Fifty Famous Stories Retold, James Baldwin [free ebooks romance novels .txt] 📗
- Author: James Baldwin
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There once lived in England a brave and noble man whose name was Walter Ra-leigh. He was not only brave and noble, but he was also handsome and polite; and for that reason the queen made him a knight, and called him Sir Walter Ra-leigh.
I will tell you about it.
When Raleigh was a young man, he was one day walking along a street in London. At that time the streets were not paved, and there were no sidewalks. Raleigh was dressed in very fine style, and he wore a beau-ti-ful scar-let cloak thrown over his shoulders.
As he passed along, he found it hard work to keep from stepping in the mud, and soiling his hand-some new shoes. Soon he came to a puddle of muddy water which reached from one side of the street to the other. He could not step across. Perhaps he could jump over it.
As he was thinking what he should do, he happened to look up. Who was it coming down the street, on the other side of the puddle?
It was E-liz-a-beth, the Queen of England, with her train of gen-tle-wom-en and waiting maids. She saw the dirty puddle in the street. She saw the handsome young man with the scar-let cloak, stand-ing by the side of it. How was she to get across?
Young Raleigh, when he saw who was coming, forgot about himself. He thought only of helping the queen. There was only one thing that he could do, and no other man would have thought of that.
He took off his scarlet cloak, and spread it across the puddle. The queen could step on it now, as on a beautiful carpet.
She walked across. She was safely over the ugly puddle, and her feet had not touched the mud. She paused a moment, and thanked the young man.
As she walked onward with her train, she asked one of the gen-tle-wom-en, "Who is that brave gen-tle-man who helped us so handsomely?"
"His name is Walter Raleigh," said the gentle-woman.
"He shall have his reward," said the queen.
Not long after that, she sent for Raleigh to come to her pal-ace.
The young man went, but he had no scarlet cloak to wear. Then, while all the great men and fine ladies of England stood around, the queen made him a knight. And from that time he was known as Sir Walter Raleigh, the queen's favorite.
Sir Walter Raleigh and Sir Humphrey Gilbert about whom I have already told you, were half-broth-ers.
When Sir Humphrey made his first voy-age to America, Sir Walter was with him. After that, Sir Walter tried sev-er-al times to send men to this country to make a set-tle-ment.
But those whom he sent found only great forests, and wild beasts, and sav-age In-di-ans. Some of them went back to England; some of them died for want of food; and some of them were lost in the woods. At last Sir Walter gave up trying to get people to come to America.
But he found two things in this country which the people of England knew very little about. One was the po-ta-to, the other was to-bac-co.
If you should ever go to Ireland, you may be shown the place where Sir Walter planted the few po-ta-toes which he carried over from America. He told his friends how the Indians used them for food; and he proved that they would grow in the Old World as well as in the New.
Sir Walter had seen the Indians smoking the leaves of the to-bac-co plant. He thought that he would do the same, and he carried some of the leaves to England. Englishmen had never used tobacco before that time; and all who saw Sir Walter puff-ing away at a roll of leaves thought that it was a strange sight.
One day as he was sitting in his chair and smoking, his servant came into the room. The man saw the smoke curling over his master's head, and he thought that he was on fire.
He ran out for some water. He found a pail that was quite full. He hurried back, and threw the water into Sir Walter's face. Of course the fire was all put out.
After that a great many men learned to smoke. And now tobacco is used in all countries of the world. It would have been well if Sir Walter Raleigh had let it alone.
POCAHONTAS.There was once a very brave man whose name was John Smith. He came to this country many years ago, when there were great woods everywhere, and many wild beasts and Indians. Many tales are told of his ad-ven-tures, some of them true and some of them untrue. The most famous of all these is the fol-low-ing:—
One day when Smith was in the woods, some Indians came upon him, and made him their pris-on-er. They led him to their king, and in a short time they made ready to put him to death.
A large stone was brought in, and Smith was made to lie down with his head on it. Then two tall Indians with big clubs in their hands came forward. The king and all his great men stood around to see. The Indians raised their clubs. In another moment they would fall on Smith's head.
But just then a little Indian girl rushed in. She was the daugh-ter of the king, and her name was Po-ca-hon´tas. She ran and threw herself between Smith and the up-lift-ed clubs. She clasped Smith's head with her arms. She laid her own head upon his.
"O father!" she cried, "spare this man's life. I am sure he has done you no harm, and we ought to be his friends."
