(Adapted for Children, Six to Twelve Years.)
1. HORATIUS AT THE BRIDGE
Once a great army came marching toward a bridge which led into the city of Rome across the river Tiber. “If they cross the bridge, Rome is lost!” cried the white-haired Fathers who made the laws, for the Roman soldiers were too few to meet so great an army. But brave Horatius, one of the men who guarded the bridge, stood forth and shouted, “Tear down the bridge quickly while I and the two men with me keep the enemy back!” Then with their shields before them and their long spears in their hands the three brave men stood in the road and kept back the horsemen who had been sent to take the bridge. The Romans hewed away the beams and posts and soon the bridge trembled and was ready to fall. Horatius sent back his two friends, who had no sooner reached the other side in safety than crash went the bridge, falling into the river with a great splash. Then Horatius knew that Rome was safe. With his face still toward the foe, he moved slowly backward till he stood on the river’s brink. A dart thrown by one of the soldiers struck his left eye and put it out. But, not with a curse, but a prayer on his lips, he leaped into the deep, swift stream. He had his heavy armor on, and when he sank beneath the water no one thought he would ever be seen again. But he was strong, and the best swimmer in Rome. The next minute he arose and swam to the other side amid the shower of darts and javelins from the enemy. At last when his friends pulled him up on the bank, shout after shout went up, not only from the Romans, but also from the enemy on the other bank, for they had never seen a soldier so strong and brave before.
The Romans, in gratitude, gave him as much land as he could plow around in a day, raised a statue in his honor in the public market-place, and ever after to the Roman children,
2. DAMON AND PYTHIAS
Once a young man who had done something that displeased the King, was dragged to prison, and the day set for his death. His home was far away. “Let me go and bid good-bye to my father and mother and friends,” he said to the King, “and I will return and die.” The King laughed and said, “Ah! ah! he wishes to save himself! He would never return!” A young man stepped forward from the crowd, and said: “O King, put me in prison until he returns. I know he will do as he has promised, for he is a man who has never broken his word. If he does not return, I will die for him.”
The King, surprised at such an offer of friendship, agreed. So Pythias went to bid his friends good-bye, and Damon was put in prison. Many days passed. By and by the day arrived for the death of Pythias, and he had not returned. Damon said, “I know something has prevented, or he would be here to keep his word. I am ready to die for him!” The jailer led him out, and was just about to put him to death, when suddenly, far away on the distant road, a cloud of dust was seen growing larger and larger. It was Pythias running, swift as the wind, to keep his promise. He told them how he had been hindered by storm and shipwreck. He thanked his friend again and again for his faith in him. And then giving himself for death into the hands of the jailer, he was led out for execution. “Stop! Stop!” cried the King, “such friends must not suffer unjustly. Pythias shall be free! And I could give all that I possess to have one such true friend!”
3. ANDROCLES AND THE LION
Once a poor slave who was treated cruelly by his master ran away into a forest and hid in a cave. Soon he heard a dreadful roar and saw a lion limping as though his foot hurt. Androcles went close to the lion and saw a sharp thorn was piercing the lion’s paw. He quickly drew the thorn out, and the lion began jumping about him like a kitten, licking the slave’s hands and feet. Androcles and the lion became warm friends and lived like brothers, sharing each other’s food until one day the slave was caught and taken back to his master; and the lion was caught and put into a large cage. In those days any slave who ran away from his master, when caught, must fight a lion kept several days without food. So when the next holiday came, Androcles was put in the great arena with thousands of people crowding its seats to see him die. When all was ready a door in the cage was opened, and out bounded the lion ready to spring upon the poor slave. With a tremendous roar the lion dashed toward him, but to the surprise of all the people, instead of hurting him, the lion crouched down at his feet like a pet dog and began to lick the slave’s hands and feet. The people cried, “O Androcles, what meaneth this?” Then Androcles put his arms around the lion’s neck and said, “O people, in the forest I pulled a thorn out of this lion’s foot, and that is why he does not hurt me now.” The people were delighted and shouted, “Androcles shall be free! Androcles shall be free!”
