Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 6

Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 6

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 6, by Charles H. SylvesterThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away orre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.orgTitle: Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 6Author: Charles H. SylvesterRelease Date: June 19, 2007 [EBook #21864]Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOURNEYS THROUGH BOOKLAND, VOL. 6 ***Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Julia Miller, and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.netTranscriber’s NoteObvious typographical errors have been corrected. A list of these changes is found at the end of the text.Inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation have been maintained. A list of inconsistently spelled and hyphenatedwords is found at the end of the text. The original book used both numerical and symbolic footnote markers. Thisversion follows the original usage.A knight on horseback is approaching the sea. A castle is visible in the backgroundand there are ships on the sea.Two knights have met in a joust and theloser is falling to the ground. THE TOURNAMENTJourneys Through BooklandA NEW AND ORIGINALPLAN FOR READING APPLIED TO THEWORLD’S BEST LITERATUREFOR CHILDRENBYCHARLES H. SYLVESTERAuthor of English and American LiteratureVOLUME SIXNew EditionColophonChicagoBELLOWS-REEVE ...

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 6, by Charles H. Sylvester
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 6
Author: Charles H. Sylvester
Release Date: June 19, 2007 [EBook #21864]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOURNEYS THROUGH BOOKLAND, VOL. 6 ***
Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Julia Miller, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber’s Note
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. Alist of these changes is found at the end of the text. Inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation have been maintained. Alistof inconsistently spelled and hyphenated words is found at the end of the text. The original book used both numerical and symbolic footnote markers. This version follows the original usage.
A knight on horseback is approaching the sea. A castle is visible in the background and there are ships on the sea.
Two knights have met in a joust and the loser is falling to the ground.T T HE OURNAMENT
Journeys Through Bookland
A NEW AND ORIGINAL PLAN FOR READING APPLIED TO THE WORLD’S BEST LITERATURE FOR CHILDREN
BY CHARLES H. SYLVESTER Author of English and American Literature
VOLUME SIX NewEdition
Colophon
Chicago BELLOWS-REEVE COMPANY PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1922 BELLOWS-REEVE COMPANY
CONTENTS
HoratiusLord Macaulay Lord Ullin’s DaughterThomas Campbell Sir Walter ScottGrace E. Sellon The TournamentSir Walter Scott The RainbowThomas Campbell The Lion and the MissionaryDavid Livingstone The Moss RoseTranslated from Krummacher Four Ducks on a PondWilliam Allingham Rab and His FriendsJohn Brown, M.D. Annie LaurieWilliam Douglas The Blind LassieT. C. Latto BoyhoodWashington Allston Sweet and LowAlfred Tennyson ChildhoodDonald G. Mitchell The Bugle SongAlfred Tennyson The Imitation of ChristThomas à Kempis The Destruction of SennacheribLord Byron Ruth The Vision of BelshazzarLord Byron Sohrab and Rustem Sohrab and RustumMatthewArnold The Poet and the PeasantEmile Souvestre John Howard Payne andHome, Sweet Home Auld Lang SyneRobert Burns Home They Brought Her Warrior DeadAlfred Tennyson Charles Dickens A Christmas CarolCharles Dickens Christmas in Old TimeSir Walter Scott Elegy Written in a Country ChurchyardThomas Gray The ShipwreckRobert Louis Stevenson Elephant HuntingRoualeyn Gordon Cumming Some Clever MonkeysThomas Belt Poor Richard’s AlmanacBenjamin Franklin George Rogers Clark The Capture of VincennesGeorge Rogers Clark Three Sundays in a WeekEdgar Allan Poe The Modern BelleStark Widow MachreeSamuel Lover Limestone BrothGerald Griffin The Knock-OutDavy Crockett The Country SquireThomas Yriarte To My Infant SonThomas Hood
PAGE 1 23 26 38 91 93 98 98 99 119 120 122 122 124 133 134 141 143 153 157 173 206 221 228 231 232 244 356 360 371 385 402 407 422 428 453 463 464 467 471 474 478
Pronunciation of Proper Names 481 For Classification of Selections, see General Index, at end of Volume X
ILLUSTRATIONS
The Tournament(Color Plate) The Long Array of Helmets Bright “Lie There,” He Cried, “Fell Pirate” Horatio in His Harness, Halting Upon One Knee “Boatman, Do Not Tarry” Sir Walter Scott(Halftone) Abbotsford(Color Plate) Throng Going To the Lists The Disinherited Knight Unhorses Bryan The Armour Makers Prince John Throws Down the Truncheon Rowena Crowning Disinherited Knight “Rab, Ye Thief!” James Buried His Wife She Reaches Down to Dip Her Toe Poor Tray is Dead “Whither Thou Goest, I Will Go” Ruth Gleaning The Writing on the Wall Sohrab and Peran-Wisa(Color Plate) Peran-Wisa Gives Sohrab’s Challenge The Spear Rent the Tough Plates Rustum Sorrows Over Sohrab Matthew Arnold(Halftone) John Howard Payne(Halftone) There Is No Place Like Home For Auld Lang Syne Charles Dickens(Halftone) The Clerk Smiled Faintly “In Life I Was Your Partner, Jacob Marley” In the Best Parlor The Fiddler Struck up “Sir Roger de Coverley” Upon the Couch There Sat a Jolly Giant Bob and Tiny Tim(Color Plate) There Never Was Such a Goose “So IAm Told,” Returned the Second He Read His Own Name He Stood by the Window—Glorious! “A Merry Christmas, Bob!” Homeward Plods His Weary Way The Country Churchyard I Found I Was Holding to a Spar With Beating Heart IApproached a View A Cebus Monkey The Sleeping Fox Catches No Poultry Clark Took the Lead We Met at the Church “Well, Then, Bobby, My Boy” In Kate, However, I Had a Firm Friend “Faith, I Wish You’d Take Me!”
