect I did not differ from him materially: I was skillful in the
+Italian vintages myself, and bought largely whenever I could.
+
+It was about dusk, one evening during the supreme madness of the
+carnival season, that I encountered my friend.  He accosted me with
+excessive warmth, for he had been drinking much.  The man wore motley.
+He had on a tight-fitting parti-striped dress, and his head was
+surmounted by the conical cap and bells.  I was so pleased to see him,
+that I thought I should never have done wringing his hand.
+
+I said to him--"My dear Fortunato, you are luckily met.  How remarkably
+well you are looking to-day!  But I have received a pipe of what passes
+for Amontillado, and I have my doubts."
+
+"How?" said he.  "Amontillado?  A pipe?  Impossible!  And in the middle
+of the carnival!"
+
+"I have my doubts," I replied; "and I was silly enough to pay the full
+Amontillado price without consulting you in the matter. You were not to
+be found, and I was fearful of losing a bargain."
+
+"Amontillado!"
+
+"I have my doubts."
+
+"Amontillado!"
+
+"And I must satisfy them."
+
+"Amontillado!"
+
+"As you are engaged, I am on my way to Luchesi.  If any one has a
+critical turn, it is he.  He will tell me--"
+
+"Luchesi cannot tell Amontillado from Sherry."
+
+"And yet some fools will have it that his taste is a match for your
+own."
+
+"Come, let us go."
+
+"Whither?"
+
+"To your vaults."
+
+"My friend, no; I will not impose upon your good nature.  I perceive
+you have an engagement.  Luchesi--"
+
+"I have no engagement;--come."
+
+"My friend, no.  It is not the engagement, but the severe cold with
+which I perceive you are afflicted.  The vaults are insufferably damp.
+They are encrusted with nitre."
+
+"Let us go, nevertheless.  The cold is merely nothing. Amontillado!
+You have been imposed upon.  And as for Luchesi, he cannot distinguish
+Sherry from Amontillado."
+
+Thus speaking, Fortunato possessed himself of my arm. Putting on a mask
+of black silk, and drawing a _roquelaire_ closely about my person, I
+suffered him to hurry me to my palazzo.
+
+There were no attendants at home; they had absconded to make merry in
+honour of the time.  I had told them that I should not return until the
+morning, and had given them explicit orders not to stir from the house.
+These orders were sufficient, I well knew, to insure their immediate
+disappearance, one and all, as soon as my back was turned.
+
+I took from their sconces two flambeaux, and giving one to Fortunato,
+bowed him through several suites of rooms to the archway that led into
+the vaults.  I passed down a long and winding staircase, requesting him
+to be cautious as he followed. We came at length to the foot of the
+descent, and stood together on the damp ground of the catacombs of the
+Montresors.
+
+The gait of my friend was unsteady, and the bells upon his cap jingled
+as he strode.
+
+"The pipe," said he.
+
+"It is farther on," said I; "but observe the white web-work which
+gleams from these cavern walls."
+
+He turned towards me, and looked into my eyes with two filmy orbs that
+distilled the rheum of intoxication.
+
+"Nitre?" he asked, at length.
+
+"Nitre," I replied.  "How long have you had that cough?"
+
+"Ugh! ugh! ugh!--ugh! ugh! ugh!--ugh! ugh! ugh!--ugh! ugh! ugh!--ugh!
+ugh! ugh!"
+
+My poor friend found it impossible to reply for many minutes.
+
+"It is nothing," he said, at last.
+
+"Come," I said, with decision, "we will go back; your health is
+precious.  You are rich, respected, admired, beloved; you are happy, as
+once I was.  You are a man to be missed.  For me it is no matter.  We
+will go back; you will be ill, and I cannot be responsible.  Besides,
+there is Luchesi--"
+
+"Enough," he said; "the cough is a mere nothing; it will not kill me.
+I shall not die of a cough."
+
+"True--true," I replied; "and, indeed, I had no intention of alarming
+you unnecessarily--but you should use all proper caution. A draught of
+this Medoc will defend us from the damps."
+
+Here I knocked off the neck of a bottle which I drew from a long row of
+its fellows that lay upon the mould.
+
+"Drink," I said, presenting him the wine.
+
+He raised it to his lips with a leer.  He paused and nodded to me
+familiarly, while his bells jingled.
+
+"I drink," he said, "to the buried that repose around us."
+
+"And I to your long life."
+
+He again took my arm, and we proceeded.
+
+"These vaults," he said, "are extensive."
+
+"The Montresors," I replied, "were a great and numerous family."
+
+"I forget your arms."
+
+"A huge human foot d'or, in a field azure; the foot crushes a serpent
+rampant whose fangs are imbedded in the heel."
+
+"And the motto?"
+
+"_Nemo me impune lacessit_."
+
+"Good!" he said.
+
+The wine sparkled in his eyes and the bells jingled.  My own fancy grew
+warm with the Medoc.  We had passed through walls of piled bones, with
+casks and puncheons intermingling, into the inmost recesses of
+catacombs.  I paused again, and this time I made bold to seize
+Fortunato by an arm above the elbow.
+
+"The nitre!" I said; "see, it increases.  It hangs like moss upon the
+vaults.  We are below the river's bed.  The drops of moisture trickle
+among the bones.  Come, we will go back ere it is too late.  Your
+cough--"
+
+"It is nothing," he said; "let us go on.  But first, another draught of
+the Medoc."
+
+I broke and reached him a flagon of De Grave.  He emptied it at a
+breath.  His eyes flashed with a fierce light.  He laughed and threw
+the bottle upwards with a gesticulation I did not understand.
+
+I looked at him in surprise.  He repeated the movement--a grotesque one.
+
+"You do not comprehend?" he said.
+
+"Not I," I replied.
+
+"Then you are not of the brotherhood."
+
+"How?"
+
+"You are not of the masons."
+
+"Yes, yes," I said; "yes, yes."
+
+"You?  Impossible!  A mason?"
+
+"A mason," I replied.
+
+"A sign," he said, "a sign."
+
+"It is this," I answered, producing a trowel from beneath the folds of
+my _roquelaire_.
+
+"You jest," he exclaimed, recoiling a few paces.  "But let us proceed
+to the Amontillado."
+
+"Be it so," I said, replacing the tool beneath the cloak and again
+offering him my arm.  He leaned upon it heavily.  We continued our
+route in search of the Amontillado.  We passed through a range of low
+arches, descended, passed on, and descending again, arrived at a deep
+crypt, in which the foulness of the air caused our flambeaux rather to
+glow than flame.
+
+At the most remote end of the crypt there appeared another less
+spacious.  Its walls had been lined with human remains, piled to the
+vault overhead, in the fashion of the great catacombs of Paris.  Three
+sides of this interior crypt were still ornamented in this manner.
+From the fourth side the bones had been thrown down, and lay
+promiscuously upon the earth, forming at one point a mound of some
+size.  Within the wall thus exposed by the displacing of the bones, we
+perceived a still interior recess, in depth about four feet in width
+three, in height six or seven.  It seemed to have been constructed for
+no especial use within itself, but formed merely the interval between
+two of the colossal supports of the roof of the catacombs, and was
+backed by one of their circumscribing walls of solid granite.
+
+It was in vain that Fortunato, uplifting his dull torch, endeavoured to
+pry into the depth of the recess.  Its termination the feeble light did
+not enable us to see.
+
+"Proceed," I said; "herein is the Amontillado.  As for Luchesi--"
+
+"He is an ignoramus," interrupted my friend, as he stepped unsteadily
+forward, while I followed immediately at his heels.  In an instant he
+had reached the extremity of the niche, and finding his progress
+arrested by the rock, stood stupidly bewildered.  A moment more and I
+had fettered him to the granite.  In its surface were two iron staples,
+distant from each other about two feet, horizontally.  From one of
+these depended a short chain, from the other a padlock.  Throwing the
+links about his waist, it was but the work of a few seconds to secure
+it.  He was too much astounded to resist.  Withdrawing the key I
+stepped back from the recess.
+
+"Pass your hand," I said, "over the wall; you cannot help feeling the
+nitre.  Indeed, it is _very_ damp.  Once more let me _implore_ you to
+return.  No?  Then I must positively leave you.  But I must first
+render you all the little attentions in my power."
+
+"The Amontillado!" ejaculated my friend, not yet recovered from his
+astonishment.
+
+"True," I replied; "the Amontillado."
+
+As I said these words I busied myself among the pile of bones of which
+I have before spoken.  Throwing them aside, I soon uncovered a quantity
+of building stone and mortar.  With these materials and with the aid of
+my trowel, I began vigorously to wall up the entrance of the niche.
+
+I had scarcely laid the first tier of the masonry when I discovered
+that the intoxication of Fortunato had in a great measure worn off. The
+earliest indication I had of this was a low moaning cry from the depth
+of the recess.  It was _not_ the cry of a drunken man. There was then a
+long and obstinate silence.  I laid the second tier, and the third, and
+the fourth; and then I heard the furious vibrations of the chain.  The
+noise lasted for several minutes, during which, that I might hearken to
+it with the more satisfaction, I ceased my labours and sat down upon
+the bones. When at last the clanking subsided, I resumed the trowel,
+and finished without interruption the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh
+tier.  The wall was now nearly upon a level with my breast.  I again
+paused, and holding the flambeaux over the mason-work, threw a few
+feeble rays upon the figure within.
+
+A succession of loud and shrill screams, bursting suddenly from the
+throat of the chained form, seemed to thrust me violently back.  For a
+brief moment I hesitated--I trembled.  Unsheathing my rapier, I began
+to grope with it about the recess; but the thought of an instant
+reassured me.  I placed my hand upon the solid fabric of the catacombs,
+and felt satisfied.  I reapproached the wall; I replied to the yells of
+him who clamoured.  I re-echoed--I aided--I surpassed them in volume
+and in strength.  I did this, and the clamourer grew still.
+
+It was now midnight, and my task was drawing to a close.  I had
+completed the eighth, the ninth, and the tenth tier.  I had finished a
+portion of the last and the eleventh; there remained but a single stone
+to be fitted and plastered in.  I struggled with its weight; I placed
+it partially in its destined position.  But now there came from out the
+niche a low laugh that erected the hairs upon my head.  It was
+succeeded by a sad voice, which I had difficulty in recognizing as that
+of the noble Fortunato.  The voice said--
+
+"Ha! ha! ha!--he! he! he!--a very good joke indeed--an excellent jest.
+We shall have many a rich laugh about it at the palazzo--he! he!
+he!--over our wine--he! he! he!"
+
+"The Amontillado!" I said.
+
+"He! he! he!--he! he! he!--yes, the Amontillado.  But is it not getting
+late?  Will not they be awaiting us at the palazzo, the Lady Fortunato
+and the rest?  Let us be gone."
+
+"Yes," I said, "let us be gone."
+
+"_For the love of God, Montresor!_"
+
+"Yes," I said, "for the love of God!"
+
+But to these words I hearkened in vain for a reply.  I grew impatient.
+I called aloud--
+
+"Fortunato!"
+
+No answer.  I called again--
+
+"Fortunato--"
+
+No answer still.  I thrust a torch through the remaining aperture and
+let it fall within.  There came forth in reply only a jingling of the
+bells.  My heart grew sick on account of the dampness of the catacombs.
+I hastened to make an end of my labour.  I forced the last stone into
+its position; I plastered it up.  Against the new masonry I re-erected
+the old rampart of bones.  For the half of a century no mortal has
+disturbed them.  _In pace requiescat!_
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Cask of Amontillado, by Edgar Allan Poe
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg10630.txt

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+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Happy are thy men, happy are these thy servants, which stand continually
+before Thee and that hear Thy wisdom
+
+1 Kings X 8
+
+
+
+
+Coming to the King
+
+By
+
+Frances Ridley Havergal
+
+
+
+
+Coming to the King.
+
+
+
+I came from very far to see
+    The King of Salem, for I had been told
+Of glory and of wisdom manyfold,
+  And condescension infinite and free.
+Now could I rest, when I had heard his fame,
+  In that dark lonely land of death, from whence I came?
+
+I came (but not like Sheba's queen), alone!
+      No stately train, no costly gifts to bring;
+No friend at court, save One the King!
+    I had requests to spread before His throne,
+And I had questions none could solve for me,
+      Of import deep, and full of mystery.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+I came and communed with that mighty King
+      And told Him all my heart, I cannot say
+In mortal ear what communings were they
+  But wouldst thou know,
+    So too, and meekly bring
+All that is in thine heart and thou shalt hear
+  His voice of love and power
+          His answers sweet and clear
+
+O happy end of every weary guest!
+    He told me all I needed graciously:--
+  Enough for guidance, and for victory
+      O'er doubts and fears enough for quiet rest,
+    And when some veiled response
+       I could not read
+          It was not hid from Him, this was enough indeed
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+His wisdom and His glories passed before
+  My wondering eyes in gradual revelation
+The house that He had built its strong foundation
+  Its living stones and, brightening more and more
+For glimpses of that palace far away,
+    Where all his loyal ones
+        Shall dwell with Him for aye.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+True the report that reached my far-off land
+     Of all His wisdom and transcendent fame,
+  Yet I believed not until I came
+Bowed to the dust till raised by royal hand
+    The half was never told by mortal word,
+  My King exceeded all the fame that I had heard
+
+    Oh happy are His servants! happy they
+Who stand continually before His face,
+      Ready to do His will of wisest grace!
+  My King! is mine such blessedness to-day?
+      For I too hear Thy wisdom line by line,
+  Thy ever brightening words in holy radiance shine
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+          Oh, blessed be the Lord they God who sat
+    Our King upon His throne
+        Divine delight
+  In the Beloved crowning Thee with might
+    Honour and majesty supreme and yet
+  The strange and Godlike secret opening thus--
+The Kingship of His Christ ordained through love to us!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+  What shall I render to my glorious King?
+I have but that which I receive from Thee
+And what I give, Thou givest back to me,
+    Transmuted by Thy touch, each worthless thing
+  Changed to the preciousness of gem or gold,
+      And by thy blessing multiplied a thousand fold
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  All my desire Thou grantest whatsoer I ask!
+     Was ever mythic tale or dream so bold as this reality,
+  This stream of boundless blessings flowing full and free?
+Yet more than I have thought or asked of Thee
+    Out of Thy royal bounty still Thou givest me.
+
+Now--I will turn to my own land and tell,
+  What I myself have seen and heard of Thee,
+And give Thine own sweet message, "Come and see"
+  And yet in heart and mind for ever dwell
+With Thee, my King of Peace, in loyal rest,
+  Within the fair pavilion of Thy presence blest.
+
+
+J R HAVERGAL
+
+
+
+
+Our King
+
+
+
+O Saviour, precious Saviour,
+    Whom yet unseen we love,
+O Name of might and favour,
+      All other names above!
+We worship Thee, we bless Thee
+    To Thee alone we sing
+We praise Thee, and confess Thee
+      Our holy Lord and King
+
+In Thee all fulness dwelleth,
+      All grace and power divine,
+  The glory that excelleth,
+        O Son of God, is Thine!
+We worship Thee, we bless Thee
+     To Thee alone we sing,
+We praise Thee and confess Thee,
+      Our glorious Lord and King
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+Led in Peace.
+
+
+
+"_Ye shall go out with joy and
+    be led forth with peace._"
+                         Is. IV. 12.
+
+
+With joy thou shalt be girded,
+      With peace thou shalt be led;
+And everlasting glory shall rest upon thy head;
+    The hills break forth in singing;
+          the shadows flee away:
+  This is thy King and Saviour--
+        He will not say thee "Nay!"
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+His Presence
+
+
+
+        Oh Saviour if Thy presence here
+      Can such bright joy impart
+        What must it be in that sweet home
+    Where Thou its glory art
+  Here through faith's vision small and fine
+One glimpse of Thy dear face
+    Kindles a glow in lonely hearts,
+  No cloud can e'er efface.
+
+Cecilia Havergal
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+Springs of Peace
+
+
+
+Springs of peace, when conflict heightens
+  Thine uplifted eye shall see,
+
+  Peace that strengthens calms, and brightens,
+Peace itself a victory.
+
+Springs of comfort strangely springing
+      Through the bitter wells of woe,
+  Founts of hidden gladness, bringing
+    Joy that earth can ne'er bestow
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: ]
+
+
+
+The Welcome to the King
+
+
+
+          Midst the darkness, storm, and sorrow
+    One bright gleam I see,
+Well I know the blessed morrow
+      Christ will come for me
+
+Midst the light and peace and glory
+      Of the Fathers home,
+  Christ for me is watching, waiting--
+      Waiting till I come
+
+Long the blessed Guide has led me
+      By the desert road;
+  Now I see the golden towers--
+    City of my God.
+
+    There amidst the love and glory,
+He is waiting yet;
+      On His hands a name is graven,
+  He can ne'er forget.
+
+There amidst the songs of heaven--
+    Sweeter to His ear
+  Is the footfall through the desert,
+      Ever drawing near.
+
+    There, made ready are the mansions,
+Glorious, bright and fair;
+      But the Bride the Father gave Him
+  Still is wanting there.
+
+Who is this who comes to meet me
+    On the desert way,
+  As the Morning Star foretelling
+      God's unclouded day?
+
+He it is who came to win me,
+      On the cross of shame
+  In His glory well I know Him,
+    Evermore the same
+
+    Oh! the blessed joy of meeting,
+All the desert past!
+      Oh! the wondrous words of greeting
+  He shall speak at last!
+
+He and I together entering
+      Those bright courts above,
+  He and I together sharing
+    All the Fathers love.
+
+    Where no shade nor stain can enter
+Nor the gold be dim,
+      In that holiness unsullied
+  I shall walk with Him
+
+Meet companion then for Jesus,
+      From Him, for Him made,
+  Glory of Gods grace for ever
+    There in me displayed
+
+[Illustration]
+
+    He who in His hour of sorrow
+Bore the curse alone,
+      I who through the lonely desert
+  Trod where He had gone
+
+He and I in that bright glory
+      One deep joy shall share
+  Mine to be for ever with Him
+    His that I am there
+
+
+
+
+The King of Love.
+
+
+
+The King of Love my Shepherd is
+          Whose goodness faileth never,
+    I nothing lack if I am His
+       And He is mine for ever.
+
+Where streams of living waters flow,
+          My ransomed soul He leadeth,
+    And where the verdant pastures grow
+       With food celestial feedeth
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+[Illustration: ]
+
+
+
+
+God is Love and God is Light
+
+
+  God is Love, His mercy brightens
+    All the path in which we rove,
+Bliss He forms, and woe He lightens,
+      God is Light and God is Love
+
+  Chance and change are busy ever,
+      Worlds decay and ages move,
+But His mercy waneth never
+    God is Light and God is Love.
+
+
+
+
+Thine eyes shall see the King
+
+
+
+Thine eyes shall see! Yes, thine, who, blind erewhile,
+    Now trembling towards the new-found light dost flee,
+Leave doubting, and look up with trustful smile.
+        Thine eyes shall see!
+
+Thine eyes shall see the King! The very same
+    Whose love shone forth upon the curseful tree,
+Who bore thy guilt, who calleth thee by name
+          Thine eyes shall see!
+
+Thine eyes shall see the King, the Mighty One,
+    The many crowned, the light-enrobed, and He
+Shall bid thee share the kingdom He hath won
+        Thine eyes shall see!
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+I am Thine.
+
+
+
+    Jesus Master!
+I am Thine,
+    Keep me faithful keep me near,
+Let Thy presence in me shine
+    All my homeward way to cheer,
+Jesus! at Thy feet I fall,
+    Oh, be Thou my all in all
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Is it for Me?
+
+
+
+        Is it for me, dear
+    Saviour Thy Glory and Thy rest?
+For me, so weak and sinful oh, shall
+    I thus be blessed?
+Is it for me to see Thee in all Thy glorious grace
+    And gaze in endless rapture on Thy beloved face?
+
+  Behold Thee in Thy beauty, behold Thee face to face,
+      Behold Thee in Thy glory and reap Thy smile of grace
+    And be with Thee for ever, and never grieve Thee more!
+Dear Saviour I must praise Thee and lovingly adore.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+Going to Christ
+
+
+
+  I go to Christ my Saviour
+With every little need
+The help He always gives me
+  Is wonderful indeed
+
+  I go when I am mourning
+The loss of loved ones near
+    He speaketh words of comfort sweet,
+  He doth my spirit cheer
+
+I go when I am fearing
+  The cruse of oil will fail
+He sendeth me the needful means
+  And thus doth prayer prevent
+
+
+Cecilia Havergal
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+My King and Master.
+
+
+
+      Christ my King, my Master, let my whole life be,
+Spent in blessed service only until Thee
+    Let me serve Thee gladly, That the world may know
+  'Tis a happy privilege, Thee to serve below.
+
+Let me serve Thee humbly,
+        Thine be all the praise,
+  'Tis Thy love alone which tunes my feeble lays;
+Let me serve Thee quickly--Time will soon be o'er
+  I would fain lead many to heaven's peaceful shore.
+
+Let me serve Thee ever,  from morning until eve,
+  My earliest and my latest breath, my King, Thou shall receive.
+And oh when service here is spent, and Heaven is won
+    Grant that I too, dear Master, may hear Thy sweet "Well done!"
+
+Cevilia Havergal
+
+
+
+
+Under His Shadow
+
+
+
+"Under His shadow," with Christ alone
+    Here, love He whispers in tenderest tone,
+  Treasures unfolding, riches of grace
+      Thus for life's battle my soul doth He brace.
+
+"Under His shadow," a near page of life.
+    Opens before me, apart from the strife
+Oh! will Thou show me Master and King
+    How I may glory unto Thee bring!
+
+"Under His shadow" may life be passed
+    Daily and hourly on till the last,
+  Then no more shadows, all shall have fled
+When we awake like Jesus our Head.
+
+M A Spiller
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+I sat down under His shadow with great delight.
+
+Cant. II G
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Coming to the King, by Frances Ridley Havergal
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg1064.txt

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+
+
+The Masque of the Red Death
+
+by Edgar Allan Poe
+
+
+The “Red Death” had long devastated the country. No pestilence had
+ever been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its seal—the
+redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness,
+and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with dissolution. The scarlet stains
+upon the body and especially upon the face of the victim, were the pest ban
+which shut him out from the aid and from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And
+the whole seizure, progress and termination of the disease, were the incidents
+of half an hour.
+
+But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his
+dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his presence a thousand hale
+and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his court, and
+with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his castellated abbeys. This
+was an extensive and magnificent structure, the creation of the prince’s
+own eccentric yet august taste. A strong and lofty wall girdled it in. This
+wall had gates of iron. The courtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and
+massy hammers and welded the bolts. They resolved to leave means neither of
+ingress nor egress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within.
+The abbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might bid
+defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of itself. In the
+meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The prince had provided all the
+appliances of pleasure. There were buffoons, there were improvisatori, there
+were ballet-dancers, there were musicians, there was Beauty, there was wine.
+All these and security were within. Without was the “Red Death”.
+
+It was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion, and
+while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince Prospero
+entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most unusual
+magnificence.
+
+It was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of the rooms
+in which it was held. These were seven—an imperial suite. In many
+palaces, however, such suites form a long and straight vista, while the folding
+doors slide back nearly to the walls on either hand, so that the view of the
+whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here the case was very different, as might
+have been expected from the duke’s love of the _bizarre_. The
+apartments were so irregularly disposed that the vision embraced but little
+more than one at a time. There was a sharp turn at every twenty or thirty
+yards, and at each turn a novel effect. To the right and left, in the middle of
+each wall, a tall and narrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor
+which pursued the windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass
+whose colour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations of
+the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was hung, for
+example in blue—and vividly blue were its windows. The second chamber was
+purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the panes were purple. The
+third was green throughout, and so were the casements. The fourth was furnished
+and lighted with orange—the fifth with white—the sixth with violet.
+The seventh apartment was closely shrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung
+all over the ceiling and down the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet
+of the same material and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the
+windows failed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were
+scarlet—a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments was
+there any lamp or candelabrum, amid the profusion of golden ornaments that lay
+scattered to and fro or depended from the roof. There was no light of any kind
+emanating from lamp or candle within the suite of chambers. But in the
+corridors that followed the suite, there stood, opposite to each window, a
+heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of fire, that projected its rays through the
+tinted glass and so glaringly illumined the room. And thus were produced a
+multitude of gaudy and fantastic appearances. But in the western or black
+chamber the effect of the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings
+through the blood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so
+wild a look upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of
+the company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.
+
+It was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western wall, a
+gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a dull, heavy,
+monotonous clang; and when the minute-hand made the circuit of the face, and
+the hour was to be stricken, there came from the brazen lungs of the clock a
+sound which was clear and loud and deep and exceedingly musical, but of so
+peculiar a note and emphasis that, at each lapse of an hour, the musicians of
+the orchestra were constrained to pause, momentarily, in their performance, to
+harken to the sound; and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions;
+and there was a brief disconcert of the whole gay company; and, while the
+chimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew pale, and
+the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows as if in confused
+reverie or meditation. But when the echoes had fully ceased, a light laughter
+at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians looked at each other and smiled as
+if at their own nervousness and folly, and made whispering vows, each to the
+other, that the next chiming of the clock should produce in them no similar
+emotion; and then, after the lapse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three
+thousand and six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet
+another chiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and
+tremulousness and meditation as before.
+
+But, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The tastes
+of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and effects. He
+disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans were bold and fiery,
+and his conceptions glowed with barbaric lustre. There are some who would have
+thought him mad. His followers felt that he was not. It was necessary to hear
+and see and touch him to be _sure_ that he was not.
+
+He had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven
+chambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding
+taste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were
+grotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy and
+phantasm—much of what has been since seen in “Hernani”. There
+were arabesque figures with unsuited limbs and appointments. There were
+delirious fancies such as the madman fashions. There were much of the
+beautiful, much of the wanton, much of the _bizarre_, something of the
+terrible, and not a little of that which might have excited disgust. To and fro
+in the seven chambers there stalked, in fact, a multitude of dreams. And
+these—the dreams—writhed in and about taking hue from the rooms,
+and causing the wild music of the orchestra to seem as the echo of their steps.
+And, anon, there strikes the ebony clock which stands in the hall of the
+velvet. And then, for a moment, all is still, and all is silent save the voice
+of the clock. The dreams are stiff-frozen as they stand. But the echoes of the
+chime die away—they have endured but an instant—and a light,
+half-subdued laughter floats after them as they depart. And now again the music
+swells, and the dreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever,
+taking hue from the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the
+tripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven, there are
+now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning away; and there
+flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes; and the blackness of
+the sable drapery appals; and to him whose foot falls upon the sable carpet,
+there comes from the near clock of ebony a muffled peal more solemnly emphatic
+than any which reaches _their_ ears who indulged in the more remote
+gaieties of the other apartments.
+
+But these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat feverishly
+the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until at length there
+commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And then the music ceased,
+as I have told; and the evolutions of the waltzers were quieted; and there was
+an uneasy cessation of all things as before. But now there were twelve strokes
+to be sounded by the bell of the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, that
+more of thought crept, with more of time, into the meditations of the
+thoughtful among those who revelled. And thus too, it happened, perhaps, that
+before the last echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there
+were many individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to become aware of the
+presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no single
+individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having spread itself
+whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole company a buzz, or
+murmur, expressive of disapprobation and surprise—then, finally, of
+terror, of horror, and of disgust.
+
+In an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be supposed
+that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation. In truth the
+masquerade licence of the night was nearly unlimited; but the figure in
+question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the bounds of even the
+prince’s indefinite decorum. There are chords in the hearts of the most
+reckless which cannot be touched without emotion. Even with the utterly lost,
+to whom life and death are equally jests, there are matters of which no jest
+can be made. The whole company, indeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the
+costume and bearing of the stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The
+figure was tall and gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of
+the grave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to resemble
+the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest scrutiny must have had
+difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all this might have been endured, if
+not approved, by the mad revellers around. But the mummer had gone so far as to
+assume the type of the Red Death. His vesture was dabbled in
+_blood_—and his broad brow, with all the features of the face, was
+besprinkled with the scarlet horror.
+
+When the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image (which, with
+a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain its role, stalked to
+and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be convulsed, in the first moment
+with a strong shudder either of terror or distaste; but, in the next, his brow
+reddened with rage.
+
+“Who dares,”—he demanded hoarsely of the courtiers who stood
+near him—“who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize
+him and unmask him—that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise,
+from the battlements!”
+
+It was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince Prospero as he
+uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven rooms loudly and clearly,
+for the prince was a bold and robust man, and the music had become hushed at
+the waving of his hand.
+
+It was in the blue room where stood the prince, with a group of pale courtiers
+by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight rushing movement of this
+group in the direction of the intruder, who at the moment was also near at
+hand, and now, with deliberate and stately step, made closer approach to the
+speaker. But from a certain nameless awe with which the mad assumptions of the
+mummer had inspired the whole party, there were found none who put forth hand
+to seize him; so that, unimpeded, he passed within a yard of the prince’s
+person; and, while the vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the
+centres of the rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with
+the same solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the first,
+through the blue chamber to the purple—through the purple to the
+green—through the green to the orange—through this again to the
+white—and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been made
+to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Prospero, maddening with
+rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice, rushed hurriedly through the
+six chambers, while none followed him on account of a deadly terror that had
+seized upon all. He bore aloft a drawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid
+impetuosity, to within three or four feet of the retreating figure, when the
+latter, having attained the extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly
+and confronted his pursuer. There was a sharp cry—and the dagger dropped
+gleaming upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell
+prostrate in death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of
+despair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the black
+apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect and
+motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in unutterable horror
+at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask, which they handled with so
+violent a rudeness, untenanted by any tangible form.
+
+And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a
+thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed
+halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall. And
+the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the
+flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held
+illimitable dominion over all.
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg1065.txt

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+
+
+The Raven
+
+
+by
+
+Edgar Allan Poe
+
+
+  Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
+  Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
+  While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
+  As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
+  “’Tis some visiter,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
+                                     Only this and nothing more.”
+
+  Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
+  And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
+  Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
+  From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
+  For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
+                                     Nameless here for evermore.
+
+  And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
+  Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
+  So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
+  “’Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door—
+  Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door;
+                                     This it is and nothing more.”
+
+  Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
+  “Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
+  But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
+  And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
+  That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door—
+                                     Darkness there and nothing more.
+
+  Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
+  Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
+  But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
+  And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
+  This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
+                                     Merely this and nothing more.
+
+  Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
+  Soon again I heard a tapping something louder than before.
+  “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
+  Let me see, then, what thereat is and this mystery explore—
+  Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
+                                     ’Tis the wind and nothing more.”
+
+  Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
+  In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore.
+  Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he,
+  But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
+  Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
+                                     Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
+
+  Then the ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
+  By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
+  “Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
+  Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
+  Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
+                                     Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
+
+  Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
+  Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
+  For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
+  Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—
+  Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
+                                     With such name as “Nevermore.”
+
+  But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
+  That one word, as if its soul in that one word he did outpour
+  Nothing farther then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered—
+  Till I scarcely more than muttered: “Other friends have flown before—
+  On the morrow _he_ will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
+                                     Then the bird said “Nevermore.”
+
+  Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
+  “Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store,
+  Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
+  Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
+  Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
+                                     Of ‘Never—nevermore.’”
+
+  But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
+  Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
+  Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
+  Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
+  What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
+                                     Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
+
+  This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
+  To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
+  This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
+  On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
+  But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er
+                                     _She_ shall press, ah, nevermore!
+
+  Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
+  Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
+  “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
+  Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
+  Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
+                                     Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
+
+  “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
+  Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
+  Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
+  On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
+  Is there—_is_ there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”
+                                     Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
+
+  “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
+  By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
+  Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
+  It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
+  Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
+                                     Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
+
+  “Be that our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
+  “Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
+  Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul has spoken!
+  Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
+  Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
+                                     Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
+
+  And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
+  On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
+  And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming
+  And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadows on the floor;
+  And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
+                                     Shall be lifted—nevermore!
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg10779.txt

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+
+
+[Illustration: Front Cover]
+
+
+
+
+
+HAPPY LITTLE EDWARD,
+
+AND HIS PLEASANT
+
+RIDE AND RAMBLES
+
+IN THE COUNTRY.
+
+
+
+
+1850.
+
+
+
+
+HAPPY
+
+LITTLE EDWARD,
+
+AND HIS PLEASANT,
+
+RIDE AND RAMBLES
+
+IN THE COUNTRY.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Come, little children, wake from sleep,
+  And into the country take a peep;
+  Happy Edward leads the way,
+  So haste to the country, haste away!
+
+
+
+
+1850.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Edward and Aunt Mary.]
+
+
+
+
+HAPPY LITTLE EDWARD.
+
+
+Edward Jones was about four years old. He was a good, and of course a
+happy little boy, and he lived in a beautiful city in Connecticut, with
+his kind parents, and his brothers and sisters, and a dear good aunt,
+who took care of him.
+
+Edward's mother had a sister living in Massachusetts, who was the wife
+of a farmer, and one beautiful Spring morning, Mr. and Mrs. Jones
+determined to pay her a visit, and to take Edward with them.
+
+The little fellow was much pleased to hear this, you may be sure; and
+when the carriage drove up to the door, he could hardly wait for aunt
+Mary to dress him, comb his hair, and get him ready for the journey.
+
+At first Edward's attention was taken up with the motion of the
+carriage, and the sight of the horses, as they rode swiftly on their
+journey; but after a while he began to notice the different objects
+which presented themselves, as the road led through the green woods, and
+on the banks of the broad river, or swept by the pretty villages which
+lay in their route.
+
+About noon they stopped at a retired and shady spot on the banks of the
+river, to give the horses time to get a little rest and refreshment.
+
+So Edward and his mother seated themselves on the green bank; and she
+let him take off his cap and dip his fingers in the clear bright stream,
+which she told him was running to swell the waters of the great ocean.
+It was a lovely day; the air was full of the sweet scent of the early
+flowers, and the grass was green and bright with the freshness of
+Spring.
+
+"What is that running up the tree, mother?" asked Edward; "see what
+bright _quick_ eyes it has, and a bushy tail;--there he goes,
+mother!"
+
+[Illustration: The Squirrel.]
+
+"That is a squirrel, my dear; a _brown_ squirrel. They are not all
+like this one. There are _black_ and _gray_ squirrels; and in
+some very cold countries, _white_ ones. But hark! my son; what
+sound is that?"
+
+Edward listened, and heard something like the sound of a little hammer
+against a tree. He ran into the wood, and there he saw a little bird
+knocking with its bill against the trunk of a tree, just as if it wanted
+some one to _open the door!_ Soon he saw it draw out of the bark of
+the tree, a little worm, which hung upon the end of its tongue as if it
+had been a hook! His mother told him this little bird, was called a
+woodpecker, and this was the way it took its food.
+
+Edward's father now put him in the carriage, and they proceeded on their
+journey. For the first few miles Edward could think of nothing but the
+squirrel, the bird, and the pleasant spot where he had been looking at
+them. Then he began to think of the friends he was going to see, and
+wondered what his cousins would say, and how they would look when they
+saw him.
+
+A short time before sunset, they stopped before a neat and pretty
+cottage, with a large yard before it; in which two rosy boys and a sweet
+little girl were playing together.
+
+"There, Edward," said his mother, "are your cousins, William, George,
+and Ann, all clapping their hands with joy at seeing us; and there is
+aunt Harriet just coming to the door with her baby in her arms."
+
+Oh, what a joyful time these little cousins had. Edward told all the
+wonders he had seen, and William and George told of many more that they
+would show him. George said he should ride on his little pony, and
+William promised to show him all his pet rabbits, while Ann insisted
+that he would be delighted to see her pretty chickens, and to go to her
+play-room, and see her dolls.
+
+Before dark, Edward's aunt called the children to supper, and they all
+sat down to the table, where Mrs. Wilson gave them some nice new bread,
+and fresh butter, with some beautiful honey in the honey-comb, such as
+Edward had never seen before. He was quite hungry, as well as much
+fatigued with his day's ride, and as soon as he had finished his supper,
+he went into the parlor, and kissing his parents, he bade them and all
+his friends _good night_, and retired to rest. But before he got
+into bed, he knelt down and thanked GOD for taking care of him through
+the day, and prayed that He would protect and care for him through the
+night.
+
+The next morning the children were all up early, and Edward went out
+with his cousins to see William's rabbits. He was delighted with the
+beautiful little animals, and asked a great many questions about them,
+which William kindly answered. He admired them so much that he could
+hardly be persuaded to leave them, till Ann told him he would not be
+as obedient as the young rabbits were, if he did not go in at once,
+for her mother had twice called them to go in and get their breakfasts.
+
+Just as Edward had finished his breakfast, he looked out and saw a
+beautiful bird sitting on the branch of a young apple-tree, eating the
+tender buds, and singing most sweetly.
+
+[Illustration: The Bullfinch.]
+
+"There is that mischievous _bullfinch_ again," said Mr. Wilson; "if
+I do not drive him away, I shall never have an apple on that favorite
+young tree of mine." Then he took down his gun and went into the garden,
+followed by the children. But Mr. Wilson was a kind man and would not
+harm a living thing. So he pointed the gun away from the bird and fired.
+The loud report not only frightened the bird, but startled little Edward
+also, which made his cousins laugh heartily. The children all thought
+they had rather lose the apples than such a pretty bird, and were not
+quite satisfied with Mr. Wilson for sending him away. To divert their
+minds, he told them to put on their hats, and take a ramble in the
+fields with him, and perhaps he would walk with them up the high hill
+near his farm, if their little visitor thought his legs were strong
+enough to climb so high. Edward thought they were; so they set off,
+shouting and racing through the fields, while Mr. Wilson followed
+leisurely in the road.
+
+They found it rather hard work to climb the hill, which was very steep,
+but when they got to the top, they were well paid for all their trouble.
+They could see many pretty towns, with the beautiful river gliding along
+through them, and many high hills, like the one they were on, far away
+in the distance. Mr. Wilson pointed out and told them the names of the
+different villages which were in sight, and thus amused and instructed
+them till they were all well rested. Then they started down the hill,
+and except a few tumbles, reached the foot of it in safety.
+
+Mr. Wilson then led the way for a walk over his large farm. In one of
+the fields they stopped to see a flock of sheep. Among them were a great
+number of pretty white lambs, skipping and jumping about, kicking up
+their little legs, wagging their tails, and looking so innocent and
+happy, that Edward could not bear to leave them. But his cousins, who
+were accustomed to these things, were impatient to be gone, and Edward
+was soon scampering after them, from field to field;--first to see the
+men plowing, where George mounted one horse and William another, and
+rode before the plows for a few minutes; then, leaving Mr. Wilson there,
+they chased the butterflies, and picked the early flowers, as they
+ranged through other fields, until they came to a pleasant little piece
+of woods, where they stopped to look at the old hollow oak, in which all
+four could just crowd in. Here they stopped to rest a little, and to
+watch the labors of a a pretty bird building its nest on the branch of a
+neighboring tree.
+
+Then they wandered down in a meadow to get a drink of water from a fine
+spring near the foot of a huge old tree, and having refreshed
+themselves, turned their steps homewards. On their way, the cousins
+showed Edward a shining little brook of clear water, which ran murmuring
+through their farm, and pointed out a great many objects which were
+quite new to him. It was a pleasant and joyful ramble to them all; but
+Edward was well tired when they reached home.
+
+[Illustration: The Ferry.]
+
+The next day Edward and his parents started for home. He was sorry to
+leave his cousins, but he began to wish to see his brothers and sisters
+once more. It was a pleasant morning, and Mr. Jones decided to take a
+different route from the one they had traveled before. Edward was
+delighted with the fine scenery which this new route opened to his view.
+In the afternoon they came to the river side, where there was a ferry. A
+large boat was there, for the horses and carriage, and a small one in
+which Edward and his parents seated themselves and were soon rowed
+across; The sun had not yet set, but threw a bright yellow light on the
+water, that made it look like gold. Edward did not wonder that the geese
+and ducks were so fond of swimming about on it, and he felt sorry when
+they reached the opposite shore, and his pleasant sail was over. Then he
+and his mother sat down on the green bank to look at the beautiful sight
+before them, while the horses and carriages were coming across. There
+was the river all smooth and shining like gold, and beyond it were the
+high mountains, looking like purple clouds, and opposite, the sun was
+setting in all the rich splendor of a summer evening.
+
+Soon the carriage drove up, and they all got in and continued their
+journey. Edward saw nothing that pleased him so much as that river, and
+often wished that he could sail over it again in the little boat. But
+soon they drew near home, and then he began to think of the joyful
+meeting he should have with his brothers and aunt Mary.
+
+The first thing they saw as they came near the house, was Edward's dog,
+Romeo, who came running up to the carriage, barking, wagging his tail,
+and looking as much pleased as Edward was.
+
+I need not tell you how happy the children were, nor what they said the
+night Edward got home; nor how delighted he was in telling of all the
+sights he had seen. But I think he learned enough during this pleasant
+journey, to make him a somewhat wiser, if not a happier little boy.
+
+END.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: Back Cover]
+
+
+BABCOCK'S
+No. 3 TOY BOOKS,
+NEW SERIES,
+MORAL, INSTRUCTIVE, AND
+ENTERTAINING,
+
+ALL BEAUTIFULLY
+EMBELLISHED
+WITH
+SUPERIOR
+ENGRAVINGS.
+
+EDITED BY
+THOMAS TELLER.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+CHILDREN'S BOOKS
+OF
+EVERY DESCRIPTION
+
+CONSTANTLY PUBLISHING
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg10796.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,366 @@
+
+
+The
+
+STORY
+
+of the
+
+TWO BULLS
+
+
+WITH ORIGINAL ENGRAVINGS
+
+
+
+NEW YORK:
+Daniel Burgess & Co.
+
+1856
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY OF THE TWO BULLS.
+
+
+In former times, my story tells,
+  There lived one Deacon R.,
+And not the worst man in the world,
+  Nor best was he, by far.
+
+His fields were rich, his acres broad,
+  And cattle were his pride;
+Oxen and sheep, and horses, too,
+  And what you please, beside.
+
+His brindle cow, the highest prize
+  Won at the county fair,
+For taper limbs and rounded form,
+  And short and shining hair.
+
+Old Bonny Gray, a noble steed
+  Of sure, majestic pace,
+Before the deacon purchased him,
+  Was famous at a race.
+
+This story he would sometimes tell,
+  And at the end would say,
+"Alas! such sports are far from right;
+  But Bonny won the day!"
+
+Still, more than all, the spotted bull
+  Had filled the deacon's mind;
+His back so straight, his breast so broad,
+  So perfect of his kind.
+
+And when 'twas said that Moses Grimes,
+  A justice of the peace,
+Had got the likeliest bull in town,
+  The deacon had no ease.
+
+So off he rode to see the squire,
+  And put this question straight:
+"Say, don't you want another bull,
+  And don't yours want a mate?"
+
+The squire, perceiving at a glance
+  All that the man was after,
+"Just forty pounds will buy my bull,"
+  Quoth he, with ready laughter.
+
+And when the beast was brought to view,
+  And carefully surveyed,
+Of deepest red, its every point
+  Of excellence displayed.
+
+"I'll take him at your price," said he--
+  "Please drive him down to-morrow,
+And you shall have the money, sir,
+  If I the cash can borrow."
+
+So saying, turned he on his steed,
+  The nimble-footed Bonny;
+To-morrow came, and came the bull--
+  The deacon paid the money.
+
+The sun was hid behind the hills--
+  The next day would be Sunday;
+"You'll put him in the barn," said he,
+  "And leave him there till Monday."
+
+The deacon was a man of peace,
+  For so he claimed, albeit
+When there was war among the beasts,
+  He always liked to see it.
+
+"How will the bulls together look,
+  And which will prove the stronger?
+'Twere sin to wish the time to pass--
+  'Twould only make it longer."
+
+Such thoughts as these, on Sabbath morn,
+  Like birds of evil token,
+Flew round and round the deacon's mind--
+  Its holy peace was broken.
+
+Beyond the hills the steeple rose,
+  Distant a mile or two.
+Our deacon's house and barns and bulls
+  Were well concealed from view.
+
+"Be ready all, to meeting go;
+  Perhaps I may not come--
+A curious fluttering near my heart
+  Calls me to stay at home."
+
+As thus he spake, his careful wife
+  Replied with anxious tone,
+"I'll stay with you; 'twere dangerous
+  To leave you all alone."
+
+"No," answered he--"go, every one;
+  I've had the same before,
+And, with a little medicine,
+  No doubt 'twill soon be o'er.
+
+"Run, Peter, run for Bonny Gray,
+  Nor tarry till you find him;
+I've often heard his own or say
+  He'd carry all behind him."
+
+The carriage stands before the door;
+  They enter--one, two, three;
+The deacon says, "There's room for more--
+  Enough for Parson G."
+
+The parson was a portly man--
+  The deacon loved to joke;
+But afterwards, as it befell,
+  Was sorry that he spoke.
+
+They move to join the gathering throng
+  Within the house of prayer.
+Now ceased the bell its solemn peal--
+  The deacon was not there.
+
+Where was he, then? Perhaps you'll say
+  In easy chair reclining,
+The glimmer of his spectacles,
+  Upon his Bible shining.
+
+Ah, no! See you that earnest man,
+  With air so bold and free,
+Driving a spotted, warlike bull?--
+  That very man is he.
+
+Left to himself, the deacon grave
+  Tarried not long within,
+And, thinking of his sturdy beasts,
+  Forgot his medicine.
+
+"I hope the meeting will be full,
+  And I shall not be missed,"
+Softly he breathed, and, looking round,
+  He murmured, "All is whist!"
+
+Thus on he drove that spotted bull,
+  And near the gateway placed him,
+And when the other one came out,
+  It happened so, he faced him.
+
+"When Greek meets Greek," the deacon said,
+  "Then comes the tug of war;"
+But such another tug, I ween,
+  The deacon never saw.
+
+Like sudden thunderbolts they met,
+  The spotted and the red.
+Those bulls will never fight again--
+  The spotted one is dead.
+
+All gored and prostrate in his blood,
+  He lies upon the ground,
+While the unsated red one toward
+  The deacon made a bound.
+
+Down from the bars where he was perched.
+  Aghast, the good man sprung,
+And if you'd seen him go it, _then_,
+  You'd said that he was young.
+
+Still after him with fury
+  The bull did rush and roar,
+And was very near the deacon
+  When he reached the outer door.
+
+Through kitchen and through parlor fine,
+  Breathless, the poor man flew,
+And lo! the bull is at his heels
+  And in the parlor too.
+
+A flight of stairs is all that's left
+  Between him and despair;
+He springs to gain the top, and falls,
+  A sober deacon, there.
+
+But to his ears terrific sounds
+  Rise from the room below--
+Tables and glasses, chairs and all,
+  Crash, crash, together go!
+
+Upon the wall a mirror hung,
+  Of massive, gilded frame,
+Which had reflected many a squire
+  And many a worthy dame.
+
+There last, not least, the raging beast
+  Descried his form at length,
+And deemed it was another bull
+  Coming to try his strength.
+
+He plunged to meet his threatening foe,
+  But fought himself, alas!
+While all around in fragments flew
+  The shattered looking glass!
+
+"What will come next?" the deacon cries;
+  "This is too much for one day:
+My rifle's loaded, and I'll try
+  To stop this noise on Sunday."
+
+With trembling hand he seized the gun,
+  With wary step descended;
+He aimed, he fired, he killed the bull,
+  And thus the battle ended.
+
+To yonder house we turn again,
+  And to the quiet throng
+The preacher now has said, Amen!
+  Now ends the choral song.
+
+And friendly speech and courtesies
+  And shake of hands go round,
+And each inquires the other's health,
+  All as in duty bound.
+
+"How is your spouse?" the parson said;
+  "I see he's not at meeting."
+"This morning, sir," the wife replied,
+  "His heart was strangely beating.
+
+"I hope you'll call and see him soon"
+  "That I shall gladly do."
+"Ride down with us--the carriage waits;
+  There's room enough for you."
+
+All seated now, with solemn air,
+  And with a placid smile,
+Such words of truth the parson spoke
+  As might their fears beguile.
+
+Lo! they alight, the gate in sight--
+  "What's that?" the matron said.
+Says Peter, "It's the spotted bull,
+  And I believe he's dead."
+
+Thus all, amazed, a moment gazed,
+  And quickly turn about;
+In doleful plight, the deacon sighs,
+  "Murder will surely out!
+
+"Where shall I go? What shall I do?
+  I'm caught--I am a sinner!
+My wife, good soul--my wife has brought
+  The parson home to dinner!"
+
+And with a little spice of wit,
+  To which he was inclined,
+Though none to spare the deacon had,
+  He thus relieved his mind:
+
+"I've often heard the preacher say
+  That good may come of evil;
+Still every hour, with all our might,
+  We must resist the devil.
+
+"If horn and hoof be any proof,
+  And if the foot be riven,
+Surely I am the very man
+  That with the beast has striven!"
+
+Now hurried steps without are heard,
+  And earnest voices blend;
+"I'm in a vice," the deacon groans--
+  "When will this torture end?"
+
+Young Peter, being first within,
+  For he had run ahead,
+Loudly exclaims, "Another bull
+  Lies in the parlor, dead!"
+
+They enter all, with hands upraised
+  And faces filled with wonder--
+There stood confessed the deacon's case,
+  And all were struck with thunder.
+
+The tale flew quickly round, and woke
+  Much pity and more laughter;
+But not a word the deacon spoke
+  Of his two bulls thereafter.
+
+
+
+
+Listen! listen to my song,
+  There is meaning in it;
+You may know it sha'nt be long--
+  Only half a minute.
+
+Have you ever read the tale--
+  Have you heard the story--
+How two bulls together fought
+  On the field of glory?
+
+And how a famous hero
+  Thought it was so cunning,
+How he became a master
+  Of the art of running?
+
+And how he was so frightened,
+  In getting up the stairs;
+And how he heard the breaking
+  Of all his china-wares?
+
+And how his heart was swelling
+  Up like a pot of yeast;
+And how he took a rifle,
+  And fired it at the beast?
+
+And how the parish preacher
+  Had heard that he was sick,
+And losing not a moment,
+  Did come to see him quick?
+
+And how the rumor flourished,
+  'Mongst people young and old,
+And how they sighed, and how they laughed
+  To hear the story told?
+
+If you have read, remember
+  The moral of this book--
+Whoever takes the devil's bait,
+  Is sure to feel the hook.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Story of the Two Bulls, by John R. Bolles
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg10931.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,255 @@
+
+
+THE LULLABY
+
+WITH ORIGINAL ENGRAVINGS
+
+
+NEW LONDON:
+JOHN R. BOLLES
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+EVENING SONG.
+
+  Twilight dews are on the roses,
+    Little birds are in the nest,
+  On the green the lamb reposes--
+    Rest thee, little darling, rest.
+
+  While my babe is sweetly sleeping,
+    Silent stars are bright above,
+  And the angels' eyes are keeping
+    Over thee their watch of love.
+
+  Precious child! may that blest Saviour
+    Who for us a child was born,
+  Guard thee now and guard thee ever--
+    Keep thee safely, night and morn!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+THE ROBINS.
+
+  Two little robins made a nest--
+    'Twas in the warm spring weather;
+  They built it out of sticks and straws
+    And little bits of feather.
+
+  It was upon an apple bough,
+    With blossoms all around it;
+  So neatly wove and fitted in
+    That no one ever found it.
+
+  And there four little birds lay hid,
+    With nice green leaves to shield them,
+  And there they peeped and flapped about,
+    And well the old ones fed them.
+
+  And when the hawk comes hovering near,
+  The speckled hen gives a cry of fear,
+  And the little chickens, every one,
+  Up to her in a moment run,
+  Safely hide beneath her wings.
+  Oh! the nice old speckled hen,
+  With her pretty chickens ten.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+LULLABY.
+
+  There, lullaby, and I will sing to you
+    A little song about a yellow bird
+  That made a nest upon a currant bush,
+    And sung the sweetest that you ever heard,
+        Lullaby, lullaby!
+
+  There were two little birds that built the nest;
+    One sat and sung upon the garden wall,
+  The other, with her warm and downy breast,
+    Covered the eggs so beautiful and small.
+        Lullaby, lullaby!
+
+  One day some little birds came peeping out,
+    And then they opened wide their mouths for food;
+  The yellow birds flew down and skipped about,
+    And brought them something very nice and good.
+        Lullaby, lullaby!
+
+  And so they grew and grew, till puss, one day,
+    Tore down the pretty nest with sudden rush,
+  But Johnny saw, and took the birds away,
+    And placed them in the nest, back on the bush.
+        Lullaby, lullaby!
+The old ones found them safe, poor trembling things;
+    They smoothed and fed them, and that very day
+  They taught them how to spread their little wings,
+    And 'mong the garden trees to soar away.
+        Lullaby, lullaby?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+SNOW.
+
+  The snow, the snow is coming,
+    So graceful and light,
+  All over every thing,
+    Beautiful and white.
+
+  A thousand, thousand snow-flakes,
+    They're swimming in the air;
+  They fall upon the cherry-trees,
+    And hang like blossoms there.
+
+  They are coming, coming, coming,
+    As far as I can see;
+  They 'light, like little fairy birds,
+    Upon the old oak tree.
+
+  Each flake of snow is pretty--
+    A spangle or a gem;
+  But they melt away in dew-drops--
+    I can not treasure them.
+
+  They melt beneath the sunbeam,
+    They sink into the ground,
+  And where they vanish, by-and-by,
+    Sweet flowers will be found,
+
+  And I am told they moisten
+    And make the flowrets grow;
+  So, welcome, very welcome,
+    Are the gentle flakes of snow.
+
+  Poor lammie! what a pity
+    One little foot is hurt,
+  And the face that was so pretty
+    Is covered with the dirt!
+
+  But up, and never mind it;
+    A little brook is near--
+  Among the grass you'll find it--
+    The water's cool and clear.
+
+  I guess you will feel better--
+    Step in and take a drink;
+  That shallow brook of water,
+    With flowers around the brink.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+LULLABY.
+
+  A woman gently rocks her easy chair,
+    With a sweet infant lying on her breast,
+  The gentle motion waving her long hair,
+    As thus she sings her little one to rest,
+        Lullaby, lullaby!
+
+  Another twilight, and my heart is thrilled
+    Still with thy living beauty; angel feet
+  This day have trod our threshold, but to shield,
+    And not to bear thee hence, my baby sweet.
+        Lullaby, lullaby!
+
+  One radiant star is shining in the west,
+    A softer radiance is in thine eyes;
+  Upon the slender stalk the blossoms rest--
+    A sweeter blossom on my bosom lies.
+        Lullaby, lullaby!
+
+  All thou mayest be I dare not image now,
+    As thou in life shalt bear an earnest part;
+  Only I pray that on thy spotless brow
+    The seal of heaven be set, and true thy heart,
+        Lullaby, lullaby!
+
+  The dew is falling, and the leaves are stirred
+    With a low whispering of love and power,
+  And thou art sleepy now, my nestling bird,
+    Shut thy blue eyes as softly shuts the flower.
+        Lullaby, lullaby!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+HYMN.
+
+  God who is in heaven
+    Made all the pretty flowers,
+  He sends the pleasant sunshine,
+    And sends the dripping showers.
+
+  He made all living creatures,
+    And the earth to bring forth food,
+  And we will love and praise him,
+    For he is very good.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+2.
+
+  Keep us in the midnight,
+    Saviour dear,
+  Through the hours of darkness,
+    Oh, be thou near!
+
+  Powerless and lowly,
+    We lean on thy arm--
+  Watcher of Israel,
+    Keep us from harm!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+WELCOME.
+
+  There comes a little bird
+    In at the door;
+  Do see! Upon my word,
+    It's on the floor.
+
+  Little bird, come and stay;
+    Here you are welcome,
+  Or you may fly away
+    To your own home.
+
+  I will give you bread,
+    Much as you say;
+  After you have fed,
+    You may skip away.
+
+  There, on the cherry-tree,
+    Build your downy nest,
+  Or in any other
+    That you like best,
+
+  Little birds, pretty birds,
+    Come to my door;
+  If you have no words,
+    _Sing_ out for more!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