So Androcles and the lion were set free and lived together like brothers long afterward.
4. CORNELIA AND HER JEWELS
One bright morning in a beautiful Roman garden two brothers were playing among the flowers and trees. Cornelia, their mother, a Roman lady, called the boys into the house, saying, “A friend is to dine with us to-day, and she will show us her jewels.” After the simple meal was over a servant brought into the room a large and beautiful casket of jewels, which the rich lady showed to her friends. How eagerly the boys gazed at those sparkling jewels—pearls, rubies, sapphires, and diamonds! The younger boy whispered to his brother, “I wish our mother had beautiful jewels too!” Later, when the boys had gone out into the garden to play, the friend said, “Is it true, Cornelia, that you are so poor that you have no jewels?” “Oh, no,” answered Cornelia, “I have jewels that are far more precious than yours.” “Oh, let me see them,” said the lady; “where are they?” “If you care to see them I will bring them to you,” said Cornelia. Then, calling her boys to her side, she presented them to the lady, saying, “These are my jewels! Are they not far more precious than your gems?”
In the long after-times when Cornelia’s sons became the greatest and best men of Rome, they never forgot that day when they knew that they were their mother’s pride and joy and love, dearer far to her than the most precious jewels of the rich.
5. KING ALFRED AND THE CAKES
Long ago in England there lived a good king, whose name was Alfred. One day after a fierce battle with the Danes the English soldiers were scattered and every man had to save himself in the best way he could. King Alfred fled alone, in great haste, through the woods and swamps, coming late at night to a wood-cutter’s cottage. He was very tired and hungry, and begged the wood-cutter’s wife to give him something to eat and a place to sleep. The good woman, not knowing who he was, invited him into her hut. She was cooking some cakes and so she said: “My poor, ragged fellow, you shall have some supper if you will watch these cakes. I want to go out and milk the cow, and you must see that the cakes do not burn while I am gone.” King Alfred sat down to watch them, but as his thoughts were on his people and his plans for the next day, he forgot all about the cakes until the woman came in and saw that they were burned to a crisp. “You lazy fellow!” she cried. “How dare you let the cakes burn? See what you have done!” Some people think she even struck the king with a stick. But the king was good-natured, not caring for her angry words half so much as for the loss of the cakes. No doubt he had to go hungry to bed that night. Early the next morning soldiers loudly knocked at the door, and said, “We seek King Alfred!” Then she knew she had treated her king shamefully. Alfred was great and good enough to ask her forgiveness for burning the cakes.
Soon after that the king gathered his men together again, won a great battle, drove the Danes back to their own country, and all the rest of his days ruled his people wisely and well. But this story of King Alfred and the Cakes has never been forgotten in all the after years.
6. BRUCE AND THE SPIDER
King Robert Bruce, of Scotland, longed to see his people free from England. He had fought six fierce battles, and six times he had been defeated, and his soldiers were so scattered that each soldier was forced to flee for safety into the thick woods. King Bruce himself was hiding in a shed. He was tired and sick at heart, feeling that it was useless to try to do anything more. Just as he was thinking that he would give up, he looked up and saw a spider weaving its web from one beam to another. Six times the spider climbed up almost to the top, and each time it fell down again. As the king watched it fall the sixth time he said, “It will give up.” But no; up it climbed again the seventh time, slowly, slowly, but surely—and succeeded!
Bruce arose full of courage, saying, “I will try again!” He tried again and won! That is why brave boys and girls say to-day, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, try again!”