He Soon Sees a Farmhouse at a Little Distance
The Squire’s Library “There Goes My Ink!”
Donn P. Crane Herbert N. Rudeen Herbert N. Rudeen Herbert N. Rudeen Herbert N. Rudeen
R. F. Babcock R. F. Babcock R. F. Babcock R. F. Babcock R. F. Babcock Herbert N. Rudeen Herbert N. Rudeen Herbert N. Rudeen Herbert N. Rudeen R. F. Babcock R. F. Babcock Louis Grell Louis Grell R. F. Babcock R. F. Babcock R. F. Babcock
Iris Weddell White Herbert N. Rudeen
Iris Weddell White Iris Weddell White Iris Weddell White Iris Weddell White Iris Weddell White Hazel Frazee Iris Weddell White Iris Weddell White Iris Weddell White Iris Weddell White Iris Weddell White R. F. Babcock R. F. Babcock Herbert N. Rudeen R. F. Babcock Herbert N. Rudeen Herbert N. Rudeen R. F. Babcock R. F. Babcock Herbert N. Rudeen Herbert N. Rudeen Herbert N. Rudeen Herbert N. Rudeen Iris Weddell White Lucille Enders
PAGE Frontispiece 5 13 21 24 26 30 41 59 69 85 89 103 117 125 132 145 147 155 174 179 191 203 204 222 225 230 232 255 263 281 285 297 304 307 329 344 348 355 361 369 372 397 405 411 433 449 455 458 465 468 475 479
HORATIUS
ByLord Macaulay
N .—T L M R . W , OTE HIS SPIRITED POEM BY ORD ACAULAY IS FOUNDED ON ONE OF THE MOST POPULAR OMAN LEGENDS HILE THE STORY IS BASED ON FACTS WE CAN BY NO means be certain that all of the details are historical.
A R , T , L T P L T S , CCORDING TO OMAN LEGENDARY HISTORY THE ARQUINS UCIUS ARQUINIUS RISCUS AND UCIUS ARQUINIUS UPERBUS WERE AMONG THE EARLY KINGS OF R . T , . F OME HE REIGN OF THE FORMER WAS GLORIOUS BUT THAT OF THE LATTER WAS MOST UNJUST AND TYRANNICAL INALLY THE UNSCRUPULOUSNESS OF THE KING AND HIS SON REACHEDSUCHAPOINTTHATITBECAMEUNENDURABLETOTHEPEOPLE,WHOIN509 B. C.ROSEINREBELLIONANDDROVETHEENTIREFAMILYFROMROME. TARQUINIUS Superbus appealed to Lars Porsena, the powerful king of Clusium for aid and the story of the expedition against Rome is told in this poem.
1-1 ARS PORSENA of Clusium 1-2 By the Nine Gods he swore That the great house of Tarquin Should suffer wrong no more. By the Nine Gods he swore it, And named a trysting day, And bade his messengers ride forth East and west and south and north, To summon his array.
East and west and south and north The messengers ride fast, And tower and town and cottage Have heard the trumpet’s blast. Shame on the false Etruscan Who lingers in his home, When Porsena of Clusium Is on the march for Rome. The horsemen and the footmen Are pouring in amain From many a stately market-place; From many a fruitful plain. From many a lonely hamlet, Which, hid by beech and pine, Like an eagle’s nest, hangs on the crest Of purple Apennine;  * There be thirty chosen prophets, The wisest of the land, Who alway by Lars Porsena Both morn and evening stand: Evening and morn the Thirty Have turned the verses o’er, 2-3 Traced from the right on linen white By mighty seers of yore. And with one voice the Thirty Have their glad answer given: “Go forth, go forth, Lars Porsena; Go forth, beloved of Heaven: Go, and return in glory To Clusium’s royal dome; 3-4 And hang round Nurscia’s altars The golden shields of Rome.”
And now hath every city 3-5 Sent up her tale of men: The foot are fourscore thousand, The horse are thousand ten. 3-6 Before the gates of Sutrium Is met the great array. A proud man was Lars Porsena Upon the trysting day.