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@@ -0,0 +1,241 @@
+
+
+CHILD'S NEW STORY BOOK;
+
+OR TALES AND DIALOGUES FOR LITTLE FOLKS.
+
+
+
+1849. [Publication date on cover: 1850]
+
+
+
+  I'll watch thy dawn of joys, and mould
+         Thy little hearts to duty,--
+  I'll teach thee truths as I behold
+  Thy faculties, like flowers, unfold
+         In intellectual beauty.
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: The Little Ship.]
+
+
+The Little Ship.
+
+
+"I have made a nice little ship, of cork, and am going to let it sail
+in this great basin of water. Now let us fancy this water to be the
+North-Pacific Ocean, and those small pieces of cork on the side of the
+basin, to be the Friendly Islands, and this little man standing on the
+deck of the ship, to be the famous navigator, Captain Cook, going to
+find them."
+
+"Do you know that the Friendly Islands were raised by corals?"
+
+"I suppose they were."
+
+"Do you know where Captain Cook was born?"
+
+"He was born at Marton, a village in the North Riding of Yorkshire,
+in England."
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+[Illustration: The Little Girl and the Shell.]
+
+
+The Little Girl and the Shell.
+
+
+When I went to visit a friend, the other day, I saw a little girl with
+whom I was much pleased. She sat on a low seat by the fire-side, and
+she held in her hand a pretty white sea-shell, faintly tinted with pink,
+which she kept placing against her ear; and all the while a settled calm
+rested upon her face, and she seemed as if she were listening to the
+holy tones of some loved voice; then taking it away from her ear, she
+would gaze upon it with a look of deep fondness and pensive delight.
+At last I said,
+
+"What are you doing, my dear?"
+
+"I am listening to the whisper."
+
+"What whisper?" I asked.
+
+"The whisper of the sea," she said. "My uncle sent me this shell, and
+a letter in which he said, 'If I placed it against my ear I should hear
+the whisper of the sea;' and he also said, he would soon come to us, and
+bring me a great many pretty things; and mamma said, when we heard the
+whisper of the shell, we would call it uncle Henry's promise. And so
+it became very precious to me, and I loved its sound better than sweet
+music."
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+[Illustration: Robert and John.]
+
+
+Robert and John.
+
+
+One fine May morning, Robert and John were told by their mamma to go to
+school. So they put on their caps, and having kissed their mamma, were
+soon on their way. Now, first they had to pass through a pleasant lane,
+with tall elm trees on one side, and a hawthorn hedge on the other; then
+across two fields; then through a churchyard, and then up a little
+grove, at the end of which was the school-house. But they had not gone
+more than half the way down the lane, when John began to loiter behind,
+to gather wild flowers, and to pick up smooth little pebbles which had
+been washed clean by the rain, while Robert walked on reading his book.
+At last, John, calling after his brother, said, "I do not see what is
+the use of going to school this fine morning; let us play truant."
+
+"No," replied Robert; "I will not take pleasure, for which I know I must
+suffer in after hours."
+
+"Nonsense about that," said John; "I will enjoy myself while I can."
+
+"And so will I," replied Robert; "and I shall best enjoy myself by
+keeping a good conscience, and so I will go to school."
+
+"Very well, Robert, then tell the master that I am ill and cannot come,"
+said John.
+
+"I shall do no such thing, John," replied Robert; "I shall simply tell
+the truth, if I am asked why you are not with me."
+
+"Then I say you are very unkind, Robert," said John.
+
+"You will not go with me, then?" asked Robert, with a tear in his sweet
+blue eye.
+
+"I shall go up into this tree," said John; "and so good morning to you."
+
+Poor Robert gave one long look at his brother, heaved a deep sigh, and
+went on his way. And naughty John sat in the tree and watched him, after
+he had crossed the stile, walk along the smooth broad pathway that led
+through the field, then enter the church-yard, and stoop to read a verse
+on a tomb-stone; then take out his kerchief, wipe a tear from his eye,
+look upward to the cloudless heaven, and then he was gone. And John sat
+still in the tree, and he said to himself, "Oh! that I were as good as
+my brother; but I will go down and follow him."
+
+So he went down from the tree, leapt over the stile, ran along the
+fields, and did not stay to gather _one_ cowslip, though each one made
+him a golden bow as he passed. And when he went into the school-room,
+though he was only five minutes later than his brother, he told his
+master the whole truth, and how naughty he would have been, had it not
+been for a kind little thought, which came into his mind, and bade him
+try to be as good as his brother.
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+[Illustration: The Frosty Morning.]
+
+
+The Frosty Morning.
+
+
+"Oh! this clear frosty morning! it makes one feel all life and glee.
+I declare I have been running about the garden till I am all of a glow;
+and there you sit by the fire, Emma, looking quite dull. Come with me,
+and I will show you how the little pond is frozen over."
+
+"No,--it is so cold, I do not like to go."
+
+"Oh! put on your bonnet, and tie your shawl round your neck, and,
+believe me, you will be warm enough."
+
+"No, I will not go, and so you need not teaze me any more."
+
+"O! _I_ will go with you, brother Edwin; _I_ am not cold."
+
+"Yes, do, there's a dear little Ellen, and I will show you the long
+icicles which hang on the front of the arbor; and let us just run to the
+field, as I want you to see the hoar frost on the grass, and to feel it
+crisp under your feet. Is it not a lovely morning, sister Ellen?"
+
+"It is indeed, dear brother."
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+[Illustration: The White Rabbit.]
+
+
+Susan's White Rabbit.
+
+
+Oh! Mary, I have got such a darling white rabbit as I think you never
+saw. I do believe it is the sweetest little rabbit in the world; for
+I only had it given to me this morning, and yet it will eat clover from
+my hand, and let me stroke it, or do any thing I please. And James says
+that he will make a little house for it, which cousin Henry will paint
+very nice. And papa says, that I must call my little pet, _Snowdrop_,
+because he is as white as the drifted snow; and mamma says, that its
+two little bright eyes are like rubies. Do you not think, Mary, as
+I do, that it is the sweetest little rabbit in the world?
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+[Illustration: The Pet Robin.]
+
+
+The Pet Robin.
+
+
+My brother Frederick has a robin, and he calls him a dear little pet,
+he sings so sweetly. Oh! you cannot think how well he knows Freddy. You
+should see him early in the morning, when we first come down stairs, or
+at any time when we come in from a walk, how he runs to one corner of
+his cage, to look at us: and when Fred whistles and says, "My beauty!
+my fine fellow!" he stands up so straight, to listen to his kind little
+masters voice, and then begins jumping and hopping from one end of the
+cage to the other, just as I have seen happy little children jump and
+hop about in their sports.
+
+Sometime ago he was ill, and we were sadly afraid he would die; he used
+to sit from day to day, with ruffled feathers and drooping wings; his
+food was left untasted, and his pleasant voice was seldom heard; but
+in two or three weeks he began to grow better, and to eat his food
+as usual, and to pick amongst the green grass of the little sod we
+had placed in his cage. Oh, how happy we all were then, especially
+Frederick, who took care of him, and watched over him with the greatest
+love and tenderness. Indeed, he was well repaid for his care and
+anxiety, when his little pet once more began to jump about as blithely
+as ever.
+
+And now, you see, he is quite well, and we treasure his little songs
+more than ever we did before, for we never knew how sweet they were
+until we were deprived of them.
+
+And thus it is, dear children, with many blessings we possess; they
+become so common to us, that we cease to be thankful for them, and know
+not their value until they are taken away. We forget who is the Author
+and Giver of all good; we forget that it is through the mercy and loving
+kindness of GOD, that we receive food and clothing, and every blessing
+we possess.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg10987.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,263 @@
+
+
+LITTLE BEWILDERED HENRY.
+
+By The Author Of
+_Nothing At All_, &c. &c.
+
+
+[Illustration: FRONTISPIECE. _See Page 9_]
+
+The Extraordinary Adventures Of Poor Little Bewildered Henry,
+_Who was shut up in an old Abbey for Three Weeks_.
+
+A Story Founded On Fact.
+by
+The Author Of "Nothing At All," Etc.
+
+
+
+1850.
+
+
+
+The Adventures Of _Little Bewildered Henry_
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Oh, mamma! mamma! where is you, mamma?" sobbed little Henry, a sweet
+child of three years old, as he stood in the lawn, opposite the door,
+with the wind blowing his pretty hair and clothes all about him: "Oh,
+mamma! mamma! where is you? I don't know where is you, my own mamma."
+
+"What are you crying for?" said Bill Boldface, a naughty boy in the
+village, "eh, what are you crying for, you bold puppy? It's a good
+scelping you want. Don't you know what a scelping is, my boy?----a
+good whipping."
+
+"No, no! me don't want a whipping, me don't want a whipping; me want
+mamma. Oh! where is you, my own mamma?"
+
+"Well, she's gone into the wood there; and, if you don't make haste
+and run after her, a big pig that's there under the tree, all bloody,
+with long ears and cocked tail, will eat her. Run, my boy: that's
+right: run, now, run."
+
+Poor little Henry, much more alarmed for his mamma than for himself,
+flew into the wood with the hope of saving her; and having run a good
+way without stopping, calling all the time for his dear mamma, he
+tripped against a tree and fell: but quickly recovering, he stood up
+and continued his race, till, quite exhausted, he sat down on the
+grass, and there continued panting and crying bitterly. At last, he
+turned round; and what should he see, to his great joy, but his
+favourite dog Fidelle. "O, Fidelle! Fidelle!" said the baby, hugging
+his little arms round the dog's neck, "O! where's mamma? and where's
+papa? and where's nurse? Where, Fidelle? cannot you tell me where?"
+But having received no answer, he stood up, and again commenced his
+journey, and Fidelle ran on before; and it was astonishing what a
+length of way the baby walked, till, at last, he came to the foot of a
+high mountain.
+
+And now night came on, and the wind blew strong and cold; and little
+Henry, quite bewildered, turned into a narrow path, shaded by oak, and
+elm, and sycamore trees, and the baby again tripped against the root
+of one of them, and fell; and his little hand came against a stone,
+and he was much hurt, and his heart beat, and the tears streamed down
+one of the prettiest little faces that ever was seen, and the wind
+blew his pretty hair off his forehead, and it would go to your very
+heart to hear his little mournful cry, calling out for his mamma, his
+own dear mamma.
+
+[Illustration: ]
+
+At length, the moon arose in great splendour, and little Henry saw at
+a distance an old abbey, all covered with ivy, and looking so dark and
+dismal, it would frighten any one from going in. But Henry's little
+heart, occupied by the idea of his mamma, and with grief that he could
+not find her, felt no fear; but walking in, he saw a cell in the
+corner that looked like a baby-house, and, with Fidelle by his side,
+he bent his little steps towards it, and seating himself on a stone,
+he leaned his pretty head against the old wall, and fell fast asleep.
+
+[Illustration:]
+
+Overcome with fatigue, the sweet baby slept soundly till morning; but
+when he awoke Fidelle was gone, and he felt very hungry. And he again
+set up his little cry, "Oh, mamma! mamma! where is you, mamma? Oh! I
+want my breakfast! I want my breakfast!" At length, he spied Fidelle
+cantering in with something in her mouth, and having laid it by
+Henry's side, she darted out of the abbey. Henry took it up: it was a
+large piece of white bread, which the faithful creature had met with
+somewhere, and brought to her little favourite.[1]
+
+[Footnote 1: A fact.]
+
+You may suppose how happy the poor child was to get it; and while he
+was eating it, a grey owl marched from her nest in the wall, and began
+picking up the crumbs. This greatly amused little Henry; and, in a few
+minutes after, there came a great set of sparrows, and a
+robin-redbreast, and two of them began to fight. And this made Henry
+laugh; and, on the whole, they so occupied him all day, he was less
+unhappy than the day before: and, when night came, he lay down near
+the nest of the owl and her young ones, and slept soundly.
+
+Next day, faithful Fidelle again appeared with a piece of boiled beef
+in her mouth, which having left at Henry's feet, she scampered off,
+and Henry ate heartily, and gave some to the owls. And when he could
+forget his mamma, which indeed was not often, these birds used to
+amuse his little mind. But, towards evening, getting very thirsty, he
+again began to cry, and to call for mamma; and God, who watches over
+little infants just the same as if they were grown men, put it into
+his little heart to walk outside the abbey, where was a nice stream
+running through the grass: and the baby, recollecting he had seen a
+boy, the week before, lying on the ground drinking out of a stream
+near papa's house, knelt down and took a hearty drink of the clear
+water.
+
+[Illustration: ]
+
+And now, near a week passed over, Fidelle constantly
+bringing a supply of food, and the owls, and the sparrows, and the
+robin, sharing the welcome morsel, and affording Henry's little mind
+constant amusement and occupation. At length, the little birds began
+not to be afraid of Henry; and they would come and hop by his side,
+and pick up the crumbs, and almost eat from his hand. And one of them
+built its nest close to him, and laid two eggs, and every evening
+would sing such a sweet song, that really the baby began to get
+reconciled, and used to feel like a little king among them all. And now
+we must leave our mighty _monarch_ for a while, and return to his
+disconsolate parents.
+
+[Illustration: ]
+
+The evening Bill Boldface had met him, and sent him so cruelly into
+the wood, mamma was out walking, and on her return enquired for the
+baby.
+
+"O," said papa, "he is safe: I saw him in nurse's arms a few minutes
+ago."
+
+Mamma immediately went up to the nursery, and there heard that nurse
+had gone off to see her sister, who lived about two miles distant,
+"and, of course," said the nursery-maid, "she has taken Master Henry
+with her."
+
+Impressed with this idea, mamma returned to tea; but when night came,
+she began to get very uneasy, for nurse did not return. "O," said
+papa, "you know she often remains at her sister's; and though she has
+done very wrong in keeping the baby out, yet she is so fond and
+careful of him, we need not be uneasy." But what was their distraction
+when morning came?--nurse returned, but no baby!
+
+The whole country was searched, the ponds and lake were searched,
+every spot searched but the very place the baby was in. Advertisements
+were put in all the papers, and the poor father and mother were near
+sinking under the distraction of their mind. Unfeeling Bill Boldface,
+who could have set all to rights, had sailed off to America the very
+morning after the sweet baby had disappeared.
+
+At length, one morning, the distracted father perceived Fidelle
+jumping upon the table and seizing a large piece of bread, fly off
+with it to the wood. The Lord instantly put it in his heart to follow
+the dog, who led him into the abbey; and there, surrounded by his
+little subjects the birds, fast asleep, (for he had just fallen asleep
+on his throne,) lay the little _monarch_. His hand was placed
+under his little head, and the leaves of the ivy and the yew were all
+scattered about him. "My child! my child!" said the poor father,
+darting forward, and snatching him in his arms; "'tis my Henry! my
+cherub! my darling! O gracious God! is it indeed my child?"
+
+[Illustration: ]
+
+The well-known voice aroused Henry, and flinging his little arms
+around papa's neck, he begged to be taken instantly to mamma, saying,
+as his happy papa carried him out of the abbey, "Good-bye, little
+birds, good-bye: I'll come back to-morrow, and bring you some white
+bread; but now I must go see mamma. Good-bye, little birds, good-bye."
+
+Poor mamma, when she saw him, overcome by her feelings, fainted away.
+When she recovered, she threw herself on her knees in gratitude to God
+for thus so wonderfully preserving her little darling.
+
+And now, my children, pause for a moment, and reflect on the goodness
+of God so powerfully displayed in this little story. You see how he
+directed Fidelle to bring food for the support of this little baby;
+you see how wonderfully he was preserved, and how, at length, he was
+restored to his parents. Those parents were truly religious, and
+_therefore_ their prayers were heard--_For the eyes of the Lord
+are over the righteous, and his ears are open unto their prayers: but
+the face of the Lord is against them that do evil_. (1 Pet. iii.
+12.) O my children! love God, and make Christ your friend, and then
+they will watch over you as they did over little Henry; and, when you
+die, they will take you up to live with themselves, and you shall be
+surrounded by the happy angels in heaven.
+
+Perhaps my little readers may like to hear something of poor Fidelle.
+Soon after her visits to the abbey, she had two little pups. One of
+them died, but the other Henry reared with the greatest tenderness;
+while its good old mother, beloved and even respected (which is not
+generally the case with dogs) by all the family, lived to an advanced
+age: and when she died, they buried her in the garden, under the
+spreading branches of an old sycamore tree.
+
+Little Henry, trained in the love and fear of God, grew up one of the
+best of children. Every where he went, the blessing of God was with
+him, for Christ was his friend: and when little Henry had committed a
+fault, he would apply to his kind Saviour, who was then always ready
+to procure God's pardon for him. In the course of time, his mamma
+taught him the following little poem.
+
+   Thou Friend of my childhood, and Guide of my youth,
+   Thou Father of mercies, and Fountain of truth;--
+   Protect and direct me wherever I stray,
+   And bless little Henry each hour in the day.
+
+   When up in the morning I rise from my bed,
+   O, let thy kind angels be plac'd o'er my head;
+   And when at my tasks, at my school, or my play,
+   Still bless little Henry each hour in the day.
+
+   When night spreads its shade o'er the waves of the deep,
+   And Henry is sunk in the stillness of sleep,
+   O, still let thy poor child be dear in thy sight,
+   And bless little Henry each hour in the night.
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+
+BOOKS
+
+BY THE SAME AUTHOR,
+
+_Poems Appropriate For A Sick Or A
+Melancholy Hour_. Price _6s_. in extra
+boards.
+
+_A Whisper To A Newly-Married
+Pair, from a Widowed Wife_. Price
+_3s. 6d_. in extra boards.
+
+_Parnassian Geography; or, the
+Little Ideal Wanderer_. Price _2s. 6d_. in extra boards.
+
+_The Flowers Of The Forest_. Price
+_2s. 6d_. in extra boards.
+
+_A Gift From The Mountains,
+Or, The Happy Sabbath_. Price _1s_.
+
+_A Walk To Weller's Wood_. Price
+_2d_.
+
+_Enquiries Into Natural Causes
+And Effects_. Price _2d_.
+
+_Nothing At All_. Price _1d_.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg10989.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,263 @@
+
+
+OUR SAVIOUR
+
+
+Father Tuck's NEW TESTAMENT Series.
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Our Savior.]
+
+Our Saviour.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ had been quietly living for many years
+at His father's home in Nazareth when John the Baptist began to preach
+and prepare the people for His coming, as it had been foretold by an
+Angel before His birth that he should do, and we are told that all the
+land of Judea, and the people of Jerusalem, roused by his preaching,
+went to be baptized by him in the river Jordan, after confessing their
+sins.
+
+John told them that One much greater than he was to come after him, One
+whose shoes he was not worthy to unloose, for he could only baptize them
+with water and exhort them to repent of their sins while there was yet
+time, but He who was to come after would baptize them with the Holy
+Ghost. This he did till Jesus Himself came from Nazareth to the Jordan,
+and desired John, the companion of His childhood, to baptize Him also.
+John objected, saying that he himself had need to be baptized of Jesus,
+and was not worthy to perform the office for Him, but our gracious
+Saviour insisted till John led Him into the river and baptized Him.
+
+As they returned to the land a very wonderful thing happened, for the
+heavens opened above, and the Spirit of God, in the form of a dove,
+descended, and alighted upon Jesus, whilst a voice was heard saying
+"This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased."
+
+Then John went on his way, preaching more and more to the people, and
+telling every one who would listen to him of the marvellous thing he had
+seen; whilst Christ went away by Himself into a lonely place called a
+wilderness, where, for forty days, and forty nights, He was tempted by
+the devil in all manner of ways, but finding that, by the help of God
+His Father, Jesus was enabled to resist all temptation to sin, and would
+worship and serve none but the true God, the devil at length left Him,
+and "Angels came and ministered unto Him."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+From that time, Jesus being then about thirty years of age, He began
+to preach, and exhort to repentance as John had done before Him. One
+day as He walked beside the sea of Galilee He saw two brothers named
+Simon-Peter and Andrew, fishing by the shore. These men He called to Him
+and bade them follow Him for He would make them fishers of men, and they
+immediately left their nets and followed Him. Presently, as they walked
+along the shore, they saw two other fishermen brothers--James and John,
+the sons of Zebedee, in a boat with their father, mending the great,
+brown nets with which they caught fish on the Syrian coasts, and called
+them also, and they too left their nets and their father and followed
+Him. They were the first four of the twelve disciples whom Jesus by
+degrees gathered about Him, and who were His companions and assistants
+in His future work. With His disciples Christ travelled over the whole
+land of Syria, now called the Holy Land, teaching in the churches and
+preaching about the Kingdom of His Father, and healing all manner of
+diseases and sicknesses amongst the people, until the fame of His
+sayings and doings spread every where, and the sick and suffering and
+diseased were brought to Him from all quarters that He might heal them.
+This He never refused to do, for His heart was so overflowing with
+divine love and pity for mankind that He could not see suffering or
+misery without healing it.
+
+[Illustration: Jesus is Baptized.]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+But so immense grew the multitude of people who began to follow
+and press about Him, that He had no room to teach or to preach, no
+opportunity to rest and talk quietly with His disciples either night
+or day.
+
+Seeing this He went up a mountain side, and sat down, and His disciples
+came to Him, and there He began to instruct the people by preaching
+to them that most grand and beautiful sermon called the Sermon on the
+Mount, which contains not only the lessons taught by the series of
+blessings called "The Beatitudes", at the commencement, but that prayer
+of prayers known to every child as the "Lord's Prayer", because it is
+the only one which Christ Himself taught word for word with His own
+lips, and which has remained unaltered through the nineteen hundred
+years which have gone by since He lived on earth.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The people were very much astonished, not only at what Christ preached
+to them, but because He spoke as if He had direct authority for what
+He said, and this they could not understand, because they had not
+forgotten that He was the Son of Joseph the Carpenter of Nazareth.
+
+When Jesus came down from the mountain side, great multitudes followed
+Him, many of whom were sick and entreated Him to heal them, and He not
+only did so, but performed many yet greater miracles, such as making
+the blind to see and the deaf to hear, and even restoring to life some
+that were dead, always however, impressing on those about Him, that it
+was not by His own power that He did these things, but by faith in the
+Spirit of God His Father who moved within Him.
+
+After having sufficiently taught His disciples by quiet talks, by
+speaking to them through parables and letting them behold the miracles
+He Himself performed, until they thoroughly believed in His Divine
+power, Christ called the whole twelve around Him and gave them also the
+power to perform miracles, to heal all manner of sickness and disease,
+and then sent them forth to teach and preach in all the cities of
+Israel. He laid upon them many injunctions as to their conduct as
+they travelled, how they were to give offence to no one, and to teach
+brotherly love and the forgiveness of injuries between man and man as
+freely as God had promised to forgive them.
+
+[Illustration: By the Sea of Galilee.]
+
+Now and then, by twos and threes, some of the disciples came back
+to Jesus to report to Him what they had done and how they had been
+received, and how the fame of His Name and teaching was spreading far
+and wide; and so it happened that He was seldom without one or two of
+these loved and trusted followers about Him as He journeyed, sometimes
+stopping a few days in one place, sometimes crossing the inland sea of
+Galilee, or going from city to city along the coast in a boat or ship,
+but always doing good wherever He went, preaching the Gospel of his
+Father, and winning men, women, and children to follow Him.
+
+Our Saviour had no comfortable home such as you have; often and often He
+had nowhere to lay His head at night, but weary and hungry after a long
+day's ministry, He would stretch Himself on the ground wherever He might
+be at the time, and sleep with the grass for His bed, and the starry sky
+for His curtains.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+All through His life, which He spent in loving service towards men, our
+Saviour was specially kind and tender to little children. One day He was
+so much inconvenienced by the number of women with children in their
+arms pressing upon Him, and entreating Him to bless their little ones,
+that the disciples who were with Him rebuked the mothers; but Jesus said
+to them "Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them
+not, for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven." Then He told those about Him
+that if only they would receive His teaching of the Kingdom of God, and
+believe in Him as simply and entirely as little children did, they would
+inherit Eternal Life; and He would take the little ones who clustered
+round His feet into His loving arms and bless them.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+On another occasion when His disciples were disputing as to who should
+be the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven, Jesus called a little child
+and set him in the midst of them, and said whoever should be as meek and
+humble as a little child should be the greatest; and whoever received a
+little child with love and reverence in His Name, received Him, and then
+He warned them to take heed and not despise little children, and never
+to say or do anything that should stain the innocency of their minds
+because "In Heaven their angels do always behold the face of My Father."
+You, little children who read this book, must remember that you are just
+as much the care of your Good Shepherd now, as were those privileged
+ones of old who actually saw Him face to face, you must have faith in
+Him as they had, and believe that though you cannot see Him now, He is
+still, and always at your side, seeing all you do, hearing all you say,
+watching over you, and, if you will only let Him, willing to guide you
+safely to the Home in Heaven which He has gone to prepare for those that
+love Him and try to do His will.
+
+[Illustration: The Last Supper.]
+
+Feeling that He must go through Samaria, where He had not yet preached,
+our Saviour travelled on alone and came to a well which is called
+Jacob's well; being very weary He seated Himself on the edge to rest.
+He was very thirsty also, and on a woman coming up with a pitcher, He
+asked her to draw Him some water: when He had drunk, He said that if she
+knew who He was she would have asked Him for water instead, for He could
+give her the Living Water of Everlasting Life. Then He told her who He
+was, and she went away to the city telling every one she met Whom she
+had seen: some of the disciples then joined Him, and Jesus remained two
+days in the city preaching so that many believed in Him, and on the way
+back into Galilee He healed a nobleman's son of a mortal sickness.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+On returning to Bethany, Jesus heard that Lazarus, the brother of Martha
+and Mary, two sisters whom He loved, had died during His absence. Martha
+met Him weeping, and told Him of their grief saying "Lord, if Thou hadst
+been here, my brother had not died," for she knew Jesus would have saved
+him. Jesus Himself wept to see their sorrow, and going to the grave
+ordered the stone to be rolled away and called Lazarus to come forth;
+Lazarus did so, and many of those present believed in Jesus, but others
+went away and told the High Priests and rulers, who were much troubled,
+for they said "If we let this man go many will believe in Him, and His
+adherents will become too powerful, and will take our nation away from
+us."
+
+The people of Bethany made a supper for our Lord, and Lazarus and Martha
+and Mary were there, together with the disciples; the Feast of the
+Passover was near, and Jerusalem was crowded, and the Chief Priests
+became still more uneasy for more and more of the people every day
+believed in Christ, and when they heard He was coming to Jerusalem went
+out to meet Him with branches of palm, crying "Hosannah--Blessed is He
+that cometh in the Name of the Lord," and the people said "Behold, the
+world is gone after Him."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Jesus knew that the time was now come when He should depart from this
+world and go to His Father, and told His disciples so, saying they must
+not be troubled, for there were many mansions in His Father's House and
+He was but going before to prepare a place there for them. Then, being
+sorrowful at heart, our Lord went up to a garden called Gethsemane, and
+prayed to His Father that the souls of all mankind might be saved and
+come at last to share the glory of Heaven. Whilst He prayed, one of His
+disciples, who knew where He was, wickedly betrayed Him to the Chief
+Priests, and guided a band of soldiers to the garden, who bound Him and
+led Him to the High Priest Caiaphas, who in turn sent Him to be judged
+by Pontius Pilate the Governor.
+
+[Illustration: The Ascension.]
+
+Pilate, when he had heard of what the people accused Jesus, knew that
+it was for envy they were excited against Him, and washed his hands
+before the multitude, saying he found no fault in Him, and he would have
+nothing to do with shedding the blood of an innocent man. "His blood be
+on us and our children" cried the people and they roughly dragged Him
+away, and beat Him, and made Him carry a heavy cross of wood up Mount
+Calvary where they crucified Him, by nailing Him to the cross. Now Mary
+the Mother of Jesus, and another woman, also named Mary, and many of the
+disciples had followed in the crowd; they could not save our Lord from
+His cruel death, but when He was dead, they, together with a good man
+called Joseph, were allowed to take His body down from the cross, and
+lay it in a tomb belonging to Joseph, hewn out of a rock in a garden,
+and they set a great stone upon it. It had been foretold that Jesus
+should rise again on the third day, so, fearing that His disciples
+should steal away the body, and pretend that He had risen, the Chief
+Priests set keepers to guard the tomb.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Mary, the Mother of Jesus, and the other Mary, went to visit the tomb
+early in the morning of the third day, and there was a great earthquake
+and the Angel of God descended and rolled back the stone and sat upon
+it, so that the keepers shook with afright, but the Angel said "Fear
+not, for Jesus is not here, He is risen, as He, said." so the two Marys
+ran to tell His disciples the great news, and on their way met Jesus
+Himself, and they fell at His feet and worshipped Him. He told them to
+go and tell His disciples to go into Galilee and He would meet them
+there. This He did, and for the last time He met them on a hill side in
+Bethany, and again taught them, telling them still to go out into the
+world and preach repentance and the remission of sins in His Name. Then
+He lifted up His hands, and blessed them, and even as He did so, He was
+suddenly carried up into Heaven and hidden from their sight.
+
+Helen Marion Burnside.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg11006.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,882 @@
+
+
+Copyright (c) 2003 by John Moncure Wetterau
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+The Book With
+
+   The Yellow Cover
+
+
+
+
+John Moncure Wetterau
+
+
+
+
+
+(c) copyright 2003 by John Moncure Wetterau.
+
+This work is licensed under the Creative Commons
+Attribution-NoDerivs-NonCommercial License. Essentially, anyone is free
+to copy, distribute, or perform this copyrighted work for
+non-commercial uses only, so long as the work is preserved verbatim and
+is attributed to the author.  To view a copy of this license, visit:
+http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd-nc/1.0/ or send a letter to:
+Creative Commons
+559 Nathan Abbott Way
+Stanford, California 94305, USA.
+
+ISBN #: 0-9729587-0-3
+
+Published by:
+Fox Print Books
+137 Emery Street
+Portland, ME 04102
+
+foxprintbooks@earthlink.net
+207.775.6860
+
+
+
+Some of these poems first appeared in: Poetry East-West, The Maine
+Sunday Telegram, The Maine Times, Nostoc, Backwoods Broadsides,
+H.O.M.E., Headcheese, Chants, Backwoods Broadsides Chaplet Series, Café
+Review, and To Keep You Company.
+
+
+
+
+for w.cat
+
+
+
+
+I had a book of Chinese and Japanese poems that I gave to a friend on
+the west coast. It was a very small book with a yellow cover, stapled
+together. No adornments. Just the poems, alive after hundreds of years.
+    J.M.W.
+
+
+
+
+The Japanese Mason
+
+Without haste, gathering
+scrape of the trowel,
+slap of cement,
+reaching for a block,
+setting and tapping it level,
+turning with the wheelbarrow,
+graceful, sweating,
+freed
+of every moment.
+
+                      Kauai
+
+
+
+
+Sweet Hawaii
+
+Even if somebody did steal
+my battery, generator, oil cap,
+visegrips last night,
+I passed the test to be a taxi driver,
+and even if I don't have the money
+to buy a _Charley's Taxi_ shirt,
+congratulations to me.
+I'll figure something out.
+I'll have coffee in _Everybody's Bake Shop; _
+I'll write Varve and Finn,
+tell them I love them,
+tell them sweet Hawaii
+going to be our new home.
+
+                              Honolulu
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Bus Stop
+
+14, eyes of a deer
+       in bamboo.
+
+16, heavier, going to school
+       without her books.
+
+                  King Street
+                  Honolulu
+
+
+
+
+For Rob
+
+Handsome Rob.
+Half the women hate you;
+the other half
+will give you anything.
+Deep in Nam:
+your buddy shot, tracheotomy.
+"He died happy," you told me,
+"he believed I was going to
+save him."
+Perhaps he knew
+he would lie in your arms
+forever.
+
+
+
+
+
+Too Big
+
+Listening to Schubert
+while Great-Aunt Hannah
+embroiders on the wall,
+and darkness closes--
+what have we come to?
+We've gone wrong,
+too big
+to find our way by song,
+light
+falling on a face
+and handkerchief,
+illumination
+in the manner
+of Rembrandt.
+
+
+
+Peter's Answer
+
+Little Blue Heron, young, still white,
+by the north causeway bridge--
+stick legs, too thin
+for the swelling body,
+the visual weight of feathers,
+stepping slowly in shallow water,
+long toes trailing limply, then
+extending, three splayed forward,
+one back. Brilliant neck
+curving, poised. Dagger beak
+the same gray as legs and toes.
+Why is nature beautiful?
+The lust for pattern, Peter said.
+The heron's head rose and twisted,
+circular eye, light brown, orange
+rimmed, ancient intelligence
+asking a different question.
+I was unmoving, not dangerous.
+The heron turned to hunt,
+brush, a cloud above the river.
+
+       New Smyrna Beach,
+       Florida
+
+
+
+
+Wally's Poem
+
+Dolphins surge up and under.
+Mozart's soprano
+stitches the heart together.
+Washes for a watercolor.
+
+An ant crosses my foot.
+Wallace Klitgaard;
+_Epitome of Splendor_--
+ants, sun, one's lot.
+He typed it himself,
+showed it to me on the bus
+38 years ago.
+He was grinning,
+the glad no age
+that we become, bent
+to making clumsy prayer.
+
+
+
+
+Morning, Maine Honolulu
+
+Early mist breaking
+on low tide, mud smell.
+Ducks, the small birds,
+the rooster down the road
+begin to sing the air,
+the light, the whole
+enormous chance
+
+grateful as the old people
+reclaiming Pauahi Street,
+seeing each other in doorways
+after the night.
+
+
+
+
+I Would
+
+In 1948
+I walked all the way
+to 14th Street
+to buy a bow and arrow.
+It was 30 cents; I had 29.
+
+The woman sold it to me anyway
+and I was free and happy
+on Sixth Avenue
+as any Indian.
+
+If I could find her tonight,
+I would keep death far away.
+
+
+For Anita Bartlett,
+Too Late
+
+Why cannot blue be enough?
+Light in the sky, dark in the sea,
+the shades between.
+The green of fields,
+red clover, buttercups.
+Bridal white of apple blossoms,
+burial earth, hawk's feather, snakeskin.
+Monarchs, Anita,
+feeding on purple aster,
+fluttering up,
+sun glowing orange, brown, bronze
+through black edged wings, twenty
+joining twenty joining a hundred,
+down, up, over, from
+color to color
+to Mexico.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Clouds booming over
+the washed woods,
+blue sun, Finn eats
+chop suey from a pot
+while I shave.
+Six months to dismantle
+the dead rooms of a marriage,
+down to a borrowed tent,
+patches of snow, and invisibly,
+all around us, sap rising
+in its own sweet time.
+
+                   April, Maine
+
+
+
+
+
+Alexis
+
+Icons, coal mines, Ten Mile Creek,
+the Monongahela,
+a long way to this house
+by the Kennebec,
+sitting erect,
+brushing your hair,
+fire and peace in your cheeks,
+preparing for the further
+steppes of feeling.
+
+
+
+Back In Town
+
+Billy Frailly's got a new shirt,
+shaved and walking down the road
+ready for anything.
+When I was in fifth grade
+Billy powered his bike up Church Hill
+(black Stetson, yellow kerchief).
+I helped him shovel out Mrs. Cowell's
+parking place. He did most of the work,
+but he split the money fifty-fifty.
+He's an outcast now;
+no frontier he can reach.
+But he's not crying, and we know
+there is no virtue, only consequence
+and the sometimes music
+of a new shirt.
+
+                   Woodstock
+
+
+
+
+Bluejay Feather
+
+Bluejay feather
+in the grass.
+Something was here
+once,
+A flash of color,
+a harsh cry,
+and it was gone.
+The feather remains:
+tough, precise,
+useful
+
+               For Sylvester
+               On his 40th
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Talking To Myself
+
+Early dark blue, one jet trail
+arching past Venus,
+snow coming tomorrow.
+My mother,
+unable to move.
+Hit it down the road, seven hours,
+stand by her bed,
+acknowledge the bond of blood,
+the sensitivity
+she could never handle,
+that I have ridden to beauty
+beyond all expectation.
+
+
+
+
+Wilson Street
+
+Low gray sky.
+Cold. Still.
+Christmas tree upside down,
+tinsel on dirty snow.
+A yellow balloon
+bounces slowly
+across Wilson Street.
+A black cat
+glides three steps up,
+turns in a doorway.
+
+                 Portland
+
+
+
+On Looking At A Mediocre Painting
+
+Thin paint. No passion.
+We would agree, I know,
+although we met only once--
+some things are in the blood.
+Mustard, orange, navy blue
+around a fake significance.
+
+The loss of Ireland, the 19th century,
+what were you to do?
+
+Fuck the beautiful, the gifted
+(my mother before she went crazy);
+leave the clanging cockroach cold
+behind (Bobby);
+find the best (Pollock, Kline,
+Noguchi, Nakian),
+live uptown (Kevin);
+die finally.
+
+Well, ashes to ashes then.
+
+But the three of us--your sons,
+scattered to separate lives--
+one way or another
+we carry you on,
+this eye,
+this fist within.
+
+                      Sean
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Every Moment
+
+Sun warms
+one side of the alley.
+A young woman smiles at me,
+surprised by her new beauty.
+Sex, tenderness, cobblestones.
+Once I was a Venetian
+with my last gold coin.
+Once I broke my vows
+and left the Order.
+Arms around her legs,
+the blue milk crate
+on which she sits, the
+kitchen door propped open
+with a mop--every moment
+like this.
+
+                Portland
+
+
+
+
+For Tamey
+
+Drove over the bridge today,
+saw the water far below
+and once again imagined
+your last jump--
+desperation, pain, relief,
+a twist of gallantry
+across your face,
+your final bow to the truth
+you always told me to tell.
+You sure as hell saved my life.
+Tamey, I could never say goodbye.
+I miss you. I wish
+you could have played with Finnegan.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Rough cloth,
+the gathering of giant ferns
+woven together, supple, bending,
+energy moving up your spine,
+mind dancing in the night,
+Palm Tree Exercise.
+
+                     Kailua
+
+
+
+The Early Ones
+
+Black night turns dark blue,
+a wedge of lighter blue,
+dim gray.
+Outposts on the beach
+become aware of each other:
+narrow stones
+aligned to the east,
+grouped around a driftwood stick
+sixteen inches high.
+In an hour--
+sheltered by grass, overhanging
+edge of the continent--
+they will cast long thin shadows;
+they will be first,
+brave against the day.
+
+For an anonymous sculptor,
+Crescent Beach, Maine
+
+
+
+
+
+Warm Sake
+
+Warm sake, sashimi maguro,
+blood red slices on a wooden block,
+light green chicory, pickled ginger.
+Outside: harbor ice rocking in the tide,
+translucent, thin dark edges
+swirling in black water.
+
+                           Shiki
+                           Portland
+
+
+
+
+Leaving Finn
+
+Las Cruces at dusk,
+necklace on the desert.
+Back in Tucson, Finn
+recovering from surgery,
+sweat on his nose,
+trying to smile, whispering,
+"Have a good trip, Dad."
+
+
+
+
+Late Breakfast
+
+Red nails,
+gold cigarette,
+young pampered mouth,
+hair drawn back,
+a sense of having reached
+her limits,
+a perfect twenty-two.
+There was a moment
+when she chose all this.
+
+I must begin again,
+without shame.
+
+             Wailana Coffee Shop
+             Honolulu
+
+
+
+
+Spring Dream of SueSue
+
+Perfectly quiet
+a trout lets me hold him.
+
+You surface laughing,
+dark hair,
+blue shirt unbuttoned.
+
+                   March
+
+
+
+
+Lament For Paul
+
+Scratching your beard, excited,
+"Fantastic," you said about
+the Beatles' new record.
+The next night you played
+your own shy songs, surprising us.
+You were crushed beneath your car,
+but your songs, Paul, I heard them.
+We all heard them.
+
+                      Woodstock
+
+
+
+For Coyote
+
+I think of you drinking, dancing,
+unable to sleep, reading until first light,
+a blanket drawn around your shoulders,
+afternoons, working your wheel until
+the time to mingle with true hearts,
+raise glasses, hug, laugh,
+help as you can.
+We are all dying, slower or faster,
+but it hurts to watch.
+And out of the numb exuberant wreckage of your days
+come these raku pots--
+graceful open shapes, lines freely
+scratched into the clay, deep turquoise,
+copper glazes, extravagant, surprised,
+too beautiful for tears.
+
+
+
+
+After Months
+
+Shifting unstable air,
+patches of light,
+raindrops standing on
+the candy red gas tank
+of a Kawasaki 750.
+Coming down harder,
+bouncing off the seat,
+dripping from the tips
+of black rubber handgrips,
+tach speedometer needles
+resting on their zero pegs,
+twin mirrors focused back.
+
+                  October,
+                  Maine
+
+
+
+
+Fortune Cookie
+
+Almond lemon gritty on the tongue,
+--_TIMES LONG AGO WILL PRESENT
+A SPECIAL TREASURE TO YOU_--
+A moment whole again?
+To see more clearly, Trudi, 17,
+washing in the Woodland Valley
+stream. Tamey,
+giving me another nickel
+to play pinball.
+Barbara's smile, wanting a child.
+My grandfather's arm, levering
+a floor board, skin hanging
+from his biceps cord,
+holding while I nailed.
+So many treasures I can't quite see.
+
+
+
+
+
+Wrecking Ball, Commercial Street
+
+Salmon streaks of pulverized brick,
+white pigment, tar, nicked and scarred
+in every direction, patina of blows
+on a mute obdurate interior.
+Six weeks I carried it until
+the beautiful surface cast off,
+weightless. The iron opened from
+the inside out and like a new bell
+began to sing.
+
+                        For Elena
+
+
+
+
+The Polynesian Navigator
+
+Swells current,
+sky rimmed,
+shell on a stick chart
+promise of land,
+alone and
+singing.
+
+
+
+
+Kahuna's Way
+
+Twisting through high cane,
+silver green, tossing in the trade winds,
+toward the mountain wall
+dark green jagged, deep shadows
+where a warrior prayed,
+ancient silence, Kahuna's way,
+beyond King Sugar
+and the city that is coming.
+
+                        Hulemalu Road
+                        Kauai
+
+
+
+
+41, In The Honolulu Public Library
+
+Like beautiful fish
+moving slowly through coral,
+they eddy through the library,
+dark hair, bright dark eyes,
+the wisdom of their mothers
+lying gravely on their faces;
+ready to love, to stay,
+they flick away
+on currents deep and proper.
+
+
+
+For Catherine, someday
+in a quiet hour, wondering
+what is possible
+
+When I hold your mother
+while she holds me,
+all that was, is;
+the future comes
+moment to moment,
+complete.
+For this, salmon swim
+their river, elephants
+remember, wild geese
+call out at dusk.
+I fought and risked,
+trusted and betrayed.
+How can you find another
+before you find yourself,
+traveling the heart's way,
+alone, unsure, knowing only
+that you must?
+
+
+
+
+
+Rage's Place
+
+Put your forehead
+on the ground and
+pound your fists.
+Curl on your side,
+close your eyes,
+scream silently.
+You will not be
+answered. No.
+But your cries--
+your cries will be
+clothes and flowers,
+honor
+for the journey.
+
+   for David and Louisa
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+The Purkinje Shift
+
+All day, snow,
+now turning gray,
+trees darker
+in the fading light,
+violet peace
+before the night,
+slowly drifting
+toward the solstice.
+
+              December
+
+
+
+
+Bee Fantasy
+
+Reaching, high on
+the shoulders
+of thinner air,
+rising with the Queen,
+the view! the view! mating
+falling and falling
+back to meadow,
+the warm dark,
+first light,
+dancing out the maps.
+
+
+
+
+The American Way
+
+F18's screaming down
+wing tip to wing tip,
+brave, lethal, steady nerve.
+Johnny Copeland's lead guitar
+ripping through the air,
+taking us faster, inverting, 6 G's,
+dark forehead, sweat, hot and loose.
+Face at the bar, arched eyebrows,
+black hair back, wide mouth,
+brooding, sensual, slightly battered.
+Fighters, blues man, beauty,
+power at the edge,
+the American way.
+
+                      Maine
+
+
+The Sculptor's Trade
+
+On white stands:
+azure/turquoise branches,
+flow and knuckle taken
+by poured bronze--
+bent, welded, gripped,
+held, colored--
+artifacts, works in progress,
+ship's ribs, basketry,
+child's play.
+Hands dream as they fashion,
+remember what they feel
+(her thin shoulder,
+a 9/16 inch wrench).
+Let go. Follow
+the sculptor's trade.
+Find and shape
+what is not known
+until it's made.
+
+                 For John von Bergen
+
+
+
+
+Elegy For Simenon
+
+Fresh air, faintly salty,
+smell of bark and fallen apples,
+small pond, lily pads,
+dark water. White blossoms
+tinged with ruby, floating,
+heavy with light.
+You enter one, still searching.
+Slowly,
+petals fold around you.
+
+                  Deer Isle, Maine
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Unfinished
+
+Your hands
+for clothes.
+Your legs,
+home.
+We
+
+
+For w.cat
+
+Married twice,
+once in a church,
+once in City Hall,
+each good in its way.
+Now I choose the shade
+of a live oak tree, veils
+of Spanish moss,
+a hundred cicadas
+singing in the branches.
+You are in the north,
+but still we join
+beneath this green
+and raucous dome
+Mated. Complete.
+Mindful
+of those
+alone.
+
+        New Smyrna Beach,
+        Florida
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg11186.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,334 @@
+
+
+CAPTAINS ALL
+
+By W.W. Jacobs
+
+
+
+OVER THE SIDE
+
+[Illustration: "Over the Side."]
+
+Of all classes of men, those who follow the sea are probably the most
+prone to superstition.  Afloat upon the black waste of waters, at the
+mercy of wind and sea, with vast depths and strange creatures below them,
+a belief in the supernatural is easier than ashore, under the cheerful
+gas-lamps.  Strange stories of the sea are plentiful, and an incident
+which happened within my own experience has made me somewhat chary of
+dubbing a man fool or coward because he has encountered something he
+cannot explain.  There are stories of the supernatural with prosaic
+sequels; there are others to which the sequel has never been published.
+
+I was fifteen years old at the time, and as my father, who had a strong
+objection to the sea, would not apprentice me to it, I shipped before the
+mast on a sturdy little brig called the _Endeavour,_ bound for Riga.  She
+was a small craft, but the skipper was as fine a seaman as one could wish
+for, and, in fair weather, an easy man to sail under.  Most boys have a
+rough time of it when they first go to sea, but, with a strong sense of
+what was good for me, I had attached myself to a brawny, good-natured
+infant, named Bill Smith, and it was soon understood that whoever hit me
+struck Bill by proxy.  Not that the crew were particularly brutal, but a
+sound cuffing occasionally is held by most seamen to be beneficial to a
+lad's health and morals.  The only really spiteful fellow among them was
+a man named Jem Dadd.  He was a morose, sallow-looking man, of about
+forty, with a strong taste for the supernatural, and a stronger taste
+still for frightening his fellows with it.  I have seen Bill almost
+afraid to go on deck of a night for his trick at the wheel, after a few
+of his reminiscences.  Rats were a favourite topic with him, and he would
+never allow one to be killed if he could help it, for he claimed for them
+that they were the souls of drowned sailors, hence their love of ships
+and their habit of leaving them when they became unseaworthy.  He was a
+firm believer in the transmigration of souls, some idea of which he had,
+no doubt, picked up in Eastern ports, and gave his shivering auditors to
+understand that his arrangements for his own immediate future were
+already perfected.
+
+We were six or seven days out when a strange thing happened.  Dadd had
+the second watch one night, and Bill was to relieve him.  They were not
+very strict aboard the brig in fair weather, and when a man's time was
+up he just made the wheel fast, and, running for'ard, shouted down the
+fo'c's'le.  On this night I happened to awake suddenly, in time to see
+Bill slip out of his bunk and stand by me, rubbing his red eyelids with
+his knuckles.
+
+"Dadd's giving me a long time," he whispered, seeing that I was awake;
+"it's a whole hour after his time."
+
+He pattered up on deck, and I was just turning over, thankful that I was
+too young to have a watch to keep, when he came softly down again, and,
+taking me by the shoulders, shook me roughly.
+
+"Jack," he whispered.  "Jack."
+
+I raised myself on my elbows, and, in the light of the smoking lamp, saw
+that he was shaking all over.
+
+"Come on deck," he said, thickly.
+
+I put on my clothes, and followed him quietly to the sweet, cool air
+above.  It was a beautiful clear night, but, from his manner, I looked
+nervously around for some cause of alarm.  I saw nothing.  The deck was
+deserted, except for the solitary figure at the wheel.
+
+"Look at him," whispered Bill, bending a contorted face to mine.
+
+I walked aft a few steps, and Bill followed slowly.  Then I saw that Jem
+Dadd was leaning forward clumsily on the wheel, with his hands clenched
+on the spokes.
+
+"He's asleep," said I, stopping short.
+
+Bill breathed hard.  "He's in a queer sleep," said he; "kind o' trance
+more like.  Go closer."
+
+I took fast hold of Bill's sleeve, and we both went.  The light of the
+stars was sufficient to show that Dadd's face was very white, and that
+his dim, black eyes were wide open, and staring in a very strange and
+dreadful manner straight before him.
+
+"Dadd," said I, softly, "Dadd!"
+
+There was no reply, and, with a view of arousing him, I tapped one sinewy
+hand as it gripped the wheel, and even tried to loosen it.
+
+He remained immovable, and, suddenly with a great cry, my courage
+deserted me, and Bill and I fairly bolted down into the cabin and woke
+the skipper.
+
+Then we saw how it was with Jem, and two strong seamen forcibly loosened
+the grip of those rigid fingers, and, laying him on the deck, covered him
+with a piece of canvas.  The rest of the night two men stayed at the
+wheel, and, gazing fearfully at the outline of the canvas, longed for
+dawn.
+
+It came at last, and, breakfast over, the body was sewn up in canvas, and
+the skipper held a short service compiled from a Bible which belonged to
+the mate, and what he remembered of the Burial Service proper.  Then the
+corpse went overboard with a splash, and the men, after standing
+awkwardly together for a few minutes, slowly dispersed to their duties.
+
+For the rest of that day we were all very quiet and restrained; pity for
+the dead man being mingled with a dread of taking the wheel when night
+came.
+
+"The wheel's haunted," said the cook, solemnly; "mark my words, there's
+more of you will be took the same way Dadd was."
+
+The cook, like myself, had no watch to keep.
+
+The men bore up pretty well until night came on again, and then they
+unanimously resolved to have a double watch.  The cook, sorely against
+his will, was impressed into the service, and I, glad to oblige my
+patron, agreed to stay up with Bill.
+
+Some of the pleasure had vanished by the time night came, and I seemed
+only just to have closed my eyes when Bill came, and, with a rough shake
+or two, informed me that the time had come.  Any hope that I might have
+had of escaping the ordeal was at once dispelled by his expectant
+demeanour, and the helpful way in which he assisted me with my clothes,
+and, yawning terribly, I followed him on deck.
+
+The night was not so clear as the preceding one, and the air was chilly,
+with a little moisture in it.  I buttoned up my jacket, and thrust my
+hands in my pockets.
+
+"Everything quiet?" asked Bill as he stepped up and took the wheel.
+
+"Ay, ay," said Roberts, "quiet as the grave," and, followed by his
+willing mate, he went below.
+
+I sat on the deck by Bill's side as, with a light touch on the wheel,
+he kept the brig to her course.  It was weary work sitting there, doing
+nothing, and thinking of the warm berth below, and I believe that I
+should have fallen asleep, but that my watchful companion stirred me with
+his foot whenever he saw me nodding.
+
+I suppose I must have sat there, shivering and yawning, for about an
+hour, when, tired of inactivity, I got up and went and leaned over the
+side of the vessel.  The sound of the water gurgling and lapping by was
+so soothing that I began to doze.
+
+I was recalled to my senses by a smothered cry from Bill, and, running to
+him, I found him staring to port in an intense and uncomfortable fashion.
+At my approach, he took one hand from the wheel, and gripped my arm so
+tightly that I was like to have screamed with the pain of it.
+
+"Jack," said he, in a shaky voice, "while you was away something popped
+its head up, and looked over the ship's side."
+
+"You've been dreaming," said I, in a voice which was a very fair
+imitation of Bill's own.
+
+"Dreaming," repeated Bill, "dreaming!  Ah, look there!"
+
+He pointed with outstretched finger, and my heart seemed to stop beating
+as I saw a man's head appear above the side.  For a brief space it peered
+at us in silence, and then a dark figure sprang like a cat on to the
+deck, and stood crouching a short distance away.
+
+A mist came before my eyes, and my tongue failed me, but Bill let off a
+roar, such as I have never heard before or since.  It was answered from
+below, both aft and for'ard, and the men came running up on deck just as
+they left their beds.
+
+"What's up?" shouted the skipper, glancing aloft.
+
+For answer, Bill pointed to the intruder, and the men, who had just
+caught sight of him, came up and formed a compact knot by the wheel.
+
+"Come over the side, it did," panted Bill, "come over like a ghost out of
+the sea."
+
+The skipper took one of the small lamps from the binnacle, and, holding
+it aloft, walked boldly up to the cause of alarm.  In the little patch of
+light we saw a ghastly black-bearded man, dripping with water, regarding
+us with unwinking eyes, which glowed red in the light of the lamp.
+
+"Where did you come from?" asked the skipper.
+
+The figure shook its head.
+
+"Where did you come from?" he repeated, walking up, and laying his hand
+on the other's shoulder.
+
+Then the intruder spoke, but in a strange fashion and in strange words.
+We leaned forward to listen, but, even when he repeated them, we could
+make nothing of them.
+
+"He's a furriner," said Roberts.
+
+"Blest if I've ever 'eard the lingo afore," said Bill.  "Does anybody
+rekernize it?"
+
+Nobody did, and the skipper, after another attempt, gave it up, and,
+falling back upon the universal language of signs, pointed first to the
+man and then to the sea.  The other understood him, and, in a heavy,
+slovenly fashion, portrayed a man drifting in an open boat, and clutching
+and clambering up the side of a passing ship.  As his meaning dawned upon
+us, we rushed to the stern, and, leaning over, peered into the gloom, but
+the night was dark, and we saw nothing.
+
+"Well," said the skipper, turning to Bill, with a mighty yawn, "take him
+below, and give him some grub, and the next time a gentleman calls on
+you, don't make such a confounded row about it."
+
+He went below, followed by the mate, and after some slight hesitation,
+Roberts stepped up to the intruder, and signed to him to follow.  He came
+stolidly enough, leaving a trail of water on the deck, and, after
+changing into the dry things we gave him, fell to, but without much
+appearance of hunger, upon some salt beef and biscuits, regarding us
+between bites with black, lack-lustre eyes.
+
+"He seems as though he's a-walking in his sleep," said the cook.
+
+"He ain't very hungry," said one of the men; "he seems to mumble his
+food."
+
+"Hungry!" repeated Bill, who had just left the wheel.  "Course he ain't
+famished.  He had his tea last night."
+
+The men stared at him in bewilderment.
+
+"Don't you see?" said Bill, still in a hoarse whisper; "ain't you ever
+seen them eyes afore?  Don't you know what he used to say about dying?
+It's Jem Dadd come back to us.  Jem Dadd got another man's body, as he
+always said he would."
+
+"Rot!" said Roberts, trying to speak bravely, but he got up, and, with
+the others, huddled together at the end of the fo'c's'le, and stared in a
+bewildered fashion at the sodden face and short, squat figure of our
+visitor.  For his part, having finished his meal, he pushed his plate
+from him, and, leaning back on the locker, looked at the empty bunks.
+
+Roberts caught his eye, and, with a nod and a wave of his hand, indicated
+the bunks.  The fellow rose from the locker, and, amid a breathless
+silence, climbed into one of them--Jem Dadd's!
+
+He slept in the dead sailor's bed that night, the only man in the
+fo'c's'le who did sleep properly, and turned out heavily and lumpishly in
+the morning for breakfast.
+
+The skipper had him on deck after the meal, but could make nothing of
+him.  To all his questions he replied in the strange tongue of the night
+before, and, though our fellows had been to many ports, and knew a word
+or two of several languages, none of them recognized it.  The skipper
+gave it up at last, and, left to himself, he stared about him for some
+time, regardless of our interest in his movements, and then, leaning
+heavily against the side of the ship, stayed there so long that we
+thought he must have fallen asleep.
+
+"He's half-dead now!" whispered Roberts.
+
+"Hush!" said Bill, "mebbe he's been in the water a week or two, and can't
+quite make it out.  See how he's looking at it now."
+
+He stayed on deck all day in the sun, but, as night came on, returned to
+the warmth of the fo'c's'le.  The food we gave him remained untouched,
+and he took little or no notice of us, though I fancied that he saw the
+fear we had of him.  He slept again in the dead man's bunk, and when
+morning came still lay there.
+
+Until dinner-time, nobody interfered with him, and then Roberts, pushed
+forward by the others, approached him with some food.  He motioned, it
+away with a dirty, bloated hand, and, making signs for water, drank it
+eagerly.
+
+For two days he stayed there quietly, the black eyes always open, the
+stubby fingers always on the move.  On the third morning Bill, who had
+conquered his fear sufficiently to give him water occasionally, called
+softly to us.
+
+"Come and look at him," said he.  "What's the matter with him?"
+
+"He's dying!" said the cook, with a shudder.
+
+"He can't be going to die yet!" said Bill, blankly.
+
+As he spoke the man's eyes seemed to get softer and more life-like, and
+he looked at us piteously and helplessly.  From face to face he gazed in
+mute inquiry, and then, striking his chest feebly with his fist, uttered
+two words.
+
+We looked at each other blankly, and he repeated them eagerly, and again
+touched his chest.
+
+"It's his name," said the cook, and we all repeated them.
+
+He smiled in an exhausted fashion, and then, rallying his energies, held
+up a forefinger; as we stared at this new riddle, he lowered it, and held
+up all four fingers, doubled.
+
+"Come away," quavered the cook; "he's putting a spell on us."
+
+We drew back at that, and back farther still, as he repeated the motions.
+Then Bill's face cleared suddenly, and he stepped towards him.
+
+"He means his wife and younkers!" he shouted eagerly.  "This ain't no Jem
+Dadd!"
+
+It was good then to see how our fellows drew round the dying sailor, and
+strove to cheer him.  Bill, to show he understood the finger business,
+nodded cheerily, and held his hand at four different heights from the
+floor.  The last was very low, so low that the man set his lips together,
+and strove to turn his heavy head from us.
+
+"Poor devil!" said Bill, "he wants us to tell his wife and children
+what's become of him.  He must ha' been dying when he come aboard.  What
+was his name, again?"
+
+But the name was not easy to English lips, and we had already forgotten
+it.
+
+"Ask him again," said the cook, "and write it down.  Who's got a pen?"
+
+He went to look for one as Bill turned to the sailor to get him to repeat
+it.  Then he turned round again, and eyed us blankly, for, by this time,
+the owner had himself forgotten it.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg1137.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,394 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+A LOVER'S COMPLAINT
+
+by William Shakespeare
+
+
+
+
+  From off a hill whose concave womb reworded
+  A plaintful story from a sist'ring vale,
+  My spirits t'attend this double voice accorded,
+  And down I laid to list the sad-tuned tale,
+  Ere long espied a fickle maid full pale,
+  Tearing of papers, breaking rings atwain,
+  Storming her world with sorrow's wind and rain.
+
+  Upon her head a platted hive of straw,
+  Which fortified her visage from the sun,
+  Whereon the thought might think sometime it saw
+  The carcase of a beauty spent and done.
+  Time had not scythed all that youth begun,
+  Nor youth all quit, but spite of heaven's fell rage
+  Some beauty peeped through lattice of seared age.
+
+  Oft did she heave her napkin to her eyne,
+  Which on it had conceited characters,
+  Laund'ring the silken figures in the brine
+  That seasoned woe had pelleted in tears,
+  And often reading what contents it bears;
+  As often shrieking undistinguished woe,
+  In clamours of all size, both high and low.
+
+  Sometimes her levelled eyes their carriage ride,
+  As they did batt'ry to the spheres intend;
+  Sometime diverted their poor balls are tied
+  To th' orbed earth; sometimes they do extend
+  Their view right on; anon their gazes lend
+  To every place at once, and nowhere fixed,
+  The mind and sight distractedly commixed.
+
+  Her hair, nor loose nor tied in formal plat,
+  Proclaimed in her a careless hand of pride;
+  For some, untucked, descended her sheaved hat,
+  Hanging her pale and pined cheek beside;
+  Some in her threaden fillet still did bide,
+  And, true to bondage, would not break from thence,
+  Though slackly braided in loose negligence.
+
+  A thousand favours from a maund she drew
+  Of amber, crystal, and of beaded jet,
+  Which one by one she in a river threw,
+  Upon whose weeping margent she was set;
+  Like usury applying wet to wet,
+  Or monarchs' hands that lets not bounty fall
+  Where want cries some, but where excess begs all.
+
+  Of folded schedules had she many a one,
+  Which she perused, sighed, tore, and gave the flood;
+  Cracked many a ring of posied gold and bone,
+  Bidding them find their sepulchres in mud;
+  Found yet moe letters sadly penned in blood,
+  With sleided silk feat and affectedly
+  Enswathed and sealed to curious secrecy.
+
+  These often bathed she in her fluxive eyes,
+  And often kissed, and often 'gan to tear;
+  Cried, 'O false blood, thou register of lies,
+  What unapproved witness dost thou bear!
+  Ink would have seemed more black and damned here!
+  This said, in top of rage the lines she rents,
+  Big discontents so breaking their contents.
+
+  A reverend man that grazed his cattle nigh,
+  Sometime a blusterer that the ruffle knew
+  Of court, of city, and had let go by
+  The swiftest hours observed as they flew,
+  Towards this afflicted fancy fastly drew;
+  And, privileged by age, desires to know
+  In brief the grounds and motives of her woe.
+
+  So slides he down upon his grained bat,
+  And comely distant sits he by her side;
+  When he again desires her, being sat,
+  Her grievance with his hearing to divide.
+  If that from him there may be aught applied
+  Which may her suffering ecstasy assuage,
+  'Tis promised in the charity of age.
+
+  'Father,' she says, 'though in me you behold
+  The injury of many a blasting hour,
+  Let it not tell your judgement I am old:
+  Not age, but sorrow, over me hath power.
+  I might as yet have been a spreading flower,
+  Fresh to myself, if I had self-applied
+  Love to myself, and to no love beside.
+
+  'But woe is me! too early I attended
+  A youthful suit- it was to gain my grace-
+  O, one by nature's outwards so commended
+  That maidens' eyes stuck over all his face.
+  Love lacked a dwelling and made him her place;
+  And when in his fair parts she did abide,
+  She was new lodged and newly deified.
+
+  'His browny locks did hang in crooked curls;
+  And every light occasion of the wind
+  Upon his lips their silken parcels hurls.
+  What's sweet to do, to do will aptly find:
+  Each eye that saw him did enchant the mind;
+  For on his visage was in little drawn
+  What largeness thinks in Paradise was sawn.
+
+  'Small show of man was yet upon his chin;
+  His phoenix down began but to appear,
+  Like unshorn velvet, on that termless skin,
+  Whose bare out-bragged the web it seemed to wear:
+  Yet showed his visage by that cost more dear;
+  And nice affections wavering stood in doubt
+  If best were as it was, or best without.
+
+  'His qualities were beauteous as his form,
+  For maiden-tongued he was, and thereof free;
+  Yet if men moved him, was he such a storm
+  As oft 'twixt May and April is to see,
+  When winds breathe sweet, unruly though they be.
+  His rudeness so with his authorized youth
+  Did livery falseness in a pride of truth.
+
+  'Well could he ride, and often men would say,
+  "That horse his mettle from his rider takes:
+  Proud of subjection, noble by the sway,
+  What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop he makes!"
+  And controversy hence a question takes
+  Whether the horse by him became his deed,
+  Or he his manage by th' well-doing steed.
+
+  'But quickly on this side the verdict went:
+  His real habitude gave life and grace
+  To appertainings and to ornament,
+  Accomplished in himself, not in his case,
+  All aids, themselves made fairer by their place,
+  Came for additions; yet their purposed trim
+  Pierced not his grace, but were all graced by him.
+
+  'So on the tip of his subduing tongue
+  All kind of arguments and question deep,
+  All replication prompt, and reason strong,
+  For his advantage still did wake and sleep.
+  To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep,
+  He had the dialect and different skill,
+  Catching all passions in his craft of will,
+
+  'That he did in the general bosom reign
+  Of young, of old, and sexes both enchanted,
+  To dwell with him in thoughts, or to remain
+  In personal duty, following where he haunted.
+  Consents bewitched, ere he desire, have granted,
+  And dialogued for him what he would say,
+  Asked their own wills, and made their wills obey.
+
+  'Many there were that did his picture get,
+  To serve their eyes, and in it put their mind;
+  Like fools that in th' imagination set
+  The goodly objects which abroad they find
+  Of lands and mansions, theirs in thought assigned;
+  And labouring in moe pleasures to bestow them
+  Than the true gouty landlord which doth owe them.
+
+  'So many have, that never touched his hand,
+  Sweetly supposed them mistress of his heart.
+  My woeful self, that did in freedom stand,
+  And was my own fee-simple, not in part,
+  What with his art in youth, and youth in art,
+  Threw my affections in his charmed power
+  Reserved the stalk and gave him all my flower.
+
+  'Yet did I not, as some my equals did,
+  Demand of him, nor being desired yielded;
+  Finding myself in honour so forbid,
+  With safest distance I mine honour shielded.
+  Experience for me many bulwarks builded
+  Of proofs new-bleeding, which remained the foil
+  Of this false jewel, and his amorous spoil.
+
+  'But ah, who ever shunned by precedent
+  The destined ill she must herself assay?
+  Or forced examples, 'gainst her own content,
+  To put the by-past perils in her way?
+  Counsel may stop awhile what will not stay;
+  For when we rage, advice is often seen
+  By blunting us to make our wills more keen.
+
+  'Nor gives it satisfaction to our blood
+  That we must curb it upon others' proof,
+  To be forbod the sweets that seems so good
+  For fear of harms that preach in our behoof.
+  O appetite, from judgement stand aloof!
+  The one a palate hath that needs will taste,
+  Though Reason weep, and cry it is thy last.
+
+  'For further I could say this man's untrue,
+  And knew the patterns of his foul beguiling;
+  Heard where his plants in others' orchards grew;
+  Saw how deceits were gilded in his smiling;
+  Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling;
+  Thought characters and words merely but art,
+  And bastards of his foul adulterate heart.
+
+  'And long upon these terms I held my city,
+  Till thus he 'gan besiege me: "Gentle maid,
+  Have of my suffering youth some feeling pity,
+  And be not of my holy vows afraid.
+  That's to ye sworn to none was ever said;
+  For feasts of love I have been called unto,
+  Till now did ne'er invite nor never woo.
+
+  '"All my offences that abroad you see
+  Are errors of the blood, none of the mind;
+  Love made them not; with acture they may be,
+  Where neither party is nor true nor kind.
+  They sought their shame that so their shame did find;
+  And so much less of shame in me remains
+  By how much of me their reproach contains.
+
+  '"Among the many that mine eyes have seen,
+  Not one whose flame my heart so much as warmed,
+  Or my affection put to th' smallest teen,
+  Or any of my leisures ever charmed.
+  Harm have I done to them, but ne'er was harmed;
+  Kept hearts in liveries, but mine own was free,
+  And reigned commanding in his monarchy.
+
+  '"Look here what tributes wounded fancies sent me,
+  Of paled pearls and rubies red as blood;
+  Figuring that they their passions likewise lent me
+  Of grief and blushes, aptly understood
+  In bloodless white and the encrimsoned mood-
+  Effects of terror and dear modesty,
+  Encamped in hearts, but fighting outwardly.
+
+  '"And, lo, behold these talents of their hair,
+  With twisted metal amorously empleached,
+  I have receiv'd from many a several fair,
+  Their kind acceptance weepingly beseeched,
+  With the annexions of fair gems enriched,
+  And deep-brained sonnets that did amplify
+  Each stone's dear nature, worth, and quality.
+
+  '"The diamond? why, 'twas beautiful and hard,
+  Whereto his invised properties did tend;
+  The deep-green em'rald, in whose fresh regard
+  Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend;
+  The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend
+  With objects manifold; each several stone,
+  With wit well blazoned, smiled, or made some moan.
+
+  '"Lo, all these trophies of affections hot,
+  Of pensived and subdued desires the tender,
+  Nature hath charged me that I hoard them not,
+  But yield them up where I myself must render-
+  That is, to you, my origin and ender;
+  For these, of force, must your oblations be,
+  Since I their altar, you enpatron me.
+
+  '"O then advance of yours that phraseless hand
+  Whose white weighs down the airy scale of praise;
+  Take all these similes to your own command,
+  Hallowed with sighs that burning lungs did raise;
+  What me your minister for you obeys
+  Works under you; and to your audit comes
+  Their distract parcels in combined sums.
+
+  '"Lo, this device was sent me from a nun,
+  Or sister sanctified, of holiest note,
+  Which late her noble suit in court did shun,
+  Whose rarest havings made the blossoms dote;
+  For she was sought by spirits of richest coat,
+  But kept cold distance, and did thence remove
+  To spend her living in eternal love.
+
+  '"But, O my sweet, what labour is't to leave
+  The thing we have not, mast'ring what not strives,
+  Playing the place which did no form receive,
+  Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves!
+  She that her fame so to herself contrives,
+  The scars of battle scapeth by the flight,
+  And makes her absence valiant, not her might.
+
+  '"O pardon me in that my boast is true!
+  The accident which brought me to her eye
+  Upon the moment did her force subdue,
+  And now she would the caged cloister fly.
+  Religious love put out religion's eye.
+  Not to be tempted, would she be immured,
+  And now to tempt all liberty procured.
+
+  '"How mighty then you are, O hear me tell!
+  The broken bosoms that to me belong
+  Have emptied all their fountains in my well,
+  And mine I pour your ocean all among.
+  I strong o'er them, and you o'er me being strong,
+  Must for your victory us all congest,
+  As compound love to physic your cold breast.
+
+  '"My parts had pow'r to charm a sacred nun,
+  Who, disciplined, ay, dieted in grace,
+  Believed her eyes when they t'assail begun,
+  All vows and consecrations giving place,
+  O most potential love, vow, bond, nor space,
+  In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine,
+  For thou art all, and all things else are thine.
+
+  '"When thou impressest, what are precepts worth
+  Of stale example? When thou wilt inflame,
+  How coldly those impediments stand forth,
+  Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame!
+  Love's arms are peace, 'gainst rule, 'gainst sense, 'gainst
+shame.
+  And sweetens, in the suff'ring pangs it bears,
+  The aloes of all forces, shocks and fears.
+
+  '"Now all these hearts that do on mine depend,
+  Feeling it break, with bleeding groans they pine,
+  And supplicant their sighs to your extend,
+  To leave the batt'ry that you make 'gainst mine,
+  Lending soft audience to my sweet design,
+  And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath,
+  That shall prefer and undertake my troth."
+
+  'This said, his wat'ry eyes he did dismount,
+  Whose sights till then were levelled on my face;
+  Each cheek a river running from a fount
+  With brinish current downward flowed apace.
+  O, how the channel to the stream gave grace!
+  Who glazed with crystal gate the glowing roses
+  That flame through water which their hue encloses.
+
+  'O father, what a hell of witchcraft lies
+  In the small orb of one particular tear!
+  But with the inundation of the eyes
+  What rocky heart to water will not wear?
+  What breast so cold that is not warmed here?
+  O cleft effect! cold modesty, hot wrath,
+  Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath.
+
+  'For lo, his passion, but an art of craft,
+  Even there resolved my reason into tears;
+  There my white stole of chastity I daffed,
+  Shook off my sober guards and civil fears;
+  Appear to him as he to me appears,
+  All melting; though our drops this diff'rence bore:
+  His poisoned me, and mine did him restore.
+
+  'In him a plenitude of subtle matter,
+  Applied to cautels, all strange forms receives,
+  Of burning blushes or of weeping water,
+  Or swooning paleness; and he takes and leaves,
+  In either's aptness, as it best deceives,
+  To blush at speeches rank, to weep at woes,
+  Or to turn white and swoon at tragic shows;
+
+  'That not a heart which in his level came
+  Could scape the hail of his all-hurting aim,
+  Showing fair nature is both kind and tame;
+  And, veiled in them, did win whom he would maim.
+  Against the thing he sought he would exclaim;
+  When he most burned in heart-wished luxury,
+  He preached pure maid and praised cold chastity.
+
+  'Thus merely with the garment of a Grace
+  The naked and concealed fiend he covered,
+  That th' unexperient gave the tempter place,
+  Which, like a cherubin, above them hovered.
+  Who, young and simple, would not be so lovered?
+  Ay me, I fell, and yet do question make
+  What I should do again for such a sake.
+
+  'O, that infected moisture of his eye,
+  O, that false fire which in his cheek so glowed,
+  O, that forced thunder from his heart did fly,
+  O, that sad breath his spongy lungs bestowed,
+  O, all that borrowed motion, seeming owed,
+  Would yet again betray the fore-betrayed,
+  And new pervert a reconciled maid.'
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+