7. THE INCHCAPE BELL
More than a hundred years ago there was a great and dangerous rock called the Inchcape Rock in the North Sea. Its top was hidden just below the surface of the waves so that many vessels struck upon it and sank. A kind-hearted priest called an abbot said: “I will chain a bell to the rock, and the bell will float to and fro in the shallow water and warn the sailors of their danger.” Loud and clear this bell rang out, and the sailors blessed the abbot for his kindness. But one calm, summer day a ship with a black flag sailed that way. It belonged to Ralph the Rover, a sea-robber, and he and his ship were the terror of the sea. Ralph saw the bell and said to his boatmen, “Row me to the Inchcape Rock, and we will play a trick on the old abbot.” Being rowed to the rock he cut the warning bell from the float, and the bell sank with a gurgling sound. “The next who comes to this rock will not bless the abbot,” laughed the robber as he sailed away. Many days he sailed the seas and grew rich with the ships he plundered. At last he sailed back home, and in the storm and fog he longed for the sound of the Inchcape Bell to tell him where he was. Then his vessel struck with a fearful crash on the Inchcape Rock, and as the waves rushed in on every side the abbot’s bell, ringing far down on the bottom of the sea, seemed to say, “The next who comes to this rock will not bless the abbot.”—Adapted from Robert Southey.
8. SIR WALTER RALEIGH
One morning, Elizabeth, Queen of England, was taking her daily walk with her maids after a rain-storm that had made the streets of London very muddy. A young man named Walter Raleigh, who was dressed in a new, rich scarlet plush cloak thrown over his shoulders, saw the Queen and her maids stop at a muddy place, wondering how they could cross. Quickly this young man, Walter, forgot all about himself and thought only of the Queen, and how he could help her. He took off his coat, spread it across the muddy place, and with a graceful bow, politely begged the Queen to do him the honor of walking on it as upon a carpet. She crossed without soiling her shoes, and then turned to thank the generous and polite young man. As she walked on, she said to her maids, “Who is he?” “His name is Walter Raleigh,” they replied. Not long after the Queen invited this polite young man to her palace, where she said to him: “Walter Raleigh, I wish to reward you for your generous gallantry. You are Sir Walter Raleigh.” That made him a knight. He became the Queen’s favorite at the court, and a great man in the nation. He tried to get English people to settle in America, and he introduced two things into England, from the Indians, which the people then knew very little about—potatoes and tobacco. There is a story that one day a servant, seeing the smoke curling over his master’s head and thinking he was on fire, ran for a pail of water, which he threw into Sir Walter’s face. This put the fire out quickly, but it did not stop people smoking tobacco. Would it not have been better if Sir Walter Raleigh had left the tobacco with the Indians?
9. SIR PHILIP SIDNEY
Once there was a fierce battle in which a brave and courteous knight and soldier, named Sir Philip Sidney, was wounded while charging to the front on horseback. He reached the camp bleeding and faint with great pain and thirst. A soldier brought him some water, saying, “Here, Sir Philip, I have brought you some clear, cool water from the brook. I will raise your head so that you can drink it.” He stooped low to raise his head, and was just placing the water to his lips when Sir Philip saw a foot-soldier, who was being carried past, looking with longing eyes at the water.
The generous knight instantly pushed the cup toward the dying soldier, saying, “Give it to him. His need is greater than mine.”
Sir Philip Sidney died of this wound, when he was only thirty-two years of age. On the day of his funeral in Saint Paul’s Cathedral the rich and poor, high and low, all felt they had lost a friend, and mourned for him as the kindest, gentlest man that they had ever known. His kindness to the dying soldier has caused his name to be remembered ever since with admiration and affection, and as long as stories of noble deeds are told to future boys and girls, this story will never be forgotten.
It is thought that Shakespeare, who settled in London while all the world was talking of Sidney’s life and its heroic ending, had him in mind when he made Ophelia speak of Hamlet as
10. THE BELL OF JUSTICE
Long ago in Italy a king ordered a bell hung from a tower in the market-place and called it “The Bell of Justice.” He said even if a little child suffered any wrong, he could ring the bell by pulling on the rope that was fastened to it, and the little child should receive justice. As the years passed many wrongs of the people were righted for the people who rang the bell. But at last the lower part of the rope rotted away, and a wild grape-vine was tied to lengthen it. On the hillside above the village lived a man who owned a horse that he allowed to roam on the roadside, and that he left to starve and to die in his old age, because the owner was too miserly to feed him. One day the horse wandered into the market-place, and seeing the green grape-vine, the poor creature in the keen pangs of hunger began to eat it, and in doing so rang the bell. All the people heard the ringing. It seemed to say,
The judges came quickly, and when they saw the miser’s horse nibbling at the vine, they said, “The dumb beast has rung the Bell of Justice, and justice he shall have.” They sent for the owner, and when he came they said: “This horse has served you well for many years. He saved your life several times. He helped you to make your wealth. So we order that one-half your money shall be set aside to provide good food, a warm stall, and good pasture for your horse the rest of his days.”