The men with the clubs could not strike, for they did not want to hurt the child. The king at first did not know what to do. Then he spoke to some of his war-riors, and they lifted Smith from the ground. They untied the cords from his wrists and feet, and set him free.
The next day the king sent Smith home; and several Indians went with him to protect him from harm.
After that, as long as she lived, Po-ca-hon-tas was the friend of the white men, and she did a great many things to help them.
GEORGE WASHINGTON AND HIS HATCHET.When George Wash-ing-ton was quite a little boy, his father gave him a hatchet. It was bright and new, and George took great delight in going about and chopping things with it.
He ran into the garden, and there he saw a tree which seemed to say to him, "Come and cut me down!"
George had often seen his father's men chop down the great trees in the forest, and he thought that it would be fine sport to see this tree fall with a crash to the ground. So he set to work with his little hatchet, and, as the tree was a very small one, it did not take long to lay it low.
Soon after that, his father came home.
"Who has been cutting my fine young cherry tree?" he cried. "It was the only tree of its kind in this country, and it cost me a great deal of money."
He was very angry when he came into the house.
"If I only knew who killed that cherry tree," he cried, "I would—yes, I would"—
"Father!" cried little George. "I will tell you the truth about it. I chopped the tree down with my hatchet."
His father forgot his anger.
"George," he said, and he took the little fellow in his arms, "George, I am glad that you told me about it. I would rather lose a dozen cherry trees than that you should tell one false-hood."
GRACE DARLING.It was a dark Sep-tem-ber morning. There was a storm at sea. A ship had been driven on a low rock off the shores of the Farne Islands. It had been broken in two by the waves, and half of it had been washed away. The other half lay yet on the rock, and those of the crew who were still alive were cling-ing to it. But the waves were dashing over it, and in a little while it too would be carried to the bottom.
Could any one save the poor, half-drowned men who were there?
On one of the islands was a light-house; and there, all through that stormy night, Grace Darling had listened to the storm.
Grace was the daughter of the light-house keeper, and she had lived by the sea as long as she could re-mem-ber.
In the darkness of the night, above the noise of the winds and waves, she heard screams and wild cries. When day-light came, she could see the wreck, a mile away, with the angry waters all around it. She could see the men clinging to the masts.
"We must try to save them!" she cried. "Let us go out in the boat at once!"
"It is of no use, Grace," said her father. "We cannot reach them."
He was an old man, and he knew the force of the mighty waves.
"We cannot stay here and see them die," said Grace. "We must at least try to save them."
Her father could not say, "No."
In a few minutes they were ready. They set off in the heavy lighthouse boat. Grace pulled one oar, and her father the other, and they made straight toward the wreck. But it was hard rowing against such a sea, and it seemed as though they would never reach the place.
At last they were close to the rock, and now they were in greater danger than before. The fierce waves broke against the boat, and it would have been dashed in pieces, had it not been for the strength and skill of the brave girl.
But after many trials, Grace's father climbed upon the wreck, while Grace herself held the boat. Then one by one the worn-out crew were helped on board. It was all that the girl could do to keep the frail boat from being drifted away, or broken upon the sharp edges of the rock.
Then her father clam-bered back into his place. Strong hands grasped the oars, and by and by all were safe in the lighthouse. There Grace proved to be no less tender as a nurse than she had been brave as a sailor. She cared most kindly for the ship-wrecked men until the storm had died away and they were strong enough to go to their own homes.
All this happened a long time ago, but the name of Grace Darling will never be forgotten. She lies buried now in a little church-yard by the sea, not far from her old home. Every year many people go there to see her grave; and there a mon-u-ment has been placed in honor of the brave girl. It is not a large mon-u-ment, but it is one that speaks of the noble deed which made Grace Darling famous. It is a figure carved in stone of a woman lying at rest, with a boat's oar held fast in her right hand.
THE STORY OF WILLIAM TELL.The people of Swit-zer-land were not always free and happy as they are to-day. Many years ago a proud tyrant, whose name was Gessler, ruled over them, and made their lot a bitter one indeed.
One day this tyrant set up a tall pole in the public square, and put his own cap on the top of it; and then he gave orders that every man who came into the town should bow down before it. But there was one man, named William Tell, who would not do this. He stood up straight with folded arms, and laughed at the swinging cap. He would not bow down to Gessler himself.
When Gessler heard of this, he
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