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+
+
+DEEP WATERS
+
+By W.W. JACOBS
+
+
+
+CONTENTS:
+  BEDRIDDEN
+  THE WINTER OFFENSIVE
+
+
+
+BEDRIDDEN
+
+July 12, 1915.--Disquieting rumours to the effect that epidemic of
+Billetitis hitherto confined to the north of King's Road shows signs of
+spreading.
+
+July 14.--Report that two Inns of Court men have been seen peeping over
+my gate.
+
+July 16.--Informed that soldier of agreeable appearance and charming
+manners requests interview with me.  Took a dose of Phospherine and went.
+Found composite photograph of French, Joffre, and Hindenburg waiting for
+me in the hall.  Smiled (he did, I mean) and gave me the mutilated form
+of salute reserved for civilians.  Introduced himself as Quartermaster-
+Sergeant Beddem, and stated that the Inns of Court O.T.C.  was going
+under canvas next week.  After which he gulped.  Meantime could I take in
+a billet.  Questioned as to what day the corps was going into camp said
+that he believed it was Monday, but was not quite sure--might possibly be
+Tuesday.  Swallowed again and coughed a little.  Accepted billet and felt
+completely re-warded by smile.  Q.M.S.  bade me good-bye, and then with
+the air of a man suddenly remembering something, asked me whether I could
+take two.  Excused myself and interviewed my C.O. behind the dining-room
+door.  Came back and accepted.  Q.M.S.  so overjoyed (apparently) that he
+fell over the scraper.  Seemed to jog his memory.  He paused, and gazing
+in absent fashion at the topmost rose on the climber in the porch, asked
+whether I could take three!  Added hopefully that the third was only a
+boy.  Excused myself.  Heated debate with C.O.  Subject: sheets.
+Returned with me to explain to the Q.M.S.  He smiled.  C.O. accepted at
+once, and, returning smile, expressed regret at size and position of
+bedrooms available.  Q.M.S. went off swinging cane jauntily.
+
+July 17.--Billets arrived.  Spoke to them about next Monday and canvas.
+They seemed surprised.  Strange how the military authorities decline to
+take men into their confidence merely because they are privates.  Let
+them upstairs.  They went (for first and last time) on tiptoe.
+
+July 18.--Saw Q.M.S. Beddem in the town.  Took shelter in the King's
+Arms.
+
+Jug.  3.--Went to Cornwall.
+
+Aug.  31.--Returned.  Billets received me very hospitably.
+
+Sept.  4.--Private Budd, electrical engineer, dissatisfied with
+appearance of bell-push in dining-room, altered it.
+
+Sept.  5.--Bells out of order.
+
+Sept.  6.--Private Merited, also an electrical engineer, helped Private
+Budd to repair bells.
+
+Sept.  7.--Private Budd helped Private Merited to repair bells.
+
+Sept.  8.--Privates Budd and Merited helped each other to repair bells.
+
+Sept.  9.--Sent to local tradesman to put my bells in order.
+
+Sept.  15.--Told that Q.M.S.  Beddem wished to see me.  Saw C.O. first.
+She thought he had possibly come to take some of the billets away.
+Q.M.S. met my approach with a smile that re-minded me vaguely of picture-
+postcards I had seen.  Awfully sorry to trouble me, but Private Montease,
+just back from three weeks' holiday with bronchitis, was sleeping in the
+wood-shed on three planks and a tin-tack.  Beamed at me and waited.  Went
+and bought another bed-stead.
+
+Sept.  16.--Private Montease and a cough entered into residence.
+
+Sept.  17, 11.45 p.m.--Maid came to bedroom-door with some cough lozenges
+which she asked me to take to the new billet.  Took them.  Private
+Montease thanked me, but said he didn't mind coughing.  Said it was an
+heirloom; Montease cough, known in highest circles all over Scotland
+since time of Young Pretender.
+
+Sept.  20.--Private Montease installed in easy-chair in dining-room with
+touch of bronchitis, looking up trains to Bournemouth.
+
+Sept.  21.--Private Montease in bed all day.  Cook anxious "to do her
+bit" rubbed his chest with home-made embrocation.  Believe it is same
+stuff she rubs chests in hall with.  Smells the same anyway.
+
+Sept.  24.--Private Montease, complaining of slight rawness of chest, but
+otherwise well, returned to duty.
+
+Oct.  5.--Cough worse again.  Private Montease thinks that with care it
+may turn to bronchitis.  Borrowed an A.B.C.
+
+Oct.  6.--Private Montease relates uncanny experience.  Woke up with
+feeling of suffocation to find an enormous black-currant and glycerine
+jujube wedged in his gullet.  Never owned such a thing in his life.
+Seems to be unaware that he always sleeps with his mouth open.
+
+Nov.  14.--Private Bowser, youngest and tallest of my billets, gazetted.
+
+Nov.  15, 10.35 a.m.--Private Bowser in tip-top spirits said good-bye to
+us all.
+
+10.45.--Told that Q.M.S.  Beddem desired to see me.  Capitulated.  New
+billet, Private Early, armed to the teeth, turned up in the evening.
+Said that he was a Yorkshireman.  Said that Yorkshire was the finest
+county in England, and Yorkshiremen the finest men in the world.  Stood
+toying with his bayonet and waiting for contradiction.
+
+Jan.  5, 1916.--Standing in the garden just after lunch was witness to
+startling phenomenon.  Q.M.S.  Beddem came towards front-gate with a
+smile so expansive that gate after first trembling violently on its
+hinges swung open of its own accord.  Q.M.S., with smile (sad), said he
+was in trouble.  Very old member of the Inns of Court, Private Keen, had
+re-joined, and he wanted a good billet for him.  Would cheerfully give up
+his own bed, but it wasn't long enough.  Not to be outdone in hospitality
+by my own gate accepted Private Keen.  Q.M.S.  digging hole in my path
+with toe of right boot, and for first and only time manifesting signs of
+nervousness, murmured that two life-long friends of Private Keen's had
+rejoined with him.  Known as the Three Inseparables.  Where they were to
+sleep, unless I----.  Fled to house, and locking myself in top-attic
+watched Q.M.S. from window.  He departed with bent head and swagger-cane
+reversed.
+
+Jan 6.--Private Keen arrived.  Turned out to be son of an old Chief of
+mine.  Resolved not to visit the sins of the father on the head of a
+child six feet two high and broad in proportion.
+
+Feb.  6.--Private Keen came home with a temperature.
+
+Feb.  7.--M.O. diagnosed influenza.  Was afraid it would spread.
+
+Feb.  8.--Warned the other four billets.  They seemed amused.  Pointed
+out that influenza had no terrors for men in No. 2 Company, who were
+doomed to weekly night-ops. under Major Carryon.
+
+Feb.  9.--House strangely and pleasantly quiet.  Went to see how Private
+Keen was progressing, and found the other four billets sitting in a row
+on his bed practising deep-breathing exercises.
+
+Feb.  16.--Billets on night-ops. until late hour.  Spoke in highest terms
+of Major Carryon's marching powers--also in other terms.
+
+March 3.--Waited up until midnight for Private Merited, who had gone to
+Slough on his motor-bike.
+
+March 4, 1.5 a.m.--Awakened by series of explosions from over-worked, or
+badly-worked, motor-bike.  Put head out of window and threw key to
+Private Merited.  He seemed excited.  Said he had been chased all the way
+from Chesham by a pink rat with yellow spots.  Advised him to go to bed.
+Set him an example.
+
+1.10.  a.m.--Heard somebody in the pantry.  2.10.  a.m.--Heard Private
+Merited going upstairs to bed.
+
+2.16 a.m.--Heard Private Merited still going upstairs to bed.
+
+2.20-3.15.  a.m.--Heard Private Merited getting to bed.
+
+April 3, 12.30 a.m.--Town-hooter announced Zeppelins and excited soldier
+called up my billets from their beds to go and frighten them off.
+Pleasant to see superiority of billets over the hooter: that only emitted
+three blasts.
+
+12.50 a.m.--Billets returned with exception of Private Merited, who was
+retained for sake of his motor-bike.
+
+9 a.m.--On way to bath-room ran into Private Merited, who, looking very
+glum and sleepy, inquired whether I had a copy of the Exchange and Mart
+in the house.
+
+10 p.m.--Overheard billets discussing whether it was worth while removing
+boots before going to bed until the Zeppelin scare was over.  Joined in
+discussion.
+
+May 2.--Rumours that the Inns of Court were going under canvas.
+Discredited them.
+
+May 5.--Rumours grow stronger.
+
+May 6.--Billets depressed.  Begin to think perhaps there is something in
+rumours after all.
+
+May 9.-All doubts removed.  Tents begin to spring up with the suddenness
+of mushrooms in fields below Berkhamsted Place.
+
+May 18, LIBERATION DAY.--Bade a facetious good-bye to my billets;
+response lacking in bonhomie.
+
+May 19.-House delightfully quiet.  Presented caller of unkempt appearance
+at back-door with remains of pair of military boots, three empty shaving-
+stick tins, and a couple of partially bald tooth-brushes.
+
+May 21.--In afternoon went round and looked at camp.  Came home smiling,
+and went to favourite seat in garden to smoke.  Discovered Private Early
+lying on it fast asleep.  Went to study.  Private Merited at table
+writing long and well-reasoned letter to his tailor.  As he said he could
+never write properly with anybody else in the room, left him and went to
+bath-room.  Door locked.  Peevish but familiar voice, with a Scotch
+accent, asked me what I wanted; also complained of temperature of water.
+
+May 22.--After comparing notes with neighbours, feel deeply grateful to
+Q.M.S.  Beddem for sending me the best six men in the corps.
+
+July 15.--Feel glad to have been associated, however remotely and humbly,
+with a corps, the names of whose members appear on the Roll of Honour of
+every British regiment.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE WINTER OFFENSIVE
+
+_N.B.--Having regard to the eccentricities of the Law of Libel it must be
+distinctly understood that the following does not refer to the
+distinguished officer, Lieut.  Troup Horne, of the Inns of Court.
+Anybody trying to cause mischief between a civilian of eight stone and a
+soldier of seventeen by a statement to the contrary will hear from my
+solicitors._
+
+
+Aug.  29, 1916.--We returned from the sea to find our house still our
+own, and the military still in undisputed possession of the remains of
+the grass in the fields of Berkhamsted Place.  As in previous years, it
+was impossible to go in search of wild-flowers without stumbling over
+sleeping members of the Inns of Court; but war is war, and we grumble as
+little as possible.
+
+Sept.  28.--Unpleasant rumours to the effect that several members of the
+Inns of Court had attributed cases of curvature of the spine to sleeping
+on ground that had been insufficiently rolled.  Also that they had been
+heard to smack their lips and speak darkly of featherbeds.  Respected
+neighbour of gloomy disposition said that if Pharaoh were still alive he
+could suggest an eleventh plague to him beside which frogs and flies were
+an afternoon's diversion.
+
+Oct.  3.--Householders of Berkhamsted busy mending bedsteads broken by
+last year's billets, and buying patent taps for their beer-barrels.
+
+Oct.  15.--Informed that a representative of the Army wished to see me.
+Instead of my old friend Q.M.S. Beddem, who generally returns to life at
+this time of year, found that it was an officer of magnificent presence
+and two pips.  A fine figure of a man, with a great resemblance to the
+late lamented Bismarck, minus the moustache and the three hairs on the
+top of the head.  Asked him to be seated.  He selected a chair that was
+all arms and legs and no hips to speak of and crushed himself into it.
+After which he unfastened his belt and "swelled wisibly afore my werry
+eyes."  Said that his name was True Born and asked if it made any
+difference to me whether I had one officer or half-a-dozen men billeted
+on me.  Said that he was the officer, and that as the rank-and-file were
+not allowed to pollute the same atmosphere, thought I should score.
+After a mental review of all I could remember of the Weights and Measures
+Table, accepted him.  He bade a lingering farewell to the chair, and
+departed.
+
+Oct.  16.--Saw Q.M.S.  Beddem on the other side of the road and gave him
+an absolutely new thrill by crossing to meet him.  Asked diffidently--as
+diffidently as he could, that is--how many men my house would hold.
+Replied eight--or ten at a pinch.  He gave me a surprised and beaming
+smile and whipped out a huge note-book.  Informed him with as much regret
+as I could put into a voice not always under perfect control, that I had
+already got an officer.  Q.M.S., favouring me with a look very
+appropriate to the Devil's Own, turned on his heel and set off in pursuit
+of a lady-billetee, pulling up short on the threshold of the baby-linen
+shop in which she took refuge.  Left him on guard with a Casablanca-like
+look on his face.
+
+Nov.  1.--Lieut. True Born took up his quarters with us.  Gave him my
+dressing-room for bedchamber.  Was awakened several times in the night by
+what I took to be Zeppelins, flying low.
+
+Nov.  2.--Lieut. True Born offered to bet me five pounds to twenty that
+the war would be over by 1922.
+
+Nov.  3.--Offered to teach me auction-bridge.
+
+Nov.  4.--Asked me whether I could play "shove ha'penny."
+
+Nov.  10.--Lieut. True Born gave one of the regimental horses a riding-
+lesson.  Came home grumpy and went to bed early.
+
+Nov.  13.--Another riding-lesson.  Over-heard him asking one of the
+maids whether there was such a thing as a water-bed in the house.
+
+Nov.  17.--Complained bitterly of horse-copers.  Said that his poor mount
+was discovered to be suffering from saddle-soreness, broken wind,
+splints, weak hocks, and two bones of the neck out of place.
+
+Dec.  9.--7 p.m.--One of last year's billets, Private Merited, on leave
+from a gunnery course, called to see me and to find out whether his old
+bed had improved since last year.  Left his motor-bike in the garage, and
+the smell in front of the dining-room window.
+
+8 to 12 p.m.--Sat with Private Merited, listening to Lieut. True Born on
+the mistakes of Wellington.
+
+12.5 a.m.--Rose to go to bed.  Was about to turn out gas in hall when I
+discovered the lieutenant standing with his face to the wall playing pat-
+a-cake with it.  Gave him three-parts of a tumbler of brandy.  Said he
+felt better and went upstairs.  Arrived in his bed-room, he looked about
+him carefully, and then, with a superb sweep of his left arm, swept the
+best Chippendale looking-glass in the family off the dressing table and
+dived face down-wards to the floor, missing death and the corner of the
+chest of drawers by an inch.
+
+12:15 a.m.--Rolled him on to his back and got his feet on the bed.  They
+fell off again as soon as they were cleaner than the quilt.  The
+lieutenant, startled by the crash, opened his eyes and climbed into bed
+unaided.
+
+12.20 a.m.--Sent Private Merited for the M.O., Captain Geranium.
+
+12.25 a.m.--Mixed a dose of brandy and castor-oil in a tumbler.  Am told
+it slips down like an oyster that way--bad oyster, I should think.
+Lieut. True Born jibbed.  Reminded him that England expects that every
+man will take his castor-oil.  Reply unprintable.  Apologized a moment
+later.  Said that his mind was wandering and that he thought he was a
+colonel.  Reassured him.
+
+12.40 a.m.--Private Merited returned with the M.O.  Latter nicely dressed
+in musical-comedy pyjamas of ravishing hue, and great-coat, with rose-
+tinted feet thrust into red morocco slippers.  Held consultation and
+explained my treatment.  M.O. much impressed, anxious to know whether I
+was a doctor.  Told him "No," but that I knew all the ropes.  First give
+patient castor-oil, then diet him and call every day to make sure that he
+doesn't like his food.  After that, if he shows signs of getting well too
+soon, give him a tonic.  .  .  .  M.O. stuffy.
+
+Dec.  10.--M.O. diagnosed attack as due to something which True Born
+believes to be tobacco, with which he disinfects the house, the
+mess-sheds, and the streets of Berkhamsted.
+
+Dec.  11.--True Born, shorn of thirteen pipes a day out of sixteen,
+disparages the whole race of M.O.'s.
+
+Dec.  14.--He obtains leave to attend wedding of a great-aunt and
+ransacks London for a specialist who advocates strong tobacco.
+
+Dec.  15.--He classes specialists with M.O.'s.  Is surprised (and
+apparently disappointed) that, so far, the breaking of the looking-glass
+has brought me no ill-luck.  Feel somewhat uneasy myself until glass is
+repaired by local cabinet-maker.
+
+Jan.  10, 1917.--Lieut. True Born starts to break in another horse.
+
+Feb.  1.--Horse broken.
+
+March 3.--Running short of tobacco, go to my billet's room and try a pipe
+of his.  Take all the remedies except the castor-oil.
+
+April 4, 8.30 a.m.--Awakened by an infernal crash and discover that my
+poor looking-glass is in pieces again on the floor.  True Born explains
+that its position, between the open door and the open window, was too
+much for it.  Don't believe a word of it.  Shall believe to my dying day
+that it burst in a frantic but hopeless attempt to tell Lieut. True Born
+the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
+
+April 6.--The lieutenant watching for some sign of misfortune to me.
+Says that I can't break a mirror twice without ill-luck following it.
+Me!
+
+April 9.--Lieut. True Born comes up to me with a face full of conflicting
+emotions.  "Your ill-luck has come at last," he says with gloomy
+satisfaction.  "We go under canvas on the 23rd.  You are losing me!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Bedridden and The Winter Offensive, by W.W. Jacobs
+
+
+

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+
+
+Copyright (C) 2004 www.FaithofGod.net
+
+
+
+Copyright (C) www.FaithofGod.net
+May be quoted and used freely in all non-lucre, non-commercial Scripture
+distribution endeavors provided the content is not altered.
+
+The Story of the prophet Jonas first translated from Hebrew to English
+by William Tyndale, published in 1531.  This edition has the same wording,
+but modernized spelling.
+
+
+
+The Story of the prophet Jonas.
+
+The first Chapter.
+
+        The word of the lord came unto the prophet Jonas the son of
+Amithai saying: rise and get thee to Nineve that great city and preach
+unto them, how that their wickedness is come up before me.
+
+        And Jonas made him ready to flee to Tharsis from the presence
+of the lord, and gat him down to Joppe, and found there a ship ready to
+go to Tharsis, and paid his fare, and went aboard, to go with them to
+Tharsis from the presence of the lord.
+
+        But the lord hurled a great wind in to the sea, so that there
+was a mighty tempest in the sea: insomuch that the ship was like to go
+in pieces. And the mariners were afraid and cried every man unto his
+god, and cast out the goods that were in the ship in to the sea, to
+lighten it of them. But Jonas gat him under the hatches and laid him
+down and slumbered. And the master of the ship came to him and said
+unto him, why slumberest thou? up! and call unto thy god, that God may
+think on us, that we perish not.
+
+        And they said one to another, come and let us cast lots, to
+know for whose cause we are thus troubled. And they cast lots. And the
+lot fell upon Jonas.
+
+        Then they said unto him, tell us for whose cause we are thus
+troubled: what is thine occupation, whence comest thou, how is thy
+country called, and of what nation art thou?
+
+        And he answered them, I am an Hebrew: and the lord God of
+heaven which made both sea and dry land, I fear. Then were the men
+exceedingly afraid and said unto him, why didst thou so? For they knew
+that he was fled from the presence of the lord, because he had told
+them.
+
+        Then they unto him, what shall we do unto thee, that the sea
+may cease from troubling us? For the sea wrought and was troublous. And
+he answered them, take me and cast me in to the sea, and so shall it
+let you be in rest: for I wot, it is for my sake, that this great
+tempest is come upon you. Nevertheless the men assayed with rowing to
+bring the ship to land: but it would not be, because the sea so wrought
+and was so troublous against them. Wherefore they cried unto the lord
+and said: O lord let us not perish for this mans death, neither lay
+innocent blood unto our charge: for thou lord even as thy pleasure was,
+so thou hast done.
+
+        And then they took Jonas, and cast him into the sea, and the
+sea left raging. And the men feared the lord exceedingly: and
+sacrificed sacrifice unto the lord: and vowed vows.
+
+The second Chapter.
+
+        But the lord prepared a great fish, to swallow up Jonas. And so
+was Jonas in the bowels of the fish three days and three nights. And
+Jonas prayed unto the lord his god out of the bowels of the fish.
+
+        And he said: in my tribulation I called unto the lord, and he
+answered me: out of the belly of hell I cried, and thou heardest my
+voice. For thou hadst cast me down deep in the midst of the se: and the
+flood compassed me about: and all thy waves and rolls of water went
+over me: and I thought that I had been cast away out of thy sight. But
+I will yet again look toward thy holy temple. The water compassed me
+even unto the very soul of me: the deep lay about me: and the weeds
+were wrapped about mine head. And I went down unto the bottom of the
+hills, and was barred in with earth on every side for ever. And yet
+thou lord my God broughtest up my life again out of corruption. When my
+soul fainted in me, I thought on the lord: and my prayer came in unto
+thee, even into thy holy temple. They that observe vain vanities, have
+forsaken him that was merciful unto them. But I will sacrifice unto
+thee with the voice of thanksgiving, and will pay that that I have
+vowed, that saving cometh of the lord.
+
+        And the lord spake unto the fish: and it cast out Jonas again
+upon the dry land.
+
+The third Chapter.
+
+        Then came the word of the lord unto Jonas again saying: up, and
+get thee to Nineve that great city, and preach unto them the preaching
+which I bade thee. And he arose and went to Nineve at the lordes
+commandment. Nineve was a great city unto God, containing three days
+journey.
+
+        And Jonas went to and entered in to the city even a days
+journey, and cried saying: There shall not pass forty days but Nineve
+shall be overthrown.
+
+        And the people of Nineve believed God, and proclaimed fasting,
+and arrayed themselves in sackcloth, as well the great as the small of
+them.
+
+        And the tidings came unto the king of Nineve, which arose out
+of his seat, and did his apparel off and put on sackcloth, and sat him
+down in ashes. And it was cried and commanded in Nineve by the
+authority of the king and of his lords saying: see that neither man or
+beast, ox or sheep taste ought at all, and that they neither feed or
+drink water.
+
+        And they put on sackcloth both man and beast, and cried unto
+God mightily, and turned every man his wicked way, and from doing wrong
+in which they were accustomed, saying: who can tell whether God will
+turn and repent, and cease from his fierce wrath, that we perish not?
+And when God saw their works, how they turned from their wicked ways,
+he repented of the evil which he said he would do unto them, and did it
+not.
+
+The fourth Chapter.
+
+        Wherefore Jonas was sore discontent and angry. And he prayed
+unto the lord and said: O lord, was not this my saying when I was yet
+in my country? And therefore I hasted rather to flee to Tharsis: for I
+knew well enough that thou wast a merciful god, full of compassion,
+long ere thou be angry and of great mercy and repentest when thou art
+come to take punishment. Now therefore take my life from me, for I had
+lever die than live. And the lord said unto Jonas, art thou so angry?
+
+        And Jonas gat him out of the city and sat him down on the east
+side thereof, and made him there a booth and sat thereunder in the
+shadow, till he might see what should chance unto the city.
+
+        And the lord prepared as it were a wild vine which sprang up
+over Jonas, that he might have shadow over his head, to deliver him out
+of his pain. And Jonas was exceeding glad of the wild vine.
+
+        And the lord ordained a worm against the spring of the morrow
+morning which smote the wild vine that it withered away. And as soon
+as the son was up, God prepared a fervent east wind: so that the son
+beat over the head of Jonas, that he fainted again and wished unto his
+soul that he might die, and said, it is better for me to die than to
+live.
+
+        And God said unto Jonas, art thou so angry for thy wild vine?
+And he said, I am angry a good, even on to the death. And the lord
+said, thou hast compassion on a wild vine, whereon thou bestowedest no
+labour nor made it grow, which sprang up in one night and perished in
+another: and should not I have compassion on Nineve that great city,
+wherein there is a multitude of people, even above an hundred thousand
+that know not their right hand from the left, besides much cattle?
+
+
+

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+
+
+THE LADY OF THE BARGE
+
+AND OTHER STORIES
+
+By W. W. Jacobs
+
+
+
+
+THREE AT TABLE
+
+
+The talk in the coffee-room had been of ghosts and apparitions, and
+nearly everybody present had contributed his mite to the stock of
+information upon a hazy and somewhat thread-bare subject.  Opinions
+ranged from rank incredulity to childlike faith, one believer going so
+far as to denounce unbelief as impious, with a reference to the Witch of
+Endor, which was somewhat marred by being complicated in an inexplicable
+fashion with the story of Jonah.
+
+"Talking of Jonah," he said solemnly, with a happy disregard of the fact
+that he had declined to answer several eager questions put to him on the
+subject, "look at the strange tales sailors tell us."
+
+"I wouldn't advise you to believe all those," said a bluff, clean-shaven
+man, who had been listening without speaking much.  "You see when a
+sailor gets ashore he's expected to have something to tell, and his
+friends would be rather disappointed if he had not."
+
+"It's a well-known fact," interrupted the first speaker firmly, "that
+sailors are very prone to see visions."
+
+"They are," said the other dryly, "they generally see them in pairs, and
+the shock to the nervous system frequently causes headache next morning."
+
+"You never saw anything yourself?"  suggested an unbeliever.
+
+"Man and boy," said the other, "I've been at sea thirty years, and the
+only unpleasant incident of that kind occurred in a quiet English
+countryside."
+
+"And that?"  said another man.
+
+"I was a young man at the time," said the narrator, drawing at his pipe
+and glancing good-humouredly at the company.  "I had just come back from
+China, and my own people being away I went down into the country to
+invite myself to stay with an uncle.  When I got down to the place I
+found it closed and the family in the South of France; but as they were
+due back in a couple of days I decided to put up at the Royal George,
+a very decent inn, and await their return.
+
+"The first day I passed well enough; but in the evening the dulness of
+the rambling old place, in which I was the only visitor, began to weigh
+upon my spirits, and the next morning after a late breakfast I set out
+with the intention of having a brisk day's walk.
+
+"I started off in excellent spirits, for the day was bright and frosty,
+with a powdering of snow on the iron-bound roads and nipped hedges, and
+the country had to me all the charm of novelty.  It was certainly flat,
+but there was plenty of timber, and the villages through which I passed
+were old and picturesque.
+
+"I lunched luxuriously on bread and cheese and beer in the bar of a small
+inn, and resolved to go a little further before turning back.  When at
+length I found I had gone far enough, I turned up a lane at right angles
+to the road I was passing, and resolved to find my way back by another
+route.  It is a long lane that has no turning, but this had several, each
+of which had turnings of its own, which generally led, as I found by
+trying two or three of them, into the open marshes.  Then, tired of
+lanes, I resolved to rely upon the small compass which hung from my watch
+chain and go across country home.
+
+"I had got well into the marshes when a white fog, which had been for
+some time hovering round the edge of the ditches, began gradually to
+spread.  There was no escaping it, but by aid of my compass I was saved
+from making a circular tour and fell instead into frozen ditches or
+stumbled over roots in the grass.  I kept my course, however, until at
+four o'clock, when night was coming rapidly up to lend a hand to the fog,
+I was fain to confess myself lost.
+
+"The compass was now no good to me, and I wandered about miserably,
+occasionally giving a shout on the chance of being heard by some passing
+shepherd or farmhand.  At length by great good luck I found my feet on a
+rough road driven through the marshes, and by walking slowly and tapping
+with my stick managed to keep to it.  I had followed it for some distance
+when I heard footsteps approaching me.
+
+"We stopped as we met, and the new arrival, a sturdy-looking countryman,
+hearing of my plight, walked back with me for nearly a mile, and putting
+me on to a road gave me minute instructions how to reach a village some
+three miles distant.
+
+"I was so tired that three miles sounded like ten, and besides that, a
+little way off from the road I saw dimly a lighted window.  I pointed it
+out, but my companion shuddered and looked round him uneasily.
+
+"'You won't get no good there,' he said, hastily.
+
+"'Why not?' I asked.
+
+"'There's a something there, sir,' he replied, 'what 'tis I dunno, but
+the little 'un belonging to a gamekeeper as used to live in these parts
+see it, and it was never much good afterward.  Some say as it's a poor
+mad thing, others says as it's a kind of animal; but whatever it is, it
+ain't good to see.'
+
+"'Well, I'll keep on, then,' I said.  'Goodnight.'
+
+"He went back whistling cheerily until his footsteps died away in the
+distance, and I followed the road he had indicated until it divided into
+three, any one of which to a stranger might be said to lead straight on.
+I was now cold and tired, and having half made up my mind walked slowly
+back toward the house.
+
+"At first all I could see of it was the little patch of light at the
+window. I made for that until it disappeared suddenly, and I found myself
+walking into a tall hedge. I felt my way round this until I came to a
+small gate, and opening it cautiously, walked, not without some little
+nervousness, up a long path which led to the door. There was no light and
+no sound from within. Half repenting of my temerity I shortened my stick
+and knocked lightly upon the door.
+
+"I waited a couple of minutes and then knocked again, and my stick was
+still beating the door when it opened suddenly and a tall bony old woman,
+holding a candle, confronted me.
+
+"'What do you want?' she demanded gruffly.
+
+"'I've lost my way,' I said, civilly; 'I want to get to Ashville.'
+
+"'Don't know it,' said the old woman.
+
+"She was about to close the door when a man emerged from a room at the
+side of the hall and came toward us.  An old man of great height and
+breadth of shoulder.
+
+"'Ashville is fifteen miles distant,' he said slowly.
+
+"'If you will direct me to the nearest village, I shall be grateful,' I
+remarked.
+
+"He made no reply, but exchanged a quick, furtive glance with the woman.
+She made a gesture of dissent.
+
+"'The nearest place is three miles off,' he said, turning to me and
+apparently trying to soften a naturally harsh voice; 'if you will give me
+the pleasure of your company, I will make you as comfortable as I can.'
+
+"I hesitated.  They were certainly a queer-looking couple, and the gloomy
+hall with the shadows thrown by the candle looked hardly more inviting
+than the darkness outside.
+
+"'You are very kind,' I murmured, irresolutely, 'but--'
+
+"'Come in,' he said quickly; 'shut the door, Anne.'
+
+"Almost before I knew it I was standing inside and the old woman,
+muttering to herself, had closed the door behind me.  With a queer
+sensation of being trapped I followed my host into the room, and taking
+the proffered chair warmed my frozen fingers at the fire.
+
+"'Dinner will soon be ready,' said the old man, regarding me closely. 'If
+you will excuse me.'
+
+"I bowed and he left the room.  A minute afterward I heard voices; his
+and the old woman's, and, I fancied, a third.  Before I had finished my
+inspection of the room he returned, and regarded me with the same strange
+look I had noticed before.
+
+"'There will be three of us at dinner,' he said, at length. 'We two and
+my son.'
+
+"I bowed again, and secretly hoped that that look didn't run in the
+family.
+
+"'I suppose you don't mind dining in the dark,' he said, abruptly.
+
+"'Not at all,' I replied, hiding my surprise as well as I could, 'but
+really I'm afraid I'm intruding. If you'll allow me--'
+
+"He waved his huge gaunt hands. 'We're not going to lose you now we've
+got you,' he said, with a dry laugh.  'It's seldom we have company, and
+now we've got you we'll keep you.  My son's eyes are bad, and he can't
+stand the light.  Ah, here is Anne.'
+
+"As he spoke the old woman entered, and, eyeing me stealthily, began to
+lay the cloth, while my host, taking a chair the other side of the
+hearth, sat looking silently into the fire.  The table set, the old woman
+brought in a pair of fowls ready carved in a dish, and placing three
+chairs, left the room.  The old man hesitated a moment, and then, rising
+from his chair, placed a large screen in front of the fire and slowly
+extinguished the candles.
+
+"'Blind man's holiday,' he said, with clumsy jocosity, and groping his
+way to the door opened it.  Somebody came back into the room with him,
+and in a slow, uncertain fashion took a seat at the table, and the
+strangest voice I have ever heard broke a silence which was fast becoming
+oppressive.
+
+"'A cold night,' it said slowly.
+
+"I replied in the affirmative, and light or no light, fell to with an
+appetite which had only been sharpened by the snack in the middle of the
+day.  It was somewhat difficult eating in the dark, and it was evident
+from the behaviour of my invisible companions that they were as unused to
+dining under such circumstances as I was.  We ate in silence until the
+old woman blundered into the room with some sweets and put them with a
+crash upon the table.
+
+"'Are you a stranger about here?' inquired the curious voice again.
+
+"I replied in the affirmative, and murmured something about my luck in
+stumbling upon such a good dinner.
+
+"'Stumbling is a very good word for it,' said the voice grimly.  'You
+have forgotten the port, father.'
+
+"'So I have,' said the old man, rising.  'It's a bottle of the
+"Celebrated" to-day; I will get it myself.'
+
+"He felt his way to the door, and closing it behind him, left me alone
+with my unseen neighbour.  There was something so strange about the whole
+business that I must confess to more than a slight feeling of uneasiness.
+
+"My host seemed to be absent a long time.  I heard the man opposite lay
+down his fork and spoon, and half fancied I could see a pair of wild eyes
+shining through the gloom like a cat's.
+
+"With a growing sense of uneasiness I pushed my chair back.  It caught
+the hearthrug, and in my efforts to disentangle it the screen fell over
+with a crash and in the flickering light of the fire I saw the face of
+the creature opposite.  With a sharp catch of my breath I left my chair
+and stood with clenched fists beside it.  Man or beast, which was it?
+The flame leaped up and then went out, and in the mere red glow of the
+fire it looked more devilish than before.
+
+"For a few moments we regarded each other in silence; then the door
+opened and the old man returned.  He stood aghast as he saw the warm
+firelight, and then approaching the table mechanically put down a couple
+of bottles.
+
+"'I beg your pardon,' said I, reassured by his presence, 'but I have
+accidentally overturned the screen.  Allow me to replace it.'
+
+"'No,' said the old man, gently, 'let it be.
+
+"'We have had enough of the dark.  I'll give you a light.'
+
+"He struck a match and slowly lit the candles.  Then--I saw that the man
+opposite had but the remnant of a face, a gaunt wolfish face in which one
+unquenched eye, the sole remaining feature, still glittered.  I was
+greatly moved, some suspicion of the truth occurring to me.
+
+"'My son was injured some years ago in a burning house,' said the old
+man.  'Since then we have lived a very retired life.  When you came to
+the door we--' his voice trembled, 'that is-my son---'
+
+"'I thought," said the son simply, 'that it would be better for me not to
+come to the dinner-table.  But it happens to be my birthday, and my
+father would not hear of my dining alone, so we hit upon this foolish
+plan of dining in the dark.  I'm sorry I startled you.'
+
+"'I am sorry,' said I, as I reached across the table and gripped his
+hand, 'that I am such a fool; but it was only in the dark that you
+startled me.'
+
+"From a faint tinge in the old man's cheek and a certain pleasant
+softening of the poor solitary eye in front of me I secretly
+congratulated myself upon this last remark.
+
+"'We never see a friend,' said the old man, apologetically, 'and the
+temptation to have company was too much for us.  Besides, I don't know
+what else you could have done.'
+
+"'Nothing else half so good, I'm sure,' said I.
+
+"'Come,' said my host, with almost a sprightly air.  'Now we know each
+other, draw our chairs to the fire and let's keep this birthday in a
+proper fashion.'
+
+"He drew a small table to the fire for the glasses and produced a box of
+cigars, and placing a chair for the old servant, sternly bade her to sit
+down and drink.  If the talk was not sparkling, it did not lack for
+vivacity, and we were soon as merry a party as I have ever seen.  The
+night wore on so rapidly that we could hardly believe our ears when in a
+lull in the conversation a clock in the hall struck twelve.
+
+"'A last toast before we retire,' said my host, pitching the end of his
+cigar into the fire and turning to the small table.
+
+"We had drunk several before this, but there was something impressive in
+the old man's manner as he rose and took up his glass.  His tall figure
+seemed to get taller, and his voice rang as he gazed proudly at his
+disfigured son.
+
+"'The health of the children my boy saved!' he said, and drained his
+glass at a draught."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

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+
+
+NIGHT WATCHES
+
+by W.W. Jacobs
+
+
+
+
+THE THREE SISTERS
+
+Thirty years ago on a wet autumn evening the household of Mallett's
+Lodge was gathered round the death-bed of Ursula Mallow, the eldest of
+the three sisters who inhabited it.  The dingy moth-eaten curtains of
+the old wooden bedstead were drawn apart, the light of a smoking oil-
+lamp falling upon the hopeless countenance of the dying woman as she
+turned her dull eyes upon her sisters.  The room was in silence except
+for an occasional sob from the youngest sister, Eunice.  Outside the
+rain fell steadily over the steaming marshes.
+
+"Nothing is to be changed, Tabitha," gasped Ursula to the other sister,
+who bore a striking likeness to her although her expression was harder
+and colder; "this room is to be locked up and never opened."
+
+"Very well," said Tabitha brusquely, "though I don't see how it can
+matter to you then."
+
+"It does matter," said her sister with startling energy.  "How do you
+know, how do I know that I may not sometimes visit it?  I have lived in
+this house so long I am certain that I shall see it again.  I will come
+back.  Come back to watch over you both and see that no harm befalls
+you."
+
+"You are talking wildly," said Tabitha, by no means moved at her
+sister's solicitude for her welfare.  "Your mind is wandering; you know
+that I have no faith in such things."
+
+Ursula sighed, and beckoning to Eunice, who was weeping silently at the
+bedside, placed her feeble arms around her neck and kissed her.
+
+"Do not weep, dear," she said feebly.  "Perhaps it is best so.  A lonely
+woman's life is scarce worth living.  We have no hopes, no aspirations;
+other women have had happy husbands and children, but we in this
+forgotten place have grown old together.  I go first, but you must soon
+follow."
+
+Tabitha, comfortably conscious of only forty years and an iron frame,
+shrugged her shoulders and smiled grimly.
+
+"I go first," repeated Ursula in a new and strange voice as her heavy
+eyes slowly closed, "but I will come for each of you in turn, when your
+lease of life runs out.  At that moment I will be with you to lead your
+steps whither I now go."
+
+As she spoke the flickering lamp went out suddenly as though
+extinguished by a rapid hand, and the room was left in utter darkness.
+A strange suffocating noise issued from the bed, and when the trembling
+women had relighted the lamp, all that was left of Ursula Mallow was
+ready for the grave.
+
+That night the survivors passed together.  The dead woman had been a
+firm believer in the existence of that shadowy borderland which is said
+to form an unhallowed link between the living and the dead, and even the
+stolid Tabitha, slightly unnerved by the events of the night, was not
+free from certain apprehensions that she might have been right.
+
+With the bright morning their fears disappeared.  The sun stole in at
+the window, and seeing the poor earth-worn face on the pillow so touched
+it and glorified it that only its goodness and weakness were seen, and
+the beholders came to wonder how they could ever have felt any dread of
+aught so calm and peaceful.  A day or two passed, and the body was
+transferred to a massive coffin long regarded as the finest piece of
+work of its kind ever turned out of the village carpenter's workshop.
+Then a slow and melancholy cortege headed by four bearers wound its
+solemn way across the marshes to the family vault in the grey old
+church, and all that was left of Ursula was placed by the father and
+mother who had taken that self-same journey some thirty years before.
+
+To Eunice as they toiled slowly home the day seemed strange and Sabbath-
+like, the flat prospect of marsh wilder and more forlorn than usual, the
+roar of the sea more depressing.  Tabitha had no such fancies.  The bulk
+of the dead woman's property had been left to Eunice, and her avaricious
+soul was sorely troubled and her proper sisterly feelings of regret for
+the deceased sadly interfered with in consequence.
+
+"What are you going to do with all that money, Eunice?" she asked as
+they sat at their quiet tea.
+
+"I shall leave it as it stands," said Eunice slowly.  "We have both got
+sufficient to live upon, and I shall devote the income from it to
+supporting some beds in a children's hospital."
+
+"If Ursula had wished it to go to a hospital," said Tabitha in her deep
+tones, "she would have left the money to it herself.  I wonder you do
+not respect her wishes more."
+
+"What else can I do with it then?" inquired Eunice.
+
+"Save it," said the other with gleaming eyes, "save it."
+
+Eunice shook her head.
+
+"No," said she, "it shall go to the sick children, but the principal I
+will not touch, and if I die before you it shall become yours and you
+can do what you like with it."
+
+"Very well," said Tabitha, smothering her anger by a strong effort; "I
+don't believe that was what Ursula meant you to do with it, and I don't
+believe she will rest quietly in the grave while you squander the money
+she stored so carefully."
+
+"What do you mean?"  asked Eunice with pale lips.  "You are trying to
+frighten me; I thought that you did not believe in such things."
+
+Tabitha made no answer, and to avoid the anxious inquiring gaze of her
+sister, drew her chair to the fire, and folding her gaunt arms, composed
+herself for a nap.
+
+For some time life went on quietly in the old house.  The room of the
+dead woman, in accordance with her last desire, was kept firmly locked,
+its dirty windows forming a strange contrast to the prim cleanliness of
+the others.  Tabitha, never very talkative, became more taciturn than
+ever, and stalked about the house and the neglected garden like an
+unquiet spirit, her brow roughened into the deep wrinkles suggestive of
+much thought.  As the winter came on, bringing with it the long dark
+evenings, the old house became more lonely than ever, and an air of
+mystery and dread seemed to hang over it and brood in its empty rooms
+and dark corridors.  The deep silence of night was broken by strange
+noises for which neither the wind nor the rats could be held
+accountable.  Old Martha, seated in her distant kitchen, heard strange
+sounds upon the stairs, and once, upon hurrying to them, fancied that
+she saw a dark figure squatting upon the landing, though a subsequent
+search with candle and spectacles failed to discover anything.  Eunice
+was disturbed by several vague incidents, and, as she suffered from a
+complaint of the heart, rendered very ill by them.  Even Tabitha
+admitted a strangeness about the house, but, confident in her piety and
+virtue, took no heed of it, her mind being fully employed in another
+direction.
+
+Since the death of her sister all restraint upon her was removed, and
+she yielded herself up entirely to the stern and hard rules enforced by
+avarice upon its devotees.  Her housekeeping expenses were kept rigidly
+separate from those of Eunice and her food limited to the coarsest
+dishes, while in the matter of clothes, the old servant was by far the
+better dressed.  Seated alone in her bedroom this uncouth, hard-featured
+creature revelled in her possessions, grudging even the expense of the
+candle-end which enabled her to behold them.  So completely did this
+passion change her that both Eunice and Martha became afraid of her, and
+lay awake in their beds night after night trembling at the chinking of
+the coins at her unholy vigils.
+
+One day Eunice ventured to remonstrate.  "Why don't you bank your money,
+Tabitha?" she said; "it is surely not safe to keep such large sums in
+such a lonely house."
+
+"Large sums!" repeated the exasperated Tabitha, "large sums!  what
+nonsense is this?  You know well that I have barely sufficient to keep
+me."
+
+"It's a great temptation to housebreakers," said her sister, not
+pressing the point.  "I made sure last night that I heard somebody in
+the house."
+
+"Did you?"  said Tabitha, grasping her arm, a horrible look on her face.
+"So did I.  I thought they went to Ursula's room, and I got out of bed
+and went on the stairs to listen."
+
+"Well?" said Eunice faintly, fascinated by the look on her sister's
+face.
+
+"There was something there," said Tabitha slowly.  "I'll swear it, for I
+stood on the landing by her door and listened; something scuffling on
+the floor round and round the room.  At first I thought it was the cat,
+but when I went up there this morning the door was still locked, and the
+cat was in the kitchen."
+
+"Oh, let us leave this dreadful house," moaned Eunice.
+
+"What!" said her sister grimly; "afraid of poor Ursula?  Why should you
+be?  Your own sister who nursed you when you were a babe, and who
+perhaps even now comes and watches over your slumbers."
+
+"Oh!" said Eunice, pressing her hand to her side, "if I saw her I should
+die.  I should think that she had come for me as she said she would. O
+God! have mercy on me, I am dying."
+
+She reeled as she spoke, and before Tabitha could save her, sank
+senseless to the floor.
+
+"Get some water," cried Tabitha, as old Martha came hurrying up the
+stairs, "Eunice has fainted."
+
+The old woman, with a timid glance at her, retired, reappearing shortly
+afterwards with the water, with which she proceeded to restore her much-
+loved mistress to her senses.  Tabitha, as soon as this was
+accomplished, stalked off to her room, leaving her sister and Martha
+sitting drearily enough in the small parlour, watching the fire and
+conversing in whispers.
+
+It was clear to the old servant that this state of things could not last
+much longer, and she repeatedly urged her mistress to leave a house so
+lonely and so mysterious.  To her great delight Eunice at length
+consented, despite the fierce opposition of her sister, and at the mere
+idea of leaving gained greatly in health and spirits.  A small but
+comfortable house was hired in Morville, and arrangements made for a
+speedy change.
+
+It was the last night in the old house, and all the wild spirits of the
+marshes, the wind and the sea seemed to have joined forces for one
+supreme effort.  When the wind dropped, as it did at brief intervals,
+the sea was heard moaning on the distant beach, strangely mingled with
+the desolate warning of the bell-buoy as it rocked to the waves.  Then
+the wind rose again, and the noise of the sea was lost in the fierce
+gusts which, finding no obstacle on the open marshes, swept with their
+full fury upon the house by the creek.  The strange voices of the air
+shrieked in its chimneys windows rattled, doors slammed, and even, the
+very curtains seemed to live and move.
+
+Eunice was in bed, awake.  A small nightlight in a saucer of oil shed a
+sickly glare upon the worm-eaten old furniture, distorting the most
+innocent articles into ghastly shapes.  A wilder gust than usual almost
+deprived her of the protection afforded by that poor light, and she lay
+listening fearfully to the creakings and other noises on the stairs,
+bitterly regretting that she had not asked Martha to sleep with her.
+But it was not too late even now.  She slipped hastily to the floor,
+crossed to the huge wardrobe, and was in the very act of taking her
+dressing-gown from its peg when an unmistakable footfall was heard on
+the stairs.  The robe dropped from her shaking fingers, and with a
+quickly beating heart she regained her bed.
+
+The sounds ceased and a deep silence followed, which she herself was
+unable to break although she strove hard to do so.  A wild gust of wind
+shook the windows and nearly extinguished the light, and when its flame
+had regained its accustomed steadiness she saw that the door was slowly
+opening, while the huge shadow of a hand blotted the papered wall.
+Still her tongue refused its office.  The door flew open with a crash, a
+cloaked figure entered and, throwing aside its coverings, she saw with a
+horror past all expression the napkin-bound face of the dead Ursula
+smiling terribly at her.  In her last extremity she raised her faded
+eyes above for succour, and then as the figure noiselessly advanced and
+laid its cold hand upon her brow, the soul of Eunice Mallow left its
+body with a wild shriek and made its way to the Eternal.
+
+Martha, roused by the cry, and shivering with dread, rushed to the door
+and gazed in terror at the figure which stood leaning over the bedside.
+As she watched, it slowly removed the cowl and the napkin and exposed
+the fell face of Tabitha, so strangely contorted between fear and
+triumph that she hardly recognized it.
+
+"Who's there?" cried Tabitha in a terrible voice as she saw the old
+woman's shadow on the wall.
+
+"I thought I heard a cry," said Martha, entering.  "Did anybody call?"
+
+"Yes, Eunice," said the other, regarding her closely.  "I, too, heard
+the cry, and hurried to her.  What makes her so strange?  Is she in a
+trance?"
+
+"Ay," said the old woman, falling on her knees by the bed and sobbing
+bitterly, "the trance of death.  Ah, my dear, my poor lonely girl, that
+this should be the end of it!  She has died of fright," said the old
+woman, pointing to the eyes, which even yet retained their horror.  "She
+has seen something devilish."
+
+Tabitha's gaze fell.  "She has always suffered with her heart," she
+muttered; "the night has frightened her; it frightened me."
+
+She stood upright by the foot of the bed as Martha drew the sheet over
+the face of the dead woman.
+
+"First Ursula, then Eunice," said Tabitha, drawing a deep breath.  "I
+can't stay here.  I'll dress and wait for the morning."
+
+She left the room as she spoke, and with bent head proceeded to her own.
+Martha remained by the bedside, and gently closing the staring eyes,
+fell on her knees, and prayed long and earnestly for the departed soul.
+Overcome with grief and fear she remained with bowed head until a sudden
+sharp cry from Tabitha brought her to her feet.
+
+"Well," said the old woman, going to the door.
+
+"Where are you?" cried Tabitha, somewhat reassured by her voice.
+
+"In Miss Eunice's bedroom.  Do you want anything?"
+
+"Come down at once.  Quick!  I am unwell."
+
+Her voice rose suddenly to a scream.  "Quick!  For God's sake!  Quick,
+or I shall go mad.  There is some strange woman in the house."
+
+The old woman stumbled hastily down the dark stairs.  "What is the
+matter?"  she cried, entering the room.  "Who is it?  What do you mean?"
+
+"I saw it," said Tabitha, grasping her convulsively by the shoulder.  "I
+was coming to you when I saw the figure of a woman in front of me going
+up the stairs.  Is it--can it be Ursula come for the soul of Eunice, as
+she said she would?"
+
+"Or for yours?"  said Martha, the words coming from her in some odd
+fashion, despite herself.
+
+Tabitha, with a ghastly look, fell cowering by her side, clutching
+tremulously at her clothes.  "Light the lamps," she cried hysterically.
+"Light a fire, make a noise; oh, this dreadful darkness!  Will it never
+be day!"
+
+"Soon, soon," said Martha, overcoming her repugnance and trying to
+pacify her.  "When the day comes you will laugh at these fears."
+
+"I murdered her," screamed the miserable woman, "I killed her with
+fright.  Why did she not give me the money?  'Twas no use to her.  Ah!
+Look there!"
+
+Martha, with a horrible fear, followed her glance to the door, but saw
+nothing.
+
+"It's Ursula," said Tabitha from between her teeth.  "Keep her off!
+Keep her off!"
+
+The old woman, who by some unknown sense seemed to feel the presence of
+a third person in the room, moved a step forward and stood before her.
+As she did so Tabitha waved her arms as though to free herself from the
+touch of a detaining hand, half rose to her feet, and without a word
+fell dead before her.
+
+At this the old woman's courage forsook her, and with a great cry she
+rushed from the room, eager to escape from this house of death and
+mystery.  The bolts of the great door were stiff with age, and strange
+voices seemed to ring in her ears as she strove wildly to unfasten them.
+Her brain whirled.  She thought that the dead in their distant rooms
+called to her, and that a devil stood on the step outside laughing and
+holding the door against her.  Then with a supreme effort she flung it
+open, and heedless of her night-clothes passed into the bitter night.
+The path across the marshes was lost in the darkness, but she found it;
+the planks over the ditches slippery and narrow, but she crossed them in
+safety, until at last, her feet bleeding and her breath coming in great
+gasps, she entered the village and sank down more dead than alive on a
+cottage doorstep.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg12337.txt

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+
+
+DICKENS IN CAMP
+
+_BY BRET HARTE_
+
+WITH A FOREWORD BY
+
+_Frederick S. Myrtle_
+
+[Illustration]
+
+_San Francisco_
+
+JOHN HOWELL
+1922.
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+FOREWORD
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Dickens In Camp" is held by many admirers of Bret Harte to be his
+masterpiece of verse. The poem is so held for the evident sincerity and
+depth of feeling it displays as well as for the unusual quality of its
+poetic expression.
+
+Bret Hart has been generally accepted as the one American writer who
+possessed above all others the faculty of what may be called heart
+appeal, the power to give to his work that quality of human interest
+which enables the writer and his writings to live in the memory of the
+reading public for all time. By reason of that gift of his Bret Harte
+has been popularly compared with his great contemporary beyond the
+seas, greatest of all sentimentalists among writers of fiction,
+Charles Dickens.
+
+Just how far the younger author selected the elder for his ideal, built
+upon him, so to speak, & held his example constantly before his mental
+vision, may be always a matter of debate amongst students of literature.
+There can be no question of the genuineness of the Californian writer's
+admiration of him who made the whole world laugh or weep with him at
+will. It is recorded Harte that at seven years of age he had read
+"Dombey & Son," and so, as one of his biographers, Henry Childs Merwin,
+observes, "began his acquaintance with that author who was to influence
+him far more than any other." Merwin further declares that "the reading
+of Dickens stimulated his boyish imagination and quickened that sympathy
+with the weak and suffering, with the downtrodden, with the waifs and
+strays, with the outcasts of society, which is remarkable in both
+writers. The spirit of Dickens breathes through the poems and stories of
+Bret Harte just as the spirit of Bret Harte breathes through the poems
+and stories of Kipling. Bret Harte had a very pretty satirical vein
+which might easily have developed, have made him an author of satire
+rather than of sentiment. Who can say that the influence of Dickens,
+coming at the early, plastic period of his life, may not have turned
+the scale?"
+
+Another of his biographers, T. Edgar Pemberton, says his admiration for
+Charles Dickens never waned, but on the contrary, increased as the years
+rolled by. Harte himself, referring in later years to his childhood
+days, to his father's library and the books to which he had access,
+spoke of "the irresistible Dickens." Mr. Pemberton states, also,
+that Bret Harte always felt that he owed a deep debt of gratitude to
+Charles Dickens.
+
+Small wonder, then, that, Bret Harte no matter how unconsciously,
+should have adopted here and there something of the style and some of
+the mannerisms of Dickens. This is directly traceable in his writings,
+even to the extent of his resorting, here and there, to oddities of
+expression which were peculiarly Dickensian.
+
+The English writer, on his part, reciprocated in no small degree the
+feeling of admiration which his works had aroused in the young American.
+His biographer, John Forster, relates that Dickens called his attention
+to two sketches by Bret Harte, "The Luck of Roaring Camp" and "The
+Outcasts of Poker Flat," in which, writes the biographer, "he had found
+such subtle strokes of character as he had not anywhere else in later
+years discovered; the manner resembling himself but the matter fresh to
+a degree that had surprised him; the painting in all respects masterly
+and the wild rude thing painted a quite wonderful reality. I have rarely
+known him more honestly moved."
+
+Dickens gave evidence of this feeling of appreciation in a letter
+addressed to Harte in California, commending his literary efforts,
+inviting him to write a story for "All the Year Round" and bidding him
+sojourn with him at Gad's Hill upon his first visit to England. This
+letter was written shortly before Dickens' death and, unfortunately,
+did not reach Bret Harte until sometime after that sad event.
+
+When word of the passing of "The Master," as he reverently styled him,
+reached Bret Harte he was in San Rafael. He immediately sent a dispatch
+across the bay to San Francisco to hold back the forthcoming publication
+of his "Overland Monthly" for twenty-four hours, and ere that time had
+elapsed the poetic tribute to which the title was given of "Dickens in
+Camp" had been composed and sent on its way to magazine headquarters
+in the Western metropolis. That was in July, 1870.
+
+Late in the '70s, while on his way to a consulship in Germany, Bret
+Harte visited London for the first time. There he was taken in charge
+by Joaquin Miller, the Poet of the Sierras, who in his reminiscences
+relates: "He could not rest until he stood by the grave of Dickens.
+At last one twilight I led him by the hand to where some plain letters
+in a broad, flat stone just below the bust of Thackeray read 'Charles
+Dickens.' Bret Harte is dead now and it will not hurt him in politics,
+where they seem to want the hard and heartless for high places, it will
+not hurt him in politics nor in anything anywhere to tell the plain
+truth, how he tried to speak but choked up, how tears ran down and fell
+on the stone as he bowed his bare head very low, how his hand trembled
+as I led him away."
+
+Many years later, in May, 1890, Bret Harte, in response to a request
+for a facsimile of the original manuscript of "Dickens in Camp" replied
+in part:
+
+"I hurriedly sent the first and only draft of the verses to the office
+at San Francisco, and I suppose after passing the printer's and
+proof-reader's hands it lapsed into the usual oblivion of all editorial
+'copy'.
+
+"I remember that it was very hastily but very honestly written, and it
+is fair to add that it was not until later that I knew for the first
+time that those gentle and wonderful eyes, which I was thinking of as
+being closed forever, had ever rested kindly upon a line of mine."
+
+The poem itself breathes reverence for "The Master" throughout. To
+residents of California, who revel in the outdoor life of her mountains
+& valleys, the poem has a particular attraction for its camp-fire spirit
+which to us seems part and parcel of that outdoor life. It is a far
+cry, perhaps, from the camp-fires of 1849 to the camp-fires of 1922,
+but surely the camp-fire spirit is the same with us in our Western
+wonderland today as it was with those rough old miners who sat around
+the logs under the pines after a day of arduous and oft disappointing
+toil. Surely the visions we see, the lessons we read in the camp-fire
+glow, are much the same as they were then. Surely we build the same
+castles in the air, draw the same inspirations from it. Biographer
+Forster pays the poem this tribute:
+
+"It embodies the same kind of incident which had so affected the master
+himself in the papers to which I have referred; it shows the gentler
+influences which, in even those California wilds, can restore outlawed
+'roaring campers' to silence and humanity; and there is hardly any
+form of posthumous tribute which I can imagine likely to have better
+satisfied his desire of fame than one which should thus connect with the
+special favorite among all his heroines the restraints and authority
+exerted by his genius over the rudest and least civilized of competitors
+in that far, fierce race for wealth."
+
+In the twining of English holly and Western pine upon the great English
+novelist's grave the poet expresses a happy thought. He calls East and
+West together in common appreciation of one whose influence was not
+merely local but worldwide. He invites the old world and the new to
+kneel together at the altar of sentiment, an appeal to the emotions
+which never fails to touch a responsive chord in the heart of humanity.
+
+Frederick S. Myrtle
+
+San Francisco, California
+April, 1922
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+DICKENS in CAMP
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+Above the pines the moon was slowly drifting,
+  The river sang below;
+The dim Sierras, far beyond, uplifting
+  Their minarets of snow.
+
+The roaring camp-fire, with rude humor, painted
+  The ruddy tints of health
+On haggard face and form that drooped and fainted
+  In the fierce race for wealth;
+
+Till one arose, and from his pack's scant treasure
+  A hoarded volume drew,
+And cards were dropped from hands of listless leisure
+  To hear the tale anew;
+
+And then, while round them shadows gathered faster,
+  And as the firelight fell,
+He read aloud the book wherein the Master
+  Had writ of "Little Nell."
+
+Perhaps 'twas boyish fancy,--for the reader
+  Was youngest of them all,--
+But, as he read, from clustering pine and cedar
+  A silence seemed to fall;
+
+The fir-trees, gathering closer in the shadows,
+  Listened in every spray,
+While the whole camp, with "Nell" on English meadows,
+  Wandered and lost their way.
+
+And so in mountain solitudes--o'ertaken
+  As by some spell divine--
+Their cares dropped from them like the needles shaken
+  From out the gusty pine.
+
+Lost is that camp, and wasted all its fire:
+  And he who wrought that spell?--
+Ah, towering pine and stately Kentish spire,
+  Ye have one tale to tell!
+
+Lost is that camp! but let its fragrant story
+  Blend with the breath that thrills
+With hop-vines' incense all the pensive glory
+  That fills the Kentish hills.
+
+And on that grave where English oak and holly
+  And laurel wreaths intwine,
+Deem it not all a too presumptuous folly,--
+  This spray of Western pine!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+  THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY COPIES OF THIS BOOK
+  PRINTED BY EDWIN GRABHORN FOR JOHN HOWELL.
+  TITLE PAGE AND DECORATIONS BY JOSEPH SINEL.
+  THIS IS COPY NO. [Handwritten: 37]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg12458.txt