The miser hung his head, grieving to lose his gold. But the people shouted for joy at the just sentence, and the king laughed aloud:
11. NAPOLEON AND THE DRUMMER-BOY
One day the great general, Napoleon Bonaparte, was in the camp reviewing his troops, when he saw a small boy who was less than twelve years of age.
“My boy, what are you doing here?” said Napoleon. “I belong to the army, Sire,” replied the boy. “What do you do in the army?” “I am a drummer, Sire.” “Bring your drum, then,” said the general. The boy went on the minute and brought the drum. “Now,” said the general, “sound the general.” This is the signal given in the army an hour before marching to strike tents, load wagons, and get everything ready. Immediately the boy sounded the general. Napoleon exclaimed, “Good; now beat the march.” That is the signal for infantry to take their place in the column. The boy beat the march promptly. “Now sound the advance,” said Bonaparte, and with sparkling eyes the little drummer sounded the advance, the signal for the cavalry to take its place in the column. “Good!” exclaimed the emperor again; “now for the charge!” And with eyes flashing fire the little soldier beat the charge till the very rafters of the house trembled with the vibrations of the wild, fierce notes. “Bravo!” cried Napoleon; “now beat the retreat.” Down went the sticks. The little fellow straightened up, and with manly pride said: “You must excuse me, Sire, I never learned that. Our regiment never retreated!”
“You are excused,” said the general laughing, and to the end of his life Napoleon Bonaparte spoke of the little drummer-boy who could not beat a retreat.
12. PICCIOLA
One spring day an Italian prisoner, shut up wrongfully by Napoleon in one of the dreadful dungeons of France, was permitted to walk in the prison-yard. Looking down he saw a little mound of earth between two of the stones in the pavement, and a tiny green leaf was pushing its way up out of the ground. He was just about to crush it with his foot when he noticed a soft coating over the leaf. “This coating is to keep it safe,” he said; “I must not hurt it!” So he went on with his walk. The next day he saw that instead of one little green leaf, there were two leaves, and the plant was stronger. Every morning after that he looked to see how the little plant had grown. He called it “Picciola,” which means “the little one”; and it grew larger and more beautiful. He made some ink from soot and water in order to write down the story of this little flower, which soon had thirty beautiful blossoms on its stem. But one morning he was in great grief, for he saw his flower beginning to droop. He gave it water, but the stones of the prison-yard prevented its growing. He begged the jailer to let him remove one of the stones to save the life of his little flower; but the prison rules were strict, and no stone could be removed. A new thought came to the prisoner. He would send his little story of the flower to Napoleon, the emperor, and ask him to save his plant. A little girl carried the message to him, and at last the good news came that the stones of the prison-yard could be removed so that Picciola might live. Hearing the story, Josephine, the kind-hearted wife of the emperor, said, “No good can come in keeping such a good man in prison.” So he was set free, but he never forgot that he owed his liberty not only to Josephine, but also to his little friend, Picciola.
13. THE EMPEROR AND THE BIRD’S NEST
“Look!” said a soldier; “look! a swallow has built her nest in the emperor’s tent.” The soldiers looked and saw a swallow’s nest built of clay and horse’s hair, and the swallow sitting on her eggs.
“Sure, the swallow thinks the emperor’s tent is a shed,” laughed the soldiers. The emperor, hearing his name spoken, came out from his tent. When he saw the nest, he said, “Let no hand molest the nest or hurt the bird.”