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+
+
+
+Transcribed by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk
+
+
+
+
+THE TALISMAN
+FROM THE RUSSIAN OF ALEXANDER PUSHKIN
+WITH OTHER PIECES
+
+
+
+
+Contents:
+
+   The Talisman
+   The Mermaid
+   Ancient Russian Song
+   Ancient Ballad
+   The Renegade
+
+
+
+
+THE TALISMAN
+
+
+From the Russian of Pushkin.
+
+Where fierce the surge with awful bellow
+Doth ever lash the rocky wall;
+And where the moon most brightly mellow
+Dost beam when mists of evening fall;
+Where midst his harem's countless blisses
+The Moslem spends his vital span,
+A Sorceress there with gentle kisses
+Presented me a Talisman.
+
+And said:  until thy latest minute
+Preserve, preserve my Talisman;
+A secret power it holds within it--
+'Twas love, true love the gift did plan.
+From pest on land, or death on ocean,
+When hurricanes its surface fan,
+O object of my fond devotion!
+Thou scap'st not by my Talisman.
+
+The gem in Eastern mine which slumbers,
+Or ruddy gold 'twill not bestow;
+'Twill not subdue the turban'd numbers,
+Before the Prophet's shrine which bow;
+Nor high through air on friendly pinions
+Can bear thee swift to home and clan,
+From mournful climes and strange dominions--
+From South to North--my Talisman.
+
+But oh! when crafty eyes thy reason
+With sorceries sudden seek to move,
+And when in Night's mysterious season
+Lips cling to thine, but not in love--
+From proving then, dear youth, a booty
+To those who falsely would trepan
+From new heart wounds, and lapse from duty,
+Protect thee shall my Talisman.
+
+
+
+
+THE MERMAID
+
+
+From the Russian of Pushkin.
+
+Close by a lake, begirt with forest,
+To save his soul, a Monk intent,
+In fasting, prayer and labours sorest
+His days and nights, secluded, spent;
+A grave already to receive him
+He fashion'd, stooping, with his spade,
+And speedy, speedy death to give him,
+Was all that of the Saints he pray'd.
+
+As once in summer's time of beauty,
+On bended knee, before his door,
+To God he paid his fervent duty,
+The woods grew more and more obscure:
+Down o'er the lake a fog descended,
+And slow the full moon, red as blood,
+Midst threat'ning clouds up heaven wended--
+Then gazed the Monk upon the flood.
+
+He gaz'd, and, fear his mind surprising,
+Himself no more the hermit knows:
+He sees with foam the waters rising,
+And then subsiding to repose,
+And sudden, light as night-ghost wanders,
+A female thence her form uprais'd,
+Pale as the snow which winter squanders,
+And on the bank herself she plac'd.
+
+She gazes on the hermit hoary,
+And combs her long hair, tress by tress;
+The Monk he quakes, but on the glory
+Looks wistful of her loveliness;
+Now becks with hand that winsome creature,
+And now she noddeth with her head,
+Then sudden, like a fallen meteor,
+She plunges in her watery bed.
+
+No sleep that night the old man cheereth,
+No prayer throughout next day he pray'd
+Still, still, against his wish, appeareth
+Before him that mysterious maid.
+Darkness again the wood investeth,
+The moon midst clouds is seen to sail,
+And once more on the margin resteth
+The maiden beautiful and pale.
+
+With head she bow'd, with look she courted,
+And kiss'd her hand repeatedly,
+Splashed with the water, gaily sported,
+And wept and laugh'd like infancy--
+She names the monk, with tones heart-urging
+Exclaims "O Monk, come, come to me!" {7}
+Then sudden midst the waters merging
+All, all is in tranquillity.
+
+On the third night the hermit fated
+Beside those shores of sorcery,
+Sat and the damsel fair awaited,
+And dark the woods began to be--
+The beams of morn the night mists scatter,
+No Monk is seen then, well a day!
+And only, only in the water
+The lasses view'd his beard of grey.
+
+
+
+
+ANCIENT RUSSIAN SONG
+
+
+i.
+
+The windel-straw nor grass so shook and trembled;
+As the good and gallant stripling shook and trembled;
+A linen shirt so fine his frame invested,
+O'er the shirt was drawn a bright pelisse of scarlet
+The sleeves of that pelisse depended backward,
+The lappets of its front were button'd backward,
+And were spotted with the blood of unbelievers;
+See the good and gallant stripling reeling goeth,
+From his eyeballs hot and briny tears distilling;
+On his bended bow his figure he supporteth,
+Till his bended bow has lost its goodly gilding;
+Not a single soul the stripling good encounter'd,
+Till encounter'd he the mother dear who bore him:
+O my boy, O my treasure, and my darling!
+By what mean hast thou render'd thee so drunken,
+To the clay that thou bowest down thy figure,
+And the grass and the windel-straws art grasping?
+To his Mother thus the gallant youth made answer:
+'Twas not I, O mother dear, who made me drunken,
+But the Sultan of the Turks has made me drunken
+With three potent, various potations;
+The first of them his keenly cutting sabre;
+The next of them his never failing jav'lin;
+The third of them his pistol's leaden bullet.
+
+ii.
+
+O rustle not, ye verdant oaken branches!
+Whilst I tell the gallant stripling's tale of daring;
+When this morn they led the gallant youth to judgment
+Before the dread tribunal of the grand Tsar,
+Then our Tsar and Gosudar began to question:
+Tell me, tell me, little lad, and peasant bantling!
+Who assisted thee to ravage and to plunder;
+I trow thou hadst full many wicked comrades.
+I'll tell thee, Tsar! our country's hope and glory,
+I'll tell thee all the truth, without a falsehood:
+Thou must know that I had comrades, four in number;
+Of my comrades four the first was gloomy midnight;
+The second was a steely dudgeon dagger;
+The third it was a swift and speedy courser;
+The fourth of my companions was a bent bow;
+My messengers were furnace-harden'd arrows.
+Replied the Tsar, our country's hope and glory:
+Of a truth, thou little lad, and peasant's bantling!
+In thieving thou art skill'd and giving answers;
+For thy answers and thy thieving I'll reward thee
+With a house upon the windy plain constructed
+Of two pillars high, surmounted by a cross-beam.
+
+iii.
+
+O thou field of my delight so fair and verdant!
+Thou scene of all my happiness and pleasure!
+O how charmingly Nature hath array'd thee
+With the soft green grass and juicy clover,
+And with corn-flowers blooming and luxuriant.
+One thing there is alone, that doth deform thee;
+In the midst of thee, O field, so fair and verdant!
+A clump of bushes stands--a clump of hazels,
+Upon their very top there sits an eagle,
+And upon the bushes' top--upon the hazels,
+Compress'd within his claw he holds a raven,
+And its hot blood he sprinkles on the dry ground;
+And beneath the bushes' clump--beneath the hazels,
+Lies void of life the good and gallant stripling;
+All wounded, pierc'd and mangled is his body.
+As the little tiny swallow or the chaffinch,
+Round their warm and cosey nest are seen to hover,
+So hovers there the mother dear who bore him;
+And aye she weeps, as flows a river's water;
+His sister weeps as flows a streamlet's water;
+His youthful wife, as falls the dew from heaven--
+The Sun, arising, dries the dew of heaven.
+
+
+
+
+ANCIENT BALLAD
+
+
+From the Malo Russian.
+
+From the wood a sound is gliding,
+Vapours dense the plain are hiding,
+How yon Dame her son is chiding.
+"Son, away! nor longer tarry!
+Would the Turks thee off would carry!"
+"Ha; the Turkmen know and heed me;
+Coursers good the Turkmen breed me."
+
+From the wood a sound is gliding,
+Vapours dense the plain are hiding,
+Still that Dame her son is chiding:
+"Hence, begone! nor longer tarry!
+Would the Horde {11} thee off would carry!"
+"Ha! the Horde has learnt to prize me;
+"'Tis the Horde with gold supplies me."
+
+Brings his horse his eldest sister,
+And the next his arms, which glister,
+Whilst the third, with childish prattle,
+Cries, "when wilt return from battle?"
+
+"Fill thy hand with sands, ray blossom!
+Sow them on the rock's rude bosom,
+Night and morning stroll to view them,
+With thy briny tears bedew them,
+And when they shall sprout in glory
+I'll return me from the foray."
+
+From the wood a sound is gliding,
+Vapours dense the plain are hiding,
+Cries the Dame in anxious measure:
+"Stay, I'll wash thy head, my treasure!"
+"Me shall wash the rains which splash me,
+Me shall comb the thorns which gash me,
+Me shall dry the winds which lash me."
+
+
+
+
+THE RENEGADE
+
+
+From the Polish of Mickiewicz.
+
+Now pay ye the heed that is fitting,
+Whilst I sing ye the Iran adventure;
+The Pasha on sofa was sitting
+In his harem's glorious centre.
+
+Greek sang and Tcherkass for his pleasure,
+And Kergeesian captive is dancing;
+In the eyes of the first heaven's azure,
+And in those black of Eblis is glancing.
+
+But the Pasha's attention is failing,
+O'er his visage his fair turban stealeth;
+From tchebouk {13a} he sleep is inhaling
+Whilst round him sweet vapours he dealeth.
+
+What rumour without is there breeding?
+Ye fair ranks asunder why wend ye?
+Kyslar Aga {13b}, a strange captive leading,
+Cometh forward and crieth.  "Efendy!
+
+Whose face has the power when present
+Midst the stars in divan which do muster,
+Which amidst the gems of night's crescent
+Has the blaze of Aldeboran's lustre.
+
+Glance nearer, bright star!  I have tiding,
+Glad tiding, behold how in duty
+From far Lehistan the wind, gliding.
+Has brought this fresh tribute of beauty.
+
+In the Padishaw's garden there bloometh,
+In proud Istambul, no such blossom;
+From the wintry regions she cometh
+Whose memory so lives in thy bosom."
+
+Then the gauzes removes he which shade her,
+At her beauty all wonder intensely;
+One moment the Pasha survey'd her,
+And, dropping his tchebouk, without sense lay.
+
+His turban has fallen from his forehead,
+To assist him the bystanders started--
+His mouth foams, his face blackens horrid--
+See the Renegade's soul has departed.
+
+
+
+
+Footnotes:
+
+
+{7}  In the book the opening double-quotes are double commas.  These
+have been replaced by opening quotes in this eBook - DP.
+
+{11}  The Tartar Horde,--generally known by the appellation of "The
+Golden," which, some centuries since, was the dreaded and terrible
+scourge of Southern Russia.
+
+{13a}  Turkish pipe.
+
+{13b}  Keeper of the women.
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg13075.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,597 @@
+
+
+
+Copyright (C) 2003 Scribolin
+
+
+
+For info visit:
+www.scribolin.com
+Printed in USA
+Copyright (C) 2003 Scribolin
+ISBN 0-9746226-0-5
+
+                        A Hero and a Great Man
+                                   
+                               Story by
+                          Francis Kruckvich
+                                   
+                           Illustrations by
+                                Fritz
+  _________________________________________________________________
+
+A Hero and A Great Man
+
+We hang the petty thieves and appoint
+the great ones to public office
+- Aesop
+
+They say knowledge is power.
+Power walks with ambition.
+Ambition will devour
+A man without vision.
+
+Through a turbid town,
+A great man walks.
+Through a troubled town,
+A great man talks.
+
+He tells tales of bravery.
+On attention he feeds.
+With speech most savory
+He boasts of great deeds.
+
+He is well respected.
+He enjoys much recognition.
+He hopes to be selected
+For a prestigious position.
+
+He likes to be seen.
+He likes to be heard.
+When he is on the scene,
+He fills the air with word.
+  _________________________________________________________________
+
+As greatness is a need
+This need is his fate.
+He is as great indeed,
+As his need to feel great.
+
+One day as he was walking,
+He happened to overhear
+Two girls that were talking.
+He turned his curious ear.
+
+As their words he overheard,
+He felt his aid was required.
+Always attracted to the spoken word
+To the girls he inquired,
+
+Why do you girls carry on
+In such a vociferous way?
+To you my attention is drawn
+Upon this beautiful day!!!
+
+And to him the him girls inquired,
+Where does the sun go at night?
+He knew an answer was required.
+But he knew not what was right.
+
+Where it goes, he could not say
+As he covertly looked about.
+Being a master of delay,
+He calmly searched for an out.
+
+A man was passing by
+And overheard this conversation.
+He thought he could supply,
+A goodly explanation.
+  _________________________________________________________________
+
+Details of this man are unknown
+For he lived a life withdrawn.
+He prefers to be quiet and alone.
+A common life he has forgone.
+
+You see, he was not like you and me.
+His methods were strange and new.
+A different world his eyes would see.
+A world in which others would have no clue.
+
+Despite his odd looks.
+He is more then he appears.
+He has read many books,
+Yet still wet behind the ears.
+
+Every culture to its own will conform.
+The mind of the crowd is a shallow creek.
+As this man was far from the norm,
+He was seen by the people as a freak.
+
+He values his peace.
+He is devoted to thought.
+This is his release.
+Nothing finer could be bought.
+
+As peace is a need
+This need is his fate.
+Attempting to run from greed,
+On simplicity he would concentrate.
+
+He never felt the peace
+That he needed to feel.
+He would never cease
+To search for whats real.
+  _________________________________________________________________
+
+If work was completed
+According to plan,
+It should not be repeated
+By a frustrated man.
+
+The only exception
+For such repetition
+Is the struggle for perfection,
+Or the folly of a politician.
+
+When he did a deed,
+When he found satisfaction,
+He could see no need
+For any further action.
+
+If nothing was there broken
+Or no deed to be done,
+No answer to be spoken,
+Then action was there none.
+
+If there is no disruption
+And everything seems in balance,
+Wasteful action is corruption
+Of the purest talents.
+
+A problem of complexity
+Needs a simple solution.
+A mind in perplexity
+Is lost in convolution.
+
+Now for the girls question,
+He felt he knew, really.
+He had a suggestion,
+And he offered it freely.
+  _________________________________________________________________
+
+A weary sun will hide
+To give a new night birth.
+The sun then goes to the other side
+Of our blessed Mother Earth.
+
+The problem seemed to be solved.
+The great man saw this.
+He went to get involved.
+For attention he could not miss.
+
+The freaks words had merit.
+An advantage had been gained,
+But the great man could not bear it.
+His status must be maintained.
+
+The freaks words he twisted
+With his eloquent speech.
+His charisma could not be resisted.
+It was he who would teach.
+
+He took the freaks idea
+And made it his own.
+No man would be right
+Except he alone.
+
+He devised his own story
+Using the freaks word.
+He would take the glory
+And make the freak seem absurd.
+
+He is not entirely correct.
+The great man thus began.
+I mean no disrespect
+But I am, of course, a great man!
+  _________________________________________________________________
+
+He was on the right track.
+This I wont deny.
+What truth may he lack,
+I will attempt to supply.
+
+He does not know, it seems,
+That our grateful relation
+To the Suns warm beams
+Lies in the Earths rotation.
+
+If you but wait,
+This problem I will solve.
+Upon its axis straight,
+Does the Earth revolve.
+
+As our great God
+Is wont to create,
+Upon this imaginary rod
+Does the Earth rotate.
+
+The sun remains still
+While the Earth moves and spins
+Where the suns warmth may fill
+A new day on Earth begins.
+
+Just as the moon is the reason
+For waves in the ocean
+The change of the season
+Is the Earth in Her motion.
+
+It is basic science.
+The sun could never hide.
+Our Earth is in complete reliance
+Of the Sun on every side.
+  _________________________________________________________________
+
+The girls were amazed
+At this great display of speech.
+Into the great mans eyes they gazed
+As he proceeded to teach.
+
+A lesson he had taught
+Not unlike a story compiled
+From a borrowed thought
+With its author left reviled.
+
+The freak was appalled
+Watching innocence beguiled.
+The girls were enthralled
+While the great man smiled.
+
+Who was being deceived?
+The freak felt some dismay.
+The great man the girls believed.
+And the freak just walked away.
+
+It seemed childish to contest.
+He saw no reason to fight.
+He thought best not to protest.
+Both of their answers were right.
+
+Over time the great man grew
+To earn a great mans reputation.
+His words would cause much ado
+And even some speculation.
+
+A few weeks quickly went by
+During which time came a threat.
+No rain had fallen from the sky,
+But the ground seemed to be wet.
+  _________________________________________________________________
+
+Water trickled like blood from a gash.
+Soon the streets turned to mud.
+People could not walk without a splash.
+There was fear that the town would flood.
+
+Slowly, this problem would develop.
+The water would continue to run.
+Eventually, the whole town it would envelop
+If something was not soon done.
+
+Water does not feel sorrow nor care
+Wherever it trickles and roams.
+The people were becoming more aware,
+For it was soon in their homes.
+
+To the great man the people went
+For some kind of solution.
+There must be a way to prevent
+Any further ground dilution.
+
+The great man promised thus,
+To you I can assure,
+For any problem threatening us
+For sure there is a cure!
+
+I will stop this silly little flood.
+Upon the great man you can rely.
+The ground may be covered in mud
+But, somewhere, must a solution lie!
+
+In his office the great man sat
+Staring at the water on the floor.
+He knew not how to deal with that,
+But he knew there would be more.
+  _________________________________________________________________
+
+Desperately trying to think of a plan
+He repeatedly read the plaque on the wall,
+Here is a Great Man
+He will save us all!
+
+The sparkling water had a sense of beauty
+As it reflected in the plaque.
+A painful reminder of his duty,
+A leader must never slack.
+
+So, eagerly, he donned his heavy boots,
+And ventured forth for a walk
+Through a series of muddy routes,
+For to the people he must talk.
+
+The great man noticed one man solitary
+As he trekked a turbid trail.
+To the woods with buckets he did carry
+In a struggling effort his home to bail.
+
+Though his face he could not see,
+He knew that this man to be clever and brave.
+He could not dwell on who it could be
+For the great man had a town to save.
+
+He thought of the people as his duty required
+To give them this instruction.
+By this sight he was inspired
+To save the town from destruction.
+
+Together we must pull!
+This I must accent!
+So each man scooped a bucket full
+And into the woods with the water they went.
+  _________________________________________________________________
+
+Soon this method had no effect.
+The water continued to rise.
+The people were beginning to suspect,
+This is not where the solution lies.
+
+The great man saw this method would fail
+But he knew he must not quit.
+Again he trekked the turbid trail
+To this problem he did commit.
+
+Then the great man saw a lone man dig
+A trench in which the water would drop.
+He dug it deep and he dug it big.
+Perhaps, in this trench, the water would stop!
+
+He thought of the people, as his duty required
+To give them this instruction.
+By this site he was again inspired
+To save the town from destruction.
+
+We must dig a great ditch
+In which the water will drop.
+Into this we all must pitch
+If the water we are to stop!
+
+A solution to this we must seek.
+Look to me in your time of need.
+Though the situation may now look bleak,
+We will succeed with my lead!
+
+Upon his shoulder, he felt a hand.
+It was, in fact, the odd man.
+The great man, at first, did not understand.
+Then the freak thus began,
+  _________________________________________________________________
+
+You may be great and the people strong,
+But this wont stop the waters force.
+This will not work for very long.
+We must stop it at the source.
+
+The great man let out a great big laugh,
+And to the odd man he talked down.
+You think you can speak on the peoples behalf?
+A great man must save this town!
+We all share the same concern.
+Your offer I do appreciate,
+However, to experience, we must now turn.
+This issue is too great.
+
+As the great man continued to give his speech
+The freak had turned and walked away.
+A solution soon someone must reach
+No matter what the great man would say.
+
+Soon the town will certainly be
+Just a huge pool of mud.
+It is not really hard to see
+That nothing is stopping this great flood.
+
+His mind was cloudy and his feet were muddy.
+While the great man talked and talked,
+The freak used this time to think and study,
+So in search of the source he walked.
+
+The freak followed the water alone.
+Deep into the woods he was led.
+There he found a slab of stone.
+On the stone it read,
+  _________________________________________________________________
+
+In the event of a flood
+This lesson should be learned
+Unless you like to live in mud,
+The valve must be turned.
+
+Below these words there was an arrow
+And it was pointing to the creek.
+The creek had begun to overflow.
+This was, no doubt, the source of the leak.
+
+The freak was indeed happy to learn
+How the flood had been produced.
+He found the valve and gave it a turn.
+And the water immediately was reduced.
+
+He went back up the muddy trail
+And told the people what he had done.
+But no one would believe his tale,
+Not a single, solitary one.
+
+Afraid of being deceived,
+The people showed only doubt,
+Why should he be believed?
+What is he all about?
+
+Skepticism and emotion
+Were sparked by the freaks word.
+His story caused quite a commotion,
+And the great man, of course, overheard.
+He said, I will solve this dispute.
+Whatever the problem, there must be a plan.
+Of the truth, we are in pursuit.
+A great problem requires a great man!
+  _________________________________________________________________
+
+Id like a word, please come with me,
+To the freak the great man said.
+The freak complied with his plea.
+To the great mans office he was led.
+
+Once in his office, he closed the door.
+He could not wait to ask,
+What did you do, I want to hear more,
+About how you pursued this task.
+
+As the freak began to describe
+The valve at the creek and slab of stone.
+The great man was not willing to subscribe
+To this story by a man who lives alone.
+
+The great man was in disbelief.
+He began to give the freak a speech.
+His talk was not short, nor was it brief.
+To the freak, a lesson he would teach.
+
+He told the freak about being great,
+And that by his word he would rule.
+Being a master at debate,
+He made the freak look like a fool.
+
+From the office the freak went,
+Stuck on the words the great man had said.
+He walked the path back home in resent,
+As the great mans voice he heard in his head.
+
+Its obvious that the town is his.
+He could hear the people as he walked through.
+Who in the world does he think he is?
+He thinks he is a great man too!
+  _________________________________________________________________
+
+The farther he walked the angrier he became,
+To think that words could outshine skill.
+Great man, bah...what a name!
+Ill show them all, I will!
+
+Into the forest, he marched in retaliation.
+He felt the need to settle the score.
+He could not bear this indignation.
+This town was not his home anymore.
+
+He found again the slab of stone.
+He found again the valve by the creek.
+Never before had he felt so alone.
+Revenge now did he seek.
+
+In his anger, he turned the valve back.
+The water began to overflow.
+He thought, for a moment, about this attack.
+Then he decided the people must know.
+
+On the way back, he felt some guilt.
+His conscience was big and his mind was young.
+Upon action his existence was built.
+Once back in town, he held his tongue.
+
+The town again began to flood.
+And the people again began to worry.
+The ground again had turned to mud.
+To their buckets again the people would hurry.
+
+The efforts again the great man would direct,
+But an effort repeated is a lesson taught.
+Soon the bucket method had no effect,
+And this sent the great man into thought.
+  _________________________________________________________________
+
+The man with the bucket, he only saw from afar.
+And the man in the trench, never showed his face.
+He began to feel that this was bizarre,
+And then this pattern, he began to trace.
+
+These men were indeed one and the same!
+The great man was struck with revelation.
+This peculiar freak, with no name,
+Had been the source of his inspiration!
+
+He headed down the muddy trail,
+Into the forest he would withdraw.
+There he dropped his water pale.
+He could not believe what he saw.
+
+There he found a slab of stone
+Just as the freak had said.
+He wondered how this could go unknown
+As the words on the stone he read,
+
+In the event of a flood
+This lesson should be learned
+Unless you like to live in mud,
+The valve must be turned.
+
+Below these words there was an arrow
+And it was pointing to the creek.
+The creek had begun to overflow.
+No doubt this was the source of the leak.
+
+The great man was indeed happy to learn
+How the flood had been produced.
+He found the valve and gave it a turn.
+And the water immediately was reduced.
+  _________________________________________________________________
+
+He went back up the muddy trail,
+And told the people what he had done.
+The people all gathered to hear his tale,
+And all were intrigued, but one.
+
+Knowledge is power, the great man began.
+A man who knows power is a man who is wise.
+The greater the problem, the greater the man
+Who can find the answer thats little in size.
+
+Great men do heroic deeds.
+Over the common men they tower.
+Great men are what this town needs...
+Men who face danger, and do not cower.
+
+I am a great man, but a hero am I?
+Thats a title I cannot claim.
+There are those whose talent we may deny,
+But they are heroes just the same.
+
+As they heard those words so profound,
+The people hailed the great man and cheered.
+The freak looked down at the ground.
+He knew to them he would always seem weird.
+
+The girls who argued about the sun walked by.
+They offered him words so sweet,
+Youre a nice man, theres no need to cry.
+Hes a great man, and he cant be beat.
+
+The freak looked at the girls and smiled.
+He could see that a leader is all they need.
+Its noble to protect the innocence of a child.
+Yes, he said, He is a great man indeed.
+
+The End
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg1330.txt

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+
+
+THE STORY OF LITTLE BLACK SAMBO
+
+and
+
+THE STORY OF LITTLE BLACK MINGO
+
+
+By Helen Bannerman
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+There is very little to say about the story of LITTLE BLACK SAMBO. Once
+upon a time there was an English lady in India, where black children
+abound and tigers are everyday affairs, who had two little girls. To
+amuse these little girls she used now and then to invent stories,
+for which, being extremely talented, she also drew and coloured the
+pictures. Among these stories LITTLE BLACK SAMBO, which was made up on
+a long railway journey, was the favourite; and it has been put into a
+DUMPY BOOK, and the pictures copies as exactly as possible, in the hope
+that you will like it as much as the two little girls did.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY OF LITTLE BLACK SAMBO.
+
+
+Once upon a time there was a little black boy, and his name was Little
+Black Sambo.
+
+And his mother was called Black Mumbo.
+
+And his father was called Black Jumbo.
+
+And Black Mumbo made him a beautiful little Red Coat, and a pair of
+beautiful little blue trousers.
+
+And Black Jumbo went to the Bazaar, and bought him a beautiful Green
+Umbrella, and a lovely little Pair of Purple Shoes with Crimson Soles
+and Crimson Linings.
+
+And then wasn’t Little Black Sambo grand?
+
+So he put on all his Fine Clothes, and went out for a walk in the
+Jungle. And by and by he met a Tiger. And the Tiger said to him, “Little
+Black Sambo, I’m going to eat you up!” And Little Black Sambo said, “Oh!
+Please Mr. Tiger, don’t eat me up, and I’ll give you my beautiful little
+Red Coat.” So the Tiger said, “Very well, I won’t eat you this time, but
+you must give me your beautiful little Red Coat.” So the Tiger got poor
+Little Black Sambo’s beautiful little Red Coat, and went away saying,
+“Now I’m the grandest Tiger in the Jungle.”
+
+And Little Black Sambo went on, and by and by he met another Tiger,
+and it said to him, “Little Black Sambo, I’m going to eat you up!” And
+Little Black Sambo said, “Oh! Please Mr. Tiger, don’t eat me up, and
+I’ll give you my beautiful little Blue Trousers.” So the Tiger said,
+“Very well, I won’t eat you this time, but you must give me your
+beautiful little Blue Trousers.” So the Tiger got poor Little Black
+Sambo’s beautiful little Blue Trousers, and went away saying, “Now I’m
+the grandest Tiger in the Jungle.”
+
+And Little Black Sambo went on, and by and by he met another Tiger,
+and it said to him, “Little Black Sambo, I’m going to eat you up!” And
+Little Black Sambo said, “Oh! Please Mr. Tiger, don’t eat me up, and
+I’ll give you my beautiful little Purple Shoes with Crimson Soles and
+Crimson Linings.”
+
+But the Tiger said, “What use would your shoes be to me? I’ve got four
+feet, and you’ve got only two; you haven’t got enough shoes for me.”
+
+But Little Black Sambo said, “You could wear them on your ears.”
+
+“So I could,” said the Tiger: “that’s a very good idea. Give them to me,
+and I won’t eat you this time.”
+
+So the Tiger got poor Little Black Sambo’s beautiful little Purple Shoes
+with Crimson Soles and Crimson Linings, and went away saying, “Now I’m
+the grandest Tiger in the Jungle.”
+
+And by and by Little Black Sambo met another Tiger, and it said to him,
+“Little Black Sambo, I’m going to eat you up!” And Little Black Sambo
+said, “Oh! Please Mr. Tiger, don’t eat me up, and I’ll give you my
+beautiful Green Umbrella.” But the Tiger said, “How can I carry an
+umbrella, when I need all my paws for walking with?”
+
+“You could tie a knot on your tail and carry it that way,” said Little
+Black Sambo. “So I could,” said the Tiger. “Give it to me, and I won’t
+eat you this time.” So he got poor Little Black Sambo’s beautiful Green
+Umbrella, and went away saying, “Now I’m the grandest Tiger in the
+Jungle.”
+
+And poor Little Black Sambo went away crying, because the cruel Tigers
+had taken all his fine clothes.
+
+Presently he heard a horrible noise that sounded like “Gr-r-r-r-rrrrrr,”
+ and it got louder and louder. “Oh! dear!” said Little Black Sambo,
+“there are all the Tigers coming back to eat me up! What shall I do?”
+ So he ran quickly to a palm-tree, and peeped round it to see what the
+matter was.
+
+And there he saw all the Tigers fighting, and disputing which of them
+was the grandest. And at last they all got so angry that they jumped
+up and took off all the fine clothes, and began to tear each other with
+their claws, and bite each other with their great big white teeth.
+
+And they came, rolling and tumbling right to the foot of the very tree
+where Little Black Sambo was hiding, but he jumped quickly in behind the
+umbrella. And the Tigers all caught hold of each other’s tails, as they
+wrangled and scrambled, and so they found themselves in a ring round the
+tree.
+
+Then, when the Tigers were very wee and very far away, Little Black
+Sambo jumped up, and called out, “Oh! Tigers! why have you taken off all
+your nice clothes? Don’t you want them any more?” But the Tigers only
+answered, “Gr-r-rrrr!”
+
+Then Little Black Sambo said, “If you want them, say so, or I’ll take
+them away.” But the Tigers would not let go of each other’s tails, and
+so they could only say “Gr-r-r-rrrrrr!”
+
+So Little Black Sambo put on all his fine clothes again and walked off.
+
+And the Tigers were very, very angry, but still they would not let go
+of each other’s tails. And they were so angry, that they ran round the
+tree, trying to eat each other up, and they ran faster and faster, till
+they were whirling round so fast that you couldn’t see their legs at
+all.
+
+And they still ran faster and faster and faster, till they all just
+melted away, and there was nothing left but a great big pool of melted
+butter (or “ghi,” as it is called in India) round the foot of the tree.
+
+Now Black Jumbo was just coming home from his work, with a great big
+brass pot in his arms, and when he saw what was left of all the Tigers
+he said, “Oh! what lovely melted butter! I’ll take that home to Black
+Mumbo for her to cook with.”
+
+So he put it all into the great big brass pot, and took it home to Black
+Mumbo to cook with.
+
+When Black Mumbo saw the melted butter, wasn’t she pleased! “Now,” said
+she, “we’ll all have pancakes for supper!”
+
+So she got flour and eggs and milk and sugar and butter, and she made a
+huge big plate of most lovely pancakes. And she fried them in the melted
+butter which the Tigers had made, and they were just as yellow and brown
+as little Tigers.
+
+And then they all sat down to supper. And Black Mumbo ate Twenty-seven
+pancakes, and Black Jumbo ate Fifty-five but Little Black Sambo ate a
+Hundred and Sixty-nine, because he was so hungry.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY OF LITTLE BLACK MINGO
+
+
+By Helen Bannerman
+
+
+
+
+Once upon a time there was a little black girl, and her name was Little
+Black Mingo.
+
+She had no father and mother, so she had to live with a horrid cross old
+woman called Black Noggy, who used to scold her every day, and sometimes
+beat her with a stick, even though she had done nothing naughty.
+
+One day Black Noggy called her, and said, “Take this chatty {ed. A
+chatty is a large ceramic vase used to carry water.} down to the river
+and fill it with water, and come back as fast as you can, QUICK NOW!”
+
+So Little Black Mingo took the chatty and ran down to the river as
+fast as she could, and began to fill it with water, when Cr-r-rrrack!!!
+Bang!!! A horrible big Mugger {ed. A Mugger is an alligator like
+creature.} poked its nose up through the bottom of the chatty and said
+“Ha, ha!! Little Mingo, I’m going to eat you up!”
+
+Little Black Mingo did not say anything. She turned and ran away as fast
+as ever she could, and the Mugger ran after her. But the broken chatty
+round his neck caught his paws, so he could not overtake her.
+
+But when she got back to Black Noggy, and told her how the Mugger had
+broken the chatty, Black Noggy was fearfully angry. “You naughty girl,”
+ she said, “you have broken the chatty yourself, I have a good mind to
+beat you.” And if she had not been in such a hurry for the water she
+WOULD have beaten her.
+
+Then she went and fetched the great big chatty that the dhobi used to
+boil the clothes in. “Take this,” said she, “and mind you don’t break
+it, or I WILL beat you.”
+
+“But I can’t carry that when it is full of water,” said Little Black
+Mingo.
+
+“You must go twice, and bring it half full each time,” said Black Noggy.
+
+So Little Black Mingo took the dhobi’s great big chatty, and started
+again to go to the river. But first she went to a little bank above the
+river, and peeped up and down, to see if she could see the old Mugger
+anywhere. But she could not see him, for he was hiding under the very
+bank she was standing on, and though his tail stuck out a little she
+never saw him at all.
+
+She would have liked to run home, but she was too much afraid that Black
+Noggy would beat her.
+
+So Little Black Mingo crept down to the river, and began to fill the big
+chatty with water. And while she was filling it the Mugger came creeping
+softly down behind her and caught her by the tail, saying, “Aha, Little
+Black Mingo, now I’ve got you.”
+
+And Little Black Mingo said, “Oh! Please don’t eat me up, great big
+Mugger.”
+
+“What will you give me, if I don’t eat you up?” said the Mugger. But
+Little Black Mingo was so poor she had nothing to give. So the Mugger
+caught her in his great cruel mouth and swam away with her to an island
+in the middle of the river and set her down beside a huge pile of eggs.
+
+“Those are my eggs,” said he; “to-morrow a little mugger will come out
+of each, and then we will have a great feast, and we will eat you up.”
+
+Then he waddled off to catch fish for himself, and left Little Black
+Mingo alone beside the big pile of eggs.
+
+And Little Black Mingo sat down on a big stone and hid her face in her
+hands, and cried bitterly, because she couldn’t swim and she didn’t know
+how to get away.
+
+Presently she heard a queer little squeaky noise that sounded like
+“Squeak, Squeak, Squeak!!! Oh Little Black Mingo, help me or I shall be
+drowned.” She got up and looked to see what was calling, and she saw
+a bush coming floating down the river with something wriggling and
+scrambling about in it, and as it came near she saw that it was a
+Mongoose that was in the bush. So she waded out as far as she could, and
+caught hold of the bush and pulled it in, and the poor Mongoose crawled
+up her arm on to her shoulder, and she carried him to shore.
+
+When they got to shore the Mongoose shook himself, and Little Black
+Mingo wrung out her petticoat, and so they both very soon got dry.
+
+The Mongoose then began to poke about for something to eat, and very
+soon he found the great big pile of Mugger’s eggs. “Oh, joy!” said he,
+“what’s this?”
+
+“Those are Mugger’s eggs,” said Little Black Mingo.
+
+“I’m not afraid of Muggers!” said the Mongoose; and he sat down and
+began to crack the eggs, and eat the little muggers as they came out.
+And he threw the shells into the water, so that the old Mugger should
+not see that any one had been eating them. But he was careless, and he
+left one eggshell on the edge, and he was hungry and he ate so many that
+the pile got much smaller, and when the old Mugger came back he saw at
+once that some one had been meddling with them.
+
+So he ran to Little Black Mingo, and said, “How dare you eat my eggs?”
+
+“Indeed, indeed I didn’t,” said Little Black Mingo.
+
+“Then who could it have been?” said the Mugger, and he ran back to the
+eggs as fast as he could, and sure enough when he got back he found the
+Mongoose had eaten a whole lot more!!
+
+Then he said to himself, “I must stay beside my eggs till they are
+hatched into little muggers, or the Mongoose will eat them all.” So he
+curled himself into a ring round the eggs and went to sleep.
+
+But while he was asleep the Mongoose came to eat some more of the eggs,
+and ate as many as he wanted, and when the Mugger woke this time, oh!
+WHAT a rage he was in, for there were only six eggs left! He roared so
+loud that all the little muggers inside the shells gnashed their teeth,
+and tried to roar too.
+
+Then he said, “I know what I’ll do, I’ll fetch Little Black Mingo’s big
+chatty and cover my eggs with that, then the Mongoose won’t be able to
+get at them.” So he swam across to the shore, and fetched the dhobi’s
+big chatty, and covered the eggs with it. “Now, you wicked little
+Mongoose, come and eat my eggs if you can,” said he, and he went off
+quite proud and happy.
+
+By and by the Mongoose came back, and he was terribly disappointed when
+he found the eggs all covered with the big chatty.
+
+So he ran off to Little Black Mingo, and asked her to help him, and
+Little Black Mingo came and took the big chatty off the eggs, and the
+Mongoose ate them every one.
+
+“Now,” said he, “there will be no little muggers to make a feast for
+tomorrow.”
+
+“No,” said Little Black Mingo, “but the Mugger will eat me all by
+himself I am afraid.”
+
+“No he won’t,” said the Mongoose, “for we will sail away together in the
+big chatty before he comes back.”
+
+So he climbed on to the edge of the chatty, and Little Black Mingo
+pushed the chatty out into the water, and then she clambered into it and
+paddled with her two hands as hard as she could, and the big chatty just
+sailed beautifully.
+
+So they got across safely, and Little Black Mingo filled the chatty
+half full of water and took it on her head, and they went up the bank
+together.
+
+But when the Mugger came back, and found only empty egg-shells he was
+fearfully angry. He roared and he raged, and he howled and he yelled,
+till the whole island shook, and his tears ran down his cheeks and
+pattered on the sand like rain.
+
+So he started to chase Little Black Mingo and the Mongoose, and he swam
+across the river as fast as ever he could, and when he was half way
+across he saw them landing, and as he landed they hurried over the first
+ridge.
+
+So he raced after them, but they ran, and just before he caught them
+they got into the house, and banged the door in his face. Then they shut
+all the windows, so he could not get in anywhere.
+
+“All right,” said he, “you will have to come out some time, and then I
+will catch you both, and eat you up.”
+
+So he hid behind the back of the house and waited.
+
+Now Black Noggy was just coming home from the bazaar with a tin of
+kerosene on her head, and a box of matches in her hand.
+
+And when he saw her the Mugger rushed out and gobbled her up, kerosene
+tin, matches and all!!!
+
+When Black Noggy found herself in the Muggers’ dark inside, she wanted
+to see where she was, so she felt for the match-box and took out a match
+and lit it. But the Mugger’s teeth had made holes in the kerosene tin,
+so that the flame of the match caught the kerosene, and BANG!! the
+kerosene exploded, and blew the old Mugger and Black Noggy into little
+bits.
+
+At the fearful noise Little Black Mingo and the Mongoose came running
+out, and there they found Black Noggy and the old Mugger all blown to
+bits.
+
+So Little Black Mingo and the Mongoose got the nice little house for
+their very own, and there they lived happy ever after. And Little Black
+Mingo got the Mugger’s beard for her seat, and the Mongoose got Black
+Noggy’s handkerchief for his. But he was so wee he used to put it on the
+Mugger’s nose, and there they sat, and had their tea every evening.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg13424.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,119 @@
+
+
+HONORING PARENTS
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+HONORING PARENTS.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+_Prepared for the Massachusetts S.S. Society, and revised by the
+Committee of Publication._
+
+BOSTON:
+
+MASS. SABBATH SCHOOL SOCIETY,
+Depository, No. 13 Cornhill.
+
+1851.
+
+
+
+
+HONORING PARENTS.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+I suppose all my young readers have learned the fifth commandment,
+and have often been told that children should honor their parents by
+cheerful and prompt obedience to all their commands. This is one way in
+which parents should be honored continually.
+
+But there is another way by which you may not only show that you feel
+respect for your father and mother yourself, but you may force others to
+feel the same respect for them.
+
+That you may understand what I mean, I will tell you a story of a little
+boy who, for _once_, at least in his life, honored his mother. This
+was not by any command, however, for she was not with him at the time,
+and I do not suppose that she ever heard of the circumstance which I am
+about to tell you.
+
+One morning, a teacher entered her school of about sixty children,
+accompanied by another young lady,--her friend. The children did not
+cluster around as thickly as usual. Some quietly took their seats; and
+others, disliking the restraint of a stranger's presence, ran into the
+play-ground. But nine o'clock soon came; and the teacher, having
+conducted her friend to a seat where she might observe what passed
+around her, rang a small bell, and the seats were soon filled with rosy
+cheeks and smiling countenances. The morning hymn was sung, and then all
+knelt to implore the blessing of him who loved little children when he
+was in the world, and who loves them no less now he is in heaven. They
+rose from their knees; and soon the teacher was busied with classes, and
+the children who could study, with their books.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Miss H. (the stranger) soon became interested in watching the movement
+of six or eight little boys, of four years old, who occupied a low bench
+near her. The smallest of these was a little black-eyed boy, who moved
+about on the seat as much as any one, and made rather more than his
+share of noise. He had a little book of pictures, which he was eagerly
+displaying to the little ones around him; and several times had his
+earnest explanations been interrupted by the voice of the teacher,
+saying, "Willy, my dear, you must look at the pictures without talking;"
+when a rude boy stepped up and snatched it from his hand.
+
+Now, what would you have done, if you had been in Willy's place just
+then? Would you have struck your naughty little playmate, or called him
+bad names? or should you have tried to snatch the book back again? Willy
+knew a better way. He looked troubled, indeed, at first. He asked for
+the book in a very coaxing tone; but when he found that the selfish
+Henry would not give it up, he quietly turned away to find amusement
+in something else.
+
+A little girl, who sat near, now handed Willy a large yellow-covered
+book, full of beautiful painted pictures. His eyes now sparkled more
+brightly than ever, as he began to turn over the leaves. Soon Henry
+spied the pretty book; and not at all ashamed of his unkindness, he
+moved towards Willy, and began to look over his shoulder. Would you not
+have pushed him away, or at least have turned round so as to conceal the
+book? But Willy held it towards him and pointed to the bright pictures
+as pleasantly as if Henry had never been unkind to him.
+
+When school had closed, and the children had left the room, Miss H. said
+to the teacher, "Who is that little boy you called Willy?" "His name is
+William D----," said the teacher; "but why do you wish to know?"
+"Because I know he has a _good mother_," was the reply.
+
+Now, how did this stranger, who never spoke to the little boy in her
+life, know that he had a good mother? Was it not by his kind and
+forgiving conduct to Henry? Yes; she knew that some good mother had
+taught little Willy not to return evil for evil, but to do good to those
+that used him spitefully. It was true, Willy's mother loved the meek and
+forgiving Saviour, and tried to teach her little boy to love him and be
+like him. And was she not honored, when the conduct of her son told
+every one that he had a good mother?
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Dear children, can you not thus honor _your_ parents? But instead
+of this, some children take the opportunity, when they are away from
+their parents, to disobey all their wishes and instructions, and thus
+lead those who see them to suppose that they have not been taught to
+do right. O, how dreadful, that the conduct of a child should cause a
+stranger to say, "I know he has a _bad_ mother!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg13494.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,581 @@
+
+
+Fables for the Times.
+
+_By_ H.W. Phillips.
+
+_Illustrated by_ T.R. Sullivant.
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+The Baa-Sheep and the Lion
+The Dog and the Meat
+The Fox and the Grapes
+The Fox and the Crow
+The Ass in the Lion's Skin
+The Horse and the Oyster
+The Monkey and the Ass
+The Merchant and the Fool
+The Wolf and the Sheep
+The Ambitious Hippopotamus
+The Man and the Serpent
+The Appreciative Man
+On the Not-Altogether-Credible Habits of the Ostrich
+The Idol and the Ass
+The Bee and Jupiter
+The Lion and the Boar
+The Tiger and the Deer
+The Old Man, His Son and the Ass
+The Shipwrecked Traveler
+The Discontented Woman
+
+
+
+
+The Baa-Sheep and the Lion.
+
+
+A baa-sheep was lying under the paw of a black-maned lion. Whatever was
+going to be done had to be done quickly. A thought flashed upon the sheep
+and he said:
+
+"Most dread lord and master, I have heard your voice extolled beyond that
+of all others. Will you not sing me a little selection from Wagner before I
+die?"
+
+The lion, touched in his vanity, immediately started up and roared away
+until the goose-flesh stood out on the rocks. When he had finished, the
+sheep was in tears.
+
+"What means this?" growled the lion in a rage. "Do you presume to criticise
+my singing?"
+
+"Oh, no!" sobbed the sheep. "That is not it. But I have heard that wool was
+the worst thing in the world for the voice, and when I think of the ruin of
+that beautiful organ of yours, consequent upon eating me, I weep to think
+that I was not born hairless."
+
+The lion regarded him out of the corner of his eye. Then, in his grandest
+manner, said: "Run along home to your ma, little sheep; I was only playing
+with you," and walked off through the forest with a great deal of dignity.
+
+[Illustration: The Baa-Sheep and the Lion.]
+
+
+
+
+The Dog and the Meat.
+
+
+A dog with a piece of meat in his mouth was crossing a bridge over a placid
+stream. On looking down he saw another dog with a precisely similar piece
+of meat in the water below him. "That's a singular incident," he thought to
+himself as he prepared to jump in. "But hold a minute! The angle of
+incidence is always equal to the angle of reflection. Upon reflection, I
+find that the other dog and the meat are only optical phenomena." And he
+trotted on his way to Boston without further thought about the matter.
+
+[Illustration: The Dog and the Meat.]
+
+
+
+
+The Fox and the Grapes.
+
+
+A fox stood under an apple-tree and gazed up earnestly at the globes of
+yellow lusciousness. "How sad, for the sake of an old-time piece of
+literature," he said, "that the fox is a carnivorous animal and doesn't
+care particularly about fruit!"
+
+
+IMMORAL:
+
+We all have plenty of faults without the Truly Good taking the trouble to
+invent them for us.
+
+[Illustration: The Fox and the Grapes.]
+
+
+
+
+The Fox and the Crow.
+
+
+A crow, having stolen a piece of flesh, perched in a tree to enjoy it at
+leisure. A fox saw her, and, being hungry, thought he would employ a little
+diplomacy to get the meat away from her.
+
+"What a prima-donna the crow would be," he said, looking at her with mock
+admiration, "if she only had a voice proportional to her other
+attractions!"
+
+The crow promptly dropped the piece of flesh on his head, completely
+blinding him, and before he could recover from his surprise, lit on his
+back and began to peck him viciously. "I'll have you to know," she cawed,
+"that I'm a proper lady, and the man that compares me to them shameless
+French singing hussies is going to get hurt."
+
+
+IMMORAL:
+
+Don't praise the soft whiteness of a labor delegate's hands.
+
+[Illustration: The Fox and the Crow.]
+
+
+
+
+The Ass in the Lion's Skin.
+
+
+An ass, by some means unknown to the writer, having managed to get into a
+lion's skin, ran around the neighborhood frightening the beasts into fits.
+When he brayed, they said: "Jupiter! what a magnificent bass voice he has!"
+and he was the pantata of that district until he died of old age.
+
+
+IMMORAL:
+
+A good bluff, well chucked, is liable to do considerable execution.
+
+[Illustration: The Ass in the Lion's Skin.]
+
+
+
+
+The Horse and the Oyster.
+
+
+A very prancy horse, discovering an oyster on the sea-shore, thought to
+show off a little and make the oyster envious.
+
+After he had done some surprising leaps and curvetings, he went up to the
+oyster, and, with a toss of his head, said:
+
+"There! what do you think of that?"
+
+"You must excuse me," answered the bivalve, "but I have been blind from
+birth, and missed the whole show."
+
+
+IMMORAL:
+
+Of what use is a dress suit in the Desert of Sahara?
+
+[Illustration: The Horse and the Oyster.]
+
+
+
+
+The Monkey and the Ass.
+
+An ass, having seen a monkey doing tricks on a roof, to the edification of
+the villagers, became envious, and essayed to emulate his more agile rival.
+
+The roof broke under his greater weight, and he fell through on his master,
+squashing him flatter than a pan-cake. Thenceforward, having no one to say
+him nay, he lived a life of peace and plenty, coming and going at his own
+sweet will, while the monkey was captured by an organ grinder and works
+eighteen hours a day.
+
+
+IMMORAL:
+
+People are not always such asses as they seem to us.
+
+[Illustration: The Monkey and the Ass.]
+
+
+
+
+The Merchant and the Fool.
+
+
+A merchant of horses was driving his stock to the market. On the road he
+met a venerable old fool, who offered to buy his entire stock.
+
+"It is this way," said the intended purchaser, "I will take your horses
+now, and whenever I find use for one, I will send you the money for it."
+
+"Now the gods be lenient to folly!" exclaimed the indignant merchant.
+"Man, Man! where in the realm of idiocy did you get your knowledge of
+business?"
+
+"I ran a pay-on-publication journal for ten years," said the fool with
+asperity.
+
+But the merchant had vanished in a cloud of oaths and dust.
+
+[Illustration: The Merchant and the Fool.]
+
+
+
+
+The Wolf and the Sheep.
+
+
+A wolf that had been left for dead by the dogs lay not far from a running
+brook. He felt that one good drink might save his life. Just then a sheep
+passed near.
+
+"Pray, sister," said he very gently, but with a sinister twinkle of his eye
+teeth, "bring me some water from yon stream."
+
+"Certainly," said the sheep, and she brought him a glass in which she had
+poured a few knock-out drops. As she sat on his corpse a little later she
+moralized in this manner: "Some clever people are wicked, but all wicked
+people are not clever by a d----d sight."
+
+[Illustration: The Wolf and the Sheep.]
+
+
+
+
+The Ambitious Hippopotamus.
+
+
+A hippopotamus who had dwelt contentedly for years on the banks of a reedy
+stream, looked up one day and saw an eagle.
+
+She became immediately fired with a desire to fly. Having lived a staid and
+respectable life that could not but find favor in the eyes of the gods, she
+raised her voice in prayer.
+
+Jove smiled a little, but granted her request.
+
+On the instant a pair of broad, powerful wings were affixed to her
+shoulders.
+
+She was naturally a trifle nervous about trying them at first, but finally
+mustered up her courage.
+
+Away she swooped, and with a pardonable vanity took her course over a piece
+of jungle where some old friends lived.
+
+Precisely thirty-eight seconds later a convention of animals, all swearing
+and trembling with fright, were trying to conceal themselves in the same
+three-by-four hole in the ground.
+
+The effect on the other animals disconcerted the good-natured hippopotamus
+to such an extent that she lost control of herself and sailed through the
+forest like an avalanche on a bender. Down went the trees and crack went
+the branches, while horror-stricken beasts with bristling hair split the
+welkin with their shrieks.
+
+The hippopotamus made for home at her best speed. Arriving over the
+familiar spot, she let go all holds and came down ker-splash in the mud,
+knocking the astonished little hippopotamuses out into mid-stream.
+
+"Oh, Jupiter! take 'em off!" she gasped. "I now see that the hippopotamus
+was not intended to fly."
+
+
+IMMORAL:
+
+It takes more than nine bloomers to make a man.
+
+[Illustration: The Ambitious Hippopotamus.]
+
+
+
+
+The Man and the Serpent.
+
+
+A man, who had lived a beautiful purple life, went to sleep under a tree in
+the forest. Jove sent a huge serpent to destroy him. The man awakened as
+the reptile drew near.
+
+"What a horrid sight!" he said. "But let us be thankful that the
+pink-and-green elephant and the feathered hippopotamus are not also in
+evidence."
+
+And he took a dose of bromide and commended himself again to sleep, while
+the serpent withdrew in some confusion.
+
+
+WHAT THIS PROVES TO A THINKING MIND:
+
+Jove himself couldn't get a job as Sunday-School Superintendent on his
+reputation.
+
+[Illustration: The Man and the Serpent.]
+
+
+
+
+The Appreciative Man.
+
+
+A man stood in the archway of an ancient temple. He took in the wonderful
+proportions and drank of the exquisite detail in an ecstasy of delight.
+
+"Oh, great is art!" he cried in a frenzy. "Art is all! the only God!"
+
+Just then an earthquake came mumbling along and jarred the whole country
+loose.
+
+As the man picked himself out of the jumbled-up ruins into the dust-filled
+air, he encountered a lion who had lost his tail and his temper in the
+_mélée_.
+
+"Well, where's your art now?" snarled the lion.[1]
+
+"All in my eye, I reckon," answered the man, as he bathed his damaged
+optic.
+
+[Illustration: The Appreciative Man.]
+
+
+
+
+On the Not-Altogether-Credible Habits of the Ostrich.
+
+
+An ostrich, who was closely pursued by a hunter, suddenly thrust his head
+deep down into the sand.
+
+"Ah! ah!" exulted the hunter, "I have the silly thing at last." He advanced
+to place a rope around the bird's legs; but the ostrich, who had accurately
+timed his arrival, landed a kick in the pit of his stomach that sent him
+into the hereafter like a bullet through a fog-bank.
+
+
+IMMORAL:
+
+"Umph," said the ostrich as he surveyed his victim, "because a man looks
+sad at the opening of a jack-pot, it doesn't necessarily follow that he's
+only got ace-high."
+
+[Illustration: On the Not-Altogether-Credible Habits of the Ostrich.]
+
+
+
+
+The Idol and the Ass.
+
+
+An ass felt it his duty to destroy superstition, so he went up to the brass
+idol in the market-place and gave it a vigorous kick.
+
+A dog came to him as he lay groaning on the ground, nursing his broken leg,
+and said, "Well, did you prove anything?"
+
+"Nothing," said the other. "Except that I am an ass."
+
+Deductions to be drawn: Any old thing.
+
+[Illustration: The Idol and the Ass.]
+
+
+
+
+The Bee and Jupiter.
+
+
+A Bee, the queen of all the hives, ascended to Olympus with a present of
+some super-refined honey for Jupiter.
+
+The god was delighted with the honey, and in return offered to grant any
+request the Bee might make.
+
+"Give to me, I pray, O Lord of the Heavens! a sting, that, small and weak
+as I am, I may not be defenceless against my enemies."
+
+Jupiter was quite put out at this demand, as he knew the weapon would be
+used principally against mankind, whom he much loved. But a god's promise
+must be kept, so he said:
+
+"It is granted you."
+
+"Many thanks, most potent one!" cried the Bee, running the new-gained
+weapon in and out with much satisfaction.
+
+Jupiter sternly cut short her thanks, and continued:
+
+"In using this means of defense and offense you will imperil your own life,
+for the sting shall remain in the wound it makes and you shall die from the
+loss of it."
+
+The Bee flew around for a moment, and then lit on the back of the god's
+neck.
+
+"You will kindly reconsider that last clause," she said, "or," in a very
+meaning tone, "I die right here."
+
+Jupiter felt a cold chill take its agitated way up his spinal column.
+
+"All right," he said, hastily. "I don't want to be small about it. Have it
+your own way. Only please get off my neck!"
+
+The Bee went joyously back to earth, humming a song of praise.
+
+
+IMMORAL:
+
+How to play a cinch (Hoyle). "Put both feet on the encircled object.
+Rosin the hands, take a long breath and _Pull_."
+
+[Illustration: The Bee and Jupiter.]
+
+
+
+
+The Lion and the Boar.
+
+
+One Sunday, when the new administration had induced a general thirst, a
+lion and a boar came at the same moment to a corner spring to drink.
+
+"Have one with me," said the lion. "No, sir; this is on me," said the boar.
+From words they came to blows, and while they were in the press of combat
+the clock struck one A.M. and they had to go home cold-sober and disgusted.
+
+
+IMMORAL:
+
+Reform is just the thing for angels.
+
+[Illustration: The Lion and the Boar.]
+
+
+
+
+The Tiger and the Deer.
+
+
+One day a tiger, who had grown remorseful over his murderous career,
+resolved to turn over a new leaf and live on terms of friendly interest
+with the other animals of the forest.
+
+He started out on a campaign of pacification. The first animal he met was
+the deer, whom he addressed in the most courteous and beautiful of
+language, assuring him of his undying affection.
+
+"Bunco!" yelled the deer, as he skipped away from there at the rate of ten
+seconds in even time.
+
+
+IMMORAL:
+
+It is useless to attempt to gain the good-will of suspicious characters.
+
+[Illustration: The Tiger and the Deer.]
+
+
+
+
+The Old Man, His Son and the Ass.
+
+
+An old man and his little boy were once driving an ass to the market-place.
+"What's the matter with one of you riding?" said a passer-by. So the man
+put his boy on the ass and they went on. The next person they met said it
+was a shame to see a boy ride while an old man walked. The man lifted the
+boy off and got on himself. This also excited adverse comment, and the man
+took the boy up behind him. The next critic was a member of the S.P.C.A.,
+and he upbraided them both roundly, saying that they would better carry the
+ass than he them. Thereupon they tied the ass's legs to a long pole and
+carried him between them. While crossing the bridge, into the town, the
+man stumbled and the ass fell into the water and was drowned. They
+promptly sued the city for damages, and compromised on $263, more than
+eight times the value of the ass.
+
+
+IMMORAL:
+
+Hard luck cannot touch smooth people.
+
+[Illustration: The Old Man, His Son and the Ass.]
+
+
+
+
+The Shipwrecked Traveler.
+
+
+A man who had traveled over many countries was shipwrecked off the coast of
+Opera land. After a desperate battle with the waves he managed to near the
+shore where the cruel waves played with him like a cat with a mouse. He
+would pull himself up the beach, half fainting, and a great, dancing,
+hissing breaker would pounce upon him and drive him back.
+
+He called for help until the inhabitants espied him.
+
+They came in a group, the women costumed as milkmaids and the men as
+cavaliers.
+
+After making about twenty feet the company stopped.
+
+"Oh! save him, save him!" sang the soprano.
+
+"Yes, yes! we will save him!" sang back the tenor.
+
+Then everybody sang "Save him, save him; oh, yes, we will save him, save
+him from _the sea_!!!"
+
+The sopranos took a B flat on the last note, while the tenors and altos
+rambled up and down the scale and the bassos bombarded the theme with their
+deepest chest tones.
+
+In the meantime the traveler had been washed out to sea. As the next wave
+brought him to the strand the company advanced once more a short distance,
+and began.
+
+"In the name of Mercy, help me!" screamed the drowning man.
+
+"Oh, hear his piteous cry," sang the tenors, and the prima donna stepped
+out and sang a beautiful aria beginning "Now the cruel waves advancing."
+After she had finished the bass got in front of the company.
+
+He described how his strong arm had plucked the stranger from a watery
+grave, and advanced to the beach to suit the action to the words.
+
+But, alas! the traveler had given up the ghost several minutes before. Then
+the company sang a miserere and went home to lunch.
+
+
+IMMORAL:
+
+The finest of Raphael's canvases would make a poor overcoat.
+
+[Illustration: The Shipwrecked Traveler.]
+
+
+
+
+The Discontented Woman.
+
+
+A woman who was dissatisfied with her husband loudly petitioned Jove to
+send her another. The god listened favorably to her petition and sent her
+a demigod.
+
+In less than a week the woman was bewailing her lot again, saying she never
+cared for mixed goods anyhow, and that while the god-half of her present
+husband might be all right, the man-half snored and chewed tobacco. Jove,
+wearied by her ill-humored persistency, took back the demi-god and sent her
+a man out of the Yellow Book for husband, instead.
+
+Up to the present writing the lady in question hasn't discovered where she
+is at.
+
+
+IMMORAL:
+
+Hysterics and Art are only relations by marriage.
+
+[Illustration: The Discontented Woman.]
+
+[Footnote 1: (editorial note) This was corrected from the original, which
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

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@@ -0,0 +1,276 @@
+
+
+No. 556
+
+DANGERS ON THE ICE OFF THE COAST OF LABRADOR
+
+With Some Interesting Particulars Respecting the Natives of that Country
+
+Printed for the Religious Tract Society
+
+London
+
+[Price One Penny]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+The Moravian Missionaries on the coast of Labrador (a part of North
+America) for many years suffered much from the severity of the climate,
+and the savage disposition of the natives. In the year 1782, the
+brethren, Liebisch and Turner, experienced a remarkable preservation of
+their lives; the particulars show the dangers the Missionaries underwent
+in pursuing their labours. To this Narrative are added some further
+particulars, which show their labours were not without success.
+
+Early on March the 11th, they left Nain to go to Okkak, a journey of
+150 miles. They travelled in a sledge drawn by dogs, and another sledge
+with Esquimaux joined them, the whole party consisting of five men, one
+woman, and a child. The weather was remarkably fine, and the track over
+the frozen sea was in the best order, so that they travelled at the
+rate of six or seven miles an hour. All therefore were in good spirits,
+hoping to reach Okkak in two or three days. Having passed the islands
+in the bay, they kept at a considerable distance from the shore, both
+to gain the smoothest part of the ice, and to avoid the high and rocky
+promontory of Kiglapeit. About eight o'clock they met a sledge with
+Esquimaux driving towards the land, who intimated that it might be well
+not to proceed; but as the missionaries saw no reason for it, they paid
+no regard to these hints, and went on. In a while, however, their own
+Esquimaux remarked, that there was a swell under the ice. It was then
+hardly perceptible, except on applying the ear close to the ice, when a
+hollow grating and roaring noise was heard. The weather remained clear,
+and no sudden change was expected. But the motion of the sea under the
+ice had grown so perceptible as rather to alarm our travellers, and they
+began to think it prudent to keep closer to the shore. The ice in many
+places had fissures and cracks, some of which formed chasms of one or
+two feet wide; but as they are not uncommon, and the dogs easily leap
+over them, the sledge following without danger, they are terrible only
+to new comers.
+
+As soon as the sun declined, the wind increased and rose to a storm.
+The snow was driven about by whirl winds, both on the ice and from off
+the peaks of the high mountains, and filled the air. At the same time
+the swell had increased so much, that its effects upon the ice became
+very extraordinary and alarming. The sledges, instead of gliding along
+smoothly upon an even surface, sometimes ran with violence after the
+dogs, and shortly after seemed with difficulty to ascend the rising
+hill; for the elasticity of so vast a body of ice, of many leagues
+square, supported by a troubled sea, though in some places three or four
+yards in thickness, would, in some degree, occasion a motion not unlike
+that of a sheet of paper upon the surface of a rippling stream. Noises
+were now likewise heard in many directions, like the report of cannon,
+owing to the bursting of the ice at some distance.
+
+The Esquimaux drove with all haste towards the shore, as it plainly
+appeared the ice would break and disperse in the open sea. When the
+sledges approached the coast, the prospect before them was truly
+terrific. The ice, having broken loose from the rocks, was forced up
+and down, grinding and breaking into a thousand pieces against the
+precipices, with a tremendous noise, which, added to the raging of
+the wind, and the snow driving about in the air, nearly deprived the
+travellers of the power of hearing and seeing any thing distinctly.
+
+To make the land at any risk, was now the only hope left, but it was
+with the utmost difficulty the frighted dogs could be forced forward,
+the whole body of the ice sinking frequently below the rocks, then
+rising above them. As the only moment to land was that when the ice
+gained the level of the shore, the attempt was extremely nice and
+hazardous. However, by God's mercy, it succeeded; both sledges gained
+the shore, and were drawn up the beach, though with much difficulty.
+
+The travellers had hardly time to reflect with gratitude to God for
+their safety, when that part of the ice from which they had just now
+made good their landing, burst asunder, and the water forcing itself
+from below, covered and precipitated it into the sea. In an instant,
+the whole mass of ice, extending for several miles from the coast, and
+as far as the eye could reach, burst, and was overwhelmed by the rolling
+waves. The sight was tremendous and awfully grand; the large fields of
+ice raising themselves out of the water, striking against each other,
+and plunging into the deep, with a violence not to be described, and a
+noise like the discharge of innumerable batteries of heavy guns. The
+darkness of the night; the roaring of the wind and the sea, and the
+dashing of the waves and ice against the rocks, filled the travellers
+with sensations of awe and horror, so as almost to deprive them of the
+power of utterance. They stood overwhelmed with astonishment at their
+miraculous escape, and even the heathen Esquimaux expressed gratitude
+to God for their deliverance.
+
+The Esquimaux now began to build a hut with snow, about thirty paces
+from the beach, but before they had finished their work, the waves
+reached the place where the sledges were secured, and they were with
+difficulty saved from being washed into the sea. About nine o'clock
+all of them crept into the snow-house, thanking God for this place
+of refuge; for the wind was piercingly cold, and so violent, that it
+required great strength to stand against it.
+
+Before they entered this habitation, they could not help once more
+turning their eyes to the sea, which was now free from ice. They beheld
+with horror, mingled with gratitude for their safety, the enormous waves
+driving furiously before the wind and approaching the shore, where with
+dreadful noise they dashed against the rocks, foaming and filling the
+air with spray. The whole company now got their supper, and having sung
+an evening hymn in the Esquimaux language, lay down to rest about ten
+o'clock. The Esquimaux were soon fast asleep, but brother Liebisch
+could not get any rest, partly on account of the dreadful roaring of
+the wind, and partly owing to a sore throat, which gave him much pain.
+His wakefulness proved the deliverance of the whole party from sudden
+destruction. About two o'clock in the morning, he perceived some salt
+water dropping from the roof of the snow-house upon his lips. On a
+sudden, a tremendous wave broke close to the house, discharging a
+quantity of water into it; a second soon followed, and carried away
+the slab of snow placed as a door before the entrance. The missionaries
+having roused the sleeping Esquimaux, they instantly set to work, One of
+them with a knife cut a passage through the house, and each seizing some
+part of the baggage, threw it out on a higher part of the beach; brother
+Turner assisting them. Brother Liebisch and the woman and child fled
+to a neighbouring eminence. The latter were wrapt up by the Esquimaux
+in a large skin, and the former took shelter behind a rock, for it was
+impossible to stand against the wind, snow, and sleet. Scarcely had the
+company retreated, when an enormous wave carried away the whole house.
+
+They now found themselves a second time delivered from the most imminent
+danger of death; but the remaining part of the night, before the
+Esquimaux could seek and find another and safer place for a snow-house,
+were hours of great distress and very painful reflections. Before the
+day dawned, the Esquimaux cut a hole in a large drift of snow, to serve
+as a shelter to the woman and child and the two missionaries. Brother
+Liebisch, however, owing to the pain in his throat, could not bear the
+closeness of the air, and was obliged to sit down at the entrance,
+being covered with skins, to guard him against the cold. As soon as
+it was light, they built another snow-house, and miserable as such an
+accommodation must be, they were glad and thankful to creep into it.
+
+The missionaries had taken but a small stock of provisions with them,
+merely sufficient for the short journey to Okkak. Joel, his wife and
+child, and Kassigiak, a heathen sorcerer, who was with them, had
+nothing. They were obliged therefore to divide the small stock into
+daily portions, especially as there appeared no hopes of soon quitting
+this place and reaching any dwellings. They therefore resolved to serve
+out no more than a biscuit and a half per day to each. The missionaries
+remained in the snowhouse, and every day endeavoured to boil so much
+water over their lamps, as might supply them with two cups of coffee
+a-piece. Through mercy they were preserved in good health, and, quite
+unexpectedly, brother Liebisch recovered on the first day of his sore
+throat. The Esquimaux also kept up their spirits, and even Kassigiak,
+though a wild heathen, declared; that it was proper to be thankful that
+they were still alive; adding, that if they had remained a little longer
+on the ice yesterday all their bones would have been broken in a short
+time.
+
+Towards noon of the 13th, the weather cleared up, and the sea was seen
+as far as the eye could reach, quite clear and free from ice; but the
+weather being very stormy, the Esquimaux could not quit the snow-house,
+which made them very low-spirited and melancholy. They, however, possess
+one advantage, namely, the power of going to sleep when they please,
+and, if need be, they will sleep for days and night together.
+
+In the evening of the 15th, the sky became clear, and their hopes
+revived. Mark and Joel went out to reconnoitre, and reported that the
+ice had acquired a considerable degree of solidity, and might soon
+afford a safe passage. The poor dogs had now nearly fasted four days,
+but in the prospect of a speedy release, the missionaries allowed to
+each a few morsels of food. The temperature of the air having been
+rather mild, it occasioned new source of distress, for, from the warmth
+of the inhabitants, the roof of the snow-house began to melt, which
+occasioned a continual dropping, and by degrees made every thing soaking
+wet. The missionaries considered this the greatest hardship they had to
+endure, for they had not a dry thread about them, nor a dry place to
+lie in.
+
+On the 16th, early, the sky cleared, but the fine particles of snow were
+driven about like clouds. Their present distress dictated the necessity
+of venturing something to reach the habitations of men, and yet they
+were rather afraid of passing over the newly frozen sea, and could not
+determine what to do. Brother Turner went again with Mark to examine the
+ice, and both seemed satisfied that it had acquired sufficient strength.
+They therefore came to a final resolution to return to Nain, committing
+themselves to the protection of the Lord.
+
+Notwithstanding the wind had considerably increased, accompanied with
+heavy showers of snow and sleet, they ventured to set off at half past
+ten o'clock in the forenoon of the 19th. Mark ran all the way round
+Kiglapeit before the sledge to find a good track, and about one o'clock,
+through God's mercy, they were out of danger and reached the Bay.
+Here they found a good track upon smooth ice, and made a meal upon the
+remnant of their provisions. Thus refreshed, they resolved to proceed
+without stopping till they reached Nain, where they arrived at twelve
+o'clock at night.
+
+It may easily be conceived with what gratitude to God the whole family
+at Nain bade them welcome. During the storm, they had considered with
+some dread, what might be the fate of their brethren, though its
+violence was not felt so much there. Added to this, the hints of the
+Esquimaux had considerably increased their apprehensions for their
+safety, and their fears began to get the better of their hopes. All,
+therefore, joined most fervently in praise and thanksgiving to God,
+for this signal deliverance.
+
+For many years the conversion of the heathen in Labrador, not only
+proceeded very slowly, but was attended with many discouraging
+circumstances. The missionaries had patiently persevered in preaching to
+the natives, and watching every opportunity to make them attentive to
+the best interests of their soils: but reaped little fruit from their
+labours. Visits were frequent, and there was in general no want of
+hearers to address, but they showed no disposition to be instructed.
+If even a salutary impression was occasionally made on their minds, it
+was not abiding. Some families were indeed collected in the different
+settlements, but after staying there the winter, they mostly moved away
+again in summer, and apparently forgot all they had heard.
+
+Before the close of the year 1804, a new period commenced. A fire from
+the Lord was kindled among the Esquimaux, accompanied with the clearest
+evidence of being the effect of the operations of the divine Spirit on
+their hearts. It commenced at Hopedale, the very place which presented
+the most discouraging prospect.
+
+When the Esquimaux of that place returned from their summer excursions,
+the missionaries were delighted to find, that they not only had been
+preserved from sinful practices, but had greatly increased in the
+knowledge of divine truth. They had obtained an humbling insight into
+the corruption and deceitfulness of their hearts, and the wretched state
+of a person void of faith in Christ. This constrained them to cry for
+mercy, and gladly to accept salvation on the terms of the gospel: and
+some afforded encouraging hopes, that they had found forgiveness of sins
+in the blood of Christ, by which their souls were filled with peace
+in believing. Out of the abundance of the heart their mouths spake of
+the love and power of Jesus. Their artless but energetic declarations
+impressed the rest of the inhabitants. They began to feel the necessity
+of true conversion; and in a short time all the adults appeared
+earnestly to seek peace with God. Even several of the children were
+awakened. The missionaries were daily visited by people, who either
+inquired "what they must do to be saved," or testified of the grace of
+God manifested to their souls.
+
+The progress of the mission, in the sequel, supplies sufficient proof,
+that the effect of the gospel, just related, was not a wild fire, or the
+mere consequence of a momentary impression, but a divine work wrought in
+the hearts of the natives by the Spirit of God himself. The missionaries
+frequently mention the attention and diligence shown in the schools,
+both by adults, and children, and the delight and fervour with which
+they engage in their family devotions, and in conversations with each
+other respecting the influence of the gospel on their own souls. Their
+behaviour at public worship likewise very strikingly differed from that
+of former years, with regard to the eagerness with which they now
+attended the house of God, and their deportment during the performance
+of divine service. On one occasion the missionaries remark, "We no
+longer see bold, undaunted heathen sitting before us, with defiance or
+ridicule in their looks; but people expecting, a blessing, desirous to
+experience the power of the word of life, shedding tears of repentance,
+and their whole appearance evincing devotion and earnest inquiry."
+
+Christians! does not this narrative present us with some useful subjects
+for reflection?
+
+
+London: Printed for THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg14100.txt

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+
+
+EIGHTEEN HUNDRED AND ELEVEN,
+_A POEM_.
+
+BY ANNA LÆTITIA BARBAULD.
+
+LONDON:
+
+PRINTED FOR J. JOHNSON AND CO.,
+ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD.
+
+1812.
+
+PRINTED BY
+RICHARD TAYLOR AND CO., SHOE LANE.
+
+
+
+
+EIGHTEEN HUNDRED AND ELEVEN.
+
+Still the loud death drum, thundering from afar,
+O'er the vext nations pours the storm of war:
+To the stern call still Britain bends her ear,
+Feeds the fierce strife, the alternate hope and fear;
+Bravely, though vainly, dares to strive with Fate,
+And seeks by turns to prop each sinking state.
+Colossal Power with overwhelming force                  [2]
+Bears down each fort of Freedom in its course;
+Prostrate she lies beneath the Despot's sway,
+While the hushed nations curse him--and obey,
+
+Bounteous in vain, with frantic man at strife,
+Glad Nature pours the means--the joys of life;
+In vain with orange blossoms scents the gale,
+The hills with olives clothes, with corn the vale;
+Man calls to Famine, nor invokes in vain,
+Disease and Rapine follow in her train;
+The tramp of marching hosts disturbs the plough,
+The sword, not sickle, reaps the harvest now,
+And where the Soldier gleans the scant supply.
+The helpless Peasant but retires to die;
+No laws his hut from licensed outrage shield,           [3]
+And war's least horror is the ensanguined field.
+
+Fruitful in vain, the matron counts with pride
+The blooming youths that grace her honoured side;
+No son returns to press her widow'd hand,
+Her fallen blossoms strew a foreign strand.
+--Fruitful in vain, she boasts her virgin race,
+Whom cultured arts adorn and gentlest grace;
+Defrauded of its homage, Beauty mourns,
+And the rose withers on its virgin thorns.
+Frequent, some stream obscure, some uncouth name
+By deeds of blood is lifted into fame;
+Oft o'er the daily page some soft-one bends
+To learn the fate of husband, brothers, friends,
+Or the spread map with anxious eye explores,            [4]
+Its dotted boundaries and penciled shores,
+Asks _where_ the spot that wrecked her bliss is found,
+And learns its name but to detest the sound.
+
+And thinks't thou, Britain, still to sit at ease,
+An island Queen amidst thy subject seas,
+While the vext billows, in their distant roar,
+But soothe thy slumbers, and but kiss thy shore?
+To sport in wars, while danger keeps aloof,
+Thy grassy turf unbruised by hostile hoof?
+So sing thy flatterers; but, Britain, know,
+Thou who hast shared the guilt must share the woe.
+Nor distant is the hour; low murmurs spread,
+And whispered fears, creating what they dread;
+Ruin, as with an earthquake shock, is here,             [5]
+There, the heart-witherings of unuttered fear,
+And that sad death, whence most affection bleeds,
+Which sickness, only of the soul, precedes.
+Thy baseless wealth dissolves in air away,
+Like mists that melt before the morning ray:
+No more on crowded mart or busy street
+Friends, meeting friends, with cheerful hurry greet;
+Sad, on the ground thy princely merchants bend
+Their altered looks, and evil days portend,
+And fold their arms, and watch with anxious breast
+The tempest blackening in the distant West.
+
+Yes, thou must droop; thy Midas dream is o'er;
+The golden tide of Commerce leaves thy shore,
+Leaves thee to prove the alternate ills that haunt      [6]
+Enfeebling Luxury and ghastly Want;
+Leaves thee, perhaps, to visit distant lands,
+And deal the gifts of Heaven with equal hands.
+
+Yet, O my Country, name beloved, revered,
+By every tie that binds the soul endeared,
+Whose image to my infant senses came
+Mixt with Religion's light and Freedom's holy flame!
+If prayers may not avert, if 'tis thy fate
+To rank amongst the names that once were great,
+Not like the dim cold Crescent shalt thou fade,
+Thy debt to Science and the Muse unpaid;
+Thine are the laws surrounding states revere,
+Thine the full harvest of the mental year,
+Thine the bright stars in Glory's sky that shine,       [7]
+And arts that make it life to live are thine.
+If westward streams the light that leaves thy shores,
+Still from thy lamp the streaming radiance pours.
+Wide spreads thy race from Ganges to the pole,
+O'er half the western world thy accents roll:
+Nations beyond the Apalachian hills
+Thy hand has planted and thy spirit fills:
+Soon as their gradual progress shall impart
+The finer sense of morals and of art,
+Thy stores of knowledge the new states shall know,
+And think thy thoughts, and with thy fancy glow;
+Thy Lockes, thy Paleys shall instruct their youth,
+Thy leading star direct their search for truth;
+Beneath the spreading Platan's tent-like shade,         [8]
+Or by Missouri's rushing waters laid,
+"Old father Thames" shall be the Poets' theme,
+Of Hagley's woods the enamoured virgin dream,
+And Milton's tones the raptured ear enthrall,
+Mixt with the roar of Niagara's fall;
+In Thomson's glass the ingenuous youth shall learn
+A fairer face of Nature to discern;
+Nor of the Bards that swept the British lyre
+Shall fade one laurel, or one note expire.
+Then, loved Joanna, to admiring eyes
+Thy storied groups in scenic pomp shall rise;
+Their high soul'd strains and Shakespear's noble rage
+Shall with alternate passion shake the stage.
+Some youthful Basil from thy moral lay                  [9]
+With stricter hand his fond desires shall sway;
+Some Ethwald, as the fleeting shadows pass,
+Start at his likeness in the mystic glass;
+The tragic Muse resume her just controul,
+With pity and with terror purge the soul,
+While wide o'er transatlantic realms thy name
+Shall live in light, and gather _all_ its fame.
+
+Where wanders Fancy down the lapse of years
+Shedding o'er imaged woes untimely tears?
+Fond moody Power! as hopes--as fears prevail,
+She longs, or dreads, to lift the awful veil,
+On visions of delight now loves to dwell,
+Now hears the shriek of woe or Freedom's knell:
+Perhaps, she says, long ages past away,                 [10]
+And set in western waves our closing day,
+Night, Gothic night, again may shade the plains
+Where Power is seated, and where Science reigns;
+England, the seat of arts, be only known
+By the gray ruin and the mouldering stone;
+That Time may tear the garland from her brow,
+And Europe sit in dust, as Asia now.
+
+Yet then the ingenuous youth whom Fancy fires
+With pictured glories of illustrious sires,
+With duteous zeal their pilgrimage shall take
+From the blue mountains, or Ontario's lake,
+With fond adoring steps to press the sod
+By statesmen, sages, poets, heroes trod;
+On Isis' banks to draw inspiring air,                   [11]
+From Runnymede to send the patriot's prayer;
+In pensive thought, where Cam's slow waters wind,
+To meet those shades that ruled the realms of mind;
+In silent halls to sculptured marbles bow,
+And hang fresh wreaths round Newton's awful brow.
+Oft shall they seek some peasant's homely shed,
+Who toils, unconscious of the mighty dead,
+To ask where Avon's winding waters stray,
+And thence a knot of wild flowers bear away;
+Anxious enquire where Clarkson, friend of man,
+Or all-accomplished Jones his race began;
+If of the modest mansion aught remains
+Where Heaven and Nature prompted Cowper's strains;
+Where Roscoe, to whose patriot breast belong            [12]
+The Roman virtue and the Tuscan song,
+Led Ceres to the black and barren moor
+Where Ceres never gained a wreath before[1]:
+With curious search their pilgrim steps shall rove
+By many a ruined tower and proud alcove,
+Shall listen for those strains that soothed of yore
+Thy rock, stern Skiddaw, and thy fall, Lodore;
+Feast with Dun Edin's classic brow their sight,
+And visit "Melross by the pale moonlight."
+
+But who their mingled feelings shall pursue
+When London's faded glories rise to view?
+The mighty city, which by every road,                   [13]
+In floods of people poured itself abroad;
+Ungirt by walls, irregularly great,
+No jealous drawbridge, and no closing gate;
+Whose merchants (such the state which commerce brings)
+Sent forth their mandates to dependant kings:
+Streets, where the turban'd Moslem, bearded Jew,
+And woolly Afric, met the brown Hindu;
+Where through each vein spontaneous plenty flowed,
+Where Wealth enjoyed, and Charity bestowed.
+Pensive and thoughtful shall the wanderers greet
+Each splendid square, and still, untrodden street;
+Or of some crumbling turret, mined by time,
+The broken stair with perilous step shall climb,
+Thence stretch their view the wide horizon round,       [14]
+By scattered hamlets trace its antient bound,
+And, choked no more with fleets, fair Thames survey
+Through reeds and sedge pursue his idle way.
+
+With throbbing bosoms shall the wanderers tread
+The hallowed mansions of the silent dead,
+Shall enter the long isle and vaulted dome
+Where Genius and where Valour find a home;
+Awe-struck, midst chill sepulchral marbles breathe,
+Where all above is still, as all beneath;
+Bend at each antique shrine, and frequent turn
+To clasp with fond delight some sculptured urn,
+The ponderous mass of Johnson's form to greet,
+Or breathe the prayer at Howard's sainted feet.
+
+Perhaps some Briton, in whose musing mind               [15]
+Those ages live which Time has cast behind,
+To every spot shall lead his wondering guests
+On whose known site the beam of glory rests:
+Here Chatham's eloquence in thunder broke,
+Here Fox persuaded, or here Garrick spoke;
+Shall boast how Nelson, fame and death in view,
+To wonted victory led his ardent crew,
+In England's name enforced, with loftiest tone[2],
+Their duty,--and too well fulfilled his own:
+How gallant Moore[3], as ebbing life dissolved,
+_But_ hoped his country had his fame absolved.
+Or call up sages whose capacious mind                   [16]
+Left in its course a track of light behind;
+Point where mute crowds on Davy's lips reposed,
+And Nature's coyest secrets were disclosed;
+Join with their Franklin, Priestley's injured name,
+Whom, then, each continent shall proudly claim.
+
+Oft shall the strangers turn their eager feet
+The rich remains of antient art to greet,
+The pictured walls with critic eye explore,
+And Reynolds be what Raphael was before.
+On spoils from every clime their eyes shall gaze,
+Ægyptian granites and the Etruscan vase;
+And when midst fallen London, they survey
+The stone where Alexander's ashes lay,
+Shall own with humbled pride the lesson just            [17]
+By Time's slow finger written in the dust.
+
+There walks a Spirit o'er the peopled earth,
+Secret his progress is, unknown his birth;
+Moody and viewless as the changing wind,
+No force arrests his foot, no chains can bind;
+Where'er he turns, the human brute awakes,
+And, roused to better life, his sordid hut forsakes:
+He thinks, he reasons, glows with purer fires,
+Feels finer wants, and burns with new desires:
+Obedient Nature follows where he leads;
+The steaming marsh is changed to fruitful meads;
+The beasts retire from man's asserted reign,
+And prove his kingdom was not given in vain.
+Then from its bed is drawn the ponderous ore,           [18]
+Then Commerce pours her gifts on every shore,
+Then Babel's towers and terrassed gardens rise,
+And pointed obelisks invade the skies;
+The prince commands, in Tyrian purple drest,
+And Ægypt's virgins weave the linen vest.
+Then spans the graceful arch the roaring tide,
+And stricter bounds the cultured fields divide.
+Then kindles Fancy, then expands the heart,
+Then blow the flowers of Genius and of Art;
+Saints, Heroes, Sages, who the land adorn,
+Seem rather to descend than to be born;
+Whilst History, midst the rolls consigned to fame,
+With pen of adamant inscribes their name.
+
+The Genius now forsakes the favoured shore,             [19]
+And hates, capricious, what he loved before;
+Then empires fall to dust, then arts decay,
+And wasted realms enfeebled despots sway;
+Even Nature's changed; without his fostering smile
+Ophir no gold, no plenty yields the Nile;
+The thirsty sand absorbs the useless rill,
+And spotted plagues from putrid fens distill.
+In desert solitudes then Tadmor sleeps,
+Stern Marius then o'er fallen Carthage weeps;
+Then with enthusiast love the pilgrim roves
+To seek his footsteps in forsaken groves,
+Explores the fractured arch, the ruined tower,
+Those limbs disjointed of gigantic power;
+Still at each step he dreads the adder's sting,         [20]
+The Arab's javelin, or the tiger's spring;
+With doubtful caution treads the echoing ground.
+And asks where Troy or Babylon is found.
+
+And now the vagrant Power no more detains
+The vale of Tempe, or Ausonian plains;
+Northward he throws the animating ray,
+O'er Celtic nations bursts the mental day:
+And, as some playful child the mirror turns,
+Now here now there the moving lustre burns;
+Now o'er his changeful fancy more prevail
+Batavia's dykes than Arno's purple vale,
+And stinted suns, and rivers bound with frost,
+Than Enna's plains or Baia's viny coast;
+Venice the Adriatic weds in vain,                       [21]
+And Death sits brooding o'er Campania's plain;
+O'er Baltic shores and through Hercynian groves,
+Stirring the soul, the mighty impulse moves;
+Art plies his tools, arid Commerce spreads her sail,
+And wealth is wafted in each shifting gale.
+The sons of Odin tread on Persian looms,
+And Odin's daughters breathe distilled perfumes;
+Loud minstrel Bards, in Gothic halls, rehearse
+The Runic rhyme, and "build the lofty verse:"
+The Muse, whose liquid notes were wont to swell
+To the soft breathings of the' Æolian shell,
+Submits, reluctant, to the harsher tone,
+And scarce believes the altered voice her own.
+And now, where Cæsar saw with proud disdain            [22]
+The wattled hut and skin of azure stain,
+Corinthian columns rear their graceful forms,
+And light varandas brave the wintry storms,
+While British tongues the fading fame prolong
+Of Tully's eloquence and Maro's song.
+Where once Bonduca whirled the scythed car,
+And the fierce matrons raised the shriek of war,
+Light forms beneath transparent muslins float,
+And tutored voices swell the artful note.
+Light-leaved acacias and the shady plane
+And spreading cedar grace the woodland reign;
+While crystal walls the tenderer plants confine,
+The fragrant orange and the nectared pine;
+The Syrian grape there hangs her rich festoons,         [23]
+Nor asks for purer air, or brighter noons:
+Science and Art urge on the useful toil,
+New mould a climate and create the soil,
+Subdue the rigour of the northern Bear,
+O'er polar climes shed aromatic air,
+On yielding Nature urge their new demands,
+And ask not gifts but tribute at her hands.
+
+London exults:--on London Art bestows
+Her summer ices and her winter rose;
+Gems of the East her mural crown adorn,
+And Plenty at her feet pours forth her horn;
+While even the exiles her just laws disclaim,
+People a continent, and build a name:
+August she sits, and with extended hands                [24]
+Holds forth the book of life to distant lands.
+
+But fairest flowers expand but to decay;
+The worm is in thy core, thy glories pass away;
+Arts, arms and wealth destroy the fruits they bring;
+Commerce, like beauty, knows no second spring.
+Crime walks thy streets, Fraud earns her unblest bread,
+O'er want and woe thy gorgeous robe is spread,
+And angel charities in vain oppose:
+With grandeur's growth the mass of misery grows.
+For see,--to other climes the Genius soars,
+He turns from Europe's desolated shores;
+And lo, even now, midst mountains wrapt in storm,
+On Andes' heights he shrouds his awful form;
+On Chimborazo's summits treads sublime,                 [25]
+Measuring in lofty thought the march of Time;
+Sudden he calls:--"'Tis now the hour!" he cries,
+Spreads his broad hand, and bids the nations rise.
+La Plata hears amidst her torrents' roar,
+Potosi hears it, as she digs the ore:
+Ardent, the Genius fans the noble strife,
+And pours through feeble souls a higher life,
+Shouts to the mingled tribes from sea to sea,
+And swears--Thy world,  Columbus, shall be free.
+
+THE END.
+
+Footnotes:
+
+[1] The Historian of the age of Leo has brought into cultivation
+the extensive tract of Chatmoss.
+
+[2] Every reader will recollect the sublime telegraphic dispatch,
+"England expects every man to do his duty."
+
+
+[3] "I hope England will be satisfied," were the last words of
+General Moore.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

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+
+
+Note: Images of the original pages are available through Our Roots/Nos
+      Racines. See http://www.ourroots.ca/e/toc.asp?id=1977
+
+
+
+
+
+A NEW HOCHELAGAN BURYING-GROUND DISCOVERED AT WESTMOUNT ON THE WESTERN
+SPUR OF MOUNT ROYAL, MONTREAL, JULY-SEPTEMBER 1898
+
+Notes by
+
+W. D. LIGHTHALL, M.A., F.R.S.L.
+
+Privately printed for the writer by
+Alphonse Pelletier
+Printer to the Numismatic and Antiquarian Society of Montreal
+
+1898
+
+
+
+
+
+
+The above title is provisional as respects the term "Hochelagan." All
+those who are interested in the Indians of old Hochelaga, or in the
+Mohawks with whom they seem to have had a close and not yet fully
+ascertained race relationship, will be pleased to learn of the
+discovery of a prehistoric burying-ground which is probably one of
+their race, the only one heretofore known having been on the borders
+of their town itself, about upper Metcalfe street, Montreal. The new
+one is on the upper level (not the top) of Westmount, which is the
+south-western prolongation of Mount Royal, and the four or five graves
+thus far found are scattered at considerable intervals over an an
+area of about 600 by 300 yards, nearly bounded by Argyle, Montrose
+and Aberdeen Avenues and the Boulevard, three of the graves being a
+little outside of these limits. A number of years ago a skeleton was
+discovered, near the surface, on the cutting of Argyle Avenue on about
+a westerly line from the residence of Mr. Earle. As the remains were
+rumored to be possibly Indian, Mr. Earle secured the skull, which
+had been used as a football by boys, some of the teeth, which had
+originally been complete in number, being thus lost. This head is
+identical in form with those last found. Roots of grass interlaced
+in it show the lightness of the covering. On another occasion many
+years ago, a skeleton was found, also lightly buried, and with the
+knees drawn up, just east of the residence of Mr. John Macfarlane
+on Montrose Avenue, during the digging of a flower-bed. It was over
+six feet long. After being exposed for a few days it was re-interred
+in the same spot by order of Mr. Macfarlane, and could doubtless
+be obtained for examination if desirable. At a later period, the
+gardener, Mr. Latter, who had found the Macfarlane skeleton, dug up
+and re-interred another just within the bounds of his own property
+adjoining the head of Aberdeen Avenue opposite the St. George's
+Snowshoe Club-house. On the 22nd of July last (1898) a gardener
+excavating in the St. George's Club-house grounds found three
+skeletons interred at a depth of from two to two and a half feet and
+with knees drawn up. A report of the find was made to the Chief
+of Police of Westmount and to Mr. J. Stevenson Brown, and Mr. A.S.
+Wheeler, respectively President and Vice-President of the St. George's
+Club, the former being also an ex Vice-President of the Natural
+History Society. They examined the spot and remains, Mr. Brown
+concluding them to be probably Indian from the prominent cheek bones
+and large mouths. Having just been paying some attention to the
+archaeology of the Iroquois, which had been taken me on a flying trip
+to their former country in the State of New-York, I, on seeing in a
+newspaper at the seaside, a short item concerning the skeletons, was
+immediately interested, and especially in the possibility of their
+being Hochelagans, and having particularly commenced some inquiries
+into the relations between the latter Indians and the Mohawks, I
+wrote, as Chairman of Health of Westmount, asking Chief Harrison to
+note the manner and attitude of burial and any objects found, and to
+enquire concerning previous excavations in the neighborhood and save
+the remains for scientific purposes. (They had been sent by him to the
+City Morgue.) The above information concerning the previous skeletons
+was then collected and I found that the witnesses concurred in
+agreeing that the attitude seems to have been in all cases with
+knees bent up. No objects seem to have been noticed in any of the
+excavations then made, though some may have been overlooked by the
+workmen, particularly as the soil of the locality is full of pieces of
+limestone and small boulders, closely resembling arrow heads, hammers
+and celts. Several bones which are not human have however been since
+found with these three skeletons, one possibly of a dog, another of
+a squirrel. They may be those of the funeral feast Sir William Dawson
+mentions in his work "Fossil Men," as usually to be looked for over
+the Hochelagan graves.
+
+Mr. Beauchamp, the New-York authority, writes concerning the Mohawks;
+"Burial customs varied greatly among the same people, but usually the
+knees are drawn up. The face might be turned either way in contiguous
+graves. I have seen many opened with no articles in them." By the
+kindness of Dr. Wyatt Johnston, Pathologist to the Provincial Board
+of Health, the three skeletons have been preserved and are now in
+the Chateau de Ramezay Historical Museum where they will doubtless
+be regarded with interest by scholars. The skulls have been fully
+identified as of the Indian type, and found to be those of two
+powerful males in the prime of life and one young woman. The skull
+in possession of Mr. Earl is doubtless of the same race. Some large
+stones were found placed above the bodies, and also a number of
+naturally flat stones which appear to have been used as scoops to
+excavate. The plateau where the remains were found is about half way
+up the side of the "Mountain" or hill, as it more properly is, the
+total height being only about 700 feet. The plateau slopes somewhat
+and looks towards the south-east, and being protected by the hill
+behind it from prevailing winds, and having a good light soil,
+constitutes a very favorable situation for the growth of the Indian
+crops of corn and beans. The Mountain being an isolated rise in the
+great plain of the St. Lawrence, the plateau was also most favorably
+placed for look-out and defence. A hundred yards or so to the west is
+a fine perennial spring, and a short distance further is another which
+has always been known as "the old Indian Well," having been a resort
+of Indians at a later period. Only a few spots on the plateau have
+so far been excavated; but with approaching improvements I have no
+doubt that other graves will soon be found. The ground to the west,
+in the neighborhood of the two perennial springs, has in particular,
+never been much disturbed. If therefore, as on the site of the old
+Hochelaga, this burying-ground is on the out skirts of a town site,
+relics of a much more interesting character may be looked for in
+the undisturbed neighborhood just referred to, the Raynes and Murray
+farms, and those on, the southern slope of the Mountain.
+
+Should a town-site be fortunately discovered I have no doubt that
+progressive Westmount will see to proper care being taken in the
+matter. Such a town would likely be older than Hochelaga and thus
+afford a fresh step in tracing the record of this mysterious people.
+Such towns were frequently moved, when the soil or supply of wood gave
+out, or disease or enemies made removal imperative. As to the remains
+already unearthed being prehistoric, there can be no doubt. The Island
+was deserted after the destruction of Hochelaga by the Hurons about
+1560. The next Indian inhabitants were Catholic converts and therefore
+were buried at full length in a consecrated Christian ground.
+The village of the converts was at the Old Towers of the Fort des
+Messieurs, some quarter of a mile eastward of the plateau referred to.
+
+In tracing back the history of the land in which these discoveries
+have been made, we learn from the _terrier_ or land book of the
+Seminary of St. Sulpice, that it was conceded about 1708, and that it
+has ever since remained in private hands. Had the site been known as
+a burial place, even years previous to that date, it is altogether
+unlikely that such a concession would have been made; especially as
+there was abundance of unoccupied land in the vicinity. The faint
+doubt which arose as to whether the interments were made subsequently
+to the founding of Montreal, is therefore eliminated. The authorities
+of the Seminary, who conceded the land, state not only that they have
+no record of a burying-ground there, but agree with me that the space
+covered is too large, to be consecrated ground, as it would be in
+Christian times, and they also state that the burials of the mission
+of the Mountain where the Montreal Indian converts lived, were made
+chiefly at the cemeteries of Montreal and were very few. These
+Indians had originally been assembled around Ville Marie but were
+removed to the Fort des Messieurs where Montreal College stands in
+1662, and thence, towards the beginning of the 18th century, to
+Sault-au-Recollet and in 1717 to Oka. The method of burial, also, is
+not Christian, but pagan, and similar in every respect to early Mohawk
+burials.
+
+On Saturday the 10th September, 1898, I went with two laborers granted
+by the Town of Westmount to the excavation on the club house grounds,
+and choosing a spot on its edge cut a short trench some two feet deep.
+About ten feet southward of the three skeletons previously found, this
+trench revealed two large stones placed in the form of a reversed V,
+clearly in order, as it afterwards appeared, to partly cover a body.
+On raising these, a skeleton was found of a tall young man laid on the
+hard-pan, on his right side, with face down, head towards the west,
+knees drawn up, and covered with the mealy dry whitish earth of the
+locality, to a depth of about two and a half feet. Mr. Earl assisted
+in carefully uncovering the remains, of which Mr. Charles J. Brown
+then took two excellent protographs in situ. The form of skull was
+similar to the others, the teeth fine and perfect except a grinder
+which had been lost years before. One armbone showed that it had once
+been broken and healed again. No objects were found, though the search
+was very careful. On the 17th, the excavations were continued in the
+hope of finding objects of value to science. On this occasion there
+was present, besides the writer Mr. Earl, Mr. C.J. Brown, Mr. Wheeler
+and others and Mr. R.W. McLachlan, one of the excavators of old
+Hochelaga. About four or five feet north of the grave last-mentioned,
+large stones were again struck and on being lifted, the skeleton
+of a young girl was unearthed whose wisdom teeth had just begun to
+appear in the jaw. The large bone of her upper left arm had at one
+time been broken near the shoulder. Her slender skeleton was in the
+same crouching position as the others but much more closely bunched
+together; the top of the head was laid towards the north and looking
+partly downwards. Above her were found several flat stones which
+may have been used as scoops for the excavation. Under her neck was
+discovered the first manufactured object found, a single rude bead of
+white wampum of the prehistoric form, and which is now deposited in
+the Chateau de Ramezay. As white wampum was the gift of a lover, this
+sole ornament tells the pathetic story of early love and death. Mr.
+Chas. J. Brown again protographed the remains in situ. The work will
+still proceed and no doubt more important discoveries are yet to be
+made.
+
+Montreal, September 20th, 1898.
+
+
+REPORT OF Dr. HIBBERT ON THE WESTMOUNT SKELETONS
+
+No. I.--A Young Woman
+
+
+The bones of this skeleton, are fragile, broken and considerably
+decayed.
+
+The skull is in fair condition, though the lower jaw is broken in
+half.
+
+The skull is round and arched above the breadth index being 77.7, of
+brachycephalic or Mongoloid type. _The superciliary_ ridges are not
+very prominent, but the frontal, parietal and occipital eminences
+are very distinct. _The forehead_ is non receding and the breath
+measures 9 c.m. The cheekbones are not unduly prominent, the official
+measurement being 119 m.m. The gnathic index is 93, or orthognathous.
+The teeth are well preserved and not much worn, the 3d. molars not
+having erupted in either jaw. The face is short and broad, the height
+being 108 m.m. in and breadth 119 m.m., the orbit is inclined to be
+square with rounded angles and the type megaseme, the nasal index is
+mesorhine.
+
+A very striking feature of this skull is the well marked central
+vertical frontal ridge and some tendency to angularity of the vertex.
+In the whole this skull is of a more refined type than the others and
+suggestive of some fair intellectual development of the individual.
+There are two wormian bones on the left side of the skull, one at the
+pterion and one below the asterion each being 9 m.m. long.
+
+The bones generally are fragile and the long bones slender, with no
+marked impression for muscular attachment. A curious fact is that the
+ends of all the long bones are absent, presumably from decay, and as
+these ends are united to the shafts between the age of puberty (14-15)
+and adult life it is suggestive that the individual may have been
+of about the age of 18 or 20 and this is somewhat confirmed by the
+noneruption of the third molars.
+
+With this skeleton are two animal bones. White and very dense in
+structure. They are both femura, one probably that of an ungulate; the
+other of a carnivore.
+
+
+No. II.--A Brachycephalic Man
+
+
+This skeleton is that of a large and powerfully built man, the bones
+being very heavy and strong with marked impressions and prominences
+for muscular attachment. The skeleton, with the exception of some of
+the small bones of the hands and feet is complete.
+
+The skull is large and massive, and the lower jaw very strong and
+heavy. The teeth are well preserved but much ground down at the crown.
+The superciliary ridges are very prominent. The fore head is narrow
+(102 c.m.) receding.
+
+Judging from the size and strength of the bones and their impressions
+for muscular attachment, this man must have been very powerful and
+calculating from the length of the femur, at least six feet tall.
+With this skeleton we found a small humerus of some mammal possibly a
+squirrel.
+
+
+No. III.--The Tallest Man
+
+
+This skeleton is also that of a large powerfully built man, even
+taller man the last. The skull is larger, though not quite so massive.
+It is longer and narrower and dolicephalus, the occipital region very
+prominent. The height index is low (70.5).
+
+The face is broad as compared with the length 124-112 and the cheek
+bones are prominent, lower jaw is heavy and strong.
+
+The bones of this skeleton are well preserved and it is almost entire,
+there being only a few of the bones of the hands and feet missing. The
+pelvis is masculine. The bones are long, large and heavy with marked
+impressions and processes.
+
+The femur measures 17-7/8 inches so that this man must have been six
+feet or more and of muscular frame.
+
+Among the bones of No III skeleton were 2 small rib bones of a bird.
+
+Judging from the general conformation of the three skulls, it would
+appear that No. I, was that of the most intelligent person of the
+three and No. III of the least No. II being intermediate.
+
+It is difficult to estimate the height of No. I as the femur is so
+decayed at both ends, but allowing for this, the height would not
+be more than 5 feet and probably less than that. The skeletons
+undoubtedly belong to the Mongoloid type and are distinctive of
+the North American Indians.
+
+
+

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+
+
+=MABINI'S DECALOGUE FOR FILIPINOS=
+
+[Illustration: Apolinario Mabini]
+
+Apolinario Mabini, Martyr.
+
+"Thou shalt love thy country after God and they honor and more than
+thyself: for she is the only Paradise which God has given thee in this
+life, the only inheritance of thy ancestors and the only hope of thy
+posterity."
+
+PHILIPPINE PRESS BUREAU
+Washington, D. C.
+
+1922
+
+
+
+
+MABINI
+
+
+Mabini was undoubtedly the most profound thinker and political
+philosopher that the Pilipino race ever produced. Some day, when his
+works are fully published, but not until then, Mabini will come into
+his own. A great name awaits him, not only in the Philippines, for he
+is already appreciated there, but in every land where the cause of
+liberty and human freedom is revered.
+
+Mabini was born in Tanawan, province of Batangas, island of Luzon,
+P.I., of poor Filipino parents, in 1864. He received his education in
+the "Colegio de San Juan de Letran." Manila, and in the University of
+Santo Tomas. He supported himself while studying by his own efforts,
+and made a brilliant record in both institutions. Later he devoted his
+energies to the establishment of a private school in Manila and to
+legal work.
+
+Mabini came to the front in 1898 during the Pilipino revolution
+against Spain. In the subsequent revolution against the United States
+he became known as "the brains of the revolution." He was so
+considered by the American army officers, who bent every energy to
+capture him.
+
+He was the leading adviser of Aguinaldo, and was the author of the
+latter's many able decrees and proclamations. Mabini's official
+position was President of the Council of Secretaries, and he also held
+the post of Secretary of the Exterior.
+
+One of Mabini's greatest works was his draft of a constitution for the
+Philippine Republic. It was accompanied by what he called "The True
+Decalogue," published in the pages following. Mabini's "ten
+commandments" are so framed as to meet the needs of Filipino
+patriotism for all time. He also drafted rules for the organization
+and government of municipalities and provinces, which were highly
+successful because of their adaptability to local conditions.
+
+Mabini remained the head of Aguinaldo's cabinet until March, 1899,
+when he resigned. But he continued in hearty sympathy with the
+revolution, however, and his counsel was frequently sought.
+
+Mabini was arrested by the American forces in September, 1899, and
+remained a prisoner until September 23, 1900. Following his release,
+he lived for a while in a suburb of Manila, in a poor nipa house,
+under the most adverse and trying circumstances. He was in abject
+poverty.
+
+In spite of his terrible suffering from paralysis, Mabini continued
+writing. He severely criticised the government, voicing the sentiments
+of the Filipino people for freedom. He was ordered to desist, but to
+this, in one of his writings to the people, he replied: "To tell a man
+to be quiet when a necessity not fulfilled is shaking all the fibers
+of his being is tantamount to asking a hungry man to be filled before
+taking the food which he needs."
+
+Mabini's logic was a real embarrassment to the American military
+forces, and in January, 1901, he was arrested a second time by the
+Americans. This time he was exiled to the island of Guam, where he
+remained until his return to Manila on February 26, 1903.
+
+Mabini died in Manila, of cholera, May 13, 1903, at the age of 39
+years. His funeral was the most largely attended of any ever held in
+Manila.
+
+Although he died from natural causes, Mabini died a martyr to the
+cause of Philippine independence. Five years of persecution left his
+intense patriotism untouched, but it had made his physical self a
+ready victim for a premature death.
+
+
+
+
+="THE TRUE DECALOGUE"=
+
+=By APOLINARIO MABINI=
+
+
+First. Thou shalt love God and thy honor above all things: God as the
+fountain of all truth, of all justice and of all activity; and thy
+honor, the only power which will oblige thee to be faithful, just and
+industrious.
+
+Second. Thou shalt worship God in the form which thy conscience may
+deem most righteous and worthy: for in thy conscience, which condemns
+thy evil deeds and praises thy good ones, speaks thy God.
+
+Third. Thou shalt cultivate the special gifts which God has granted
+thee, working and studying according to thy ability, never leaving the
+path of righteousness and justice, in order to attain thy own
+perfection, by means whereof thou shalt contribute to the progress of
+humanity; thus; thou shalt fulfill the mission to which God has
+appointed thee in this life and by so doing, thou shalt be honored,
+and being honored, thou shalt glorify thy God.
+
+Fourth. Thou shalt love thy country after God and thy honor and more
+than thyself: for she is the only Paradise which God has given thee in
+this life, the only patrimony of thy race, the only inheritance of thy
+ancestors and the only hope of thy posterity; because of her, thou
+hast life, love and interests, happiness, honor and God.
+
+Fifth. Thou shalt strive for the happiness of thy country before thy
+own, making of her the kingdom of reason, of justice and of labor: for
+if she be happy, thou, together with thy family, shalt likewise be
+happy.
+
+Sixth. Thou shalt strive for the independence of thy country: for only
+thou canst have any real interest in her advancement and exaltation,
+because her independence constitutes thy own liberty; her advancement,
+thy perfection; and her exaltation, thy own glory and immortality.
+
+Seventh. Thou shalt not recognize in thy country the authority of any
+person who has not been elected by thee and thy countrymen; for
+authority emanates from God, and as God speaks in the conscience of
+every man, the person designated and proclaimed by the conscience of a
+whole people is the only one who can use true authority.
+
+Eighth. Thou shalt strive for a Republic and never for a monarchy in
+thy country: for the latter exalts one or several families and founds
+a dynasty; the former makes a people noble and worthy through reason,
+great through liberty, and prosperous and brilliant through labor.
+
+Ninth. Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself: for God has imposed
+upon him, as well as upon thee, the obligation to help thee and not to
+do unto thee what he would not have thee do unto him; but if thy
+neighbor, failing in this sacred duty, attempt against thy life, thy
+liberty and thy interests, then thou shalt destroy and annihilate him
+for the supreme law of self-preservation prevails.
+
+Tenth. Thou shalt consider thy countryman more than thy neighbor; thou
+shalt see him thy friend, thy brother or at least thy comrade, with
+whom thou art bound by one fate, by the same joys and sorrows and by
+common aspirations and interests.
+
+Therefore, as long as national frontiers subsist, raised and
+maintained by the selfishness of race and of family, with thy
+countryman alone shalt thou unite in a perfect solidarity of purpose
+and interest, in order to have force, not only to resist the common
+enemy but also to attain all the aims of human life.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg14706.txt

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+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 14706-h.htm or 14706-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/7/0/14706/14706-h/14706-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/7/0/14706/14706-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+GREYBEARDS AT PLAY
+
+Literature And Art For Old Gentlemen
+
+Rhymes and Sketches by
+
+GILBERT CHESTERTON
+
+London: R. Brimley Johnson
+8, York Buildings, Adelphi
+
+1900
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+A DEDICATION
+
+TO E.C.B.
+
+  He was, through boyhood's storm and shower,
+    My best, my nearest friend;
+  We wore one hat, smoked one cigar,
+    One standing at each end.
+
+  We were two hearts with single hope,
+    Two faces in one hood;
+  I knew the secrets of his youth;
+    I watched his every mood.
+
+  The little things that none but I
+    Saw were beyond his wont,
+  The streaming hair, the tie behind,
+    The coat tails worn in front.
+
+  I marked the absent-minded scream,
+    The little nervous trick
+  Of rolling in the grate, with eyes
+    By friendship's light made quick.
+
+  But youth's black storms are gone and past,
+    Bare is each aged brow;
+  And, since with age we're growing bald,
+    Let us be babies now.
+
+  Learning we knew; but still to-day,
+    With spelling-book devotion,
+  Words of one syllable we seek
+    In moments of emotion.
+
+  Riches we knew; and well dressed dolls--
+    Dolls living--who expressed
+  No filial thoughts, however much
+    You thumped them in the chest.
+
+  Old happiness is grey as we,
+    And we may still outstrip her;
+  If we be slippered pantaloons,
+    Oh let us hunt the slipper!
+
+  The old world glows with colours clear;
+    And if, as saith the saint,
+  The world is but a painted show,
+    Oh let us lick the paint!
+
+  Far, far behind are morbid hours,
+    And lonely hearts that bleed.
+  Far, far behind us are the days,
+    When we were old indeed.
+
+  Leave we the child: he is immersed
+    With scientists and mystics:
+  With deep prophetic voice he cries
+    Canadian food statistics.
+
+  But now I know how few and small,
+    The things we crave need be--
+  Toys and the universe and you--
+    A little friend to tea.
+
+  Behold the simple sum of things,
+    Where, in one splendour spun,
+  The stars go round the Mulberry Bush,
+    The Burning Bush, the Sun.
+
+  Now we are old and wise and grey,
+    And shaky at the knees;
+  Now is the true time to delight
+    In picture books like these.
+
+  Hoary and bent I dance one hour:
+    What though I die at morn?
+  There is a shout among the stars,
+    "To-night a child is born."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+   THE ONENESS OF THE PHILOSOPHER WITH NATURE
+
+   OF THE DANGERS ATTENDING ALTRUISM ON THE HIGH SEAS
+
+   ON THE DISASTROUS SPREAD OF ÆSTHETICISM IN ALL CLASSES
+
+   ENVOY
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE ONENESS OF THE PHILOSOPHER WITH NATURE.
+
+
+  I love to see the little stars
+    All dancing to one tune;
+  I think quite highly of the Sun,
+    And kindly of the Moon.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  The million forests of the Earth
+    Come trooping in to tea.
+  The great Niagara waterfall
+    Is never shy with me.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  I am the tiger's confidant,
+    And never mention names:
+  The lion drops the formal "Sir,"
+    And lets me call him James.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Into my ear the blushing Whale
+    Stammers his love. I know
+  Why the Rhinoceros is sad,
+    --Ah, child! 'twas long ago.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  I am akin to all the Earth
+    By many a tribal sign:
+  The aged Pig will often wear
+    That sad, sweet smile of mine.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  My niece, the Barnacle, has got
+    My piercing eyes of black;
+  The Elephant has got my nose,
+    I do not want it back.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  I know the strange tale of the Slug;
+    The Early Sin--the Fall--
+  The Sleep--the Vision--and the Vow--
+    The Quest--the Crown--the Call.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  And I have loved the Octopus,
+    Since we were boys together.
+  I love the Vulture and the Shark:
+    I even love the weather.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  I love to bask in sunny fields,
+    And when that hope is vain,
+  I go and bask in Baker Street,
+    All in the pouring rain.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Come snow! where fly, by some strange law,
+    Hard snowballs--without noise--
+  Through streets untenanted, except
+    By good unconscious boys.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Come fog! exultant mystery--
+    Where, in strange darkness rolled,
+  The end of my own nose becomes
+    A lovely legend old.
+
+  Come snow, and hail, and thunderbolts,
+    Sleet, fire, and general fuss;
+  Come to my arms, come all at once--
+    Oh photograph me thus!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+OF THE DANGERS ATTENDING ALTRUISM ON THE HIGH SEAS.
+
+
+  Observe these Pirates bold and gay,
+    That sail a gory sea:
+  Notice their bright expression:--
+    The handsome one is me.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  We plundered ships and harbours,
+    We spoiled the Spanish main;
+  But Nemesis watched over us,
+    For it began to rain.
+
+  Oh all well-meaning folk take heed!
+    Our Captain's fate was sore;
+  A more well-meaning Pirate,
+    Had never dripped with gore.
+
+  The rain was pouring long and loud,
+    The sea was drear and dim;
+  A little fish was floating there:
+    Our Captain pitied him.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "How sad," he said, and dropped a tear
+    Splash on the cabin roof,
+  "That we are dry, while he is there
+    Without a waterproof.
+
+  "We'll get him up on board at once;
+    For Science teaches me,
+  He will be wet if he remains
+    Much longer in the sea."
+
+  They fished him out; the First Mate wept,
+    And came with rugs and ale:
+  The Boatswain brought him one golosh,
+    And fixed it on his tail.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  But yet he never loved the ship;
+    Against the mast he'd lean;
+  If spoken to, he coughed and smiled,
+    And blushed a pallid green.
+
+  Though plied with hardbake, beef and beer,
+    He showed no wish to sup:
+  The neatest riddles they could ask,
+    He always gave them up.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  They seized him and court-martialled him,
+    In some excess of spleen,
+  For lack of social sympathy,
+    (Victoria xii. 18).
+
+  They gathered every evidence
+    That might remove a doubt:
+  They wrote a postcard in his name,
+    And partly scratched it out.
+
+  Till, when his guilt was clear as day,
+    With all formality
+  They doomed the traitor to be drowned,
+    And threw him in the sea.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  The flashing sunset, as he sank,
+    Made every scale a gem;
+  And, turning with a graceful bow,
+    He kissed his fin to them.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+MORAL.
+
+  I am, I think I have remarked,
+    Terrifically old,
+  (The second Ice-age was a farce,
+    The first was rather cold.)
+
+  A friend of mine, a trilobite
+    Had gathered in his youth,
+  When trilobites _were_ trilobites,
+    This all-important truth.
+
+  We aged ones play solemn parts--
+    Sire--guardian--uncle--king.
+  Affection is the salt of life,
+    Kindness a noble thing.
+
+  The old alone may comprehend
+    A sense in my decree;
+  But--if you find a fish on land,
+    Oh throw it in the sea.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+ON THE DISASTROUS SPREAD OF ÆSTHETICISM IN ALL CLASSES.
+
+
+  Impetuously I sprang from bed,
+    Long before lunch was up,
+  That I might drain the dizzy dew
+    From day's first golden cup.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  In swift devouring ecstacy
+    Each toil in turn was done;
+  I had done lying on the lawn
+    Three minutes after one.
+
+  For me, as Mr. Wordsworth says,
+    The duties shine like stars;
+  I formed my uncle's character,
+    Decreasing his cigars.
+
+  But could my kind engross me? No!
+    Stern Art--what sons escape her?
+  Soon I was drawing Gladstone's nose
+    On scraps of blotting paper.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Then on--to play one-fingered tunes
+    Upon my aunt's piano.
+  In short, I have a headlong soul,
+    I much resemble Hanno.
+
+  (Forgive the entrance of the not
+    Too cogent Carthaginian.
+  It may have been to make a rhyme;
+    I lean to that opinion).
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Then my great work of book research
+    Till dusk I took in hand--
+  The forming of a final, sound
+    Opinion on _The Strand_.
+
+  But when I quenched the midnight oil,
+    And closed _The Referee_,
+  Whose thirty volumes folio
+    I take to bed with me,
+
+  I had a rather funny dream,
+    Intense, that is, and mystic;
+  I dreamed that, with one leap and yell,
+    The world became artistic.
+
+  The Shopmen, when their souls were still,
+    Declined to open shops--
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  And Cooks recorded frames of mind
+    In sad and subtle chops.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  The stars were weary of routine:
+    The trees in the plantation
+  Were growing every fruit at once,
+    In search of a sensation.
+
+  The moon went for a moonlight stroll,
+    And tried to be a bard,
+  And gazed enraptured at itself:
+    I left it trying hard.
+
+  The sea had nothing but a mood
+    Of 'vague ironic gloom,'
+  With which t'explain its presence in
+    My upstairs drawing-room.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  The sun had read a little book
+    That struck him with a notion:
+  He drowned himself and all his fires
+    Deep in the hissing ocean.
+
+  Then all was dark, lawless, and lost:
+    I heard great devilish wings:
+  I knew that Art had won, and snapt
+    The Covenant of Things.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  I cried aloud, and I awoke,
+    New labours in my head.
+  I set my teeth, and manfully
+    Began to lie in bed.
+
+  Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing,
+    So I my life conduct.
+  Each morning see some task begun,
+    Each evening see it chucked.
+
+  But still, in sudden moods of dusk,
+    I hear those great weird wings,
+  Feel vaguely thankful to the vast
+    Stupidity of things.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+ENVOY.
+
+
+  Clear was the night: the moon was young:
+    The larkspurs in the plots
+  Mingled their orange with the gold
+    Of the forget-me-nots.
+
+  The poppies seemed a silver mist:
+    So darkly fell the gloom.
+  You scarce had guessed yon crimson streaks
+    Were buttercups in bloom.
+
+  But one thing moved: a little child
+    Crashed through the flower and fern:
+  And all my soul rose up to greet
+    The sage of whom I learn.
+
+  I looked into his awful eyes:
+    I waited his decree:
+  I made ingenious attempts
+    To sit upon his knee.
+
+  The babe upraised his wondering eyes,
+    And timidly he said,
+  "A trend towards experiment
+    In modern minds is bred.
+
+  "I feel the will to roam, to learn
+    By test, experience, _nous_,
+  That fire is hot and ocean deep,
+    And wolves carnivorous.
+
+  "My brain demands complexity."
+    The lisping cherub cried.
+  I looked at him, and only said,
+    "Go on. The world is wide."
+
+  A tear rolled down his pinafore,
+    "Yet from my life must pass
+  The simple love of sun and moon,
+    The old games in the grass;
+
+  "Now that my back is to my home
+    Could these again be found?"
+  I looked on him, and only said,
+    "Go on. The world is round."
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg14843.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,202 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Wallace McLean, Charlene Taylor and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net). Images from ourroots.ca
+(www.ourroots.ca).
+
+
+
+
+
+The
+Manor House of Lacolle
+
+
+A Description and Historical Sketch of
+the Manoir of the Seigniory of de Beaujeu
+or Lacolle
+
+
+BY
+W.D. LIGHTHALL, K.C.
+PRESIDENT
+of the Antiquarian and Numismatic Society of Montreal.
+
+
+
+PRIVATELY PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR BY
+C.A. MARCHAND, Printer.
+MONTREAL.
+
+
+
+
+THE MANOR HOUSE OF LACOLLE.
+
+BY W.D. LIGHTHALL, K.C.
+
+
+The Manor House of the Seigniory of Lacolle or De Beaujeu is situated in
+a retired neighborhood, on the New York State border-line about four
+miles south-west of Lacolle Village, and one mile north of the village
+of Champlain, N.Y. and about forty miles from Montreal. The highway from
+Lacolle to Champlain runs through the property. The traveller from the
+north finds himself entering well-wooded lands and at length passes the
+heavy low stone-walls and large, white gate of the grounds and sees the
+home nearby on a slight elevation to the right. A sloping lawn and old
+trees extend in front, the gardens are at the north-side, and a hundred
+yards further, a wooded park of about a hundred acres. On the-opposite,
+or west, side of the road, the tall old elm grove forms part of a
+hillside farm. The Manorhouse itself is large, constructed of wood, and
+having an extensive stone gabled wing, the whole ornamented with vines.
+In front, six tall, slender, fluted pillars with Ionic capitals give
+Colonial character to the verandah and meet the roof above the second
+story. The massive oak front door is divided into an upper and lower
+half, with large brass knocker. The interior is mostly finished in
+polished hard woods, with broad fire-places and colonial mantels in most
+of the rooms. The main part of the house was built in 1825 by Mrs. Henry
+Hoyle, formerly Mrs. Major Henry Ten Eyck Schuyler, of Troy, N.Y., under
+the following circumstances:
+
+As Sarah Visscher she had inherited a large fortune from her grand-uncle
+Lieutenant-General Garret Fisher (Visscher), a Loyalist officer of Sir
+Adolphus Oughton's regiment, the 55th, which was present at the taking
+of Montreal, and who died at Manchester Square, London, in 1808, after a
+distinguished career. This fortune arrived at the beginning of the war
+of 1812, just before the death of her first husband Major Schuyler,
+nephew of General Philip Schuyler, and descendant of the well-known
+colonial military family of that name. He left three daughters and a
+son. They possessed other very valuable property in Troy, including a
+handsome farm and mansion at the South end, shown in old pictures of the
+city, on which about a fourth of Troy was afterwards built. In 1816,
+Henry Hoyle, who was a Lancashire man, married her for her fortune,
+which he soon found belonged to the children by strict law. He
+therefore, making great pretensions of fatherly kindness, and religion,
+set himself to defeat their title. By falsifying the facts, he managed
+to obtain a snap judgment against their guardian in favor of himself,
+but feeling his tenure insecure, sold the mansion and farm in Troy, and
+persuaded his wife to move to the property in Lacolle, just on the
+frontier line. It was only after his death in 1849, that the widow and
+orphans discovered his fraud, and that he had obtained the placing of
+the entire property in his own name in order to possess it. There
+followed a furious family quarrel between the Schuyler and Hoyle heirs,
+in which the old lady took the side of the former, and in fact sued her
+Hoyle sons to right the injury. At her death in 1851, she refused to be
+buried beside Hoyle and stipulated in her will that she be taken back to
+Troy and interred with her first husband, and that the burial lot be
+surrounded with stone posts, each carrying the name "_Schuyler_". Henry
+Hoyle had previously possessed from 1816, the actual land on which the
+Manorhouse is built. After their arrival in 1825, he employed the
+fortune of which he had thus obtained control, and regarding which he
+represented himself to his wife as only acting for her, in adding to
+this land and in many investments along a wide range of the border
+counties. Her suit estimates the properties at L38,000. The home
+property was made a prize stock farm--one of the first if not the actual
+first of the kind in Canada. Cattle-breeding on shares was made by him a
+large enterprise among the settlers, and every year his share of
+increase was collected and driven to Montreal for sale. The farm-book is
+a parchment-covered ledger previously used by Sarah Visscher's uncle,
+Leonard Van Buren in 1782 (who was also uncle of President Martin Van
+Buren). Water-powers at various points were bought and developed with
+her money, and mills erected, including those at Lacolle, Huntingdon and
+Athelstan; and several thousands of acres were acquired at Huntingdon,
+Lacolle, Irish Ridge, and other localities. He was almost at once
+appointed a magistrate, his brother Colonel Robert Hoyle of Lacolle, was
+the member of Parliament, later on her son-in-law Merrit Hotchkiss was
+member and another son-in-law was Registrar of Huntingdon. At that
+period several of the wealthy men of Montreal were acquiring large
+tracts, apparently to form estates like the seigniories. With some of
+these, Mr. Hoyle made common cause. One was a prosperous merchant,
+Thomas Woolrych, who had very large holdings in what is now Huntingdon
+county, and their intimacy was so close that Woolrych presented him
+with his own oil portrait, in late eighteenth century costume, which is
+now in the Chateau de Ramezay. Woolrych was closely related to the
+Christies and to their relatives, the Tunstall family, who ultimately
+followed them as _Seigneurs proprietaires_ of Lacolle. The Seigniory,
+granted in 1727 to Sieur Louis Denis de la Ronde, and anew in 1743 to
+Daniel Lienard de Beaujeu, had been bought, totally undeveloped, along
+with seven others, shortly after the Conquest by General Gabriel
+Christie, an officer of Wolfe, who became Commander-in-Chief in Canada,
+and died in 1799. His handsome stone Manorhouse and mill are to be seen
+at Chambly. He was a connection of the Schuylers by marriage. On his
+death his properties fell to his son General Napier Burton Christie, who
+had married the daughter of General Burton, to whom the dying Wolfe sent
+his last order--to cut off the French retreat at Beauport. Napier Burton
+Christie having died without issue, the eight seigniories de Bleury,
+Repentigny, de Lery, de Beaujeu, Chambly, Noyan, Sabrevois and Chazy
+passed to William Plenderleath, a natural son of Gabriel, under his
+will, which is discussed in the case of _King_ vs _Tunstall_.
+
+Finally, by William Plenderleath Christie's will of 1842 and death in
+1845, the Seigniory of Lacolle passed to the two sons and the grandson
+Gabriel, of the Reverend James Tunstall, of Montreal. Portraits of
+General Christie, his wife, his son Napier, two of his brothers, and two
+of his children, are in the Chateau. The good old Tunstall family,
+representatives of the Christies, remained the _Seigneurs proprietaires_
+of Lacolle until its sale in 1902 to the Credit Foncier. Mrs. Hoyle,
+represented by her husband, early entered into dealings about the
+Seigniory affairs, they being residents within its limits. One of their
+Terrier books begins in 1843. After the Tunstalls became
+_Seigneurs-proprietaires_, they found it convenient to continue the
+arrangement, since they lived in Montreal. The arrangement consisted in
+one of the singular transactions of which the old feudal laws present
+examples. There were various kinds of _Seigneurs_. In this case the
+_Seigneurs-proprietaires_, for a large cash sum advanced to them, gave
+up to Mr. Hoyle (who as we saw really acted for his wife) the entire
+possession of the seigniorial rights, with even the honors, _avec les
+droits honorifiques_, as _Seigneur usufruitier_. A few years afterwards
+one sixth of the ownership was also added, making the Hoyles
+_co-Seineurs proprietaires_. (Since the moneys more strictly belonged to
+the Schuyler heirs, it may be said that equitably they were the real
+Seigneurs). Thus the matter continued for generations, the old house
+being the annual scene of the quaint visits of the censitaires, until
+the recent sale to the Credit Foncier. In the latter sale, the then
+co-seigneur, Henry Hoyle III, reserved his own lands _en seigneurie_,
+with the title of "Seigneur of Lacolle" and the permanent designation of
+the house as "The Manor House of Lacolle", but of course these were
+merely points of sentiment. The demesne estate at one time comprised
+about 2500 arpents. Up to recently they still comprised about 1300, but
+are now only about 600 or 700. The Manor, "Rockcliff Wood", was a
+treasure house of old furniture, silver, china, and relics of the past,
+now distributed among the family, and which had come down from many
+historical forbears. The oldest article was a pewter "great flagon" some
+fourteen inches high, bearing the date stamp of Henry VIII and having on
+its cover a large embossed _fleur-de-lys_ such as pewterers were ordered
+by Henry VIII in 1543 to put upon the covers of all great flagons. This
+is one of the rarest existing pieces of English pewter, and has no known
+duplicate. In the Manoir of Lacolle it worthily represented the
+sixteenth century. The seventeenth was represented by a set of "Late
+Spanish" Dutch chairs, one of which is now owned by a descendant of the
+Schuylers in Montreal. The set had been inherited by old Mrs. Ten Eyck
+Schuyler from her great-grand-mother, a Visscher. Of the eighteenth
+century was the quaint hooded mahogany family cradle; a clawfoot
+Chippendale desk of red mahogany; a Sheraton card-table, an octagonal
+table, one or two shield-back chairs,--all of carved mahogany and of
+different sets; a handsome spindle-legged bow-front Heppelwhite
+sideboard, several old portraits, and much silver coming from General
+Fisher and other relatives, and other objects, including at one time
+various uniforms, a pair of pistols and a field-chest of General
+Schuyler the gold watch and despatches of General Fisher, and other such
+articles. (In fact the pieces mentioned were but a small remnant of
+those which had been brought to the house in 1825). Of Empire period
+were many fine furniture pieces, several silkwork pictures, fiddle and
+grand-father clocks, etc., while naturally the early Victorian, and all
+modern changes, were duly represented. In the cabinets were rare
+collections of various sorts largely brought together by the late Mrs.
+Mary Averill Hoyle, the last co-Seigneuresse, who died early in 1914,
+and whose gracious hospitality and accomplishments seemed part of the
+place. Naturally the old Manoir was a delightful spot to visit, either
+in summer or winter.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Manor House of Lacolle, by W.D. Lighthall
+
+
+