So the little swallow sat there quietly, amid all the noise of cannon, hatching out her little ones, until at last the great guns had made a breach through the walls and the army had poured in to take the city. Then when the terrible fighting was ended, the soldiers began taking down their tents to go away; but when they came to the emperor’s tent, he said, “No, no! do not take down my tent, leave it standing!”
14. THE SWISS PATRIOT AND THE SPEARS
Many years ago when an Austrian army was marching into Switzerland, Swiss peasants came down from the mountains with bows and arrows, scythes and pitchforks, sticks and clubs, to save their country. The Austrian soldiers were all armed with spears and shields and shining armor, and as they moved together in solid ranks, what could the poor peasants do against such foes? “We must break their ranks if we win!” cried the Swiss leader. So bowmen shot their arrows, but they glanced from the soldiers’ shields like raindrops from a roof. Others tried their scythes and pitchforks and sticks and clubs, but the lines were still unbroken. The Austrians moved steadily forward, their shields lapping over one another and their thousand spears shining in the sunlight like so many bristles. They were unafraid before the Swiss sticks and stones and scythes and arrows. “We must break their ranks or we are lost!” cried the leader again; and in a moment a poor peasant, named Arnold Winkleried, stepped out and cried: “My friends, on the side of yonder mountain I have a happy home. There my wife and my little children await my return. But they will never see me again, for this day I give my life for my country. I commit my wife and children to your care. I will break the lines, follow me.” He had nothing in his hands, neither stone nor club nor other weapon. Rushing forward toward the soldiers he gathered a number of their spears together against his breast and fell pierced through and through. But he had broken the ranks of the enemy and made way for his countrymen to win the battle and to gain their liberty. Switzerland was saved, and the Swiss patriot did not gather the spears into his own breast in vain.
15. THE EMPEROR AND THE GOOSE-BOY
One hot summer day King Maximilian, of Bavaria, was walking in the country. Stopping under a tree to rest, he took a little book from his pocket to read, but he soon fell asleep. When he awoke he started for home, and had walked a mile when he thought of the book he had left under the tree. “My boy,” he said to a barefooted lad who was tending a large flock of geese near-by, “if you will run to that oak tree at the second turning of the road and bring me the book that I left there, I will give you this gold-piece.” The boy said, “I would gladly go, but I cannot leave the geese.” “Oh, I will mind them while you are gone,” said the King. The boy laughed. “I should like to see you minding them,” he said; “why, they would run away from you in a minute.” “Only let me try,” said the King. At last the boy gave the King his whip and showed him how to crack it, and started off. The King sat on a stone and laughed at the thought of his being a goose-herd. But the geese missed the boy at once, and with a great cackling and hissing they went off, half-flying and half-running, across the field. The King ran after them, trying to crack his whip and bring them back. But they got into a garden and were feeding on the tender vegetables when the boy got back with the book. “Just as I thought,” said the boy, “I have found your book, and you have lost my geese.” The King did the best he could to help the boy drive back the geese into the field. Then he gave the boy another gold-piece. The boy thanked him and said: “You are a very good man, and a very good king; but you will have to try a long time before you are a very good goose-herd.”
16. THE EMPEROR AND THE SCHOOL CHILDREN
Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, was walking one June morning out into the country for a little rest and recreation. He came to a country schoolhouse, and asked the teacher if he might speak to the children and ask them some questions. Taking an orange from his pocket he said, “Who can tell me to what kingdom this belongs?” A brave, bright boy spoke up quickly and said, “It belongs to the vegetable kingdom, sir.” “Why?” asked the King. “It is the fruit of a plant, and all plants belong to the vegetable kingdom,” said the boy. The King was pleased. “You are right, and you shall have the orange for your answer. Catch it,” he said, tossing it to the boy. Then taking a gold coin from his pocket and holding it up, he said, “To what kingdom does this belong?” Another bright boy answered quickly, “To the mineral kingdom, sir! All metals belong to the mineral kingdom.” “That is a good answer,” said the King. “Here is the gold-piece for your answer.” The children were delighted.