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+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Kentuckiana Digital Library, David Garcia and the PG
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+_A Dainty Trifle for my Lady Love_
+
+
+THE STORY OF A PICTURE
+
+
+_By Douglass Sherley_
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+John P. Morton & Co., Louisville,
+
+1884.
+
+Copyrighted 1884,
+  By Douglass Sherley.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Near my bed, there, hangs a Picture jewels could not buy from me."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+There was a colored crayon in a crowded shop-window. Other people passed
+it by, but a Youth of the Town, with Hope in his heart, leaned over the
+guard-rail and looked upon the beauty of that pictured face long and
+earnestly.
+
+It was the head of a pretty girl with dark hair and dark eyes. She was
+clad in a dainty white gown, loose-flowing and beautiful. In her left
+hand, slender and uplifted, a letter; in her right a pen, and beneath it
+a spotless page.
+
+She was seated within the shadow of a white marble chimney-piece richly
+carved with Cupids, fluttering, kneeling, supplicating; with arrows new,
+broken, and mended; with quivers full, depleted, and empty. The great,
+broad shelf above her pretty head was laden with rare and artistic
+treasures. A vase from India; a costly fan from China; a dark and
+mottled bit of color in an ancient frame of tarnished gold, done by some
+Flemish master of the long-ago. Beyond all this, a ground of shadowy
+green, pale, cool, and delicious. On the table, near the spotless page
+and the dear pen-clasping hand, a bunch of flowers; not a mass of ugly
+blooms, opulent and oppressive, but a few garden roses, old-fashioned
+and exceeding sweet, blushing to their utmost red, having found
+themselves so unexpectedly brought into the presence of this pretty
+girl.
+
+This, in outline, was the picture. The dealer had written on a slip of
+paper, in large, rude letters,
+
+  _Her answer: Yes, or No._
+
+It was a frameless crayon, thrust aside and somewhat overshadowed by a
+huge and garish thing in gaudy-flowered gilt, which easily caught and
+held the eye of the busy throng.
+
+The Youth passed on to his duty of the day with Hope in his heart. Light
+grew his heavy task, and the drudgery of his work was forgotten--he was
+haunted by the sight of that face in the Picture. The softness of the
+eye, the sweetness of the mouth, or something, made the Youth of the
+noisy Town believe her answer would surely be--Yes.
+
+Now the Youth and the Afternoon Shadows together came and feasted on the
+beauty of that Maiden's face. The Shadows, without booty, fled away into
+the night. But not so with the Youth. In triumph he brought it to the
+favored room of his own dear home; and always thereafter this Picture
+gleamed in beauty from out its chimney-piece setting of ebony and old
+cherry.
+
+She was always pretty, sometimes beautiful, but not always the same,
+this my Lady of the Picture. She was indeed a changeful Lady, as the
+story will tell. Those who saw her face when first she was given the
+place of honor in the home of this Youth, with Hope in his heart, all
+said, and with one accord, "There is but one answer for her to make, and
+that one answer is, Yes."
+
+The Easter-tide growing old, and the Summer time new and beautiful,
+brought no change. The last light of each day fell on the clear-cut and
+delicate face, gilded the dark hair with a deep russet brown, played
+about the sweet mouth--and was gone, leaving her with answer yet
+ungiven.
+
+The first fire of the Autumn crackled and glowed on the tiled hearth,
+and threw a Shadow on the face of the pretty girl in the Picture; and
+from that moment there was a change. "But it is only a Shadow from the
+fire-light glow," said the Youth of the Town. But something within
+whispered, "You are wrong; she is going to say, No."
+
+Again and again the words repeated themselves, clearly and distinctly,
+"You are wrong! you are wrong! you are wrong!" Then vaguely and almost
+inaudibly, "She is going to say, No;" with his own voice he made effort
+to drown the words of that fateful refrain. "It is the idle, spiteful
+chatter of some evil spirit. My heart is full of Hope, and I will not
+believe it." But that night, alone with his book and the face over the
+fire, only embers on the hearth--_the Shadow was still there_. But
+he said that it was a wild and troubled fancy--"It is not, can not be an
+actual Shadow; women may change, but surely not pictures."
+
+The next day Autumn repented of its wanton folly, and called out with
+Sunshine and Brightness for the return of the dead Summer. The light
+fell on the face of the girl in the Picture, but it did not lift the
+Shadow. Nor did the dead Summer return to gladden the heart of the
+Autumn, full of too late and useless regret. "No, I am not certain,"
+said the Youth, touched with a Doubt. It was only a touch, but his step
+was heavy and a trifle less quick, as he went down the street to his
+Duty of the day. Again he passed by the crowded shop window. The dealer
+had filled the vacant corner; but he did not see, and he did not care to
+see, what was there. For there was now only one picture in all the world
+for this Youth of the Town with Hope in his heart; but something else
+had crowded into his heart, and it was--Doubt. He went on his way and
+about his duty with this one hopeful thought: "The nightfall will bring
+a change, and the Shadow will have gone." But each day the Shadow
+deepened, and the Youth carried with him a more troubled and a less
+hopeful heart. All those who saw the Picture, and who had seen it
+when first it came, now looked upon it with painful surprise, and
+unhesitatingly said, "Your pretty-faced girl over the mantel yonder
+is undoubtedly going to say, No."
+
+Into the soft, dark eye there seemed to have crept a glitter, cold and
+almost unfeeling. The fatal Shadow had hardened, but not altogether
+stolen away the beauty of that sweet mouth. Even the loose-flowing gown
+seemed to have lost its easy grace, and stiffened into splendid and
+haughty folds, fit only for the form of some grand old Dame proud of her
+beauty and proud of her ancient coronet. The very lace about her slender
+throat--but a misty web of dainty and intricate work--seemed to have
+crystallized and whitened, as if done with a sharp and skillful chisel.
+The pale, pinky tinge about the perfect little ear had deepened into
+a more rosy hue, which had overspread the face--barely more than
+pale--with a deep color and a glow of emotion only half concealed.
+Ah, was it a look of triumph? was it the consciousness of power?
+
+The left hand, holding her Lover's letter, had lost its somewhat
+tremulous look. The fingers of the other hand had tightened about the
+pen, hovering over that unwritten page. And, in short, she seemed ready
+to write the answer--what will it be? The heart of the Youth was full of
+Trouble. Hope flickered up into an uncertain existence. Now the Picture
+had grown hateful to his sight; so a silken curtain, in crimson folds,
+clung against and hid away the face of this Changeful Lady.
+
+But no sooner was the curtain drawn, hiding from sight the lovely and
+beloved face, but an all-powerful desire brought him back again, and lo!
+the curtain was rudely thrust aside; but alas! there was no change.
+
+When away from his room and the siren-like face behind its silken folds
+of crimson, he fretted to return and look again for a change wrought out
+by his brief absence; but there was none.
+
+Hateful indeed the sight may have been of that changeful face, but it
+had grown to him absolutely necessary, and more pleasant, indeed, even
+when hard, cold, and unkind, than other faces not less beautiful smiling
+sweet unspoken words.
+
+He slept in a curtained space near by, and often waked in the still
+watches of the after-midnight, with the Hope in his heart, flaring up
+into a flame and burning him with a desire for another sight of that
+fickle face. Before the picture there hung a dim, red light, which
+burned all the night long. It was a swinging lamp of many tangled chains
+and fretted Venetian metal work. Once it had swung before an holy altar
+in an ancient Mexican town, where it had shed an unextinguished light
+throughout many years. It was a holy thing; so the Youth had thought it
+worthy of a place before the deep-set Picture of the chimney-piece--the
+shrine of his heart's treasure. Thus awakened out of troubled sleep, he
+often rose and stood before the covered Picture, beneath the swinging
+red light brought--stolen, perhaps--from the sacred sanctuary of that
+ancient church down in the land of Mexico. Often, with Hope, Doubt, and
+Fear in his heart, he would turn away from before the untouched curtain.
+"Useless, useless, useless," would be the burden of his thought.
+
+The third Easter-tide comes with its brightness, its flowers, and its
+Hopes--yet my Lady of the Picture has not changed. Still that same
+relentless look; still that premonition of a No not yet said; still in
+her left hand she holds the letter; still in her right hand the pen, and
+the page beneath it is yet guiltless of a word.
+
+But frowns and relentless looks have not put to flight the remnant of
+Hope in the heart of the Youth. "It is only a picture. Why should I
+trouble?" he said.
+
+But words are easy, and many questions are hard to answer.
+
+The Youth had loved the face when first he saw it in the crowded
+shop-window of the Town. So did he love it now. Change can not kill
+Love, if Love it be. What matter to the Youth even if the eye had grown
+cold and a Shadow rested about the sweet mouth? Can such things as these
+make denial to the heart of a Lover? Aye, to the heart of a Love-maker,
+but not to the heart of one who loves. There is no limit to Love. A
+thousand nays can not check its course if true Love it be.
+
+But again there is a change with my Lady of the Picture. Does the heart
+of the advancing Easter-tide hold the magic spell? Those who chance to
+see her now note it, and think it strange. "No," they murmur, "will be
+her answer. But it is her Duty that bids her, and she must obey."
+
+The silken curtain is torn down and the light of day completes the
+triple story of this, my Lady of the Picture. The cold glitter is gone
+from about the eyes, and the old soft light has returned, and yet it is
+not the same as of old. The fatal Shadow round about the sweet mouth is
+but a bare outline--a shade, not a Shadow any more.
+
+Again the pretty white gown is loose--flowing and beautiful. The thought
+of the grand old Dame, proud of her beauty and proud of her ancient
+coronet, vanishes with the morning mist of the Easter-tide. Again the
+dainty lace that clings to her slender white and flower-like throat,
+softens and grows creamy and weblike, free from the bleachment and
+crystallization of a while ago. Again the face is barely more than pale.
+The deep color has faded away, leaving but a faint, delicate trace, and
+a pinky tinge which reaches out until it kisses the utmost tip of her
+perfect little ear. How deep, tender, and wondrous sad those eyes have
+grown! Down in their dark depths her very soul seems to tremble into
+sight. It is only one who has suffered who can have such eyes. And, in
+truth, it is worth almost a lifetime of suffering to look deep down into
+such eyes of sad beauty. She was but a pretty-faced girl; but now,
+behold! she is a beautiful woman. And she is weary, O, so weary with the
+long, hard battle within.
+
+But Fear and Doubt still dwell and share with Hope a place in the heart
+of the Youth. He finds it sweet comfort to believe that even if her
+answer be No, it may come from a sense of Duty. Love is Love always, but
+not so with Duty. For that which may be Duty to-day may not be Duty on
+the morrow.
+
+So the Youth of the Town longs for the coming of the morrow.
+
+Who wrote, and sent to her with those sweet red roses from some old-time
+garden, this, his Lover's letter, which she still is holding in her left
+hand, once again just a trifle tremulous? Who has asked this question of
+a woman's heart? Is he a man strong and noble, whom she does not love,
+yet does not wish to wound? Or is it some one less strong, less noble,
+who has her Love, although he be unworthy of it?
+
+And does Duty bid her make denial, even though it break her loving
+heart?
+
+Is it Regret, Duty, Love, or What?
+
+But still she gives no answer. And the Youth of the Town is still
+hoping, doubting, fearing.
+
+Ah, my sweet, sad-eyed Lady, what will your answer be?
+
+
+
+  Sherley Place,
+    Easter-tide, 1884.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Story of a Picture, by Douglass Sherley
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg15211.txt

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+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Starner, Karen Dalrymple, and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+_Some Broken Twigs_
+
+
+_BY_
+CLARA M. BEEDE
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+The Press of Flozari, Pegasus Studios
+Box 5804, Cleveland, 1, Ohio
+1946
+
+
+     _Dedicated to my granddaughter
+      BETTY TODD BRISTOW
+      the new mother_
+
+
+
+ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
+
+We are grateful for permission to include certain poems that were
+first published in Caravan of Verse, Cass County Democrat, 1943
+Chipmunk, From, Lyricists Reflections, 1940 Song Poems, The New Earth,
+Tulsa Tribune, and 1941 Visions.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OTHER TORCHBEARER CHAPBOOKS
+
+by
+
+CLARA M. BEEDE
+
+  45: Brown Plumes
+  51: More Brown Plumes
+  63: Sunshine and Rain
+  73: Clear Crystals (Second Printing)
+  88: Only Pebbles
+  94: Golden Leaves
+  98: Sail High Above
+
+
+
+
+FOREWORD
+
+
+In the four seasons of the year there are many beautiful days as well
+as dismal days in life. The broken twigs and trails, as well as the
+good ones go to make up this world. All mark and show posterity the
+way out of the woods.
+
+These poems, and many other poems written by Mrs. Beede show these
+things and the wonders of nature.
+
+As only a true mother can, she has shown me these wonders. I sincerely
+hope that all who read her poems will appreciate them as I do and reap
+the benefit of the morals of her thoughtful and enjoyable poems and
+know as I do her love of nature and things beautiful.
+
+Genevieve Beede Henderson
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+TO NEW YORK
+
+
+  For maid and lad New York is fairy land,
+  Delightful charms in gorgeous brilliant lure!
+  Our youth do struggle on ambition's tour.
+  They meet life's challenge with true heart and hand.
+  Forgotten trails are marked with scar and wand;
+  A blasted rock and broken twigs assure
+  The traveler that others fought the moor,
+  And sailed the stormy breakers, crossed the sand
+  To build the city on a granite slab.
+  They tamed the wilderness, a sturdy clan!
+  Retracing paths recall the glory made,
+  Lays bare the secrets of the field and lab.
+  Such tours give hope for future life and plan.
+  Brave men have set the torch with ax and spade.
+
+
+
+
+MEET THE CHALLENGE
+
+
+  The coddled youth, like greenhouse plant
+  Will wilt and die in desert sand,
+  Can never meet the storms of life,
+  Untried and mild and soft his hands.
+
+  He walks within the favored nooks,
+  Protected there much more than those,
+  Who meet the challenge face ahead,
+  And struggle on to conquer foes.
+
+  They learn to take the gaff and thrust,
+  And from an inner courage gain
+  A faith in toil and love of truth;
+  They pray to God to ease the pain.
+
+
+
+
+WINTER
+
+
+  A glow of life shines from the leaf-stripped limbs,
+  In sheltered nooks snowbirds are singing hymns.
+  The sycamore shafts gleam and shine afar,
+  Down by the river where the black oaks are.
+  The goldenrod now droops his fuzzy head;
+  There by my fence, leaves make a fluffy bed.
+  They mulch my flower seed down in the loam;
+  Beyond below the tall sedge grasses moan.
+  Seared grass curls firmly over tender sprigs,
+  And my rose bush there curves its brown thorned twigs.
+  Beneath my window, tulip bulbs lay snug,
+  Quite safe and warm in earthy winter rug.
+  All nature resting for a springtime gain,
+  And quiet gray tones soothe an inner pain.
+
+
+
+
+DREAMING BY THE RIVER
+
+
+  Ripples on the water
+  Rustling in the trees
+  Wind sighing gently
+  Whistling by with ease.
+  Cow-bells tinkling distant
+  Farmer on the lea,
+  Cattle nibbling grasses
+  Little honey bee.
+  Frosted leaves of autumn
+  Sailing down the stream.
+  Neatest clump of willows,
+  Oh, for some ice cream.
+
+
+
+
+WHEN YOU COME HOME
+
+
+  O happy, happy heart, that can but leap
+  For joy, when you return to me again;
+  The love within grows fresh as morning glen,
+  Awakes and lights the gloom where shadows creep.
+  --The night will come and with it women weep.
+  Stay, Dear, with me, for dark will come and then,
+  It fills the soul with fear--don't go again--
+  Black clouds will roll, when only children sleep.
+  O Darling storms of midnight vex and threat;
+  The gullies moan and then the goblins see!
+  It is not wise or brave to prattle so;
+  And Dear, if you must go, I will not fret;
+  The sun will shine when you come home to me,
+  Dark night is day and only mild winds blow.
+
+
+
+
+CHILDREN AT THE PARK
+
+
+  We hop and skip in time
+  In the shade of the sycamore trees,
+  Fly around like the birds and the bees.
+
+  We swing and sway and climb
+  To the top of the strong monkey bars,
+  Watch the boats and the Riverside cars.
+
+  We swim and shout in glee,
+  While the ships on the river sail on.
+  How time flies and the morning is gone.
+
+  We leap and prance about
+  And we sing by the Riverside drive.
+  Thus we play and we eat and we thrive.
+
+
+
+
+THE FLEET (1945)
+
+
+  A long line of ships,
+  War-scarred in glory smothered
+  On navy's glad day.
+
+
+
+
+SPRING IS BUDDING
+
+
+  Why is the sun ashining
+  And all the faces glad?
+  Why are the buds abursting
+  And not, a thing is sad?
+        I hear the sparrow twittering
+        Her sweet old melody.
+        Darling the spring is budding
+        In all her ecstasy.
+  Spring and the sun are smiling
+  To bring the leaves and cress.
+  Love in the heart is waking
+  To give us happiness.
+        I hear the lark awarbling
+        Her sweet old melody.
+        And too my heart is singing
+        In happy ecstasy.
+
+
+
+
+BEAUTIFUL ROSE
+
+
+  Beautiful rose
+  Your crimson velvet tells me
+  The loveliest message.
+
+
+
+
+SUN ON THE RIVER
+
+
+  O river, flowing on,
+  In flashing sunlight roll,
+  And join the ocean lawn
+  Up to the island shoal.
+
+  O great and mighty stream,
+  With flaming breast and bow,
+  Your ferries glide and gleam
+  Through sparkling glare and glow.
+
+  O sun, on rolling wave
+  Shine far out to the sea,
+  And rounded billows pave,
+  Like quickened silver flee.
+
+  O sheets of dazzling light,
+  Move on close to the edge,
+  Where ships are anchored right,
+  And gold flames on the ledge.
+
+  O rivers, drifting fire
+  With steamers flaming wide,
+  Play on your silent lyre
+  Until the shadows hide.
+
+
+
+
+OUT ON THE BAY
+
+
+  Out on the bay
+  Was spread a silver while sheet,
+  Glazed and painted by the sun,
+  Today.
+
+  Down in my heart
+  Was pain and sorrow's dark sleet
+  Eased and melted by the sun,
+  In part.
+
+
+
+
+RESTING
+
+
+  There is no soothing so complete,
+    As sitting in the sun,
+  Or chasing butterflies through wheat,
+    Although no cloth is spun.
+
+
+
+
+A SHOWER'S MELODY
+
+
+  A babbling brooklet wends its happy way
+  Adown a rocky path across the plain.
+  And goes a-galloping along in rain.
+  In drought he stops and waits a lucky day,
+  When clouds roll up and men and women pray,
+  And withered is the corn and grasses and grain.
+  The dust clings thick on every sill and pane.
+  A shower soon refreshes loam and clay.
+  The little stream resumes its cheerful hymn.
+  It warbles on content to sing and flow,
+  The music lilts and swells in happy glee;
+  And too, the birds and bees join in with vim,
+  Harmonious, alive, in twilight glow
+  A mighty choir of gorgeous melody!
+
+
+
+
+IF YOU HEAR
+
+
+  If you hear the scoff of friends,
+  Or see their anger grow,
+  Just please remember this,
+  Perhaps they do not know.
+
+
+
+
+DANCING ON A LEVEL ROAD
+
+
+  It is a happy thing to dance
+    A long a level road
+  So brave a deed to take a chance
+    Of slipping off the load.
+
+
+
+
+IT WAS HOME
+
+
+  A little old house in a sheltered nook,
+  Some cottonwood trees near a babbling brook,
+  A sturdy gnarled oak by a grassy lane
+  That leads to green pastures past flowing grain.
+  A trellised rose bush hides a crumbling wall,
+  Where lovers have stood near the waterfall;
+  Beyond the sun sets in a golden glow
+  And shadows stretch far to the mead below.
+  A shining wire fence follows up the hill
+  And curves about to the graded fill.
+  Then back to the house in a cozy spot
+  We loiter there on the hallowed lot,
+  Where Mother's sweet face waits, in gentle calm,
+  And Father sits near and roads an old psalm.
+
+
+
+
+QUESTIONS
+
+
+  If I could brush the cobwebs from my eyes,
+      What could I see?
+  If I could roll the boulder from my path,
+      What would I be?
+
+
+
+
+DISTRUST
+
+
+  He walks the safest way;
+  There must be no thistles on his path.
+  He knows all men are clay.
+  If truth wears feathers in her cap,
+  They must be plucked away,
+  That all may proven be.
+
+
+
+
+COUNTING
+
+
+  The morning sun casts purple in the fields,
+  A mocking bird sings gaily in the oaks,
+  White fluffy clouds rest in the murky sky.
+  It is yet cool, the maples scarcely stir,
+  But noon will burn the grasses by the way
+  And give the girl there at the soda fount
+  A welcome trade. The heat will parch the earth,
+  So that flowers will wilt and droop their charm.
+  But night will come and bring refreshing breeze
+  And fold a soothing mantle over all
+  Like mother spreading blankets over Tom.
+  Now day by day the summer slips on by,
+  Its stifling heat and gloomy skies will pass.
+  And winter cold will come with hoary frost;
+  Yet by our hearths we rest in quiet peace,
+  Secure our roofs and snug our sheltered beds.
+  Remember Spring, how roses bloom and flamed!
+  And how the sunny days kept pace with time.
+  In winter some hours will be gilded gold.
+  It's true our blessings add up more than half.
+
+
+
+
+ON THE FERRY
+
+
+  A multitude of lights twinkled in glee;
+  Receding ones reached out, their friendship gleamed
+  With hands across to shield from dark, it seemed;
+  And coming dock was lit from home to sea.
+  There was no gloam and dusk for you and me.
+  The stars above, grand sentinels all reamed,
+  Conducting us home like naught ever dreamed;
+  The scalloped bridge festooned like a Christmas tree,
+  And gate post lamps led strangers through the park.
+  Our fathers planned that all should walk in light,
+  That every man could find his way like day,
+  Until the amber dawning wake the lark.
+  Thus peacefully we glided through the night,
+  Serenely going home the ferry way.
+
+
+
+
+PERHAPS
+
+
+  I see a gorgeous city, pompous, grand,
+  And hear it weeping with pain long borne.
+  It is built on rock and nobly planned,
+  The glory shine like bloom with leaf and thorn.
+
+  I feel its memories in brick and stone,
+  And lift my eyes to see the sky and stars.
+  Unpainted rock in weathered greys and blown
+  With winds and well I understand the bars.
+
+  From walk to turret there are many eyes,
+  Perhaps some measuring these thoughts of mine,
+  What color hair? How long the coat and thighs?
+  It may be true we drink the self-same wine.
+
+
+
+
+OKLAHOMA
+
+
+  Hail Oklahoma land! O prairie plain,
+  There is no state more dearly loved.--All hail!
+  Where grassy hills and sheltered cove and vale
+  Rest quietly in peace--and in refrain
+  Our voices lift in praise and joy again;
+  We sing of Oklahoma land.--All hail!
+  Of sunny skies and even windy gale,
+  And wealth of growing corn and flowing grain;
+  Where black gold gleams and roses bloom in spring.
+  Here long roads stretch and grazing cow-herds roam.
+  We build in faith great churches and our state
+  With many schools, where children gaily sing.
+  We love our loamy fields and prairie home
+  And struggle onward upward, soon and late.
+
+  Hail Oklahoma land! O grassy plain,
+  There is no state more dearly loved.--All hail!
+
+
+
+
+OUR MORNING PRAYER
+
+
+  Our Father in heaven,
+  Drive from the soul the hopelessness,
+  Fill it with charity and faith,
+  And fire the heart with kindliness,
+  For Jesus sake, amen.
+
+
+
+
+WE THANK OUR GOD
+
+
+  We thank our God for this glad Christmas day,
+  For health and freedom, peace and hope today.
+  We float our flag on every hill and trail;
+  All Hail! The red and white and blue, all hail!
+  Again upon the board a feast is spread,
+  And God now guards and blesses our good bread.
+  Our turkey's big and fat and pudding brown,
+  And we will smile all day and wear no frown.
+  Once more our bins are filled with corn and wheat,
+  The bread we break is good, so light and sweet,
+  Cranberries, pumpkin pies and walnut meats.
+  We bow to thank our God for these good eats.
+  This land America! To God give thanks.
+  Our men are strong and brave in all the ranks.
+  All Hail America! Our hope and pride.
+  God bless our home and now with us abide.
+
+
+
+
+WAITING
+
+
+  The waiting minutes
+  Tick on but never ending
+  To eternity.
+  The years do not wait.
+  So stealthily do they move,
+  Like deep swift water.
+
+
+
+
+THAT HAPPY COMPANIONSHIP
+
+
+  Remembering friends of the not long ago,
+  Their laughter a gay bubbling song.
+  The whispering of secrets, the rapture of show.
+  The mounting of spirits lit the peak aglow
+  And lifted the heart up along
+
+  The forgetting of wrong in a moment of joy,
+  Quite erased the hurt and the scar,
+  With music of kindness and naught to annoy,
+  And gold of the friendship refusing alloy.
+  Thus comrades in their happiness are.
+
+
+
+
+I WATCHED MY FLOWERS
+
+
+  I watched my flowers grow and brighten barren places;
+  They smiled at me the whole day long with brilliant faces
+  The blues and reds, the white and yellow in morning dews
+  Drove out the hurt of bitter grief and other bruise,
+  But now the drought will blight the tender buds and leaves.
+  And parch the earth as the winds blow on scorching sprees,
+  'Til July's heat and August sun are duly past,
+  Yet many things are fine and good at weary last
+  For if the rain should come, good seed would surely die.
+  In truth, I should be thankful for a cloudless sky
+  To ripen seed that sprout and grow in barren places.
+  And wink at me next year with bright and smiling faces
+
+
+
+
+BEES OF HATRED
+
+
+  The bees of hatred hover
+  Above and around us.
+  A good crop will be hatched
+  To torment and sting us.
+
+
+
+
+THIS AFTERNOON
+
+
+  This afternoon, an angry heart and crude
+  Consoled himself with an unkindly deed.
+  Within his soul was hate like garden weed,
+  That choked the buds and bulbs. In childish feud,
+  His glee, like noisy urchins brash and rude,
+  Who trample flowers, pay no thoughtful heed.
+  The careless acts bring harm and pain with speed.
+  And sin-scarred hearts deceive themselves, delude
+  No one. Such souls will have few friends at last.
+  When life is hard, no one will bear his care
+  Unless a kindly one, who looks about
+  To help, to pull and clear. The field is vast!
+  O weary man! Unhappy world! "Unfair
+  Is life" men say, "The whole is full of doubt."
+
+
+
+
+SHE RETURNED IT
+
+
+  She borrowed a lump of sugar
+    To sweeten a cup of tea.
+  I felt so very silly
+    When she brought it back to me.
+
+
+
+
+TO MY FRIENDS
+
+
+  On Christmas day, let happy dreams
+  Sparkle and flow like bubbling streams.
+
+
+
+
+A MAIDEN'S DREAM
+
+
+  I often think and dream and ponder
+    Of things that I have seen,
+  And twist the real into a wonder
+    When men and birds convene.
+
+  If I could reach that star up yonder,
+    My soul would lift and preen;
+  If Summertime would always stay
+    My yard would be more green.
+
+  I see the airplane rise and soaring
+    On all bright days and fair;
+  The tiny specks go roaring out
+    Across the hills from care.
+
+  If my good pilot friend is landing
+    On some star world up there.
+  He might bring back some silver
+    Or flowers for my hair.
+
+
+
+
+PROMISES
+
+
+  On New Year's day
+    Mankind makes promises
+  Of gossamer film.
+
+
+
+
+IN BOASTFUL PRIDE
+
+
+  He walked quite proudly on the rocky ledge
+  And shouted, "I am standing here so high!
+  How fine the valley and the flowing rye,
+  I see the barn that's near the osage hedge;
+  Come look--it's splendid from this shaly edge!"
+  He leaned far out and slipped--the foolish guy.
+  Where he had stood was only murky sky.
+  To face great danger is a privilege.
+  Don't dare for show, my boy, the rock might slide.
+  For worthy cause the brave will stand or fall,
+  But watch the stepping where the bluff is steep;
+  Remember too when flushed with boastful pride,
+  Men take most careless risks--don't reckon all;
+  And then--a life goes out in just one leap.
+
+
+
+
+IN THE STORM
+
+
+  Hear the gale roaring through woods!
+      Trees bend and snap and sway,
+      They race and break on this dark day.
+  If I could fashion some sturdy hoods
+      To hold the storm at bay,
+      Then trim and straight would all trees stay.
+  But great trees knotted by winds' moods
+      --Like men who face their care--
+  Stand scarred yet staunch and bravely there.
+
+
+
+THE PRESS OF FLOZARI
+
+COLOPHON
+
+This is number 107 of the Torchbearers' Chapbooks, printed by hand at
+the Pegasus Studio, from hand-set 10 point Century on Eggshell paper,
+in an edition of 110 copies and the type distributed.
+
+  Copies may be secured from the author, at 75c each, postpaid
+  Clara M. Beede, 146-1/2 North College, Tulsa 4, Okla.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg1543.txt

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+
+
+
+
+
+A LOVER’S COMPLAINT
+
+by William Shakespeare
+
+
+
+
+From off a hill whose concave womb reworded
+A plaintful story from a sist’ring vale,
+My spirits t’attend this double voice accorded,
+And down I laid to list the sad-tun’d tale;
+Ere long espied a fickle maid full pale,
+Tearing of papers, breaking rings a-twain,
+Storming her world with sorrow’s wind and rain.
+
+Upon her head a platted hive of straw,
+Which fortified her visage from the sun,
+Whereon the thought might think sometime it saw
+The carcass of a beauty spent and done;
+Time had not scythed all that youth begun,
+Nor youth all quit, but spite of heaven’s fell rage
+Some beauty peeped through lattice of sear’d age.
+
+Oft did she heave her napkin to her eyne,
+Which on it had conceited characters,
+Laund’ring the silken figures in the brine
+That seasoned woe had pelleted in tears,
+And often reading what contents it bears;
+As often shrieking undistinguish’d woe,
+In clamours of all size, both high and low.
+
+Sometimes her levell’d eyes their carriage ride,
+As they did batt’ry to the spheres intend;
+Sometime diverted their poor balls are tied
+To th’orbed earth; sometimes they do extend
+Their view right on; anon their gazes lend
+To every place at once, and nowhere fix’d,
+The mind and sight distractedly commix’d.
+
+Her hair, nor loose nor tied in formal plat,
+Proclaim’d in her a careless hand of pride;
+For some untuck’d descended her sheav’d hat,
+Hanging her pale and pined cheek beside;
+Some in her threaden fillet still did bide,
+And, true to bondage, would not break from thence,
+Though slackly braided in loose negligence.
+
+A thousand favours from a maund she drew,
+Of amber, crystal, and of beaded jet,
+Which one by one she in a river threw,
+Upon whose weeping margent she was set,
+Like usury applying wet to wet,
+Or monarchs’ hands, that lets not bounty fall
+Where want cries ‘some,’ but where excess begs ‘all’.
+
+Of folded schedules had she many a one,
+Which she perus’d, sigh’d, tore and gave the flood;
+Crack’d many a ring of posied gold and bone,
+Bidding them find their sepulchres in mud;
+Found yet mo letters sadly penn’d in blood,
+With sleided silk, feat and affectedly
+Enswath’d, and seal’d to curious secrecy.
+
+These often bath’d she in her fluxive eyes,
+And often kiss’d, and often gave to tear;
+Cried, ‘O false blood, thou register of lies,
+What unapproved witness dost thou bear!
+Ink would have seem’d more black and damned here!’
+This said, in top of rage the lines she rents,
+Big discontent so breaking their contents.
+
+A reverend man that grazed his cattle nigh,
+Sometime a blusterer, that the ruffle knew
+Of court, of city, and had let go by
+The swiftest hours observed as they flew,
+Towards this afflicted fancy fastly drew;
+And, privileg’d by age, desires to know
+In brief the grounds and motives of her woe.
+
+So slides he down upon his grained bat,
+And comely distant sits he by her side,
+When he again desires her, being sat,
+Her grievance with his hearing to divide:
+If that from him there may be aught applied
+Which may her suffering ecstasy assuage,
+’Tis promised in the charity of age.
+
+‘Father,’ she says, ‘though in me you behold
+The injury of many a blasting hour,
+Let it not tell your judgement I am old,
+Not age, but sorrow, over me hath power.
+I might as yet have been a spreading flower,
+Fresh to myself, if I had self-applied
+Love to myself, and to no love beside.
+
+‘But woe is me! Too early I attended
+A youthful suit; it was to gain my grace;
+O one by nature’s outwards so commended,
+That maiden’s eyes stuck over all his face,
+Love lack’d a dwelling and made him her place;
+And when in his fair parts she did abide,
+She was new lodg’d and newly deified.
+
+‘His browny locks did hang in crooked curls,
+And every light occasion of the wind
+Upon his lips their silken parcels hurls,
+What’s sweet to do, to do will aptly find,
+Each eye that saw him did enchant the mind:
+For on his visage was in little drawn,
+What largeness thinks in paradise was sawn.
+
+‘Small show of man was yet upon his chin;
+His phoenix down began but to appear,
+Like unshorn velvet, on that termless skin,
+Whose bare out-bragg’d the web it seemed to wear.
+Yet show’d his visage by that cost more dear,
+And nice affections wavering stood in doubt
+If best were as it was, or best without.
+
+‘His qualities were beauteous as his form,
+For maiden-tongued he was, and thereof free;
+Yet if men mov’d him, was he such a storm
+As oft ’twixt May and April is to see,
+When winds breathe sweet, unruly though they be.
+His rudeness so with his authoriz’d youth
+Did livery falseness in a pride of truth.
+
+‘Well could he ride, and often men would say
+That horse his mettle from his rider takes,
+Proud of subjection, noble by the sway,
+What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop he makes!
+And controversy hence a question takes,
+Whether the horse by him became his deed,
+Or he his manage by th’ well-doing steed.
+
+‘But quickly on this side the verdict went,
+His real habitude gave life and grace
+To appertainings and to ornament,
+Accomplish’d in himself, not in his case;
+All aids, themselves made fairer by their place,
+Came for additions; yet their purpos’d trim
+Piec’d not his grace, but were all grac’d by him.
+
+‘So on the tip of his subduing tongue
+All kind of arguments and question deep,
+All replication prompt, and reason strong,
+For his advantage still did wake and sleep,
+To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep:
+He had the dialect and different skill,
+Catching all passions in his craft of will.
+
+‘That he did in the general bosom reign
+Of young, of old, and sexes both enchanted,
+To dwell with him in thoughts, or to remain
+In personal duty, following where he haunted,
+Consent’s bewitch’d, ere he desire, have granted,
+And dialogued for him what he would say,
+Ask’d their own wills, and made their wills obey.
+
+‘Many there were that did his picture get
+To serve their eyes, and in it put their mind,
+Like fools that in th’ imagination set
+The goodly objects which abroad they find
+Of lands and mansions, theirs in thought assign’d,
+And labouring in moe pleasures to bestow them,
+Than the true gouty landlord which doth owe them.
+
+‘So many have, that never touch’d his hand,
+Sweetly suppos’d them mistress of his heart.
+My woeful self that did in freedom stand,
+And was my own fee-simple (not in part)
+What with his art in youth, and youth in art,
+Threw my affections in his charmed power,
+Reserv’d the stalk and gave him all my flower.
+
+‘Yet did I not, as some my equals did,
+Demand of him, nor being desired yielded,
+Finding myself in honour so forbid,
+With safest distance I mine honour shielded.
+Experience for me many bulwarks builded
+Of proofs new-bleeding, which remain’d the foil
+Of this false jewel, and his amorous spoil.
+
+‘But ah! Who ever shunn’d by precedent
+The destin’d ill she must herself assay,
+Or force’d examples ’gainst her own content,
+To put the by-pass’d perils in her way?
+Counsel may stop a while what will not stay:
+For when we rage, advice is often seen
+By blunting us to make our wills more keen.
+
+‘Nor gives it satisfaction to our blood,
+That we must curb it upon others’ proof,
+To be forbode the sweets that seems so good,
+For fear of harms that preach in our behoof.
+O appetite, from judgement stand aloof!
+The one a palate hath that needs will taste,
+Though reason weep and cry, “It is thy last.”
+
+‘For further I could say, “This man’s untrue”,
+And knew the patterns of his foul beguiling;
+Heard where his plants in others’ orchards grew,
+Saw how deceits were gilded in his smiling;
+Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling;
+Thought characters and words merely but art,
+And bastards of his foul adulterate heart.
+
+‘And long upon these terms I held my city,
+Till thus he ’gan besiege me: “Gentle maid,
+Have of my suffering youth some feeling pity,
+And be not of my holy vows afraid:
+That’s to ye sworn, to none was ever said,
+For feasts of love I have been call’d unto,
+Till now did ne’er invite, nor never woo.
+
+‘“All my offences that abroad you see
+Are errors of the blood, none of the mind:
+Love made them not; with acture they may be,
+Where neither party is nor true nor kind,
+They sought their shame that so their shame did find,
+And so much less of shame in me remains,
+By how much of me their reproach contains.
+
+‘“Among the many that mine eyes have seen,
+Not one whose flame my heart so much as warmed,
+Or my affection put to th’ smallest teen,
+Or any of my leisures ever charmed:
+Harm have I done to them, but ne’er was harmed;
+Kept hearts in liveries, but mine own was free,
+And reign’d commanding in his monarchy.
+
+‘“Look here what tributes wounded fancies sent me,
+Of pallid pearls and rubies red as blood,
+Figuring that they their passions likewise lent me
+Of grief and blushes, aptly understood
+In bloodless white and the encrimson’d mood;
+Effects of terror and dear modesty,
+Encamp’d in hearts, but fighting outwardly.
+
+‘“And, lo! behold these talents of their hair,
+With twisted metal amorously empleach’d,
+I have receiv’d from many a several fair,
+Their kind acceptance weepingly beseech’d,
+With th’ annexions of fair gems enrich’d,
+And deep-brain’d sonnets that did amplify
+Each stone’s dear nature, worth and quality.
+
+‘“The diamond, why ’twas beautiful and hard,
+Whereto his invis’d properties did tend,
+The deep green emerald, in whose fresh regard
+Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend;
+The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend
+With objects manifold; each several stone,
+With wit well blazon’d smil’d, or made some moan.
+
+‘“Lo, all these trophies of affections hot,
+Of pensiv’d and subdued desires the tender,
+Nature hath charg’d me that I hoard them not,
+But yield them up where I myself must render,
+That is, to you, my origin and ender:
+For these of force must your oblations be,
+Since I their altar, you empatron me.
+
+‘“O then advance of yours that phraseless hand,
+Whose white weighs down the airy scale of praise;
+Take all these similes to your own command,
+Hallowed with sighs that burning lungs did raise:
+What me, your minister for you, obeys,
+Works under you; and to your audit comes
+Their distract parcels in combined sums.
+
+‘“Lo, this device was sent me from a nun,
+Or sister sanctified of holiest note,
+Which late her noble suit in court did shun,
+Whose rarest havings made the blossoms dote;
+For she was sought by spirits of richest coat,
+But kept cold distance, and did thence remove
+To spend her living in eternal love.
+
+‘“But O, my sweet, what labour is’t to leave
+The thing we have not, mast’ring what not strives,
+Planing the place which did no form receive,
+Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves,
+She that her fame so to herself contrives,
+The scars of battle ’scapeth by the flight,
+And makes her absence valiant, not her might.
+
+‘“O pardon me, in that my boast is true,
+The accident which brought me to her eye,
+Upon the moment did her force subdue,
+And now she would the caged cloister fly:
+Religious love put out religion’s eye:
+Not to be tempted would she be immur’d,
+And now to tempt all, liberty procur’d.
+
+‘“How mighty then you are, O hear me tell!
+The broken bosoms that to me belong
+Have emptied all their fountains in my well,
+And mine I pour your ocean all among:
+I strong o’er them, and you o’er me being strong,
+Must for your victory us all congest,
+As compound love to physic your cold breast.
+
+‘“My parts had pow’r to charm a sacred nun,
+Who, disciplin’d and dieted in grace,
+Believ’d her eyes when they t’assail begun,
+All vows and consecrations giving place.
+O most potential love! Vow, bond, nor space,
+In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine,
+For thou art all and all things else are thine.
+
+‘“When thou impressest, what are precepts worth
+Of stale example? When thou wilt inflame,
+How coldly those impediments stand forth,
+Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame!
+Love’s arms are peace, ’gainst rule, ’gainst sense, ’gainst shame,
+And sweetens, in the suff’ring pangs it bears,
+The aloes of all forces, shocks and fears.
+
+‘“Now all these hearts that do on mine depend,
+Feeling it break, with bleeding groans they pine,
+And supplicant their sighs to your extend,
+To leave the batt’ry that you make ’gainst mine,
+Lending soft audience to my sweet design,
+And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath,
+That shall prefer and undertake my troth.”
+
+‘This said, his wat’ry eyes he did dismount,
+Whose sights till then were levell’d on my face;
+Each cheek a river running from a fount
+With brinish current downward flowed apace.
+O how the channel to the stream gave grace!
+Who, glaz’d with crystal gate the glowing roses
+That flame through water which their hue encloses.
+
+‘O father, what a hell of witchcraft lies
+In the small orb of one particular tear!
+But with the inundation of the eyes
+What rocky heart to water will not wear?
+What breast so cold that is not warmed here?
+O cleft effect! Cold modesty, hot wrath,
+Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath.
+
+‘For lo, his passion, but an art of craft,
+Even there resolv’d my reason into tears;
+There my white stole of chastity I daff’d,
+Shook off my sober guards, and civil fears,
+Appear to him as he to me appears,
+All melting, though our drops this diff’rence bore:
+His poison’d me, and mine did him restore.
+
+‘In him a plenitude of subtle matter,
+Applied to cautels, all strange forms receives,
+Of burning blushes, or of weeping water,
+Or swooning paleness; and he takes and leaves,
+In either’s aptness, as it best deceives,
+To blush at speeches rank, to weep at woes,
+Or to turn white and swoon at tragic shows.
+
+‘That not a heart which in his level came
+Could ’scape the hail of his all-hurting aim,
+Showing fair nature is both kind and tame;
+And veil’d in them, did win whom he would maim.
+Against the thing he sought he would exclaim;
+When he most burned in heart-wish’d luxury,
+He preach’d pure maid, and prais’d cold chastity.
+
+‘Thus merely with the garment of a grace,
+The naked and concealed fiend he cover’d,
+That th’unexperient gave the tempter place,
+Which, like a cherubin, above them hover’d.
+Who, young and simple, would not be so lover’d?
+Ay me! I fell, and yet do question make
+What I should do again for such a sake.
+
+‘O, that infected moisture of his eye,
+O, that false fire which in his cheek so glow’d!
+O, that forc’d thunder from his heart did fly,
+O, that sad breath his spongy lungs bestow’d,
+O, all that borrowed motion, seeming owed,
+Would yet again betray the fore-betrayed,
+And new pervert a reconciled maid.’
+
+
+
+

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+
+
+
+
+
+SONNETS TO SUNDRY NOTES OF MUSIC
+
+by William Shakespeare
+
+
+
+
+I.
+
+It was a lording's daughter, the fairest one of three,
+That liked of her master as well as well might be.
+Till looking on an Englishman, the fair'st that eye could see,
+  Her fancy fell a-turning.
+Long was the combat doubtful, that love with love did fight,
+To leave the master loveless, or kill the gallant knight;
+To put in practice either, alas, it was a spite
+  Unto the silly damsel!
+But one must be refused, more mickle was the pain,
+That nothing could be used, to turn them both to gain,
+For of the two the trusty knight was wounded with disdain:
+  Alas, she could not help it!
+Thus art, with arms contending, was victor of the day,
+Which by a gift of learnlng did bear the maid away;
+Then, lullaby, the learned man hath got the lady gay;
+  For now my song is ended.
+
+
+II.
+
+On a day (alack the day!)
+Love, whose month was ever May,
+Spied a blossom passing fair,
+Playing in the wanton air:
+Through the velvet leaves the wind,
+All unseen, 'gan passage find;
+That the lover, sick to death,
+Wish'd himself the heaven's breath.
+Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow;
+Air, would I might triumph so!
+But, alas! my hand hath sworn
+Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn:
+Vow, alack, for youth unmeet,
+Youth, so apt to pluck a sweet,
+Thou for whom Jove would swear
+Juno but an Ethiope were;
+And deny himself for Jove,
+Turning mortal for thy love.
+
+
+III.
+
+My flocks feed not,
+My ewes breed not,
+My rams speed not,
+  All is amiss:
+Love is dying,
+Faith's defying,
+Heart's denying,
+  Causer of this.
+All my merry jigs are quite forgot,
+All my lady's love is lost, God wot:
+Where her faith was firmly fix'd in love,
+There a nay is plac'd without remove.
+One silly cross
+Wrought all my loss;
+  O frowning Fortune, cursed, fickle dame!
+For now I see,
+Inconstancy
+  More in women than in men remain.
+
+In black mourn I,
+All fears scorn I,
+Love bath forlorn me,
+  Living in thrall:
+Heart is bleeding,
+All help needing,
+(O cruel speeding!)
+  Fraughted with gall.
+My shepherd's pipe can sound no deal,
+My wether's bell rings doleful knell;
+My curtail dog, that wont to have play'd,
+Plays not at all, but seems afraid;
+With sighs so deep,
+Procures to weep,
+  In howling-wise, to see my doleful plight.
+How sighs resound
+Through heartless ground,
+  Like a thousand vanquish'd men in bloody fight!
+
+Clear wells spring not,
+Sweet birds sing  not,
+Green plants bring not
+  Forth; they die;
+Herds stand weeping,
+Flocks all sleeping,
+Nymphs back peeping
+  Fearfully.
+All our pleasure known to us poor swains,
+All our merry meetings on the plains,
+All our evening sport from us is fled,
+All our love is lost, for Love is dead.
+Farewell, sweet lass,
+Thy like ne'er was
+  For a sweet content, the cause of all my moan:
+Poor Coridon
+Must live alone,
+Other help for him I see that there is none.
+
+
+IV.
+
+When as thine eye hath chose the dame,
+And stall'd the deer that thou shouldst strike,
+Let reason rule things worthy blame,
+As well as fancy partial might:
+  Take counsel of some wiser head,
+  Neither too young, nor yet unwed.
+
+And when thou com'st thy tale to tell,
+Smooth not thy tongue with filed talk,
+Lest she some subtle practice smell,
+(A cripple soon can find a halt:)
+  But plainly say thou lov'st her well,
+  And set thy person forth to sell.
+
+What though her frowning brows be bent,
+Her cloudy looks will calm ere night;
+And then too late she will repent,
+That thus dissembled her delight;
+  And twice desire, ere it be day,
+  That which with scorn she put away.
+
+What though she strive to try her strength,
+And ban and brawl, and say thee nay,
+Her feeble force will yield at length,
+When craft hath taught her thus to say:
+ 'Had women been so strong as men,
+ In faith, you had not had it then.'
+
+And to her will frame all thy ways;
+Spare not to spend,--and chiefly there
+Where thy desert may merit praise,
+By ringing in thy lady's ear:
+  The strongest castle, tower, and town,
+  The golden bullet beats it down.
+
+Serve always with assured trust,
+And in thy suit be humble, true;
+Unless thy lady prove unjust,
+Press never thou to choose anew:
+  When time shall serve, be thou not slack
+  To proffer, though she put thee back.
+
+The wiles and guiles that women work,
+Dissembled with an outward show,
+The tricks and toys that in them lurk,
+The cock that treads them shall not know.
+  Have you not heard it said full oft,
+  A woman's nay doth stand for naught?
+
+Think women still to strive with men,
+To sin, and never for to saint:
+There is no heaven, by holy then,
+When time with age doth them attaint.
+  Were kisses all the joys in bed,
+  One woman would another wed.
+
+But, soft! enough,--too much, I fear;
+Lest that my mistress hear my song;
+She'll not stick to round me i' the ear,
+To teach my tongue to be so long:
+  Yet will she blush, here be it said,
+  To hear her secrets so bewray'd.
+
+
+V.
+
+Live with me, and be my love,
+And we will all the pleasures prove,
+That hills and valleys, dales and fields,
+And all the craggy mountains yields.
+
+There will we sit upon the rocks,
+And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
+By shallow rivers, by whose falls
+Melodious birds sing madrigals.
+
+There will I make thee a bed of roses,
+With a thousand fragrant posies,
+A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
+Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle.
+
+A belt of straw and ivy buds,
+With coral clasps and amber studs;
+And if these pleasures may thee move,
+Then live with me and be my love.
+
+     LOVE'S ANSWER.
+
+If that the world and love were young,
+And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
+These pretty pleasures might me move
+To live with thee and be thy love.
+
+
+VI.
+
+As it fell upon a day
+In the merry month of May,
+Sitting in a pleasant shade
+Which a grove of myrtles made,
+Beasts did leap, and birds did sing,
+Trees did grow, and plants did spring;
+Everything did banish moan,
+Save the nightingale alone:
+She, poor bird, as all forlorn,
+Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn,
+And there sung the dolefull'st ditty,
+That to hear it was great pity:
+Fie, fie, fie, now would she cry;
+Teru, teru, by and by:
+That to hear her so complain,
+Scarce I could from tears refrain;
+For her griefs, so lively shown,
+Made me think upon mine own.
+Ah, thought I, thou mourn'st in vain;
+None take pity on thy pain:
+Senseless trees, they cannot hear thee;
+Ruthless bears, they will not cheer thee.
+King Pandion, he is dead;
+All thy friends are lapp'd in lead;
+All thy fellow-birds do sing,
+Careless of thy sorrowing.
+Even so, poor bird, like thee,
+None alive will pity me.
+Whilst as fickle fortune smil'd,
+Thou and I were both beguil'd.
+Every one that flatters thee
+Is no friend in misery.
+Words are easy like the wind;
+Faithful friends are hard to find.
+Every man will be thy friend,
+Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend;
+But if store of crowns be scant,
+No man will supply thy want.
+If that one be prodigal,
+Bountiful they will him call:
+And with such-like flattering,
+'Pity but he were a king.'
+If he be addict to vice,
+Quickly him they will entice;
+If to women he be bent,
+They have at commandement:
+But if fortune once do frown,
+Then farewell his great renown:
+They that fawn'd on him before,
+Use his company no more.
+He that is thy frend indeed,
+He will help thee in thy need;
+If thou sorrow, he will weep;
+If thou wake, he cannot sleep:
+Thus of every grief in heart
+He with thee doth bear a part.
+These are certain signs to know
+Faithful friend from flattering foe.
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg15618.txt

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+
+
+
+E-text prepared by Jason Isbell, Ben Beasley, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which
+      includes the original illustrations and sound files of the music.
+      See 15618-h.htm or 15618-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/6/1/15618/15618-h/15618-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/6/1/15618/15618-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+THE LOVING BALLAD OF LORD BATEMAN.
+
+ILLUSTRATED BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.
+
+London
+Charles Tilt, Fleet Street
+and Mustapha Syried, Constantinople
+
+MDCCCXXXIX
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Warning to the Public
+
+CONCERNING
+
+THE LOVING BALLAD OF LORD BATEMAN.
+
+
+In some collection of old English Ballads there is an ancient ditty which
+I am told bears some remote and distant resemblance to the following Epic
+Poem. I beg to quote the emphatic language of my estimable friend (if he
+will allow me to call him so), the Black Bear in Piccadilly, and to assure
+all to whom these presents may come, that "_I_ am the original." This
+affecting legend is given in the following pages precisely as I have
+frequently heard it sung on Saturday nights, outside a house of general
+refreshment (familiarly termed a wine vaults) at Battle-bridge. The singer
+is a young gentleman who can scarcely have numbered nineteen summers,
+and who before his last visit to the treadmill, where he was erroneously
+incarcerated for six months as a vagrant (being unfortunately mistaken
+for another gentleman), had a very melodious and plaintive tone of voice,
+which, though it is now somewhat impaired by gruel and such a getting up
+stairs for so long a period, I hope shortly to find restored. I have taken
+down the words from his own mouth at different periods, and have been
+careful to preserve his pronunciation, together with the air to which he
+does so much justice. Of his execution of it, however, and the intense
+melancholy which he communicates to such passages of the song as are most
+susceptible of such an expression, I am unfortunately unable to convey to
+the reader an adequate idea, though I may hint that the effect seems to me
+to be in part produced by the long and mournful drawl on the last two or
+three words of each verse.
+
+I had intended to have dedicated my imperfect illustrations of this
+beautiful Romance to the young gentleman in question. As I cannot find,
+however, that he is known among his friends by any other name than
+"The Tripe-skewer," which I cannot but consider as a _soubriquet_, or
+nick-name; and as I feel that it would be neither respectful nor proper
+to address him publicly by that title, I have been compelled to forego the
+pleasure. If this should meet his eye, will he pardon my humble attempt to
+embellish with the pencil the sweet ideas to which he gives such feeling
+utterance? And will he believe me to remain his devoted admirer,
+
+                              GEORGE CRUIKSHANK?
+
+P.S.--The above is not my writing, nor the notes either, nor am I on
+familiar terms (but quite the contrary) with the Black Bear. Nevertheless
+I admit the accuracy of the statement relative to the public singer whose
+name is unknown, and concur generally in the sentiments above expressed
+relative to him.
+
+[Illustration: (signature: George Cruikshank)]
+
+[Illustration: Musical Score]
+
+
+
+
+The Loving Ballad Of Lord Bateman.
+
+
+    I.
+
+    Lord Bateman vos a noble Lord,
+      A noble Lord of high degree;
+    He shipped his-self all aboard of a ship,
+      Some foreign country for to see.[1]
+
+For the notes to this beautiful Poem, see the end of the work.
+
+[Illustration: Lord Bateman as he appeared previous to his embarkation.]
+
+[Illustration: The Turk's only daughter approaches to mitigate the
+sufferings of Lord Bateman!--]
+
+    II.
+
+    He sail-ed east, he sail-ed vest,
+      Until he come to famed Tur-key,
+    Vere he vos taken, and put to prisin,
+      Until his life was quite wea-ry.
+
+
+    III.
+
+    All in this prisin there grew a tree,
+      O! there it grew so stout and strong,
+    Vere he vos chain-ed all by the middle
+      Until his life vos almost gone.
+
+[Illustration: The Turk's daughter expresses a wish as Lord Bateman was
+hers.]
+
+    IV.
+
+    This Turk[2] he had one ounly darter,
+      The fairest my two eyes e'er see,
+    She steele the keys of her father's prisin,
+      And swore Lord Bateman she would let go free.
+
+
+    V.
+
+    O she took him to her father's cellar,
+      And guv to him the best of vine;
+    And ev'ry holth she dronk unto him,
+      Vos, "I vish Lord Bateman as you vos mine!"[3]
+
+[Illustration: The "WOW."]
+
+    VI.
+
+    "O have you got houses, have you got land,
+      And does Northumberland belong to thee?
+    And what would you give to the fair young lady
+      As out of prisin would let you go free?"
+
+
+    VII.
+
+    "O I've got houses, and I've got land,
+      And half Northumberland belongs to me;
+    And I vill give it all to the fair young lady
+      As out of prisin vould let me go free."
+
+[Illustration: The Turk's daughter, bidding his Lordship farewell, is
+impressed with a foreboding that she will see him no more!--]
+
+    VIII.
+
+    "O in sevin long years, I'll make a wow
+      For sevin long years, and keep it strong,[4]
+    That if you'll ved no other voman,
+     O I vill v-e-ed no other man."
+
+
+    IX.
+
+    O She took him to her father's harbour,
+      And guv to him a ship of fame,
+    Saying, "Farevell, Farevell to you, Lord Bateman,
+      I fear I ne-e-ever shall see you agen."
+
+[Illustration: The Proud young Porter answers the door--]
+
+    X.
+
+    Now sevin long years is gone and past,
+      And fourteen days vell known to me;[5]
+    She packed up all her gay clouthing,
+      And swore Lord Bateman she would go see.
+
+
+    XI.
+
+    O ven she arrived at Lord Bateman's castle,
+      How bouldly then she rang the bell,
+    "Who's there! who's there!" cries the proud young porter,
+      "O come, unto me pray quickly tell."
+
+[Illustration: The Proud young Porter in Lord Bateman's State Apartment]
+
+    XII.
+
+    "O! is this here Lord Bateman's castle,
+      And is his lordship here vithin?"
+    "O Yes! O yes!" cries the proud young porter;
+      "He's just now takin' his young bride in."
+
+
+    XIII.
+
+    "O! bid him to send me a slice of bread,
+      And a bottle of the wery best vine,
+    And not forgettin' the fair young lady
+      As did release him ven close confine."
+
+[Illustration: The young bride's Mother is heard (for the first time) to
+speak freely]
+
+    XIV.
+
+    O! avay and avay vent this proud young porter,
+      O! avay and avay and avay vent he,[6]
+    Until he come to Lord Bateman's charmber,
+      Ven he vent down on his bended knee.
+
+
+    XV.
+
+    "Vot news, vot news, my proud young porter,[7]
+      Vot news, vot news, come tell to me?"
+    "O there is the fairest young lady
+      As ever my two eyes did see.
+
+[Illustration: The young bride comes on a horse and saddle]
+
+    XVI.
+
+    "She has got rings on ev'ry finger,
+      And on one finger she has got three:
+    Vith as much gay gould about her middle
+      As would buy half Northumberlee.
+
+
+    XVII.
+
+    "O she bids you to send her a slice of bread
+      And a bottle of the wery best vine,
+    And not forgettin' the fair young lady
+      As did release you ven close confine."
+
+[Illustration:--And goes home in a coach and three----]
+
+    XVIII.
+
+    Lord Bateman then in passion flew,
+      And broke his sword in splinters three,[8]
+    Saying, "I vill give half my father's land
+      If so be as Sophia[9] has crossed the sea."
+
+
+    XIX.
+
+    Then up and spoke this young bride's mother,
+      Who never vos heerd to speak so free:[10]
+    Sayin, "You'll not forget my ounly darter,
+      If so be as Sophia has crossed the sea."
+
+[Illustration: Lord Bateman, his other bride, and his favorite domestic,
+with all their hearts so full of glee.]
+
+    XX.
+
+    "O it's true I made a bride of your darter,
+      But she's neither the better nor the vorse for me;
+    She came to me with a horse and saddle,
+      But she may go home in a coach and three."
+
+
+    XXI.
+
+    Lord Bateman then prepared another marriage,
+      With both their hearts so full of glee,
+    Saying, "I vill roam no more to foreign countries
+      Now that Sophia has crossed the sea."[11]
+
+
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+NOTES.
+
+
+[Footnote 1:
+
+    _Some foreign country for to see._
+
+The reader is here in six words artfully made acquainted with Lord
+Bateman's character and temperament.--Of a roving, wandering, and unsettled
+spirit, his Lordship left his native country, bound he knew not whither.
+_Some_ foreign country he wished to see, and that was the extent of his
+desire; any foreign country would answer his purpose--all foreign countries
+were alike to him. He was a citizen of the world, and upon the world of
+waters, sustained by the daring and reckless impulses of his heart, he
+boldly launched. For anything, from pitch-and-toss upwards to manslaughter,
+his Lordship was prepared. Lord Bateman's character at this time, and his
+expedition, would appear to Have borne a striking resemblance to those of
+Lord Byron.
+
+    His goblets brimmed with every costly wine,
+    And all that mote to luxury invite.
+    Without a sigh he left to cross the brine,
+    And traverse Paynim shores, and pass earth's central line.
+
+CHILDE HAROLD, CANTO I.]
+
+[Footnote 2:
+
+    _This Turk he had, &c._
+
+The poet has here, by that bold license which only genius can venture upon,
+surmounted the extreme difficulty of introducing any particular Turk, by
+assuming a fore-gone conclusion in the reader's mind, and adverting in a
+casual, careless way to a Turk unknown, as to an old acquaintance. "_This_
+Turk he had--" We have heard of no Turk before, and yet this familiar
+introduction satisfies us at once that we know him well. He was a pirate,
+no doubt, of a cruel and savage disposition, entertaining a hatred of the
+Christian race, and accustomed to garnish his trees and vines with such
+stray professors of Christianity as happened to fall into his hands. "This
+Turk he had--" is a master-stroke--a truly Shakspearian touch. There are
+few things like it in the language.]
+
+[Footnote 3:
+
+    _And every holth she drunk unto him
+    Vos, "I vish Lord Bateman as you vos mine!"_
+
+A most affecting illustration of the sweetest simplicity, the purest
+artlessness, and holiest affections of woman's gentle nature. Bred up among
+the rough and savage crowds which thronged her father's lawless halls, and
+meeting with no responsive or kindred spirit among those fierce barbarians
+(many of whom, however, touched by her surpassing charms, though insensible
+to her virtues and mental endowments, had vainly sought her hand in
+marriage), this young creature had spent the greater part of her life in
+the solitude of her own apartments, or in contemplating the charms of
+nature arrayed in all the luxury of eastern voluptuousness. At length she
+hears from an aged and garrulous attendant, her only female adviser (for
+her mother died when she was yet an infant), of the sorrows and sufferings
+of the Christian captive. Urged by pity and womanly sympathy, she repairs
+to his prison to succour and console him. She supports his feeble and
+tottering steps to her father's cellar, recruits his exhausted frame with
+copious draughts of sparkling wine, and when his dim eye brightens, and his
+pale cheek becomes flushed with the glow of returning health and animation,
+she--unaccustomed to disguise or concealment, and being by nature all
+openness and truth--gives vent to the feelings which now thrill her maiden
+heart for the first time, in the rich gush of unspeakable love, tenderness,
+and devotion--
+
+    I vish Lord Bateman as you vos mine!]
+
+[Footnote 4:
+
+    _Oh, in sevin long years I'll make a wow,
+    I'll make a wow, and I'll keep it strong_.
+
+Love has converted the tender girl into a majestic heroine; she cannot only
+make "a wow," but she can "keep it strong;" she feels all the dignity of
+truth and love swelling in her bosom. With the view of possessing herself
+of the real state of Lord Bateman's affections, and with no sordid or
+mercenary motives, she has enquired of that nobleman what are his means of
+subsistence, and whether _all_ Northumberland belongs to him. His Lordship
+has rejoined, with a noble regard for truth, that _half_ Northumberland is
+his, and that he will give it freely to the fair young lady who will
+release him from his dungeon. She, being thus assured of his regard and
+esteem, rejects all idea of pecuniary reward, and offers to be a party to a
+solemn wow--to be kept strong on both sides--that, if for seven years he
+will remain a bachelor, she, for the like period, will remain a maid. The
+contract is made, and the lovers are solemnly contracted.]
+
+[Footnote 5:
+
+    _Now sevin long years is gone and past,
+    And fourteen days vell known to me._
+
+In this may be recognised, though in a minor degree, the same gifted hand
+that portrayed the Mussulman, the pirate, the father, and the bigot, in two
+words. The time is gone, the historian knows it, and that is enough for the
+reader. This is the dignity of history very strikingly exemplified.]
+
+[Footnote 6:
+
+    _Avay and avay vent this proud young porter,
+    Avay and avay and avay vent he._
+
+Nothing perhaps could be more ingeniously contrived to express the vastness
+of Lord Bateman's family mansion than this remarkable passage. The proud
+young porter had to thread courts, corridors, galleries, and staircases
+innumerable, before he could penetrate to those exquisite apartments in
+which Lord Bateman was wont to solace his leisure hours, with the most
+refined pleasures of his time. We behold him hastening to the presence of
+his lord: the repetition of the word "avay" causes us to feel the speed
+with which he hastens--at length he arrives. Does he appear before the
+chief with indecent haste? Is he described as rushing madly into his
+presence to impart his message? No! a different atmosphere surrounds that
+remarkable man. Even this proud young porter is checked in his impetuous
+career which lasted only
+
+    _Until_ he came to Lord Bateman's chamber,
+    Vere he vent down on his bended knee.
+
+Lord Bateman's eye is upon him, and he quails.]
+
+[Footnote 7:
+
+    _Vot news! vot news! my proud young porter?_
+
+A pleasant condescension on the part of his lordship, showing that he
+recognised the stately youth, and no less stately pride of office which
+characterized his follower, and that he was acquainted with the
+distinguishing appellation which he appears to have borne in the family.]
+
+[Footnote 8:
+
+    _And broke his sword in splinters three._
+
+Exemplifying, in a highly poetical and striking manner, the force of Lord
+Bateman's love, which he would seem to have kept strong as his "wow." We
+have beheld him patient in confinement, descending to no base murmurings
+against fortune, even when chained by the middle to a tree, with the
+prospect of ending his days in that ignominious and unpleasant position. He
+has borne all this and a great deal more, seven years and a fortnight have
+elapsed, and, at last, on the mere mention of the fair young lady, he falls
+into a perfect phrenzy, and breaks his sword, the faithful partner and
+companion of his glory, into three splinters. Antiquarians differ
+respecting the intent and meaning of this ceremony, which has been
+construed and interpreted in many different ways. The strong probability is
+that it was done "for luck;" and yet Lord Bateman should have been superior
+to the prejudices of the vulgar.]
+
+[Footnote 9:
+
+    _If my own Sophia._
+
+So called doubtless from the mosque of St. Sophia, at Constantinople; her
+father having professed the Mahomedan religion.]
+
+[Footnote 10:
+
+    _Then up and spoke this young bride's mother,
+    Who never vos heerd to speak so free._
+
+This is an exquisite touch of nature, which most married men, whether of
+noble or plebeian blood, will quickly recognise. During the whole of her
+daughter's courtship, the good old lady had scarcely spoken, save by
+expressive smiles and looks of approval. But now that her object is gained,
+and her daughter fast married (as she thinks), she suddenly assumes quite a
+new tone, "and never was heerd to speak so free." It would be difficult for
+poetry to comprehend any thing more strictly true and life-like than this.]
+
+[Footnote 11:
+
+    _With both their hearts so full of glee._
+
+If any thing could add to the grace and beauty of the poem, it would be
+this most satisfactory and agreeable conclusion. At the time of the foreign
+lady's arrival on the shores of England, we find Lord Bateman in the
+disagreeable dilemma of having contracted another marriage; to which step
+his lordship has doubtless been impelled by despair of ever recovering his
+lost Sophia, and a natural anxiety not to die without leaving an heir to
+his estate. The ceremony has been performed, the Church has done its
+office, the bride and her mamma have taken possession of the castle, when
+the lost Sophia suddenly presents herself. An ordinary man would have been
+overwhelmed by such a complication of perplexities--not so Lord Bateman.
+Master of the human heart, he appeals to feminine ambition and love of
+display; and, reminding the young lady that she came to him on a saddle
+horse (with her revered parent following no doubt on foot behind), offers
+to bestow upon her a coach and three. The young lady closes with the
+proposition; her august mother, having brought it about by her freedom of
+speech, makes no objection; Lord Bateman, being a nobleman of great power,
+and having plenty of superfluous wealth to bestow upon the Church, orders
+another marriage, and boldly declares the first one to be a nullity.
+Thereupon "another marriage" is immediately prepared, and the piece closes
+with a picture of general happiness and hilarity.]
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg1593.txt

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+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Garcia, David Newman and James Rose
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration:
+  Nature Series No. 23.
+  How To Tell The Birds
+  From The Flowers.]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+How To Tell The Birds From The Flowers.
+
+A Manual of Flornithology for Beginners.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Verses and Illustrations
+  By Robert Williams Wood.
+
+  Published by Paul Elder and Company
+  San Francisco and New York.
+
+
+
+
+  Copyright 1907
+  By
+  Paul Elder and Company
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Contents.
+
+
+                                                      Page.
+  The Bird. The Burdock.                                1.
+  The Clover. The Plover.                               2.
+  The Crow. The Crocus.                                 3.
+  The Rue. The Rooster.                                 4.
+  The Parrot. The Carrot.                               5.
+  The Pea. The Pewee.                                   6.
+  The Pelican. The Panicle.                             7.
+  The Hen. The Lichen.                                  8.
+  The Hawk. The Hollyhock.                              9.
+  The Cow Bird. The Cowslip.                           10.
+  A Sparrer. Asparagus.                                11.
+  The Tern. The Turnip.                                12.
+  The Ole Gander. The Oleander.                        14.
+  The Blue Mountain Lory. The Blue Morning Glory.      15.
+  The Quail. The Kale.                                 16.
+  The Pecan. The Toucan.                               17.
+  The Auk. The Orchid.                                 18.
+  The Cat-bird. The Catnip.                            20.
+  The Ibis. The 'Ibiscus.                              21.
+  The Butter-ball. The Buttercup.                      22.
+  The Bay. The Jay.                                    23.
+  The Pipe. The Snipe.                                 24.
+  The Roc. The Shamrock.                               25.
+  The Lark. The Larkspur.                              26.
+  The Puffin. Nuffin.                                  27.
+
+  Author's Apology.                                    28.
+
+
+
+
+Burr. Bird.
+
+[Illustration: Burr. Bird.]
+
+The Bird and the Burdock.
+
+
+  Who _is_ there who has never heard,
+  About the Burdock and the Bird?
+  And yet how _very very_ few,
+  Discriminate between the two,
+  While even Mr. Burbank can't
+  Transform a Bird into a Plant!
+
+[Illustration: Burbank.]
+
+
+
+
+The Clover. The Plover.
+
+[Illustration: The Clover. The Plover.]
+
+
+  The Plover and the Clover can be told apart with ease,
+  By paying close attention to the habits of the Bees,
+  For en-to-molo-gists aver, the Bee can be in Clover,
+  While ety-molo-gists concur, there is no B in Plover.
+
+
+
+
+The Crow. The Crocus.
+
+[Illustration: The Crow. The Crocus.]
+
+
+  Some are unable, as you know,
+  To tell the Crocus from the Crow;
+  The reason why is just because
+  They are not versed in Nature's laws.
+  The noisy, cawing Crows all come,
+  Obedient to the Cro'custom,
+  A large Crow Caw-cus to convoke.
+  You _never_ hear the Crocus croak!
+
+
+
+
+The Rue. The Rooster.
+
+[Illustration: The Rue. The Rooster.]
+
+
+  Of Rooster the rudiment clearly is "_Roo_",
+  And the bird from the plant very probably grew.
+  You can easily tell them apart without fail,
+  By merely observing the Rue lacks de-tail.
+
+
+
+
+The Parrot. The Carrot.
+
+[Illustration: The Parrot. The Carrot.]
+
+
+  The Parrot and the Carrot we may easily confound,
+  They're very much alike in looks and similar in sound,
+  We recognize the Parrot by his clear articulation,
+  For Carrots are unable to engage in conversation.
+
+
+
+
+The Pea. The Pewee.
+
+[Illustration: The Pea. The Pewee.]
+
+
+  To tell the Pewee from the Pea,
+  Requires great per-spi-ca-city.
+  Here in the pod we see the Pea,
+  While perched close by is the Pewee;
+  The Pea he hears the Pewee peep,
+  While Pewee sees the wee Pea weep,
+  There'll be but little time to see,
+  How Pewee differs from the Pea.
+
+
+
+
+The Pelican. The Panicle.
+
+[Illustration: The Pelican. The Panicle.]
+
+
+    The Panicle and Pelican
+  Have often been confused;
+  The letters which spell Pelican
+    In Panicle are used.
+  You never need confound the two,
+    There are many ways of telling:
+  The simplest thing that one can do,
+    Is to observe the spelling.
+
+
+
+
+The Hen. The Lichen.
+
+[Illustration: The Hen. The Lichen.]
+
+
+  The Lichens lie on rocks and bark,
+  They look somewhat like Hens:
+  Hens _lay_, they _lie_, we may remark,
+  A difference of tense.
+
+
+
+
+The Hawk. The Hollyhock.
+
+[Illustration: The Hawk. The Hollyhock.]
+
+
+  To recognize this Bird-of-Prey,
+  The broody Hen you should survey:
+  She takes her Chicks on daily walks,
+  Among the neighboring Hollyhocks,
+  While with the Hawk association,
+  Is quite beyond her toleration.
+
+
+
+
+The Cow Bird. The Cowslip.
+
+[Illustration: The Cow Bird. The Cowslip.]
+
+
+  Growing in mires, in gold attired,
+  The Cowslip has been much admired,
+  Altho' its proper name, we're told,
+  Is really the Marsh Marigold:
+  The Cow Bird picture, I suspect,
+  Is absolutely incorrect,
+  We make such errors now and then,
+  A sort of cow slip of the pen.
+
+
+
+
+A Sparrer. Asparagus.
+
+[Illustration: A Sparrer. Asparagus.]
+
+
+  The Sparrow, from flying, is quite out of breath,
+  In fact he has worked himself almost to death,
+  While the lazy Asparagus,--so it is said,--
+  Spends all of his time in the 'sparagus bed.
+
+
+
+
+The Tern. The Turnip.
+
+[Illustration: The Tern. The Turnip.]
+
+
+  To tell the Turnip from the Tern,
+  A thing which everyone should learn,
+  Observe the Tern up in the air,
+  See how he turns,--and now compare
+  Him with this inert vegetable,
+  Who thus to turn is quite unable,
+  For he is rooted to the spot,
+  While as we see the Tern is not:
+  He is not always doomed to be
+  Thus bound to earth e-_tern_-ally,
+  For "Cooked to a turn" may be inferred,
+  To change the Turnip to the Bird.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Observe the Turnip in the pot.
+  The Tern is glad that he is not!
+
+
+
+
+The Ole Gander. The Oleander.
+
+[Illustration: The Ole Gander. The Oleander.]
+
+
+  The Gander loves to promenade,
+  Around the farmer's poultry-yard,
+  While, as we see, the Oleander
+  Is quite unable to meander.
+
+
+
+
+The Blue Mountain Lory. The Blue Morning Glory.
+
+[Illustration: The Blue Mountain Lory. The Blue Morning Glory.]
+
+
+  The Blue Mountain Lory spends most of his time
+  In climbing about in a tropical clime;
+  We therefore our efforts need only confine,
+  To minutely observing the climb of the Vine.
+
+
+
+
+The Quail. The Kale.
+
+[Illustration: The Quail. The Kale.]
+
+
+  The California Quail is said
+  To have a tail upon his head,
+  While contrary-wise we style the Kale,
+  A cabbage head upon a tail.
+  It is not hard to tell the two,
+  The Quail commences with a queue.
+
+
+
+
+The Pecan. The Toucan.
+
+[Illustration: The Pecan. The Toucan.]
+
+
+      Very few can
+      Tell the Toucan
+      From the Pecan--
+      Here's a new plan:
+  To take the Toucan from the tree,
+  Requires im-mense a-gil-i-tee,
+  While _any one_ can pick with ease
+  The Pecans from the Pecan trees:
+  It's such an easy thing to do,
+  That even the Toucan he can too.
+
+
+
+
+The Auk. The Orchid.
+
+[Illustration: The Auk. The Orchid.]
+
+
+  We seldom meet, when out to walk,
+  Either the Orchid or the Auk;
+  The Auk indeed is only known
+  To dwellers in the Auktic zone,
+  While Orchids can be found in legions,
+  Within the equatorial regions.
+  The graceful Orchid on its stalk,
+  Resembles so the auk-ward Auk;
+  'T is plain we must some means discover,
+  To tell the two from one another:
+  The obvious difference, to be sure,
+  Is merely one of temperature.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  For Eskimos, perhaps, the Auk
+  Performs the duties of the Stork.
+
+
+
+
+The Cat-bird. The Cat-nip.
+
+[Illustration: The Cat-bird. The Cat-nip.]
+
+
+  The Cat-bird's call resembles that,
+  Emitted by the Pussy Cat,
+  While Cat-nip, growing by the wall,
+  Is never known to caterwaul:
+  Its odor though attracts the Kits,
+  And throws them in Catniption fits.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+The Ibis. The 'Ibiscus.
+
+[Illustration: The Ibis. The 'Ibiscus.]
+
+
+  The sacred Ibis tells his beads,
+  And gravely from his prayer-book reads;
+  The Ibis therfore we may say,
+  Is classified a bird-of-prey.
+  'Ibiscus we have heard related,
+  The "Crimson-Eye" is designated;
+  Their difference is plain indeed,
+  The flower is red, the bird can read.
+
+
+
+
+The Butter-ball. The Butter-cup.
+
+[Illustration: The Butter-ball. The Butter-cup.]
+
+
+  The little Butter-cup can sing,
+  From morn 'till night like anything:
+  The quacking of the Butter-ball,
+  Cannot be called a song at all.
+  We thus the flower may learn to know,
+  Its song is reproduced below.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+The Bay. The Jay.
+
+[Illustration: The Bay. The Jay.]
+
+
+  The Blue-Jay, as we plainly see,
+  Resembles much the green Bay tree:
+  The difference between the two,
+  Is ob-vi-ous-ly one of hue.
+  Though this is not the only way,
+  To tell the Blue-Jay from the Bay.
+
+
+
+
+The Pipe. The Snipe.
+
+[Illustration: The Pipe. The Snipe.]
+
+
+  Observe the common Indian Pipe,
+  Likewise the high-bred English Snipe,
+  Who is distinguished, as we see,
+  By his superior pedigree.
+
+
+[Illustration:
+  Two crosses botonny
+  bend sinister.]
+
+[Illustration:
+  Fess argent
+  mantlets sable.]
+
+
+
+
+The Roc. The Shamrock.
+
+[Illustration: The Roc. The Shamrock.]
+
+
+  Observe how peacefully the Cows
+  Among the little Shamrocks browse,
+  In contrast with their actions frantic
+  When they perceive the Roc gigantic;
+  We need but watch thei_r oc_upation,
+  And seek no other explanation.
+
+
+
+
+The Lark. The Larkspur.
+
+[Illustration: The Lark. The Larkspur.]
+
+
+  The Larkspur's likeness to the Lark
+  Is surely worthy of remark,
+  Although to see it we require
+  The aid of a small magnifier,
+  Which circumstance of course implies,
+  Their difference is one of size.
+
+
+
+
+Puffin. Nuffin.
+
+[Illustration: Puffin. Nuffin.]
+
+
+  Upon this cake of ice is perched,
+  The paddle-footed Puffin:
+  To find his double we have searched,
+  But have discovered--Nuffin!
+
+
+
+
+Author's Apology.
+
+
+  Not every one is always able
+  To recognize a vegetable,
+  For some are guided by tradition,
+  While others use their intuition,
+  And even I make no pretense
+  Of having more than common sense;
+  Indeed these strange homologies
+  Are in most flornithologies,
+  And I have freely drawn upon
+  The works of Gray and Audubon,
+  Avoiding though the frequent blunders
+  Of those who study Nature's wonders.
+
+
+[Illustration: (Back Cover)]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg16637.txt

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+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Pat Saumell and Chuck Greif
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+SLEEP-BOOK
+
+SOME OF THE POETRY OF SLUMBER
+
+COLLECTED BY
+
+LEOLYN LOUISE EVERETT
+
+NEW YORK
+
+THE WATKINS COMPANY
+
+1910
+
+Three hundred and twenty copies of this book have been printed on
+hand-made Van Gelder paper, for The Watkins Company, at the press of
+Styles & Cash New York, and type distributed.
+
+This book is No.
+
+To
+
+ETHEL DU FRE HOUSTON
+
+who has brought the joy and beauty of dream into so many lives
+
+
+
+
+    SLEEP-BOOK
+
+
+
+
+    I.
+
+    Peace, peace, thou over-anxious, foolish heart,
+    Rest, ever-seeking soul, calm, mad desires,
+    Quiet, wild dreams--this is the time of sleep.
+    Hold her more close than life itself. Forget
+    All the excitements of the day, forget
+    All problems and discomforts. Let the night
+    Take you unto herself, her blessed self.
+    Peace, peace, thou over-anxious, foolish heart,
+    Rest, ever-seeking soul, calm, mad desires,
+    Quiet, wild dreams--this is the time of sleep.
+
+    _Leolyn Louise Everett_.
+
+
+
+
+    II.
+
+    Sleep, softly-breathing god! his downy wing
+    Was fluttering now.
+
+    _Samuel T. Coleridge_.
+
+
+    I lay in slumber's shadowy vale
+
+    _Samuel T. Coleridge_.
+
+
+
+
+    III.
+
+    And more to lulle him in his slumber soft,
+    A trickling stream from high rock tumbling down
+    And ever-drizzling raine upon the loft,
+    Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sowne
+    Of swarming Bees, did cast him in a swowne.
+    No other noyse, nor peoples troublous cryes,
+    As still are wont t'annoy the walled towne,
+    Might there be heard; but carelesse Quiet lyes
+    Wrapt in eternal! silence farre from enimyes.
+
+    _Edmund Spenser_.
+
+
+
+
+    IV.
+
+    The waters murmuring,
+    With such cohort as they keep
+    Entice the dewy-feathered Sleep.
+    _Il Penseroso_.
+
+    _John Milton_.
+
+
+
+
+    V.
+    Ye spotted snakes with double tongue,
+     Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;
+    Newts and blind-worms do no wrong,
+     Come not near our fairy queen.
+      Philomel, with melody
+      Sing in our sweet lullaby,
+    Lulla, lulla, lullaby, lulla, lulla, lullaby;
+      Never harm.
+      Nor spell nor charm,
+    Come our lovely lady nigh
+    So goodnight with lullaby.
+
+    _William Shakespeare_.
+
+
+
+
+    VI.
+
+    Sleep, Silence child, sweet father of soft rest,
+    Prince, whose approach peace to all mortals brings,
+    Indifferent host to shepherds and to kings,
+    Sole comforter of minds with grief oppressed;
+    Lo, by thy charming rod all breathing things
+    Lie slumbering, with forgetfulness possessed.
+
+    _William Drummond of Hawthornden_.
+
+
+
+
+    VII.
+
+    Come, Sleep, and with thy sweet deceiving
+     Lock me in delight awhile;
+     Let some pleasing dreams beguile
+     All my fancies; that from thence
+     I may feel an influence,
+    All my powers of care bereaving!
+
+    Though but a shadow, but a sliding
+     Let me know some little joy!
+     We that suffer long annoy
+     Are contented with a thought
+     Through an idle fancy wrought;
+    O let my joys have some abiding!
+
+    _John Fletcher_.
+
+
+
+
+    VIII.
+
+    But still let Silence trew night-watches keepe,
+    That sacred Peace may in assurance rayne,
+    And tymely Sleep, when it is time to sleep,
+    May pour his limbs forth on your pleasant playne;
+    The whiles an hundred little winged loves
+    Like divers-fethered doves,
+    Shall fly and flutter round about your bed.
+
+    _Edmund Spenser_.
+
+
+
+
+    IX.
+
+    Care-charming Sleep, thou easer of all woes,
+    Brother to Death, sweetly thyself dispose
+    On this afflicted prince; fall like a cloud
+    In gentle showers; give nothing that is loud
+    Or painful to his slumbers,--easy, sweet
+    And as a purling stream, thou son of Night,
+    Pass by his troubled senses; sing his pain
+    Like hollow murmuring wind or silver rain,
+    Into this prince gently, oh gently, slide
+    And kiss him into slumbers like a bride.
+
+    _John Fletcher_.
+
+
+
+
+    X.
+
+         God hath set
+    Labor and rest, as day and night, to men
+    Successive, and the timely dew of sleep
+    Now falling with soft, slumberous weight inclines
+    Our eyelids.
+
+    _John Milton_.
+
+
+
+
+    XI.
+
+    Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast'
+    Would I were sleep and peace so sweet to rest
+
+    _William Shakespeare_.
+
+
+         The innocent sleep,
+    Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care, t
+    The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath,
+    Balm of hurt minds, great Nature's second course,
+    Chief nourisher in life's feast.
+
+    _William Shakespeare_.
+
+
+
+
+    XII.
+
+    Come, Sleep. O, Sleep! The certain knot of peace,
+    The baiting place of wit, the balm of woe,
+    The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release,
+    The indifferent judge between the high and low.
+
+    _Sir Philip Sidney_.
+
+
+
+
+
+    XIII.
+
+    Close thine eyes, and sleep secure;
+    Thy soul is safe, thy body sure.
+    He that guards thee, he that keeps,
+    Never slumbers, never sleeps.
+    A quiet conscience in the breast
+    Has only peace, has only rest.
+    The wisest and the mirth of kings
+    Are out of tune unless she sings:
+    Then close thine eyes in peace and sleep secure,
+    No sleep so sweet as thine, no rest so sure.
+
+    _Charles I, King of England_.
+
+
+
+
+    XIV.
+
+         Oh, Brahma, guard in sleep
+    The merry lambs and the complacent kine,
+    The flies below the leaves and the young mice
+    In the tree roots, and all the sacred flocks
+    Of red flamingo; and my love Vijaya,
+    And may no restless fay, with fidget finger
+    Trouble his sleeping; give him dreams of me.
+
+    _William B Yeats_.
+
+
+
+
+    XV.
+
+    Solemnly, mournfully,
+      Dealing its dole,
+    The Curfew Bell
+      Is beginning to toll.
+
+    Cover the embers,
+      And put out the light;
+    Toil comes with morning,
+      And rest with the night.
+
+    Dark grow the windows,
+      And quenched is the fire;
+    Sound fades into silence,--
+      All footsteps retire.
+
+    No voice in the chambers,
+      No sound in the hall!
+    Sleep and oblivion
+      Reign over all!
+
+    _Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_.
+
+
+
+
+    XVI.
+
+    Lull me to sleep, ye winds, whose fitful sound
+    Seems from some faint Aeolian harp-string caught;
+    Seal up the hundred wakeful eyes of thought
+    As Hermes with his lyre in sleep profound
+    The hundred wakeful eyes of Argus bound
+
+    _Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_.
+
+
+
+
+    XVII.
+
+    Our life is twofold: Sleep hath its own world,
+    A boundary between the things mis-named
+    Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world,
+    And a wide realm of wild reality.
+    And dreams in their development have breath,
+    And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy;
+    They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts,
+    They take a weight from off our waking toils.
+    They do divide our being; they become
+    A portion of ourselves as of our time,
+    And look like heralds of eternity;--
+
+    _Lord Byron_.
+
+
+
+
+    XVIII.
+
+    O gentle Sleep! Do they belong to thee,
+    These twinklings of oblivion? Thou dost love
+    To sit in meekness, like the brooding Dove,
+    A captive never wishing to be free.
+
+    _William Wordsworth_.
+
+
+
+
+    XIX.
+
+    O soft embalmer of the still midnight!
+    Shutting, with careful fingers and benign,
+    Our gloom-pleased eyes, embowered from the light,
+    Enshaded in forgetfulness divine;
+    O soothest Sleep! if so it pleases thee, close,
+    In midst of this thine hymn, my willing eyes,
+    Or wait the amen, ere thy poppy throws
+    Around my bed its lulling charities;
+    Then save me, or the passed day will shine
+    Upon my pillow, breeding many woes;
+    Save me from curious conscience, that still lords
+    Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole;
+    Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards,
+    And seal the hushed casket of my soul.
+
+    _John Keats_.
+
+
+
+
+    XX.
+
+    Sleep, that giv'st what Life denies,
+    Shadowy bounties and supreme,
+    Bring the dearest face that flies
+    Following darkness like a dream!
+
+    _Andrew Lang_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXI.
+
+    I have a lady as dear to me
+    As the westward wind and shining sea,
+    As breath of spring to the verdant lea,
+    As lover's songs and young children's glee.
+
+    Swiftly I pace thro' the hours of light,
+    Finding no joy in the sunshine bright,
+    Waiting 'till moon and far stars are white,
+    Awaiting the hours of silent night.
+
+    Swiftly I fly from the day's alarms,
+    Too sudden desires, false joys and harms,
+    Swiftly I fly to my loved one's charms,
+    Praying the clasp of her perfect arms.
+
+    Her eyes are wonderful, dark and deep,
+    Her raven tresses a midnight steep,
+    But, ah, she is hard to hold and keep--
+    My lovely lady, my lady Sleep!
+
+    _Leolyn Louise Everett_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXII.
+
+    Visit her, gentle Sleep! With wings of healing,
+    And may this storm be but a mountain-birth,
+    May all the stars hang bright above her dwelling,
+    Silent as tho' they watched the sleeping Earth!
+    With light heart may she rise,
+    Gay fancy, cheerful eyes,
+    Joy lift her spirit, joy attune her voice.
+
+    _Samuel T. Coleridge_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXIII.
+
+    Sleep! king of gods and men!
+    Come to my call again,
+    Swift over field and fen,
+         Mountain and deep:
+
+    Come, bid the waves be still;
+    Sleep, streams on height and hill;
+    Beasts, birds and snakes, thy will
+         Conquereth, Sleep!
+
+    Come on thy golden wings,
+    Come ere the swallow sings,
+    Lulling all living things,
+         Fly they or creep!
+
+    Come with thy leaden wand,
+    Come with thy kindly hand,
+    Soothing on sea or land
+         Mortals that weep
+
+    Come from the cloudy west,
+    Soft over brain and breast,
+    Bidding the Dragon rest,
+         Come to me, Sleep!
+
+    _Andrew Lang_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXIV.
+
+    Sleep, death without dying--living without life.
+
+    _Edwin Arnold_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXV.
+
+    She sleeps; her breathings are not heard
+      In palace-chambers far apart,
+    The fragrant tresses are not stirr'd
+      That he upon her charmed heart.
+
+    She sleeps; on either hand upswells
+      The gold-fringed pillow lightly prest;
+    She sleeps, nor dreams but ever dwells
+      A perfect form in perfect rest.
+
+    _Alfred Tennyson_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXVI.
+
+    The hours are passing slow,
+      I hear their weary tread
+    Clang from the tower and go
+      Back to their kinsfolk dead.
+    Sleep! death's twin brother dread!
+      Why dost thou scorn me so?
+    The wind's voice overhead
+      Long wakeful here I know,
+    And music from the steep
+      Where waters fall and flow.
+    Wilt thou not hear me, Sleep?
+
+    All sounds that might bestow
+      Rest on the fever'd bed,
+    All slumb'rous sounds and low
+      Are mingled here and wed,
+    And bring no drowsihed.
+      Shy dreams flit to and fro
+    With shadowy hair dispread;
+      With wistful eyes that glow
+    And silent robes that sweep.
+      Thou wilt not hear me; no?
+    Wilt thou not hear me, Sleep?
+
+    What cause hast them to show
+      Of sacrifice unsped?
+    Of all thy slaves below
+      I most have labored
+    With service sung and said;
+      Have cull'd such buds as blow,
+    Soft poppies white and red,
+      Where thy still gardens grow,
+    And Lethe's waters weep.
+      Why, then, art thou my foe?
+    Wilt thou not hear me, Sleep?
+
+    Prince, ere the dark be shred
+      By golden shafts, ere low
+    And long the shadows creep:
+      Lord of the wand of lead,
+    Soft footed as the snow,
+    Wilt thou not hear me, Sleep!
+
+    _Andrew Lang_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXVII.
+
+    I have loved wind and light,
+      And the bright sea,
+    But, holy and most secret Night,
+      Not as I love and have loved thee.
+
+    God, like all highest things,
+      Hides light in shade,
+    And in the night his visitings
+      To sleep and dreams are clearliest made.
+
+    _Arthur Symons_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXVIII.
+
+    The peace of a wandering sky,
+    Silence, only the cry
+    Of the crickets, suddenly still,
+    A bee on the window sill,
+    A bird's wing, rushing and soft,
+    Three flails that tramp in the loft,
+    Summer murmuring
+    Some sweet, slumberous thing,
+    Half asleep:
+
+    _Arthur Symons_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXIX.
+
+    Only a little holiday of sleep,
+    Soft sleep, sweet sleep; a little soothing psalm
+    Of slumber from thy sanctuaries of calm,
+    A little sleep--it matters not how deep;
+    A little falling feather from thy wing,
+    Merciful Lord,--is it so great a thing?
+
+    _Richard Le Gallienne_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXX.
+
+    A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by
+    One after one; the sound of rain, and bees
+    Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas,
+    Smooth fields, white sheets of water and pure sky
+    I have thought of all by turns and yet do lie
+    Sleepless!
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Come, blessed barrier between day and day.
+    Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health!
+
+    _William Wordsworth_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXXI.
+
+    Sleep is a reconciling,
+
+    A rest that peace begets;
+    Does not the sun rise smiling
+    When fair at eve he sets'
+
+    _Anonymous_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXXII.
+
+    The cloud-shadows of midnight possess their own
+      repose,
+    The weary winds are silent or the moon is in the
+      deep;
+    Some respite to its turbulence unresting ocean
+      knows;
+
+    Whatever moves, or toils, or grieves, hath its
+      appointed sleep.
+
+    _Percy Bysshe Shelley_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXXIII.
+
+         We lay
+    Stretched upon fragrant heath and lulled by sound
+    Of far-off torrents charming the still night,
+    To tired limbs and over-busy thoughts
+    Inviting sleep and soft forgetfulness.
+
+    _William Wordsworth_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXXIV.
+
+    There is sweet music here that softer falls
+      Than petals from blown roses on the grass,
+    Or night-dews on still waters between walls
+      Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass;
+    Music that gentlier on the spirit lies
+      Than tired eye-lids upon tired eyes;
+    Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies.
+      Here are cool mosses deep,
+    And thro' the mass the ivies creep,
+      And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep.
+    And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep.
+
+    _Alfred Tennyson_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXXV.
+
+    I went into the deserts of dim sleep--
+    That world which, like an unknown wilderness,
+    Bounds this with its recesses wide and deep
+
+    _Percy Bysshe Shelley_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXXVI.
+
+    Oh, Morpheus, my more than love, my life,
+    Come back to me, come back to me! Hold out
+    Your wonderful, wide arms and gather me
+    Again against your breast. I lay above
+    Your heart and felt its breathing firm and slow
+    As waters that obey the moon and lo,
+    Rest infinite was mine and calm. My soul
+    Is sick for want of you. Oh, Morpheus,
+    Heart of my weary heart, come back to me!
+
+    _Leolyn Louise Everett_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXXVII.
+
+         Lips
+    Parted in slumber, whence the regular breath
+    Of innocent dreams arose.
+
+    _Percy Bysshe Shelley_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXXVIII.
+
+    A late lark twitters in the quiet skies;
+    And from the west,
+    Where the sun, his day's work ended,
+    Lingers in content,
+    There falls on the old, gray city
+    An influence luminous and serene,
+    A shining peace.
+
+    The smoke ascends
+    In a rosy-and-golden haze. The spires
+    Shine, and are changed. In the valley
+    Shadows rise. The lark sings on. The sun,
+    Closing his benediction,
+    Sinks, and the darkening air
+    Thrills with a sense of the triumphing night--
+    Night with her train of stars
+    And her great gift of sleep.
+
+    _William Ernest Henley_.
+
+
+
+
+    XXXIX.
+
+    Oh, Sleep! it is a gentle thing
+    Beloved from pole to pole!
+    To Mary Queen the praise be given!
+    She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven,
+    That slid into my soul.
+
+    _Samuel T. Coleridge_.
+
+
+
+
+    XL.
+
+    What is more gentle than a wind in summer?
+    What is more soothing than the pretty hummer
+    That stays one moment in an open flower,
+    And buzzes cheerily from bower to bower?
+    What is more tranquil than a musk rose blowing
+    In a green island, far from all men's knowing?
+    More healthful than the leanness of dales?
+    More secret than a nest of nightingales?
+    More serene than Cordelia's countenance?
+    More full of visions than a high romance?
+    What, but thee Sleep? Soft closer of our eyes!
+    Low murmurer of tender lullabies!
+    Light hoverer around our happy pillows!
+    Wreather of poppy buds and weeping willows!
+    Silent entangler of a beauty's tresses!
+    Most happy listener! when the morning blesses
+    Thee for enlivening all the cheerful eyes
+    That glance so brightly at the new sun-rise.
+
+    _John Keats_.
+
+
+
+
+    XLI.
+
+    My sleep had been embroidered with dim dreams,
+    My soul had been a lawn besprinkled o'er
+    With flowers, and stirring shades of baffled beams.
+
+    _John Keats_.
+
+
+
+
+    XLII.
+
+    Sleep is a blessed thing. All my long life
+    I have known this, its value infinite
+    To man, its symbol of the perfect peace
+    That marks eternity, its marvellous
+    Relief from all the vanities and wounds,
+    The little battles and unrest of soul
+    That we call life.
+         Sleep is a blessed thing,
+    Doubly it has been taught me. All the time
+    I cannot have you, all the heart-sick days
+    Of utter yearning, of eternal ache
+    Of longing, longing for the sight of you,
+    Fade and dissolve at night and you are mine,
+    At least in dreams, at least in blessed dreams.
+
+    _Leolyn Louise Everett_.
+
+
+
+
+    XLIII.
+
+    Soon, trembling in her soft and chilly nest,
+      In sort of wakeful swoon, perplex'd she lay
+    Until the poppied warmth of sleep oppress'd
+      Her soothed limbs, and soul fatigued away;
+    Flown, like a thought, until the morrow-day,
+      Blissfully haven'd both from joy and pain,
+    Clasp'd like a missal where swart Paynims pray;
+      Blended alike from sunshine and from rain,
+      As though a rose could shut and be a bud again.
+
+    _John Keats_.
+
+
+
+
+    XLIV.
+
+    O magic sleep! O comfortable bird,
+    That broodest o'er the troubled sea of the mind
+    'Till it is hush'd and smooth! O unconfin'd
+    Restraint! imprisoned liberty! great key
+    To golden palaces, strange ministrelsy,
+    Fountains grotesque, new trees, bespangled caves,
+    Echoing grottos, full of tumbling waves
+    And moonlight, aye, to all the mazy world
+    Of silvery enchantment!--who, upfurl'd
+    Beneath thy drowsy wing a triple hour
+    But renovates and lives?
+
+    _John Keats_.
+
+
+
+
+    XLV.
+
+         A sleep
+    Full of sweet dreams and health and quiet breathing.
+
+    _John Keats_.
+
+
+
+
+    XLVI.
+
+    Now is the blackest hour of the long night,
+    The soul of midnight. Now, the pallid stars
+    Shine in the highest silver and the wind
+    That creepeth chill across the sleeping world
+    Holdeth no hint of morning. I look out
+    Into the glory of the night with tired,
+    Wide, sleepless eyes and think of you. There is
+    The hush of some great spirit o'er the earth.
+    Here, in the silence earth and sky are met
+    And merged into infinity. Oh, God
+    Of all, Thou who beholdest Destiny
+    As simple, Thou who understandest life
+    From birth to re-birth, who knows all our souls,
+    Grant her Thy perfect benediction, rest.
+
+    _Leolyn Louise Everett_.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg16770.txt

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+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Alicia Williams, Joshua Hutchinson and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+The Adventures
+of two
+Dutch Dolls
+and a
+"Golliwogg"
+
+
+Pictures By
+[signed] Florence K. Upton
+
+Words By
+Bertha Upton
+
+DeWolfe, Fiske & Co. Boston
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+  'Twas on a frosty Christmas Eve
+  When Peggy Deutchland woke
+       From her wooden sleep
+       On the counter steep
+  And to her neighbour spoke,
+
+  "Get up! get up, dear Sarah Jane!
+  Now strikes the midnight hour,
+       When dolls and toys
+       Taste human joys,
+  And revel in their power.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  I long to try my limbs a bit,
+  And you must walk with me;
+       Our joints are good
+       Though made of wood,
+  And I pine for liberty.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  For twelve long months we've lain in here.
+  But we don't care a fig;
+       When wide awake
+       It does not take
+  Us long to dance a jig.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  But who comes here across our path,
+  In gay attire bedight?
+       A little girl
+       With hair in curl,
+  And eyes so round and bright.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Good evening Miss, how fine you look,
+  Beside you I feel bare;
+       I must confess
+       I need a dress
+  If I would look as fair.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  On that high pole I see a flag
+  With colors red and blue;
+       Dear Sarah Jane
+       'Tis very plain
+  A climb you'll have to do.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  You're young and light--so now be quick
+  Dear sister good and kind;
+       You look dismayed
+       Don't be afraid,
+  It's not so hard you'll find.
+
+  Then up the pole with trembling limbs,
+  Poor Sarah Jane did mount;
+       She dared not lag,
+       But seized the flag,
+  Ere you could twenty count.
+
+  Big Peggy gazed with deep concern,
+  And mouth wide open too;
+       Her only care
+       That she might wear
+  A gown of brilliant hue.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Now Peg' by instinct seemed to know
+  Where scissors might be got;
+       The "fits" were bad,
+       But then she had
+  No patterns on the spot.
+
+  Soon where the garments hurried on;
+  Sarah looked well in blue;
+       Mirror in hand
+       She took her stand,
+  While Peggy pinned her's through.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Said Peggy--"After work so hard,
+  I think a rest we need;
+       Let's take a ride
+       Seated astride
+  Upon this gentle steed."
+
+  Then simple Sarah Jane climbed up
+  Upon his wooden back;
+       With tim'rous heart
+       She felt him start
+  Upon the open track.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Ere long they knew that hidden there,
+  Beneath a stolid mien,
+       Dwelt a fierce will.
+       They could not still
+  They rode as if by steam!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Peggy held on with tightening grip,
+  While Sarah Jane behind,
+       Having no hold
+       To make her bold,
+  To screaming gave her mind.
+
+  "O Peggy! put me down I pray!
+  I ride in mortal dread!
+       Do make him stop,
+       Or I shall drop
+  And break my wooden head!"
+
+  E'en as those piteous words she spoke,
+  They struck a fearful "snag"
+       Their grips they lost,
+       And both were tossed
+  Upon the cruel "flag".
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Their senses for a moment gone,
+  They lay in ghastly plight;
+       Their fiery steed
+       From burden freed,
+  Maintained his onward flight.
+
+  Then each in aching consciousness
+  Rose slowly with sad groans;
+       Next faced about
+       With angry shout,
+  Followed by tears and moans.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Each blamed the other for the fall;
+  Until, in gentler mood,
+       Their hurts they dress,
+       While both confess
+  The crying did them good.
+
+  A wooden crutch poor Peggy finds
+  To help her on her feet;
+       Both solemn-faced
+       Their steps retraced
+  To where they first did meet.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  But sorrow's tears are quickly dried
+  With dolls as well as men.--
+       A jolly crowd
+       All laughing loud
+  (I think you'll count just ten.)
+
+  Mounted a little wooden cart,
+  While Peggy, brave and tried,
+       Got up in front
+       To bear the brunt
+  Of "Hobby's" mighty stride.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Finding a pleasant open space,
+  Gay Peg' unships her load;
+       Suggests a game
+       Which, it is plain,
+  Will soon be quite the "mode."
+
+  She tells of former Christmas nights,
+  When many of her kind,
+       At leap-frog played,
+       And merry made,
+  Fast running like the wind.
+
+  The happy moments swiftly sped
+  In unabated glee;
+       Their lungs were strong,
+       Their legs were long,
+  And supple at the knee.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  But soon they hear the clock strike "two"
+  The hours are flying fast!
+       With much to do
+       Ere night be thro'
+  Its' pleasures overpast!
+
+  "Just one leap more!" cries Sarah Jane,
+  "This fills my wildest dream!"
+       E'en as she spoke,
+       Peg' Deutchland broke
+  Into a piercing scream.
+
+  Then all look round, as well they may
+  To see a horrid sight!
+       The blackest gnome
+       Stands there alone,
+  They scatter in their fright.
+
+  With kindly smile he nearer draws;
+  Begs them to feel no fear.
+       "What is your name?"
+       Cries Sarah Jane;
+  "The 'Golliwogg' my dear."
+
+  Their fears allayed--each takes an arm,
+  While up and down they walk;
+       With sidelong glance
+       Each tries her chance,
+  And charms him with "small talk".
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Another wonder now attracts
+  The simple Sarah Jane;
+       Upon one knee
+       She drops with glee,
+  In case this box contain
+
+  Some pretty thing to give her joy,
+  Some new-discovered treat!
+       Old Peg', who planned
+       The fun in hand,
+  Watches with face discreet.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  The lock unlatched, the lid springs up,
+  Knocks Sarah on her back,
+       With flying hair
+       And trying stare,
+  Out of the box springs "Jack".
+
+  Our naughty Peg' enjoys the scene,
+  Laughs long with fiendish glee;
+       Next takes to flight,
+       Gets out of sight,
+  Fresh tricks to plan you'll see.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Soon Sarah's heart new courage takes,
+  She hits upon a plan;
+       Makes up her mind
+       To run behind
+  And kill the staring man!
+
+  Attempts are vain, he will not die!
+  In terror Sarah flees;
+       Meets a new toy
+       Called "Scissors Boy",
+  And begs him just to please.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  To help her pay bad Peggy back
+  For her malicious tricks;
+       Nor does she see
+       That even he
+  Enjoys her woeful "fix".
+
+  Peg's pious face and peaceful pose
+  You'd think portended fair,
+       When like a flash
+       She makes a dash,
+  Sends Sarah high in air!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Entangled in the "Scissors Boy",
+  Alas! death seems quite near;
+       Her trust betrayed,
+       This hapless maid
+  Sobs out her grief and fear.
+
+  'Twas Peggy's fault the whole way through;
+  The boy had meant no harm.
+       Both ran away,
+       Nor thought to stay
+  Poor Sarah's fright to calm.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  A handsome soldier passing by,
+  His heart quite free from guile,
+       With martial air
+       And manner rare
+  Soon helped the girl to smile.
+
+  He said the Ball would now begin
+  And begged her for a dance;
+       She bowed so low,
+       It looked as tho'
+  Her style had come from France.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  A lively waltz the couple take,
+  While all admire their grace,
+       As round and round
+       Upon the ground
+  They spin with quickened pace.
+
+  And shameless Peg' sits on a chair
+  A true "flower of the wall"
+       While Sarah Jane,
+       Tis very plain,
+  Need never rest at all.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  With graceful compliment the Clown
+  Bows low before the belle,
+       Whose modest face,
+       And simple grace,
+  In starry robe looked well.
+
+  "I know I'm but a stupid Clown,
+  And play a clumsy role;
+       Yet underneath
+       This painted sheath
+  I wear an ardent Soul."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Just then a jovial African
+  With large admiring eyes,
+       Seizes her hand
+       Just as the band
+  To give them a surprise
+
+  Strikes up the "Barn-dance"; like a flash
+  Both spring into their place!
+       Away they go
+       First quick, then slow,
+  Each movement fraught with grace.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  The jolly pair then pause to watch
+  A "Magnate" from Japan,
+       Who quite alone
+       So far from home
+  (Poor harmless little man)
+
+  Dances a curious Eastern dance
+  To many a jingling bell;
+       His brilliant dress,
+       They both confess,
+  Becomes him very well.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  And now the Ball is at its height,
+  A madly whirling throng;
+       Each merry pair
+       A smile doth wear.
+  And Sambo sings a song.
+
+  While in their midst the artist head
+  Of "Golliwogg" appears,
+       With Peg beside,
+       Whose graceful stride
+  No criticism fears.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  But even wooden limbs get tired
+  And want a change of play,
+       So "Golliwogg"
+       A "jolly dog"
+  Suggests they run away.
+
+  The big shop door is bolted fast,
+  But through the yard behind,
+       Peggy has spied
+       One open wide,
+  Which she will shortly find.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  A touch--A push--and out they fly
+  Into the starlight night;
+       No one must know
+       The way they go
+  They cover up their flight.
+
+  And though their laughing faces tell
+  How they enjoy the fun,
+       No sound they make,
+       But quickly take
+  Unto their heels and run.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Nor stop until they reach a field,
+  And find a lovely slide;
+       No fear has Peg,
+       But Meg and Weg
+  Cling screaming as they glide.
+
+  The "Golliwogg" with flying hair,
+  Takes the first lead you see,
+       Nor minds at all
+       The "Midget" small,
+  Her arms outstretched in glee.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  The sliders never dreamed of harm,
+  They sailed like ships at sea;
+       'Twas Meg and Weg,
+       Who Tripped up Peg,
+  And brought to grief their spree.
+
+  The wrong man often gets the blame
+  'Twas just so in this case,
+       And balls of snow
+       They madly throw
+  At "Golliwogg's" kind face.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  He catches one in either eye,
+  And then turns tail to run;
+       The steady aim
+       Of Sarah Jane
+  Grows very serious fun.
+
+  He does not like the way girls act,
+  For five to one's not fair;
+       There's no escape
+       One hits his nape,
+  Another strikes his hair.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "Vengeance!" he cries, "I'll pay them out!
+  If girls will play with boys,
+       There's got be
+       Equality,
+  So here's for equipoise!"
+
+  And then some monster balls he makes,
+  He does not spare the snow
+       And as each back
+       Receives a whack,
+  Like ninepins down they go.
+
+  In life we have our "ups" and "downs",
+  These dolls enjoyed the same;
+       Though down went Weg,
+       Don't think, I beg,
+  'Twas due to Sarah Jane.
+
+  You see the sled was pretty full,
+  The hill was rather steep;
+       Weg was to steer
+       But in her fear
+  She took a backward leap.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Anon all reached the valley safe,
+  And skating longed to try;
+       The ice seemed good,
+       As each one stood
+  Upon the bank hard by.
+
+  While "Golliwogg" with cautious steps,
+  Toward the middle skates;
+       They hear a crack!
+       They cry, "come back
+  To your devoted mates!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Too late! alas their call is vain!
+  He swiftly disappears!
+       His kind forethought
+       Is dearly bought,
+  It melts them unto tears.
+
+  But sturdy Peg is quick to act,
+  She gives an order clear,
+       "Creep on your knees,
+       And by degrees
+  We to the hole will steer."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  They reach in time, Peg drags him out
+  With all her might and main;
+       Poor "Golliwogg",
+       A dripping log,
+  Must be got home again.
+
+  Behold sure signs of early dawn,
+  As down the field they start;
+       A leaden weight,
+       This living freight,
+  With faintly beating heart.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  In half an hour the sun comes up,
+  And shows a merry face;
+       He winks an eye
+       As passing by
+  He sees the skating place.
+
+  And when he peeps into the shop
+  With jolly laughing eye,
+       Tho' he's not blind
+       He cannot find
+  A single toy awry!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg16905.txt

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+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, David Garcia and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+[Transcriber's Note: Mosnar Yendis is an anagram of Sidney Ransom,
+the author. Best known for advertising posters, this children's book is
+a rare example of his work outside that genre. As of this writing, known
+copies include two in the Library of Congress offsite storage, one in
+the British Library, one in the National Library of Scotland, a small
+handful of others in the wild, and the one used to create this version.
+The NLS copy was used as a reference to verify the sequence and presence
+of all pages.]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Front cover.]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                                    THE
+                               Great Red Frog
+
+                              TOLD AND PICTURED
+                                     BY
+                                  M. Yendis
+
+
+                                METHUEN & CO.
+                            36 ESSEX STREET W.C.
+                                   LONDON
+
+                                    1903
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Many years ago, and many miles away, there was a little Prince who was
+exactly like the Lord Chamberlain's son, and sometimes even the artful
+old Chamberlain himself could not tell one from the other.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+When the Prince became King of Noware, they were still alike as two
+peas, and one day, when they were playing in the garden, a Magic Bush
+suddenly grew up behind the King. At the same moment the Chamberlain's
+Son suddenly lost his temper,
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+And pushed his royal play-fellow into the Magic Bush. The little
+King was immediately changed into a strange red Frog, which ran
+away croaking fearfully.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+The wicked Chamberlain seemed quite pleased when his son told him what
+had happened,
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+And, placing a crown on his own son's head, he said, "Your Majesty has
+made a mistake; how can the King be a Frog when I see your Majesty
+before me?" And they both smiled artfully.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+The Chamberlain pretended to weep, and told everybody that his Son had
+been turned into a Frog.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+So the false King sat on the throne and grew up to be very bad and ugly,
+because he was always afraid the real King would return. He heard of
+the wonderful King of the Frogs, who carried off cattle on his back,
+and every time he saw a Frog he shivered all over.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+He was going to marry the Princess of Sumwareruther, and they expected
+her day after day, but she did not come. At last they became quite
+anxious, when one morning a little Blue Dwarf arrived at the Palace.
+He was quite breathless.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+His name was Omolo, and he told the King that when he and the young
+Princess (he was the Princess's page) were about twenty miles from the
+Palace, a Great Red Frog suddenly confronted them, put the soldiers to
+flight, and carried off the Princess.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+The King flew into a rage, and rushed out of the room declaring that
+he would go to war with the King of the Frogs.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+So the Chamberlain made a speech to the Army.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+But the Army was so afraid of the Great Red Frog that they were taken
+ill and could not go.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+And without saying a word to anyone, little Omolo climbed on to a
+Stork's back--
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+And flew off to save the Princess.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+Now the Stork had a friend, a very wise Owl, to whom they went for
+advice. The Owl put on his glasses and a very grave voice. He told Omolo
+where he would find a Magic Sword, and also where the King of the Frogs
+lived.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+Then, after thanking the Owl, they went on again and finally found the
+King Frog at home; but Omolo was rather surprised to see the Princess
+taking afternoon tea with him, and not frightened in the least.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+When she saw Omolo, she clapped her hands with delight, but before she
+could say a word, he attacked the King of the Frogs with his Magic Sword
+and wounded him. Directly the Sword touched the Frog,--
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+He changed into a splendid King with a Ruby Crown. The Princess was
+delighted, for, as of course you have guessed, he was the real King
+of Noware.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+He thanked Omolo graciously, and, taking the Magic Sword, he changed
+the little Blue Dwarf into a handsome fellow, and made him an Earl on
+the spot, and gave him command of the Army.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+And being very pleased with the kind Stork he changed him into a man,
+and made him his Chancellor. He was a bit storky at first, but he
+gradually improved.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+Thoughtfully leaving the King and the Princess to talk things over, Earl
+Omolo went out and caught a Robin, changed it into a smart soldier, and
+sent him off recruiting. Very shortly there were thousands of Robins
+twittering to be enlisted.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+They marched back to the Palace with a large army, and everybody was
+pleased to see them, except the false King and the Chamberlain, who
+begged the King to spare their lives, and as he was very happy he did
+so. But they were justly punished.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+So the King married the Princess, and they had a magnificent Coronation,
+and as everybody was happy at the end--I hope you will be happy at
+
+                                THE END.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Back Cover.]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg17068.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,647 @@
+
+
+
+E-text prepared by Hilary Caws-Elwitt in honor of Jean Caws
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 17068-h.htm or 17068-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/0/6/17068/17068-h/17068-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/0/6/17068/17068-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+                    Have you seen
+
+             "The Animals' Trip to Sea"
+
+                         and
+
+                "The Animals' Picnic"
+
+                  by CLIFTON BINGHAM
+
+             illustrated by G. H. THOMPSON
+
+                      NOW READY
+
+
+              *     *     *     *     *
+
+
+
+
+THE
+ANIMALS'
+REBELLION
+
+described by
+CLIFTON BINGHAM
+
+and pictured by
+G. H. THOMPSON
+
+London                                              New York
+Ernest Nister       Printed in Bavaria.        E P Dutton & Co
+
+
+              *     *     *     *     *
+
+
+
+
+The Animals' Rebellion.
+
+
+The "Trip to Sea"[A] had long been made,
+The "Picnic"[B] bills had all been paid;
+But if you'll listen, I will tell
+What made the animals rebel.
+
+The Tiger was dissatisfied--
+"Why should the Lion reign?" he cried;
+"He's no more King of Beasts than I;
+So let us all his rule defy!"
+
+A secret meeting then he called:
+And while the others stood appalled,
+His wants and grievances explained,
+And quickly some adherents gained.
+
+The Fox his joy could not conceal--
+"In guns," thought he, "I'll make a deal!"
+The Owl, who all his speeches heard,
+Took care to take down every word:
+
+And ere the rising of the sun,
+The Great Rebellion had begun!
+
+[Footnote A: "The Animals' Trip to Sea."]
+[Footnote B: "The Animals' Picnic."]
+
+
+[Illustration: SECRET MEETING OF THE REBELS]
+
+
+
+
+The Tiger's Petition
+
+
+The King sat on his Throne one day,
+  His Crown upon his brow;
+To him, in most obsequious way,
+  The Tiger made his bow.
+
+His long petition he unrolled,
+  With names all written down;
+The courtiers stared--their blood ran cold--
+  King Leo gave a frown.
+
+"What have we here?" demanded he,
+  "And what does he require?"
+The Elephant said, "Here I see
+  A traitor, royal sire!"
+
+The Brown Bear murmured, "So do I--
+  He's right, without a doubt!"
+The monarch cried, with flashing eye,
+  "Turn this intruder out!"
+
+[Illustration: PRESENTING A PETITION TO THE KING]
+
+At midnight, in an empty hut,
+  Deep in the forest old,
+The Rebels met with doors close shut,
+  Their dark schemes to unfold.
+
+"Friends!" Tiger cried, "no more we'll brook
+  This despot's cruel reign;
+Our charter lies before us--look!
+  The plan of our campaign!"
+
+
+
+
+Mr. Fox's Armoury.
+
+
+Directly Brother Fox was told,
+  He ransacked all his stores,
+And soon was making bags of gold
+ And selling guns in scores.
+
+The Brown Bear bought a blunderbuss;
+  And when they saw the arm,
+The Bunnies all cried, "Don't shoot _us_!
+  We've not done any harm!"
+
+The Tiger thought revolvers best,
+  So he bought half a score;
+"No guns I've had," said Fox, with zest,
+"_Went off_ so well before!"
+
+"Don't fear, my Bunnies, you'll be shot,
+  Though each has bought a gun;
+I'll whisper this," said  Fox: "they've got
+  Blank cartridge ev'ry one!"
+
+[Illustration: THE ARMORY]
+
+
+
+
+Raising the Standard.
+
+
+From lair to lair the news soon spread,
+And one and all leapt out of bed,
+And sallied forth, with loud hurrays,
+The Standard of Revolt to raise.
+
+The Bear looked fierce, the Crocodile
+Put on his most bloodthirsty smile;
+The Leopard and the Wolf were there,
+And cheers resounded in the air.
+
+The Tiger roared a lengthy speech,
+And called, in loudest tones, on each
+To do his best when came the fray,
+Not be afraid, nor run away.
+
+Cried he: "Now, onward to the field,
+To make this tyrant monarch yield!"
+"Charge, Leopard, charge--on, Tiger, on!"
+Were the first words of Rebellion.
+
+[Illustration: RAISING THE STANDARD OF REVOLT]
+
+Next morn a Scout the Camp alarms,
+The Lion's soldiers fly to arms.
+"The enemy advance!" he cries,
+"And means to take you by surprise!"
+In Leo's Camp, on Zootown plains,
+The utmost consternation reigns.
+
+
+
+
+In Leo's Camp.
+
+
+This startling news the peaceful Camp
+  With preparation fills,
+Resounding with the soldiers' tramp,
+  The noise of many drills.
+
+The Sergeants shout, the General storms;
+  All round one sees and hears
+The trying on of uniforms,
+  The clank of swords and spears.
+
+The Fox pretended, by and by,
+  To be deaf, dumb and lame;
+But Jacko, with a placard "Spy,"
+  Quite spoilt his little game.
+
+Field Marshal Hippo shouted out,
+  "Arrest him on the spot!"
+If he had not escaped, no doubt
+  He'd promptly have been shot.
+
+[Illustration: A SPY IN CAMP]
+
+
+
+
+Preparing for the Fray.
+
+Preparing for the coming fray,
+The Camp was busy night and day;
+The Rhino had his horn re-ground,
+Because it had got blunt he found.
+
+The Elephant had his tusks, too,
+Re-sharpened till they looked like new;
+In fact, the Ape's new grindstone strong
+Was working nearly all day long.
+
+All day the Camp was never still--
+With marching to and fro, and drill;
+And quite right too, since it appears
+They hadn't been to war for years.
+
+The oldest there had never known
+Such preparations to be shown;
+Indeed, they'd never had, somehow,
+A great Rebellion until now.
+
+[Illustration: PREPARING FOR THE FRAY]
+
+Next day took place the Grand Review,
+  Before His Majesty,
+The troops marched past in order true--
+  A splendid sight to see.
+
+The speech he made filled all with pride,
+  As brave as brave could be:
+"For Country and for King," he cried,
+  "On, on to victory!"
+
+
+
+
+The Advance Guard.
+
+
+Then marched they forth unto the fray
+A battle fierce took place next day;
+I'm told it was a fearful fight,
+That lasted quite from morn till night.
+
+Through hail of shot and rain of lead,
+His Rebel band the Tiger led;
+And found that when the fight was done
+A brilliant victory was won.
+
+In vain King Leo's gallant band
+(The Prince of Tails was in command)
+Essayed the Rebel force to beat--
+The effort ended in defeat.
+
+Their cocoa-nuts, with deadly aim,
+The Monkeys threw, but all the same;
+Though Jumbo streams of water poured,
+The enemy a victory scored.
+
+[Illustration: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH THE ENEMY]
+
+
+
+
+The Elephant Wounded.
+
+
+Alas! for he so bravely fought,
+  Poor Jumbo wounded lay;
+The ambulance they quickly brought
+  To where he fell that day.
+
+"To Hospital this instant!" cried
+  The Surgeon in command;
+"Don't let them say he would have died
+  If we'd not been at hand!"
+
+"But, wait," he said, "till I with care
+  Have quite examined him!"
+He probed him here, and probed him there,
+  And tested every limb.
+
+"It's but a nervous shock!" he said,
+  "Since he's so large and fat;
+You can't take him, and so, instead,
+  You'd better take his hat!"
+
+[Illustration: A WOUNDED HERO]
+
+Ere dusk the King's troops had retreated,
+By Tiger's Rebel band defeated;
+They ran pell-mell and helter-skelter,
+For any place to give them shelter.
+
+The Elephant, though he was wounded,
+Ran faster than the big Baboon did;
+The Owl to Camp flew like a bird
+To tell the King what had occurred.
+
+
+
+
+Rejoicings in the Rebel Camp
+
+
+Rejoicings in the Rebel Camp
+  Were great indeed that night;
+Each tent hung out a Chinese lamp
+  To celebrate the fight.
+
+They sang and shouted, o'er and o'er,
+  Until their throats were tired;
+They let off fireworks by the score,
+  A "feu de joie" was fired.
+
+When Wolf, who's not a marksman good,
+  Shot holes in Bear's new hat,
+Bear never even said, "You should
+  Apologise for that!"
+
+In short, they would, as like as not,
+  Have kept it up till day;
+Had someone not found out they'd shot
+  Their powder all away.
+
+[Illustration: REJOICINGS IN THE REBEL CAMP]
+
+
+
+
+Marching on the King's Capital.
+
+
+Next morn, with victory elate,
+"Why should we wait or hesitate?
+We'll march at once, without delay,
+Upon the Capital!" cried they.
+
+"That's _capital_!" a Monkey said,
+(But he at once was sent to bed!)
+But, all the same, it was agreed,
+So General Tiger took the lead.
+
+With flying flags and drums rat-tan
+The Rebels' onward march began.
+Cried Tiger, "Leoville one mile!"
+"That's nothing!" said the Crocodile.
+
+But Wolf, who kept a good look-out,
+Saw Private Whiskers out on scout.
+"Ha, ha," cried he, "I've caught a spy--
+That means promotion by and by!"
+
+[Illustration: MARCHING ON THE KING'S CAPITAL]
+
+"Great victory!" said Wolf, with pride,
+  And showed his prize with rapture;
+"Well done, indeed," the Tiger cried,
+  "A most important capture!"
+
+
+
+
+The Battle.
+
+
+Soon with the Lion's gallant troops
+  The Rebels were engaged;
+This way and that, 'midst wildest whoops
+  The tide of battle raged.
+
+The Elephant first sounded "Charge!"
+  And valiant deeds performed;
+The Rebels saw his trunk so large,
+  And trembled when he stormed.
+
+At first, though, neither side gained much;
+  But when 'twas paw to paw,
+The Owl, in his report, said, "Such
+  A fight I never saw!"
+
+Said Wolf, "No more at war I'll scoff,
+  I think I'd best begone!"
+And when the foe's last gun _went off_
+  The battle still _went on_.
+
+[Illustration: THE BATTLE]
+
+
+
+
+The Cavalry Charge.
+
+
+But, oh! the finest sight to see
+Was Leo's Giraffe Cavalry;
+As down the battle plain they tore,
+The Rebels saw that all was o'er.
+
+As on the Monkey troopers swept,
+The Bunnies to their holes all crept;
+The foe who set triumphant out
+Was first a rabble, then a rout!
+
+The Owl, in "Zooland," said, next day:
+"Our troops like chaff swept them away;
+Their praises let us loudly sing,
+Who won the day for Leo, King!"
+
+[Illustration: THE CHARGE OF THE GIRAFFE CAVALRY]
+
+The leader, Tiger, soon was caught,
+And into Camp a prisoner brought;
+A warning to this very day,
+To all who at Rebellion play.
+
+
+
+
+The Court-Martial.
+
+
+Field Marshal Leo then and there
+  A stern Court-Martial held;
+The prisoner, with defiant air,
+  Explained why he rebelled.
+
+"Such conduct," said the President,
+  "Admits of no defence;
+But since you ask it, I'll consent
+  To hear the evidence."
+
+'Twas heard--in "Zooland" of that week
+  You'll find the Owl's report;
+The President then rose to speak,
+  The sentence of the Court.
+
+"On all counts guilty he appears--
+  The prisoner's sentenced to
+A lenient term--a hundred years
+  Confinement in the Zoo!"
+
+[Illustration: THE COURT-MARTIAL]
+
+
+
+
+The Rebels Surrender.
+
+
+The other Rebels, when they heard
+Of what to Tiger had occurred,
+Surrendered everyone next day,
+And threw down arms without delay.
+
+The Bear said, "I don't want to keep
+My blunderbuss--'twas much too cheap!"
+The Leopard and the Crocodile
+Threw theirs upon the growing pile.
+
+Of loyalty each took the oath,
+While Jumbo and Lord Rhino, both
+Promoted Colonels by the King,
+Kept watch that each his gun did bring.
+
+And Colonel Jumbo winked his eye
+To Colonel Rhino, standing by:
+"We'd be Field Marshals soon, no fear,
+If we'd Rebellions ev'ry year!"
+
+[Illustration: THE REBELS SURRENDER]
+
+This done, the prisoners were sent
+Off to perpetual banishment;
+Forbidden thenceforth, under pain
+Of death, to e'er come back again!
+Oh, sad indeed that Rebel band,
+That bade farewell to dear Zooland.
+
+
+
+
+One of the King's Heroes.
+
+
+T'was soon remarked by not a few
+  That Hippo was not seen;
+The rumour ran--alas! too true--
+  That he had wounded been.
+
+Then messengers went out and found
+  The hero of the strife;
+His wounds with bandages were bound
+  By his most loving wife.
+
+The King himself, when he was told,
+  In person--came to see;
+"When well," said he, "oh, hero bold,
+Sir Hippo you shall be!"
+
+With Surgeon's skill and wifely care
+  He soon recovered quite;
+Now there's no soldier anywhere
+  Like Sir John Hippo, Knight.
+
+[Illustration: ONE OF THE KING'S HEROES]
+
+
+
+
+The King's Return.
+
+
+With clash of brass and drums that banged,
+With flags that flew and bells that clanged,
+They celebrated, as you see,
+The King's return from victory.
+
+  Rejoicings reigned on every hand,
+  The noise was great, the music grand;
+  They bought up all the butchers' shops,
+  Gave everyone free steaks and chops.
+
+  Buns, nuts and cakes were given away,
+  The children had a holiday;
+  His people came from far and nigh
+  To see King Leo riding by.
+
+  The cavalry were there, of course,
+  And everyone next day was hoarse;
+  For 'twas not often they could see
+  A King return from victory.
+
+[Illustration: RETURN OF THE KING TO HIS CAPITAL]
+
+Next day the King an order gave
+  That he would distribute
+His medals to his soldiers brave,
+  Both cavalry and foot.
+
+The medals were the very best--
+  Some putty and some tin;
+The King unto each hero's breast
+  Affixed them with a pin.
+
+
+
+
+Home Again.
+
+
+Now ended is the strife and fray,
+  Dispersed the Rebel train;
+There's joy in Jumbo Hall to-day,
+  For Daddy's home again.
+
+Watch Mamma Jumbo's beaming face
+  To see him safe and sound,
+Of battle showing not a trace,
+  Although with glory crowned.
+
+'Tis good once more to see him curl
+  His big trunk with delight,
+And toss in air his baby girl
+  Before she says good-night.
+
+While Tommy vows, when he is tall,
+  He'll fight with might and main;
+Oh, all is joy at Jumbo Hall
+  Now Daddy's home again.
+
+[Illustration: HOME AGAIN]
+
+[Illustration: LONG LIVE KING LEO]
+
+
+              *     *     *     *     *
+
+
+
+
+_By the same Author and Artist._
+
+
+THE ANIMALS' TRIP TO SEA.
+
+The most fascinating thing of the kind we ever saw. --The Guardian.
+
+Is brimful of fun from cover to cover. --The Queen.
+
+Is extremely funny and decidedly original. --St. James's Gazette.
+
+A hearty welcome to the nursery will be accorded to "The Animals' Trip
+to Sea." --The New York Churchman.
+
+The cleverest thing we have seen for many moons in the shape of
+a picture-book for children. --Boston Herald.
+
+Cannot fail to elicit shouts of laughter from the observing little ones.
+--The Boston Beacon.
+
+
+THE ANIMALS' PICNIC.
+
+It is a highly enjoyable book for children of all ages. --The Guardian.
+
+Absolutely brimming over with wit and humour. --The Baptist.
+
+The illustrations should bring a smile to the most sedate countenance.
+--Liverpool Courier.
+
+This book deserves to be a favorite with holiday gift buyers.
+--Chicago Record Herald.
+
+Is made up of humorous rhymes and quite as humorous pictures. --The
+Dial (Chicago).
+
+The pictures are both colored and in black and white, and practical
+experience enables us to state positively that they do in point of fact
+immensely amuse young children. --The Outlook (New York).
+
+
+
+
+

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+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jason Isbell, David Garcia and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: FRONT COVER]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+              The ROCKET Book
+
+              by PETER NEWELL
+
+
+
+             HARPER & BROTHERS
+                 NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+   COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY HARPER & BROTHERS
+               --------------
+           PATENTED JUNE 4, 1912
+               --------------
+  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
+          PUBLISHED OCTOBER, 1912
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE ROCKET BOOK
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE BASEMENT
+
+
+  When Fritz, the Janitor's bad kid,
+    Went snooping in the basement,
+  He found a rocket snugly hid
+    Beneath the window casement.
+
+  He struck a match with one fell swoop;
+    Then, on the concrete kneeling,
+  He lit the rocket and--she--oop!
+    It shot up through the ceiling.
+
+
+[Illustration: THE BASEMENT]
+
+
+
+
+FIRST FLAT
+
+
+  The Steiners on the floor above
+    Of breakfast were partaking;
+  Crash! came the rocket, unannounced,
+    And set them all a-quaking!
+
+  It smote a catsup bottle, fair,
+    And bang! the thing exploded!
+  And now these people all declare
+    That catsup flask was loaded.
+
+
+[Illustration: FIRST FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+SECOND FLAT
+
+
+  Before the fire old Grandpa Hopp
+    Dozed in his arm-chair big,
+  When from a trunk the rocket burst
+    And carried off his wig!
+
+  It passed so near his ancient head
+    He roused up with a start,
+  And, turning to his grandsons, said,
+    "You fellows think you're smart!"
+
+
+[Illustration: SECOND FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+THIRD FLAT
+
+
+  Algernon Bracket, somewhat rash,
+    Had blown a monster bubble,
+  When, oh! there came a blinding flash,
+    Precipitating trouble!
+
+  But Algy turned in mild disgust,
+    And called to Mama Bracket,
+  "Say, did you hear that bubble bu'st?
+    It made an awful racket!"
+
+
+[Illustration: THIRD FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+FOURTH FLAT
+
+
+  Jo Budd, who'd bought a potted plant,
+    Was dousing it with water.
+  He fancied this would make it grow,
+    And Joseph loved to potter.
+
+  Then through the pot the rocket shot
+    And made the scene look sickly!
+  "Well, now," said Jo, "I never thought
+    That plant would shoot so quickly!"
+
+
+[Illustration: FOURTH FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+FIFTH FLAT
+
+
+  Right here 'tis needful to remark
+    That Dick and "Little Son"
+  Were playing with a Noah's ark
+    And having loads of fun,
+
+  When all at once that rocket, stout,
+    Up through the ark came blazing!
+  The animals were tossed about
+    And did some stunts amazing.
+
+
+[Illustration: FIFTH FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+SIXTH FLAT
+
+
+  A Burglar on the next floor up
+    The sideboard was exploring.
+  (The family, with the brindled pup,
+    Were still asleep and snoring.)
+
+  Just then, up through the silverware
+    The rocket thundered, flaring!
+  The Burglar got a dreadful scare;
+    Then out the door went tearing.
+
+
+[Illustration: SIXTH FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+SEVENTH FLAT
+
+
+  Miss Mamie Briggs with no mean skill
+    Was playing "Casey's Fling"
+  To please her cousin, Amos Gill,
+    Who liked that sort of thing,
+
+  When suddenly the rocket, hot,
+    The old piano jumbled!
+  It stopped that rag-time like a shot,
+    Then through the ceiling rumbled.
+
+
+[Illustration: SEVENTH FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+EIGHTH FLAT
+
+
+  Up through the next floor on its way
+    That rocket, dread, went tearing
+  Where Winkle stood in bath-robe, gay,
+    A tepid bath preparing.
+
+  The tub it punctured like a shot
+    And made a mighty splashing.
+  The man was rooted to the spot;
+    Then out the door went dashing.
+
+
+[Illustration: EIGHTH FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+NINTH FLAT
+
+
+  Bob Brooks was puffing very hard
+    His football to inflate,
+  While round him stood his faithful guard,
+    And they could hardly wait.
+
+  Then came the rocket, fierce and bright,
+    And through the football rumbled.
+  "You've got a pair of lungs, all right!"
+    His staring playmates grumbled.
+
+
+[Illustration: NINTH FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+TENTH FLAT
+
+
+  The family dog, with frenzied mien,
+    Was chasing Fluff, the mouser,
+  When, poof! the rocket flashed between,
+    And quite astonished Towzer.
+
+  Now, if this dog had wit enough
+    The English tongue to torture,
+  He might have growled such silly stuff
+    As, "Whew! that cat's a scorcher!"
+
+
+[Illustration: TENTH FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+ELEVENTH FLAT
+
+
+  While Carrie Cook sat with a book
+    The phonograph played sweetly.
+  Then came the rocket and it smashed
+    That instrument completely.
+
+  Fair Carrie promptly turned her head,
+    Attracted by the roar.
+  "Dear me, I never heard," she said,
+    "That record played before!"
+
+
+[Illustration: ELEVENTH FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+TWELFTH FLAT
+
+
+  De Vere was searching for a match
+    To light a cigarette,
+  But failed to find one with despatch,
+    Which threw him in a pet.
+
+  Just then the rocket flared up bright
+    Before his face and crackled,
+  Supplying him the needed light--
+    "Thanks, awfully," he cackled.
+
+
+[Illustration: TWELFTH FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+THIRTEENTH FLAT
+
+
+  Home from the shop came Maud's new hat--
+    A hat of monstrous size!
+  It almost filled the tiny flat
+    Before her ravished eyes.
+
+  When, sch-u-u! up through the box so proud
+    The rocket flared and spluttered.
+  "I said that hat was all too loud!"
+    Her peevish husband muttered.
+
+
+[Illustration: THIRTEENTH FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+FOURTEENTH FLAT
+
+
+  Tom's pap had helped him start his train,
+    And all would have been fine
+  Had not the rocket, raising Cain,
+    Blocked traffic on the line.
+
+  It blew the engine into scrap,
+    As in a fit of passion.
+  "Who would have thought that toy," said pap,
+    "Would blow up in such fashion!"
+
+
+[Illustration: FOURTEENTH FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+FIFTEENTH FLAT
+
+
+  Orlando Pease, quite at his ease,
+    The "Morning Star" was reading.
+  "My dear," said he to Mrs. Pease,
+    "Here's a report worth heeding."
+
+  The rocket then in wanton sport
+    Flashed through the printed pages.
+  The lady gasped, "A wild report!"
+    Then swooned by easy stages.
+
+
+[Illustration: FIFTEENTH FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+SIXTEENTH FLAT
+
+
+  Doc Danby was a stupid guy,
+    So, lest he sleep too late,
+  He placed a tattoo clock near by
+    To waken him at eight.
+
+  But, ah! the rocket smote that clock
+    And smashed its way clean through it!
+  "You have a fine alarm," said Doc,
+    "But, say, you overdo it!"
+
+
+[Illustration: SIXTEENTH FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+SEVENTEENTH FLAT
+
+
+  A penny-liner, Abram Stout,
+    Was writing a description.
+  "The flame shot up," he pounded out--
+    Then threw a mild conniption.
+
+  For through his Flemington there shied
+    A rocket, hot and mystic.
+  "I didn't mean to be," he cried,
+    "So deuced realistic!"
+
+
+[Illustration: SEVENTEENTH FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+EIGHTEENTH FLAT
+
+
+  Gus Gummer long had set his head
+    Upon some strange invention.
+  "Be careful, Gus," his good wife said;
+    "It might explode. I mention--"
+
+  Just then the pesky rocket flared
+    And wrecked that Yankee notion.
+  "I feared as much!" his wife declared;
+    Then fainted from emotion.
+
+
+[Illustration: EIGHTEENTH FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+NINETEENTH FLAT
+
+
+  While Burt was on his hobby-horse
+    And riding it like mad,
+  The rocket on its fiery course
+    Upset the startled lad.
+
+  The frightened pony plunged a lot,
+    Like Fury playing tag.
+  "Whoa, Spot!" said Burt. "Who would have thought
+    You such a fiery nag!"
+
+
+[Illustration: NINETEENTH FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+TWENTIETH FLAT
+
+
+  A taxidermist plied his trade
+    Upon a walrus' head.
+  It really made him quite afraid
+    To meet its stare so dread.
+
+  When suddenly the rocket, bright,
+    Flared up and then was off!
+  "Oh, Minnie," cried the man in fright,
+    "Just hear that walrus cough!"
+
+
+[Illustration: TWENTIETH FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+TOP FLAT
+
+
+  Oh, it was just a splendid flight--
+    That rocket's wild career!
+  But to an end it came, all right,
+    As you shall straightway hear.
+
+  It plunged into a can of cream
+    That Billy Bunk was freezing,
+  And froze quite stiff, as it would seem,
+    And so subsided, wheezing.
+
+
+[Illustration: TOP FLAT]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg17195.txt