“I will ask you one more question,” he said. “To what kingdom do I belong?” The bright boys were puzzled now. Some thought of saying “To the kingdom of Prussia.” Some wanted to say “To the animal kingdom.” But they were a little afraid, and all kept still. At last a tiny, blue-eyed little girl looked up into the King’s smiling face and said in her simple way, “I think you belong to the kingdom of heaven, sir.”
King Frederick’s eyes filled with tears, and he stooped down and kissed the sweet little girl, and said, “I hope I may always belong to that kingdom, my child.”
17. TOLSTOY’S DAUGHTER AND THE PEASANT BOY
One day Count Tolstoy’s little daughter, ten years old, was in front of the house playing with some peasant children of the village. In a quarrel that arose one of the boys struck the little girl with a stick on her arm, making it black and blue. She ran in the house crying, and said to her father: “That naughty boy has bruised my arm. I want you to go out and whip him.” The father took the little girl on his knee and said: “My daughter, tell me, what good would it do if I went out and beat him? Would not your arm really hurt just as much? He struck you because he was angry with you. For a few minutes he hated you. If I whip him he will hate you more than ever and hate me too, and all of us. Would it not be better to make him love us? Perhaps that would change his character for the rest of his life. I tell you what I would do if I were you. I would go to the pantry and get some of that nice raspberry jam and take it out to him, and I think he will be made to love us all, instead of hating us.”
The little girl did what her father told her. Such a spirit of love Tolstoy believed in and taught in all his writings. Were such a spirit of love shown everywhere in the world, evil would oftener be overcome by good.
18. THE WRISTS BOUND WITH THE RED THREAD
Once the English were at war with some fierce tribes of India, called the Hillsmen. The English knew they were very brave, and noticed after every battle the bravest chiefs who were killed were found with a red thread bound around their wrists, as a mark of greatest honor. One day some English soldiers, following the enemy, were marching along a narrow valley, far in the hill-country, when suddenly they came to a place where the valley was divided by a great pointed boulder. The main regiment kept to the right. A sergeant and eleven men took the left, thinking they could easily pass around the boulder and meet their companions beyond it. But in a moment the sergeant found that the boulder was an arm of the left cañon of the valley, and that they had marched into a deep gorge with no outlet except the way they came. As they looked up at the great walls they spied a number of Hillsmen who, from their hiding-places, began showering spears upon them. Just at that moment the officer in command of the other soldiers saw the danger of these men and gave the order for them to retreat. In some strange way they mistook the signal for a command to charge. At once they charged on a run up the slope, cheering as they ran. But as they were eleven against seventy, some of them were killed by spears, others were hurled backward over the precipice, and three only got to the top and fought hand to hand with the foe. When the fighting was finished two Hillsmen lay dead for every Englishman. Later in the day the English relief party arrived and gathered up their dead comrades, and they found, bound around both wrists of every one, the red thread! The Hillsmen had given to their foes the honor reserved for their own heroes.—Adapted from “How to Tell Stories to Children,” by Sara Cone Bryant.
19. “LITTLE TEN MINUTES”
When the English were at war with the Zulus in South Africa, a French prince, named Louis Napoleon, enlisted, and one morning was riding outside the camp with a small company of soldiers. All about them in the open country they saw the Zulus. One of his friends said: “Louis, we had better go back to camp. We are in great danger here. The Zulus may come upon us any minute and kill us.” “Oh, no danger,” said the Prince, “let us stay here just ten minutes more, and drink our coffee.” During that ten minutes the Zulus came upon them, and in the skirmish the Prince lost his life. When the news of his death was telegraphed to his widowed mother in London, England, she said: “That was always Louis’ way. When he was a little boy he was never ready on time. He was always saying, ‘Just ten minutes more.’ Sometimes when I called him in the morning and he was too sleepy to speak he would lift his hands and spread out his ten fingers to show that he wanted ten minutes more. I used to call him ‘Little Ten Minutes.’ Those ten minutes have lost me my boy, and my boy his life. His fault has become his fate!”