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+
+
+
+E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, S. R. Ellison, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/)
+
+
+
+A MESSAGE TO GARCIA
+
+Being a Preachment
+
+by
+
+Elbert Hubbard.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Elbert Hubbard]
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+Done into a Printed Book
+by the Roycrofters at
+Their Shop, Which Is in East
+Aurora, Erie County, N.Y.
+Copyright 1914 by Elbert Hubbard
+
+
+
+
+
+APOLOGIA
+
+
+
+
+HORSE SENSE
+
+If you work for a man, in Heaven's name work for him. If he pays wages
+that supply you your bread and butter, work for him, speak well of
+him, think well of him, and stand by him, and stand by the institution
+he represents. I think if I worked for a man, I would work for him.
+I would not work for him a part of his time, but all of his time. I
+would give an undivided service or none. If put to the pinch, an
+ounce of loyalty is worth a pound of cleverness. If you must vilify,
+condemn, and eternally disparage, why, resign your position, and when
+you are outside, damn to your heart's content. But, I pray you, so
+long as you are a part of an institution, do not condemn it. Not that
+you will injure the institution--not that--but when you disparage the
+concern of which you are a part, you disparage yourself. And don't
+forget--"I forgot" won't do in business.
+
+[Sidenote: _A trying day_]
+
+This literary trifle, "A Message to Garcia," was written one evening
+after supper, in a single hour. It was on the Twenty-second of
+February, Eighteen Hundred Ninety-nine, Washington's Birthday, and we
+were just going to press with the March "Philistine." The thing
+leaped hot from my heart, written after a trying day, when I had been
+endeavoring to train some rather delinquent villagers to abjure the
+comatose state and get radio-active.
+
+[Sidenote: The real hero of the war]
+
+The immediate suggestion, though, came from a little argument over the
+teacups, when my boy Bert suggested that Rowan was the real hero of
+the Cuban War. Rowan had gone alone and done the thing--carried the
+message to Garcia.
+
+[Sidenote: The increasing demand]
+
+It came to me like a flash! Yes, the boy is right, the hero is the man
+who does his work--who carries the message to Garcia. I got up from
+the table, and wrote "A Message to Garcia." I thought so little of
+it that we ran it in the Magazine without a heading. The edition
+went out, and soon orders began to come for extra copies of the March
+"Philistine," a dozen, fifty, a hundred; and when the American News
+Company ordered a thousand, I asked one of my helpers which article it
+was that had stirred up the cosmic dust.
+
+"It's the stuff about Garcia," he said.
+
+[Sidenote: George H. Daniels]
+
+The next day a telegram came from George H. Daniels, of the New York
+Central Railroad, thus: "Give price on one hundred thousand Rowan
+article in pamphlet form--Empire State Express advertisement on
+back--also how soon can ship."
+
+I replied giving price, and stated we could supply the pamphlets in
+two years. Our facilities were small and a hundred thousand booklets
+looked like an awful undertaking.
+
+The result was that I gave Mr. Daniels permission to reprint the
+article in his own way. He issued it in booklet form in editions of
+half a million. Two or three of these half-million lots were sent out
+by Mr. Daniels, and in addition the article was reprinted in over
+two hundred magazines and newspapers. It has been translated into all
+written languages.
+
+[Sidenote: Prince Hilakoff]
+
+At the time Mr. Daniels was distributing the "Message to Garcia,"
+Prince Hilakoff, Director of Russian Railways, was in this country. He
+was the guest of the New York Central, and made a tour of the country
+under the personal direction of Mr. Daniels. The Prince saw the little
+book and was interested in it, more because Mr. Daniels was putting it
+out in such big numbers, probably, than otherwise.
+
+[Sidenote: The Russian railroad-men]
+
+In any event, when he got home he had the matter translated into
+Russian, and a copy of the booklet given to every railroad employee in
+Russia.
+
+Other countries then took it up, and from Russia it passed into
+Germany, France, Spain, Turkey, Hindustan and China. During the war
+between Russia and Japan, every Russian soldier who went to the front
+was given a copy of the "Message to Garcia."
+
+[Sidenote: The war in the East]
+
+The Japanese, finding the booklets in possession of the Russian
+prisoners, concluded that it must be a good thing, and accordingly
+translated it into Japanese.
+
+And on an order of the Mikado, a copy was given to every man in the
+employ of the Japanese Government, soldier or civilian. Over forty
+million copies of "A Message to Garcia" have been printed.
+
+[Sidenote: Its great circulation]
+
+This is said to be a larger circulation than any other literary
+venture has ever attained during the lifetime of the author, in all
+history--thanks to a series of lucky accidents!--E.H.
+
+[Illustration: ]
+
+
+
+
+
+A MESSAGE TO GARCIA
+
+
+
+
+    As the cold of snow in the time of harvest, so is a faithful
+    messenger to them that send him: for he refresheth the soul of
+    his masters.--_Proverbs xxv:_ 13
+
+
+
+
+In all this Cuban business there is one man stands out on the horizon
+of my memory like Mars at perihelion.
+
+[Sidenote: The President needed a man]
+
+When war broke out between Spain and the United States, it was very
+necessary to communicate quickly with the leader of the Insurgents.
+Garcia was somewhere in the mountain fastnesses of Cuba--no one knew
+where. No mail or telegraph message could reach him. The President
+must secure his co-operation, and quickly. What to do!
+
+[Sidenote: And found one]
+
+Some one said to the President, "There is a fellow by the name of
+Rowan will find Garcia for you, if anybody can."
+
+[Sidenote: He delivered the message]
+
+Rowan was sent for and was given a letter to be delivered to Garcia.
+How "the fellow by the name of Rowan" took the letter, sealed it up in
+an oilskin pouch, strapped it over his heart, in four days landed by
+night off the coast of Cuba from an open boat, disappeared into the
+jungle, and in three weeks came out on the other side of the Island,
+having traversed a hostile country on foot, and delivered his letter
+to Garcia--are things I have no special desire now to tell in detail.
+The point that I wish to make is this: McKinley gave Rowan a letter to
+be delivered to Garcia; Rowan took the letter and did not ask, "Where
+is he at?" By the Eternal! there is a man whose form should be cast in
+deathless bronze and the statue placed in every college of the land.
+It is not book-learning young men need, nor instruction about this and
+that, but a stiffening of the vertebrae which will cause them to be
+loyal to a trust, to act promptly, concentrate their energies: do the
+thing--"Carry a message to Garcia."
+
+[Sidenote: The Moral]
+
+General Garcia is dead now, but there are other Garcias.
+
+No man who has endeavored to carry out an enterprise where many
+hands were needed, but has been well-nigh appalled at times by the
+imbecility of the average man--the inability or unwillingness to
+concentrate on a thing and do it.
+
+[Sidenote: There are other Garcias]
+
+Slipshod assistance, foolish inattention, dowdy indifference, and
+half-hearted work seem the rule; and no man succeeds, unless by hook
+or crook or threat he forces or bribes other men to assist him; or
+mayhap, God in His goodness performs a miracle, and sends him an Angel
+of Light for an assistant. You, reader, put this matter to a test: You
+are sitting now in your office--six clerks are within call. Summon any
+one and make this request: "Please look in the encyclopedia and make a
+brief memorandum for me concerning the life of Correggio."
+
+Will the clerk quietly say, "Yes, sir," and go do the task?
+
+On your life he will not. He will look at you out of a fishy eye and
+ask one or more of the following questions:
+
+[Sidenote: Which Encyclopedia?]
+
+Who was he?
+Which encyclopedia?
+Where is the encyclopedia?
+Was I hired for that?
+Don't you mean Bismarck?
+
+[Sidenote: What's the matter with Charlie doing it?]
+
+What's the matter with Charlie doing it?
+Is he dead?
+Is there any hurry?
+Shall I bring you the book and let you look it up yourself?
+What do you want to know for?
+
+_I wasn't hired for that anyway!_
+
+And I will lay you ten to one that after you have answered the
+questions, and explained how to find the information, and why you want
+it, the clerk will go off and get one of the other clerks to help him
+try to find Garcia--and then come back and tell you there is no such
+man. Of course I may lose my bet, but according to the Law of Average
+I will not.
+
+Now, if you are wise, you will not bother to explain to your
+"assistant" that Correggio is indexed under the C's, not in the K's,
+but you will smile very sweetly and say, "Never mind," and go look it
+up yourself.
+
+[Sidenote: _Dread of getting "the bounce"_]
+
+And this incapacity for independent action, this moral stupidity, this
+infirmity of the will, this unwillingness to cheerfully catch hold
+and lift--these are the things that put pure Socialism so far into the
+future. If men will not act for themselves, what will they do when
+the benefit of their effort is for all? A first mate with knotted club
+seems necessary; and the dread of getting "the bounce" Saturday night
+holds many a worker to his place.
+
+Advertise for a stenographer, and nine out of ten who apply can
+neither spell nor punctuate--and do not think it necessary to.
+
+Can such a one write a letter to Garcia?
+
+"You see that bookkeeper," said a foreman to me in a large factory.
+
+"Yes; what about him?"
+
+[Sidenote: _Who wants a man like this?_]
+
+"Well, he's a fine accountant, but if I'd send him up-town on an
+errand, he might accomplish the errand all right, and on the other
+hand, might stop at four saloons on the way, and when he got to Main
+Street would forget what he had been sent for."
+
+Can such a man be entrusted to carry a message to Garcia?
+
+We have recently been hearing much maudlin sympathy expressed for the
+"downtrodden denizens of the sweat-shop" and the "homeless wanderer
+searching for honest employment," and with it all often go many hard
+words for the men in power.
+
+[Sidenote: _The weeding-out process_]
+
+Nothing is said about the employer who grows old before his time in a
+vain attempt to get frowsy ne'er-do-wells to do intelligent work; and
+his long, patient striving with "help" that does nothing but loaf when
+his back is turned. In every store and factory there is a constant
+weeding-out process going on. The employer is continually sending away
+"help" that have shown their incapacity to further the interests of
+the business, and others are being taken on.
+
+[Sidenote: _This man says times are scarce_]
+
+No matter how good times are, this sorting continues: only if times
+are hard and work is scarce, the sorting is done finer--but out and
+forever out the incompetent and unworthy go. It is the survival of the
+fittest. Self-interest prompts every employer to keep the best--those
+who can carry a message to Garcia.
+
+I know one man of really brilliant parts who has not the ability to
+manage a business of his own, and yet who is absolutely worthless to
+any one else, because he carries with him constantly the insane
+suspicion that his employer is oppressing, or intending to oppress,
+him. He can not give orders; and he will not receive them. Should a
+message be given him to take to Garcia, his answer would probably be,
+"Take it yourself!"
+
+[Sidenote: _A spiritual cripple_]
+
+Tonight this man walks the streets looking for work, the wind
+whistling through his threadbare coat. No one who knows him dare
+employ him, for he is a regular firebrand of discontent. He is
+impervious to reason, and the only thing that can impress him is the
+toe of a thick-soled Number Nine boot.
+
+Of course I know that one so morally deformed is no less to be pitied
+than a physical cripple; but in our pitying let us drop a tear, too,
+for the men who are striving to carry on a great enterprise, whose
+working hours are not limited by the whistle, and whose hair is fast
+turning white through the struggle to hold in line dowdy indifference,
+slipshod imbecility, and the heartless ingratitude which, but for
+their enterprise, would be both hungry and homeless.
+
+[Sidenote: _A word of sympathy for the man who succeeds_]
+
+[Sidenote: _Rags not necessarily a recommendation_]
+
+Have I put the matter too strongly? Possibly I have; but when all the
+world has gone a-slumming I wish to speak a word of sympathy for the
+man who succeeds--the man who, against great odds, has directed the
+efforts of others, and having succeeded, finds there's nothing in it:
+nothing but bare board and clothes. I have carried a dinner-pail and
+worked for day's wages, and I have also been an employer of labor,
+and I know there is something to be said on both sides. There is no
+excellence, per se, in poverty; rags are no recommendation; and all
+employers are not rapacious and high-handed, any more than all poor
+men are virtuous.
+
+[Sidenote: _Good men are always needed_]
+
+[Sidenote: _Needed today and needed badly--A MAN_]
+
+My heart goes out to the man who does his work when the "boss" is
+away, as well as when he is at home. And the man who, when given
+a letter for Garcia, quietly takes the missive, without asking any
+idiotic questions, and with no lurking intention of chucking it into
+the nearest sewer, or of doing aught else but deliver it, never gets
+"laid off," nor has to go on a strike for higher wages. Civilization
+is one long, anxious search for just such individuals. Anything such
+a man asks shall be granted. His kind is so rare that no employer can
+afford to let him go. He is wanted in every city, town and village--in
+every office, shop, store and factory.
+
+The world cries out for such: he is needed, and needed badly--the man
+who can carry
+
+A MESSAGE TO GARCIA.
+
+[Illustration: ]
+
+
+
+
+    To act in absolute freedom and at the same time know that
+    responsibility is the price of freedom is salvation.
+
+
+
+
+HERE THEN ENDETH THE PREACHMENT, _A MESSAGE TO GARCIA_, AS
+WRITTEN BY FRA ELBERTUS AND DONE INTO A BOOK BY THE ROYCROFTERS AT
+THEIR SHOP, WHICH IS IN EAST AURORA, NEW YORK.
+
+
+
+
+LIFE IN ABUNDANCE
+
+The supreme prayer of my heart is not to be learned or "good," but to
+be Radiant.
+
+I desire to radiate health, cheerfulness, sincerity, calm courage and
+good-will.
+
+I wish to be simple, honest, natural, frank, clean in mind and clean
+in body, unaffected--ready to say, "I do not know," if so it be, to
+meet all men on an absolute equality--to face any obstacle and meet
+every difficulty unafraid and unabashed.
+
+I wish others to live their lives, too, up to their highest, fullest
+and best. To that end I pray that I may never meddle, dictate,
+interfere, give advice that is not wanted, nor assist when my services
+are not needed. If I can help people I'll do it by giving them a
+chance to help themselves; and if I can uplift or inspire, let it be
+by example, inference and suggestion, rather than by injunction and
+dictation. That is to say, I desire to be Radiant--to Radiate Life.
+
+
+
+
+

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+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jason Isbell, Melissa Er-Raqabi and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE SLANT BOOK
+By PETER NEWELL
+
+
+
+
+This uphill work is slow, indeed,
+But down the slant--ah! note the speed!
+
+
+
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS
+NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+Copyright 1910, by Harper & Brothers
+Patented September 20, 1910
+Published November, 1910
+Printed in the United States of America
+
+
+
+
+THE SLANT
+BOOK
+
+
+
+
+Where Bobby lives there is a hill--
+A hill so steep and high,
+'Twould fill the bill for Jack and Jill
+Their famous act to try
+
+Once Bobby's Go-cart broke away
+And down this hill it kited.
+The careless Nurse screamed in dismay
+But Bobby was delighted
+
+He clapped his hands, in manner rude,
+And laughed in high elation--
+While, close behind, the Nurse pursued
+In hopeless consternation
+
+[Illustration]
+
+An Officer slid off the lid
+As Bobby hove in sight,
+And bellowed out, "You're scorchin', kid--
+I'll run you in all right!"
+
+But down the Go-cart swiftly sped
+And smashed that Cop completely,
+And as he sailed o'er Bobby's head
+Bob snipped a button neatly!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A funny Son of sunny Greece
+Was standing near the curb,
+Beside his push-cart, wrapped in peace,
+That naught could well disturb
+
+But all at once he got a shock--
+The Go-cart speeding down,
+Collided with his fancy stock
+And littered up the town!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The runaway then swerved a bit
+And snapped a Hydrant, short;
+Which accident proved quite a hit
+Of rather novel sort
+
+The Water spouted in a jet
+As much as ten feet high,
+And all were soaked and nearly choked
+Who chanced to be nearby!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A farmer's wife, Miss' Angy Moore,
+Was trudging up the grade.
+A basketful of eggs she bore
+To barter with in trade
+
+The Go-cart and the Lady met
+(Informally, no doubt)
+And made a sort of omelette
+And spread it round about!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A Painter on a ladder perched,
+Was working at his calling--
+Against its foot the Go-cart lurched
+And sent the fellow sprawling
+
+His pot of paint came tumbling down
+And wrong side up, it settled
+About a Chappie's flaxen crown--
+Oh, my! but he was nettled!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A German Band across the street
+Its way was slowly wending,
+Which was a movement indiscreet,
+The way that things were tending
+
+The Go-cart struck the bass drum square,
+And passed completely through it.
+The Drummer madly tore his hair
+And said, "Vy did you do it?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Some Workingmen were putting in
+A heavy plate-glass front.
+The Go-cart then came rushing in
+And did its little stunt
+
+It smashed to bits a crystal pane
+Two sweating men were bearing,
+And sped on down the slanting plane
+And left them mad and swearing!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+An automobile big and brown
+Was chugging up the hill,
+And met the Go-cart plunging down
+With speed that boded ill
+
+At once there rose a noise and din
+Of people in dismay.
+A Sandwich-man then butted in
+And opened up a way!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A Lad was rushing with a Hat
+Some Lady had been buying--
+The Go-cart caught--and laid him flat,
+And sent the hat-box flying
+
+The Hat fell out and settled down
+Upon our Bobby's head.
+"Say, I'm the swellest kid in town!"
+The precious rascal said
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A Newsboy next was somehow hit--
+The Go-cart, swift and dextrous,
+Contrived to muss him up a bit
+And fill the air with extras
+
+One copy Bobby neatly scooped,
+And saw this wild display,
+In type so bold it fairly whooped:
+"A GO-CART BREAKS AWAY!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Then as the Go-cart speeded by,
+A Bulldog, quite pugnacious,
+Seized on the handle on the fly
+And clung with grip tenacious
+
+The Go-cart's speed was so increased
+The Dog streamed out behind it,
+And Bobby turned to pet the beast
+Which didn't seem to mind it!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Perambulating down the street
+Was Miss Lucile O'Grady--
+The Go-cart knocked her off her feet
+And took on board the Lady
+
+"Your fare!" said Bobby, with a shout,
+One chubby hand extending.
+But Miss O'Grady tumbled out
+With shrieks the heavens rending
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A Herder up the weary grade
+A yearling Calf was leading.
+The creature was a stubborn jade
+And lunged about, unheeding
+
+The Go-cart caught the rope midway
+Between the Calf and Herder,
+And both fell in behind the shay
+With cries of "Ba-a!" and "Murder!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Two Chappies at a tennis meet
+Were battling fast and hard--
+The Go-cart skidded off the street
+And shot across the yard
+
+The game was "forty all," but then
+It didn't end that day--
+The Go-cart dashed into the net
+And carried it away!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+On came the Go-cart down the grade
+(The town was now behind it)
+And ran into an orchard's shade
+Where Providence resigned it!
+
+But then it only grazed a tree
+And set it all a-shiver;
+The ripened fruit fell merrily
+And likewise Sammy Sliver!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Then through a Watermelon patch
+This awful cart descended,
+And split the melons by the batch--
+The Farmer was offended
+
+And tried to stop its wild career,
+Which was a silly notion--
+It passed him promptly to the rear
+With quite a rapid motion!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A Picnic Party on the green
+Were seated at their lunch--
+The Go-cart dashed upon the scene
+And through the happy bunch!
+
+Sardines and pickles, ham and cake,
+Were jumbled in a mess,
+Then straightway rose these Picnickers
+And shouted for redress!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+An Artist sketching on the slope
+A lively air was humming,
+And so absorbed was he, he failed
+To note the Go-cart coming
+
+A crash! The circumambient air
+Was filled with miscellany,
+And damaged quite beyond repair
+Was Cremnitz White Mulvaney!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A Damsel milked a brindled Cow
+Out in a pasture green,
+The Birdies sang from bush and bough--
+All Nature was serene
+
+When suddenly a thunderbolt
+Dispelled the sweet illusion--
+The Go-cart gave the twain a jolt,
+And all was wild confusion!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Upon a rustic bridge a Chap
+Cast out a bait inviting,
+And presently he took a nap
+And dreamed the fish were biting
+
+Then came the Go-cart like a gale
+And rudely him awakened--
+At first he thought he'd caught a whale,
+But found he was mistaken!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The longest night must have an end
+As well as a beginning;
+And so this Cart, you may depend,
+Was bound to cease its spinning
+
+It crashed into a hemlock Stump
+That chanced to block its way,
+And Bobby made a flying jump
+And landed in the hay!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg17374.txt

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+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Curtis Weyant, Sankar Viswanathan, and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+(This file was produced from images generously made
+available by Cornell University Digital Collections)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                              Bank of the
+                               Manhattan
+                                Company
+
+
+                                ORIGIN
+                                HISTORY
+                               PROGRESS
+
+
+
+                            40 Wall Street
+                               New York
+
+
+        [Illustration: PRESENT OFFICE OF THE MANHATTAN COMPANY
+                           40-42 WALL STREET
+   Building erected jointly in 1884 by the Manhattan Company and the
+                       Merchants' National Bank]
+
+
+
+
+
+                                 BANK
+                                OF THE
+                           MANHATTAN COMPANY
+
+
+                            CHARTERED 1799
+
+
+                     A PROGRESSIVE COMMERCIAL BANK
+
+
+
+
+
+                [Illustration: CHIEF OF THE MANHATTANS]
+
+
+
+                            40 WALL STREET
+                               NEW YORK
+
+
+[Illustration: Common Seal]
+
+On May 8th, 1799, the Committee of By-Laws reported "that they had
+devised a common seal for the Corporation, the description of which is
+as follows:
+
+"Oceanus, one of the sea Gods, sitting in a reclining posture on a
+rising ground pouring water from an urn which forms a river and
+terminates in a lake. On the exergue will be inscribed 'Seal of the
+Manhattan Company.'"
+
+
+There are nine banks now in existence whose history reaches back into
+the Eighteenth Century. Of these, two are in Massachusetts, two in
+Connecticut, one in Pennsylvania, one in Delaware, one in Maryland and
+two in New York.
+
+Corporate banking in New York began with the organization of the Bank of
+New York by Alexander Hamilton in 1784, which received its charter in
+1792. For fifteen years this bank, together with the New York branch of
+the first Bank of the United States, were the only banks doing business
+in either the City or State of New York. With Hamilton and the Federals
+in control of the Legislature, new bank charters were unobtainable. This
+monopoly of banking facilities in the City and State was of great
+strategic value to the political party in control, and naturally aroused
+jealousy and resentment among the members of the opposition, whose
+leader was Aaron Burr.
+
+[Illustration: EXCERPT FROM CHARTER]
+
+In 1798 New York City suffered from a severe yellow fever epidemic,
+which was attributed to an inadequate and inferior water supply. Upon
+the assembling of the Legislature in 1799, an association of
+individuals, among whom Aaron Burr was the moving spirit, applied for a
+charter for the purpose of "supplying the City of New York with pure and
+wholesome water." With a capital of $2,000,000, the project was an
+ambitious one for those days, and, as there was considerable uncertainty
+about the probable cost of the water system, a clause was inserted in
+the charter, permitting the Company to employ all surplus capital in the
+purchase of public or other stock or in any other monied transactions or
+operations, not inconsistent with the constitution and laws of New York
+or of the United States.
+
+A great effort was made to defeat the charter on account of this clause
+granting the Company banking privileges. But the necessity for a proper
+water system, which could be procured only by the organization of a
+responsible company with large capital, carried it through the
+Legislature and it received the Governor's signature.
+
+[Illustration: FORM OF EARLY STOCK CERTIFICATE]
+
+The Bill was passed April 2d, 1799, and by April 22d books were opened
+for public subscription to the $2,000,000 Capital Stock of the Manhattan
+Company, the par value of which was $50. These original books are still
+in the possession of the Company, and contain the signatures of many of
+the prominent men of the time. By May 15th the entire amount had been
+subscribed by several thousand persons--the City of New York having
+taken 2,000 of the shares. The Charter provided that the Recorder of the
+city should be _ex-officio_ a director of the Company, a provision which
+was in effect for 108 years, until the abolition of the office in 1907.
+
+[Illustration: SUBSCRIPTIONS OF DIRECTORS
+Reproduced from original subscription book]
+
+[Illustration: OATH OF FIRST PRESIDENT]
+
+
+
+
+THE WATER SYSTEM
+
+At the first meeting of the Directors, held at the house of Edward
+Barden, Innkeeper, on April 11th, 1799, the following Directors were
+present:
+
+DANIEL LUDLOW,
+JOHN WATTS,
+JOHN B. CHURCH,
+BROCKHOLST LIVINGSTON,
+WILLIAM LAIGHT,
+PASCAL N. SMITH,
+SAMUEL OSGOOD,
+JOHN STEVENS,
+JOHN B. COLES,
+JOHN BROOME,
+AARON BURR, and
+RICHARD HARRISON,
+Recorder of the City of New York,
+Ex. Officio,
+
+the only absentee being William Edgar.
+
+Daniel Ludlow was chosen President, and the following minute was made:
+
+     The principal object of this incorporation being to obtain a
+     supply of pure and wholesome water for the City of New York.
+
+     RESOLVED that Samuel Osgood, John B. Coles and John
+     Stevens be a committee to report with all convenient speed
+     the best means to be pursued to obtain such supply.
+
+[Illustration: OLD WOODEN WATER MAINS]
+
+On May 6th, 1799, the water committee was empowered "to contract for as
+many pine logs as they may think necessary for pipes and also for boring
+the same."
+
+[Illustration: Contemporary Cartoon]
+
+A number of wells were sunk, reservoirs and tanks built, and the
+distributing system extended generally through the city south of City
+Hall.
+
+About 1836 the system was extended north along Broadway as far as
+Bleecker Street, and at that time the company had about twenty-five
+miles of mains and supplied 2,000 houses.
+
+[Illustration: MANHATTAN COMPANY RESERVOIR ON CHAMBERS STREET]
+
+While the water was said to be "wholesome," its quality did not give
+entire satisfaction, as may be seen from the muddiness of the water in
+the glass held by "Pure Manhattan" in the contemporary cartoon
+reproduced on the opposite page.
+
+Over one of the earliest wells, at the corner of Reade and Center
+Streets, a tank of iron plates was erected. This tank is now inclosed in
+an old-fashioned building which is still owned by the Manhattan Company.
+
+The Company continued to operate its water service until about the time
+the Croton system was completed in 1842.
+
+[Illustration: OLD WATER GATE DUG UP IN PARK ROW IN 1900]
+
+
+
+
+FOUNDING AND EARLY HISTORY OF THE BANK
+
+On April 17, 1799, a committee of the Directors was appointed
+
+     "to consider the most proper means of employing the capital
+     of the Company."
+
+The committee reported on June 3, 1799, in favor of opening an office of
+discount and deposit, and a house was bought on the site of the present
+No. 40 Wall Street, in which, on September 1, 1799, the "Bank" of the
+Manhattan Company began business.
+
+The following is one of the earliest advertisements, reproduced from the
+Mercantile Advertiser, October 9, 1799:
+
+    MANHATTAN COMPANY.
+
+    The Office of Discount and Deposit will open for the
+    transaction of business, for the present, at 10 o'clock in
+    the forenoon, and continue open until 3 o'clock in the
+    afternoon, when the business of the day will be closed.
+
+    HENRY REMSEN, Cashier.
+
+    September 24.
+
+[Illustration: WALL STREET IN 1803
+Present No. 40 Wall Street]
+
+The first action of the Directors after the opening of the Bank was:
+
+     RESOLVED, That this Board will hereafter meet twice
+     a week, to wit, on Mondays and Thursdays of each week, at 11
+     o'clock.
+
+The policy of semi-weekly meetings still prevails in the Manhattan
+Company, and its Board of twelve Directors keeps in close touch with all
+its affairs.
+
+[Illustration: MANHATTAN COMPANY CURRENCY]
+
+Two months after the Bank was opened the Directors
+
+     RESOLVED, That a committee be appointed to visit
+     the vaults and examine the cash and look over the effects of
+     the Manhattan Company deposited therein.
+
+Thus, at the outset, the Manhattan Company required its Directors
+periodically to examine its cash and securities, a safeguard which, 106
+years later, the State of New York made compulsory for all State banking
+institutions.
+
+The Bank of the Manhattan Company was profitable from the start and
+commenced paying dividends in July 1800. The total dividends to and
+including January, 1913, have aggregated $19,726,000.
+
+[Illustration: FRACTIONAL CURRENCY USED IN UTICA]
+
+Although the main office of the Bank has always been at the present No.
+40 Wall Street, in the autumn of 1805 all the banks moved temporarily to
+the Village of Greenwich to escape the usual autumn fever epidemic. The
+Directors then determined to provide a country office for use during the
+"sickly season." Many persons offered sites; among them "Mr. Astor
+proposed verbally to cede eight lots of ground near Greenwich, being
+part of his purchase from Gov. Clinton." Finally land was acquired
+between the "Bowery Road" and the East River. From 1809 to 1819
+branches of the Bank were maintained in Utica and Poughkeepsie.
+
+In 1805 negotiations were consummated for a "union of the capitals and
+interests" of the New York State Bank of Albany and the Manhattan
+Company. A bill authorizing the consolidation was offered in the
+Legislature, but it failed to pass, and the plan was abandoned.
+
+In 1808 the Legislature, in enacting certain amendments to the Charter
+of the Manhattan Company, reserved for the State the right to take 1,000
+shares of its capital stock. This right was exercised and the capital
+stock was increased for the purpose from $2,000,000 to $2,050,000. Both
+the State and the City of New York are still stockholders, this being
+the only bank stock which the State holds.
+
+In 1833, as shown in the cartoon reproduced on the following page, the
+Manhattan Company was one of the banks to receive the Government
+deposits when they were withdrawn from the second United States Bank by
+President Jackson.
+
+[Illustration: Published and for sale wholesale and retail by A Imbert
+at his Caricature Store No 106 Broadway]
+
+
+
+
+PRESENT ORGANIZATION AND POLICY OF THE BANK
+
+In 1853 the Manhattan Company became one of the original members of the
+New York Clearing House Association, and stands, in order of seniority,
+No. 2 on its roll.
+
+From 1853 down to 1880, the Manhattan Company's deposits averaged
+between $3,000,000 and $5,000,000. The deposits doubled during the
+eighties, again during the nineties, and again in the decade ending
+1910. This growth has been made along healthy and normal lines, and not
+by absorbing or consolidating with other banking institutions. The fact
+that the Manhattan Company is an entirely independent institution has
+doubtless assisted its growth in recent years.
+
+The steady increase in both the deposits and the surplus of the
+Manhattan Company is evidence of its vitality, its sound banking
+traditions and its ability to keep its methods so modernized as to give
+efficient service to its widening circle of clients. To meet both its
+own needs and those of its commercial and banking patrons, well
+organized credit and foreign exchange departments are maintained.
+
+[Illustration: Building of the Manhattan Company
+WALL STREET IN 1860]
+
+The Manhattan Company, acting as the reserve agent of many State banks
+and trust companies throughout the country, has a substantial volume of
+bank deposits. But it was originally established as an "Office of
+Discount and Deposit," and is today primarily a commercial bank, seeking
+the active accounts of merchants and manufacturers and extending them
+accommodation in keeping with their credit and standing, for which the
+diversified character of its deposits has always provided ample funds.
+
+
+IRVING PRESS
+119 and 121 East Thirty-first Street
+New York
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Bank of the Manhattan Company, by Anonymous
+
+
+

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+
+
+
+This eBook was produced by David Garcia and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
+images generously made available by The Kentuckiana Digital Library).
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                                Mr. Bamboo
+                                 _and the_
+                           Honorable Little God
+
+
+                             A Christmas Story
+
+
+
+
+                           _Fannie C. Macaulay_
+                 _Author of "The Lady of The Decoration"_
+
+
+
+
+                             _By Courtesy of_
+                     _The Century Publishing Company_
+                                   _to_
+                  _Louisville Kindergarten Alumnae Club_
+
+
+
+
+
+
+MR. BAMBOO AND THE HONORABLE LITTLE GOD
+
+
+During sundry long and lonely evenings in a Japanese mission school,
+a young native teacher sought to while away the hours for a homesick
+exile. She was girlish and fair, with the soft voice and gentle,
+indescribable charm characteristic of the women of her race. Her tales
+were of the kindergarten, happenings in her life and the lives of
+others, and I have sought to set them down as she told them to me in
+her quaint, broken English. But they miss the earnest eyes and dramatic
+gestures of the little story-teller as she sat in the glow of the
+hibachi fire, with a background of paper doors, with shadow pictures
+of pine-trees and bamboo etched by the moonlight, the far-off song of
+a nightingale, and the air sweet with incense from nearby shrines.
+
+He wear name of Tãke Nishimura, which in English say' Mr. Bamboo of the
+West Village. He most funny little boy in my kindergarten class. But he
+have such sweet heart. It all time speaking out nice thoughtfuls through
+his big round eyes, which no seem like Japanese eyes of long and narrow.
+
+His so much slim of body make him look like baby. But his mama say' he
+been here four years. She nice lady and loving mother. One more thing
+why that child's most funny small enfant. He have papa who is great
+general of war, with big spirit. Tãke Chan fixed idea in his head he's
+just same kind big warrior man. He use same walk and the same command
+of speak.
+
+This time I relate you about was most Christmas-time. I tell story to
+children of long time ago, when big star say to all worlds Christ baby
+lay in manger, and I say soon we celebrate joyful day in kindergarten.
+That little Tãke Chan never hear 'bout it before, and he get look in
+his face same as John boy in picture what always have crooked stick
+in his hand, and he speak this word: "A new God? Will He be our guest
+on feast-day?"
+
+We learn song 'bout star and cradle and 'gain he speak his thought.
+He say: "What is cradle, Sensei? I know 'bout star. Every night at my
+honorable home I open shoji to see old priest strike bell and make him
+sing. Then I see big star hang out light over topmost of mountain." One
+more time he say, like thinking to himself: "Cradle. Maybe him shrine
+for new God of foreign country."
+
+I know English for long time, but Japanese childs never know cradle.
+It have not come to this land.
+
+Christmas-story was telled many times, for children like to hear about
+it. When I say this time, on that day we get pine-tree and dress him
+up with many gifts, Tãke Chan clap his hands and say: "Banzai! We make
+offering of tree to new God."
+
+Sometimes many troubles press my mind how I make childs know much
+difference of real God, which he never see, and those wooden-stones we
+see all time with burning of lights before them and leaves of bamboo
+and pine.
+
+We work very hard all days before morning of Christmas-tree, but not one
+child in whole class could make things such fast as Tãke Chan. His hands
+so small they look 'most like bird-foots hopping round quick in flower
+garden when he construct ornaments of bright color. Sometimes he have
+look of tired in his face, and bad coughs take his throat. For which,
+if I did not know 'bout Christmas-story and all other many things like
+that, I would have a thought that fox spirit was industrious to enter
+his body.
+
+Then I mention, "Go play in garden", for I know well how he have like
+of play in lovely garden of his home, where, with body of bare, he race
+big dragon-flies what paint the summer air all gold and blue. But Tãke
+Chan makes the laughs for me when looks so firmly and say: "No. I have
+the busy to make ready for honorable guest coming on feast-day of
+Christman." All times he not singing he talk 'bout what big welcome we
+give to new God.
+
+Ah, that little boy! I can no' make him have the right understand';
+but he walk right into my heart, and give me the joyful of love and
+much sad.
+
+No, I never forget that Christmas day. It makes of my mind a canvas and
+paints pictures on it what will never wash away nor burn.
+
+In morning, sun 'most so slow climbing over mountain as snail creeping
+up Fuji. He get big surprise when his eye come into kindergarten window
+and find me very busy for a long time.
+
+All teachers have many works, and very soon they turn their playroom
+into lovely feast-place. Paper flowers and ornaments which childrens
+build with hands, and red berries they bring from forest, have
+expression same as growing from walls and windows. Same thought as all
+teachers to give the happy to glad Christmas-day. Many Japanese childs
+is just getting news of this birthday.
+
+Quick we put piano where it can sing best, chairs all in circle. Big
+spot in middle for tree, which comes at very last from that other room.
+
+While I work postman bring long box from foreign country, which one
+teacher open. It had gift for kindergarten. It was such beautiful thing.
+Many childrens never see same as this before. All teachers give quick
+decide to make secret of present, and put on Christmas-tree as big
+surprise.
+
+In very middle of most happy time by opening box, idea arrive in my
+mind. Wonder if those coughs permission Tãke Chan to come kindergarten
+that day? One desire knock very loud at my heart for that little Bamboo
+boy to know rightly 'bout Christ-child. I know for surely. Once I go to
+foreign country, and my life have experience of seventeen. But Japanese
+child of now must see God and everything.
+
+Then glad thought come. If Tãke Chan do not make absence this day, his
+own eye will tell him trulier than stiff speech of tongue that cradle is
+not shrine, and Christ child not blazon image of wooden stone, but great
+spirit of invisible which have much love for childrens. I learn those
+words out of book, but meaning come out my own heart, which I have the
+difficult to give childs.
+
+Beginning time for morning march grow very near. Him not come, and the
+anxious so restless my body I run to big gate and view round and up.
+
+Narrow street which walk by kindergarten house most lovely picture than
+all other countries of universe. It have many trimmings of flags and
+banners for greeting soon coming of New-Year. Even old plum-trees have
+happy to break pink flowers out full, and lay on gray roof to look at
+bright sun. The big love of my heart for this Japanese country make me
+so delightful I have little forget 'bout late of Tãke Chan till I hear
+spank of many feet on hard earth. I look, and see one of those pictures
+which never melt off my mind. That sound of feet belong' to soldiers
+company, and so quick they stop in long line and hold all hands to hat
+for salute, I think maybe Oyama San coming. I give piercing look, and my
+eyes see marching straight by those big mens a speck of blue all trimmed
+with gold braid. It was Tãke Chan. Same war clothes as his papa, even
+same number stripes on his sleeve, and twelve inch' of sword on his
+side, which make song on heel of shoe when they walk. Father's two
+soldiers servants walk close behind Tãke Chan, and in smiles. Everybody
+know that little boy, and everybody love his earnest. I have several
+feelings when he walk up to me and say: "New guest have he come? I make
+ready to welcome with new clothes."
+
+Ah, me! I have the yearn to convey the right understand'; but he look so
+glad to give the welcome, and his war clothes so grand, the feeble fell
+on my heart. I not give correction.
+
+One servant say: "Last night Tãke Chan very sick with evil spirit cough.
+Mama say rest at home, but he say this great feast-day for new God.
+He must for certain come and offer pine-tree and have song and march."
+I hurry away with Tãke Chan, and take seat on circle of kindergarten room.
+A feel of anxious press' hard. First we have grand parade, and that
+little soldier boy in blue in front of all children have atmosphere same
+he was marching before emperor. My keen of eye see all time he have
+fight with swallow in his throat. After march come song 'bout cradle and
+star, but big cough catch Tãke Chan in middle, and when the strangle had
+left and tears of hot had wipe way, he heard childrens saying amen to
+prayer. His red lip have little shake, for he have great pride to say
+that prayer faster than any childs. He have hospitable of soul, too.
+But Tãke Chan son of great general of war, and he never cry, even though
+much disappoint' come to his mind. I was hunting speech to give him the
+comfort of heart when children give sound with mouth like storm breeze
+hurrying through leaves. I look. Where door of other room always lived
+was most beautiful Christmas-tree of any world, all light with flaming
+candles and gold and silver balls. On very tip-most top the lovely big
+surprise from foreign country. It wore dress of spangly stars and white.
+Big brown eyes and hair like rice-straw when sun shines through it.
+It held out welcome arms. Every move of tree give sway to body. I know
+trulier, but surely, it have look of real life. Teacher rolled tree
+to middle of room in bare spot, which made glad to have it. Children
+laughed and clapped hands happy of that day, and call' many funny
+sayings. I forget the anxious in my happy of that day, and turn with
+glad eye on Tãke Chan. Bamboo boy. Never I see such wonderful thing
+as the glory. First he see only it, and give low tight whisper, "The
+Offering." His eye fly to tip of top. He lean' way over like his body
+break with eager. Joyful speech come with long sigh, "Ah--the guest
+he is come!" For one minute room very still, and just same as fairy
+give him enchantment Tãke Chan rose from floor till he come right under
+tree. Other childrens make such merries. They have thought it play.
+But all sounds and peoples passes away from my vision. Nothing left
+but picture of one small blue soldier looking up through blazon flames
+of Christmas-tree to shining thing above. His cheeks so full of red with
+fighting cough, eyes so bright with wet of tears, he fold his hands
+for prayer, and soft like pigeon talking with mate he speak: "O most
+Honorable Little God! How splendid! You are real; come live with me. In
+my garden I am a soldier; I'll show you the dragon-flies and the river.
+Please will you come?" My heart have pause of beat. I think fever give
+Tãke Chan's mind delirious. Quick I uncement my feet from floor to go to
+him. "Tahke Chan," I say with lovely voice, "that is not a God nor even
+image. Listen: it's only a big foreign doll which postman bring this
+morning as great surprise from America. Teacher put it up high so all
+childs could see it. Look what kindergarten give you--most beautiful
+kite, like dragon-fly you love more better. Come rest in your chair.
+We sing."
+
+Ah, that little play soldier! Door of his ear all shut to my every speak
+of love. He just stand with eyes uplift' and plead: "Please come play
+with me. I know your song 'bout cradle and star. And I can march. See."
+But his body rock from each side to other. Then I press my arms round
+and whisper with much tender: "I bring doll home with you." He look 'way
+up high on Christmas-tree, then he leave his conscious in kindergarten
+room.
+
+Me and two soldier servants convey Tãke Chan and foreign doll to his
+home. I stay in honorable house with them. One day go by, and 'nother
+night come. Sick boy's mama have look of ivory lady as she rest her
+tired, and maid girl make tea. I watch by side of bed on floor. Big ache
+in heart clutch' me when I look round room and see blue soldier's suit
+hang' near. It have look of empty and lonely, dragon-fly kite in corner
+have broken wing. But when I bring gaze back Tãke Chan, loveliest sight
+of all visit me. That little child reach out and find hand of foreign
+doll. He hold very tight, and give it look of love. Such heaven light
+come on his face! I suspend my breath and listen to his low speech which
+come in broken pieces: "You are my Tomidachi. Do not go; I soon be well
+I come play in your garden. Dragon-flies--cradle--star--Ah, Little
+God--you grow so big!"
+
+Something made me open shoji quick. Old priest make bell sing. Lovely
+star hangs its light over mountain. All things have great stillness. Not
+even leaf tremble in white moonlight. Strange feel hold me. Then I know
+Tãke Chan have gone to play in Christ-child's garden.
+
+Ah, me! Tears of my heart are many for that little Bamboo. But I have
+the joyful too; Now he have the right understand'.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg17764.txt

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+
+
+
+
+
+[Transcribers note: This project has some lovely illustrations that are
+best enjoyed by viewing the HTML edition.]
+
+King Winter
+
+Published by
+Gustav W. Seitz
+Hamburg.
+
+ENTP at Stationer's Hall
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The sky is dull and grey,
+Piercing and chill the blast,
+Each step resounds on the frosty ground,
+Winter is come at last.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mamma sits by the fire
+Her little ones round her knees.
+"How cosy we are, Mamma," they cry,
+"Tell us something, if you please."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Tell us about King Winter,
+And about Jack Frost, his man;
+We'll not be noisy or naughty at all,
+But as good as ever we can."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Well then;" says mamma, "you, Jenny,
+May knit and listen, my dear;
+And Johnny may split up wood, to make
+The fire burn bright and clear."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+King Winter dwells in the North;
+Far away in the Frozen Zone,
+In a palace of snow he holds his court,
+And sits on an icy throne.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He has cushions of course: his Queen
+Made them out of her wedding gown.
+Stuffing them well with snowflakes fine,
+And soft as eiderdown.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The King has a trusty servant,
+Jack Frost is his name; his nose
+Is raspberry red, his beard is white,
+And stiff as a crutch it grows.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Old Jack is a sturdy good fellow,
+And serves their Majesties well;
+He's here and he's there, and he's everywhere,
+And does more than I can tell.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Each year, as the day comes round,
+The king and his royal train
+Set off on a tour through the wide wide world,
+And sweep over mountain and plain.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+His Majesty fails not to visit
+Every clime that's not too hot,
+To look in upon both high and low,
+From the palace down to the cot.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Jack Frost has a busy time then,
+But he's helped and advised by the Queen,
+That all may be right when the King goes forth,
+And everything fit to be seen.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+That the King may have pleasant travel,
+And no stone hurt his royal toe,
+Her Majesty spreads all over the earth,
+A carpet of downy snow.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Fine mirrors the King delights in:
+None are finer than Jack can make:
+And in matchless sheets of crystal clear
+He lays them on river and lake.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The trees, all naked and drear,
+He robes in the purest white,
+And with icicles shining with rainbow hues,
+He makes their branches bright.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+And for want of buds and blossoms
+To strew in his Majesty's way,
+With magic flowers of his own device
+He makes the windows gay.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+These wonders wrought in a single night
+May well excite surprise;
+Amazed is the sun when he gets up at dawn,
+And he stares with all his eyes.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Then out come all the boys and girls,
+Jack's handiwork to view,
+And their noses and cheeks turn red with cold,
+Some of them even turn blue.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+They pelt each other with snow,
+Roll it up in a mighty ball,
+And shout and laugh and scamper about,
+And heels over head they fall.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+They make a huge man of snow,
+As grand as a Russian Czar,
+A wooden sword in his hand, in his mouth,
+A carrot to serve for cigar.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+His eyes, his hair, and his beard,
+They paint as black as my shoe
+With burnt stick, but they spoil his nose,
+For they stick it rather askew.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Then what do you think? For a cockshot
+They take him; they pelt him and hit;
+They knock of the snowman's ears and nose,
+But he does not mind it a bit.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Hurrah! for the good thick ice.
+Oh! isn't it jolly? They slide,
+They skate, and in sleighs so fine they go,
+And swift as the wind they glide.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+King Winter laughs at the sport,
+Cries "Bravo!" and claps his hands,
+And calling in haste for his man, Jack Frost,
+He gives him these commands:
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Go see the papas and mammas,
+And bring me word what they say:
+Have the children been good and well behaved,
+Since last I came this way?"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The King trims Christmas trees,
+To give to good girls and boys,
+With tapers and trinkets of silver and gold,
+And all sorts of dainties and toys.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Queen cuts twigs of birch,
+Of birch so supple and keen,
+And daintily ties them up into rods
+The finest that ever were seen.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Soon with this word to the King
+Jack Frost comes back at a trot:
+"Good have most of the children been,
+But some of them have not."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The King gives him the pretty trees,
+The Queen the rods so smart,
+And away goes Jack again with his load,
+Till every house has its part.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Cakes, mince-pies nuts and apples,
+Good children get from the King.
+You can guess what the naughty get,
+The rods are the only thing.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Oh dear mamma," cries Jenny,
+"Johnny's been good, and so have I!
+Pray tell Jack Frost we don't want the rod,
+Oh! do ask him to put it by."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Mamma smiles on her darlings,
+They run to her, kiss her, and say:
+"How long do you think will it be, Mamma,
+Ere King Winter goes away?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"He will lay upon Baby's cradle
+The snowdrops that early come forth;
+And then, my dears, he will bid us good bye
+And go back to his home in the North."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+

book_for_reading/book_text/pg17825.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,337 @@
+
+
+
+E-text prepared by David Garcia, Sjaani, and the Project Gutenberg Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/) from page images
+generously made available by Kentuckiana Digital Library
+(http://kdl.kyvl.org/)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 17825-h.htm or 17825-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/8/2/17825/17825-h/17825-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/8/2/17825/17825-h.zip)
+      
+      Images of the original pages are available through the Electronic
+      Text Collection of Kentuckiana Digital Library. See
+      http://kdl.kyvl.org/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=kyetexts;cc=kyetexts;xc=1&idno=B92-277-32008329&view=toc
+
+
+
+
+
+THE LEGEND OF THE BLEEDING-HEART
+
+by
+
+ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON
+
+Author of "The Little Colonel Series," "Big
+Brother," "Joel: A Boy of Galilee,"
+"Keeping Tryst," etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Olga, holding it in the hollow of
+her hands, offered him the water.]
+
+
+
+
+Boston
+L. C. Page & Company
+1907
+Copyright, 1900
+By L. C. Page & Company
+(Incorporated)
+Copyright, 1907
+By L. C. Page & Company
+(Incorporated)
+All rights reserved
+First Impression, July, 1907
+Colonial Press
+Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
+Boston, U. S. A.
+
+
+
+
+IN MEMORY
+OF THE ONES THAT GREW
+SO LONG AGO,
+IN OLD "Aunt Nancy's" GARDEN.
+
+
+
+
+The Legend of the Bleeding-heart
+
+
+
+
+In days of old, when all things in the Wood had speech, there lived
+within its depths a lone Flax-spinner. She was a bent old creature, and
+ill to look upon, but all the tongues of all the forest leaves were ever
+kept a-wagging with the story of her kindly deeds. And even to this day
+they sometimes whisper low among themselves (because they fain would
+hold in mind so sweet a tale) the story of her kindness to the little
+orphan, Olga.
+
+'Twas no slight task the old Flax-spinner took upon herself, the day she
+brought the helpless child to share the shelter of her thatch. The Oak
+outside her door held up his arms in solemn protest.
+
+"Thou dost but waste thyself," he said. "Thy benefits will be forgot,
+thy labours unrequited. For Youth is ever but another title for
+Ingratitude."
+
+"Nay, friend," the old Flax-spinner said. "My little Olga will not be
+ungrateful and forgetful."
+
+All hedged about with loving care, the orphan grew to gracious
+maidenhood, and felt no lack of father, mother, brother or sister. In
+every way the old Flax-spinner took their places. But many were the
+sacrifices that she made to keep her fed and warmly clad, and every time
+she went without herself that Olga might receive a greater share,
+Wiseacre Oak looked down and frowned and shook his head.
+
+Then would the old dame hasten to her inner room, and there she pricked
+herself with her spindle, until a great red drop of her heart's blood
+fell into her trembling hand. With witchery of words she blew upon it,
+and rolled it in her palm, and muttering, turned and turned and turned
+it. And as the spell was laid upon it, it shrivelled into a tiny round
+ball like a seed, and she strung it on a thread where were many others
+like it, saying, "By this she will remember. She will not be ungrateful
+and forgetful."
+
+So years went by, and Olga grew in goodness and in beauty, and helped
+the old Flax-spinner in her tasks as blithely and as willingly as if
+she were indeed her daughter. Every morning she brought water from the
+spring, gathered the wild fruits of the woods, and spread the linen on
+the grass to bleach. At such times would the bent old foster-mother hold
+herself erect, and call up to the Oak, "Dost see? Thou'rt wrong! Youth
+is _not_ another title for Ingratitude."
+
+"Thou hast not lived as long as I," would be the only answer.
+
+One day as Olga was wandering by the spring, searching for watercresses,
+the young Prince of the castle rode by on his prancing charger. A
+snow-white plume waved in his hat, and a shining silver bugle hung from
+his shoulder, for he had been following the chase.
+
+He was thirsty and tired, and asked for a drink, but there was no cup
+with which to dip the water from the spring. But Olga caught the drops
+as they bubbled out from the spring, holding them in the hollow of her
+beautiful white hands, and reaching up to where he sat, offered him the
+sparkling water. So gracefully was it done, that the Prince was charmed
+by her modest manner as well as her lovely face, and baring his head
+when he had slaked his thirst, he touched the white hands with his lips.
+
+Before he rode away he asked her name and where she lived. The next day
+a courier in scarlet and gold stopped at the door of the cottage and
+invited Olga to the castle. Princesses and royal ladies from all over
+the realm were to be entertained there, seven days and seven nights.
+Every night a grand ball was to be given, and Olga was summoned to each
+of the balls. It was because of her pleasing manner and her great
+beauty that she had been bidden.
+
+The old Flax-spinner courtesied low to the courier and promised that
+Olga should be at the castle without fail.
+
+"But, good dame," cried Olga, when the courier had gone, "prithee tell
+me why thou didst make such a promise, knowing full well this gown of
+tow is all I own. Wouldst have me stand before the Prince in beggar's
+garb? Better to bide at home for aye than be put to shame before such
+guests."
+
+"Have done, my child!" the old dame said. "Thou shalt wear a court robe
+of the finest. Years have I toiled to have it ready, but that is naught.
+I loved thee as my own."
+
+Then once more the old Flax-spinner went into her inner room, and
+pricked herself with her spindle till another great red drop of her
+heart's blood fell into her trembling hand. With witchery of words she
+blew upon it, and rolled it in her palm, and muttering, turned and
+turned and turned it. And as the spell was laid upon it, it shrivelled
+into a tiny round ball like a seed, and she strung it on to a thread,
+where were many others like it. Seventy times seven was the number of
+beads on this strange rosary.
+
+When the night of the first ball rolled around, Olga combed her long
+golden hair and twined it with a wreath of snowy water-lilies, and then
+she stood before the old dame in her dress of tow. To her wonderment
+and grief she saw there was no silken robe in waiting, only a string of
+beads to clasp around her white throat. Each bead in the necklace was
+like a little shrivelled seed, and Olga's eyes filled with tears of
+disappointment.
+
+"Obey me and all will be well," said the old woman.
+
+"When thou reachest the castle gate clasp one bead in thy fingers and
+say:
+
+     "'For love's sweet sake, in my hour of need,
+     Blossom and deck me, little seed.'
+
+Straightway right royally shalt thou be clad. But remember carefully the
+charm. Only to the magic words, 'For love's sweet sake' will the
+necklace give up its treasures. If thou shouldst forget, then thou must
+be doomed always to wear thy gown of tow."
+
+So Olga sped on her moon-lighted way through the forest until she came
+to the castle gate. There she paused, and grasping a bead of the strange
+necklace between her fingers, repeated the old dame's charm:
+
+     "For love's sweet sake, in my hour of need,
+     Blossom and deck me, little seed."
+
+Immediately the bead burst with a little puff as if a seed pod had
+snapped asunder. A faint perfume surrounded her, rare and subtle as if
+it had been blown across from some flower of Eden. Olga looked down and
+found herself enveloped in a robe of such delicate texture, that it
+seemed soft as a rose-leaf and as airy as pink clouds that sometimes
+float across the sunset. The water-lilies in her hair had become a
+coronal of opals.
+
+When she entered the great ball-room, the Prince of the castle started
+up from his throne in amazement. Never before had he seen such a vision
+of loveliness. "Surely," said he, "some rose of Paradise hath found a
+soul and drifted earthward to blossom here." And all that night he had
+eyes for none but her.
+
+The next night Olga started again to the castle in her dress of tow, and
+at the gate she grasped the second bead in her fingers, repeating the
+charm. This time the pale yellow of the daffodils seemed to have woven
+itself into a cloth of gold for her adorning. It was like a shimmer of
+moon-beams, and her hair held the diamond flashings of a hundred tiny
+stars.
+
+That night the Prince paid her so many compliments and singled her out
+so often to bestow his favours, that Olga's head was turned. She tossed
+it proudly, and quite scorned the thought of the humble cottage which
+had given her shelter so long. The next day when she had returned to
+her gown of tow and was no longer a haughty court lady, but only Olga,
+the Flax-spinner's maiden, she repined at her lot. Frowning, she carried
+the water from the spring. Frowning, she gathered the cresses and
+plucked the woodland fruit. And then she sat all day by the spring,
+refusing to spread the linen on the grass to bleach.
+
+She was discontented with the old life of toil, and pouted crossly
+because duties called her when she wanted to do nothing but sit idly
+dreaming of the gay court scenes in which she had taken a bright brief
+part. The old Flax-spinner's fingers trembled as she spun, when she saw
+the frowns, for she had given of her heart's blood to buy happiness for
+this maiden she loved, and well she knew there can be no happiness where
+frowns abide. She felt that her years of sacrifice had been in vain, but
+when the Oak wagged his head she called back waveringly, "My little Olga
+will not be ungrateful and forgetful!"
+
+That night outside the castle gate, Olga paused. She had forgotten the
+charm. The day's discontent had darkened her memory as storm-clouds
+darken the sky. But she grasped her necklace imperiously.
+
+"Deck me at once!" she cried in a haughty tone. "Clothe me more
+beautifully than mortal maid was ever clad before, so that I may find
+favour in the Prince's sight and become the bride of the castle! I would
+that I were done for ever with the spindle and the distaff!"
+
+But the moon went under a cloud and the wind began to moan around the
+turrets. The black night hawks in the forest flapped their wings
+warningly, and the black bats flitted low around her head.
+
+"Obey me at once!" she cried angrily, stamping her foot and jerking at
+the necklace. But the string broke, and the beads went rolling away in
+the darkness in every direction and were lost--all but one, which she
+held clasped in her hand.
+
+Then Olga wept at the castle gate; wept outside in the night and the
+darkness, in her peasant's garb of tow. But after awhile through her
+sobbing, stole the answering sob of the night wind.
+
+"Hush-sh!" it seemed to say. "Sh-sh! Never a heart can come to harm, if
+the lips but speak the old dame's charm."
+
+The voice of the night wind sounded so much like the voice of the old
+Flax-spinner, that Olga was startled and looked around wonderingly. Then
+suddenly she seemed to see the thatched cottage and the bent form of the
+lonely old woman at the wheel. All the years in which the good dame had
+befriended her seemed to rise up in a row, and out of each one called a
+thousand kindnesses as with one voice: "How canst thou forget us, Olga?
+We were done for love's sweet sake, and that alone!"
+
+Then was Olga sorry and ashamed that she had been so proud and
+forgetful, and she wept again. The tears seemed to clear her vision, for
+now she saw plainly that through no power of her own could she wrest
+strange favours from fortune. Only the power of the old charm could make
+them hers. She remembered it then, and holding fast the one bead in her
+hand, she repeated humbly:
+
+     "For love's sweet sake, in my hour of need,
+     Blossom and deck me, little seed."
+
+Lo, as the words left her lips, the moon shone out from behind the
+clouds above the dark forest. There was a fragrance of lilies all
+about, and a gossamer gown floated around her, whiter than the whiteness
+of the fairest lily. It was fine like the finest lace the frost-elves
+weave, and softer than the softest ermine of the snow. On her long
+golden hair gleamed a coronet of pearls.
+
+So beautiful, so dazzling was she as she entered the castle door, that
+the Prince came down to meet her, and kneeling, kissed her hand and
+claimed her as his bride. Then came the bishop in his mitre, and led her
+to the throne, and before them all the Flax-spinner's maiden was married
+to the Prince, and made the Princess Olga.
+
+Then until the seven days and seven nights were done, the revels lasted
+in the castle. And in the merriment the old Flax-spinner was again
+forgotten. Her kindness of the past, her loneliness in the present had
+no part in the thoughts of the Princess Olga.
+
+All night the old Oak, tapping on the thatch, called down, "Thou'rt
+forgotten! Thou'rt forgotten!"
+
+But the beads that had rolled away in the darkness, buried themselves in
+the earth, and took root, and sprang up, as the old woman knew they
+would do. There at the castle gate they bloomed, a strange, strange
+flower, for on every stem hung a row of little bleeding hearts.
+
+One day the Princess Olga, seeing them from her window, went down to
+them in wonderment.
+
+"What do you here?" she cried, for in her forest life she'd learned all
+speech of bird and beast and plant.
+
+"We bloom for love's sweet sake," they answered. "We have sprung from
+the old Flax-spinner's gift--the necklace thou didst break and scatter.
+From her heart's best blood she gave it, and her heart still bleeds to
+think she is forgotten."
+
+Then they began to tell the story of the old dame's sacrifices, all the
+seventy times seven that she had made for the sake of the maiden, and
+Olga grieved as she listened, that she could have been so ungrateful.
+Then she brought the Prince to hear the story of the strange, strange
+flowers, and when he had heard, together they went to the lowly cottage
+and fetched the old Flax-spinner to the castle, there to live out all
+her days in ease and contentment.
+
+"See now," she whispered to the Oak at parting, but sturdily he held his
+ground, persisting, "Thou _wouldst_ have been forgotten, save for that
+miracle of bloom."
+
+_And still the flower we call BLEEDING-HEART blooms on by cottage walls
+and castle gardens, to waken all the world to grateful memories. And
+ever it doth bring to mind the lonely hearts that bleed because they are
+forgotten, and all they sacrificed for love's sweet sake, to give us
+happiness._
+
+
+
+
+