For all the Etruscan armies Were ranged beneath his eye, And many a banished Roman,
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And many a stout ally; And with a mighty following To join the muster came The Tusculan Mamilius, 3-7 Prince of the Latian name. But by the yellow Tiber Was tumult and affright: 3-8 From all the spacious champaign To Rome men took their flight. A mile around the city, The throng stopped up the ways; A fearful sight it was to see Through two long nights and days. For aged folks on crutches, And women great with child, And mothers sobbing over babes That clung to them and smiled, And sick men borne in litters High on the necks of slaves, And troops of sunburnt husbandmen With reaping-hooks and staves, And droves of mules and asses Laden with skins of wine, And endless flocks of goats and sheep, And endless herds of kine, And endless trains of wagons That creaked beneath the weight Of corn-sacks and of household goods, Choked every roaring gate. 4-9 Now, from the rock Tarpeian Could the wan burghers spy The line of blazing villages Red in the midnight sky. 5-10 The Fathers of the City, They sat all night and day, For every hour some horseman came With tidings of dismay. To eastward and to westward Have spread the Tuscan bands; Nor house nor fence nor dovecote In Crustumerium stands. 5-11 Verbenna down to Ostia Hath wasted all the plain; 5-12 Astur hath stormed Janiculum, And the stout guards are slain. 5-13 Iwis, in all the Senate, There was no heart so bold, But sore it ached, and fast it beat, When that ill news was told. 5-14 Forthwith up rose the Consul, Uprose the Fathers all; In haste they girded up their gowns, And hied them to the wall. They held a council standing Before the River-Gate; Short time was there, ye well may guess, For musing or debate. Out spake the Consul roundly: “The bridge must straight go down; For since Janiculum is lost, Naught else can save the town.” Just then a scout came flying, All wild with haste and fear; “To arms! to arms! Sir Consul:
Lars Porsena is here.” On the low hills to westward The Consul fixed his eye, And saw the swarthy storm of dust Rise fast along the sky. And nearer fast and nearer Doth the red whirlwind come; And louder still and still more loud, From underneath that rolling cloud, Is heard the trumpet’s war-note proud, The trampling, and the hum. And plainly and more plainly Now through the gloom appears, Far to left and far to right, In broken gleams of dark-blue light, The long array of helmets bright, The long array of spears. And plainly, and more plainly Above that glimmering line, Now might ye see the banners Of twelve fair cities shine; But the banner of proud Clusium Was highest of them all, The terror of the Umbrian, The terror of the Gaul. Fast by the royal standard, O’erlooking all the war, Lars Porsena of Clusium Sat in his ivory car. By the right wheel rode Mamilius, Prince of the Latian name, 7-15 And by the left false Sextus, That wrought the deed of shame.
Two Romans conversing on the battlements of a fort.THE LONG ARRAY OF HELMETS BRIGHT
But when the face of Sextus Was seen among the foes, A yell that bent the firmament From all the town arose. On the house-tops was no woman But spat toward him and hissed, No child but screamed out curses, And shook its little fist. But the Consul’s brow was sad, And the Consul’s speech was low, And darkly looked he at the wall, And darkly at the foe. “Their van will be upon us Before the bridge goes down; And if they once may win the bridge, What hope to save the town?” Then out spake brave Horatius, The Captain of the Gate: “To every man upon this earth Death cometh soon or late. And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds, For the ashes of his fathers, And the temples of his gods, “And for the tender mother Who dandled him to rest,
And for the wife who nurses His baby at her breast, And for the holy maidens 8-16 Who feed the eternal flame, To save them from false Sextus That wrought the deed of shame? “Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, With all the speed ye may; I, with two more to help me, Will hold the foe in play. In yon strait path a thousand May well be stopped by three. Now who will stand on either hand, And keep the bridge with me?” Then out spake Spurius Lartius; A Ramnian proud was he: “Lo, I will stand at thy right hand, And keep the bridge with thee.” And out spake strong Herminius; Of Titian blood was he: “I will abide on thy left side, And keep the bridge with thee.” “Horatius,” quoth the Consul, “As thou sayest, so let it be.” And straight against that great array Forth went the dauntless Three. For Romans in Rome’s quarrel Spared neither land nor gold, Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life, In the brave days of old. Then none was for a party; Then all were for the state; Then the great man helped the poor, And the poor man loved the great: Then lands were fairly portioned; Then spoils were fairly sold: The Romans were like brothers In the brave days of old. Now while the Three were tightening Their harness on their backs, The Consul was the foremost man To take in hand an axe: 10-17 And Fathers mixed with Commons Seized hatchet, bar, and crow, And smote upon the planks above, And loosed the props below. Meanwhile the Tuscan army, Right glorious to behold, Came flashing back the noonday light, Rank behind rank, like surges bright Of a broad sea of gold. Four hundred trumpets sounded A peal of warlike glee, As that great host, with measured tread, And spears advanced, and ensigns spread, Rolled slowly towards the bridge’s head, Where stood the dauntless Three. The Three stood calm and silent, And looked upon the foes, And a great shout of laughter From all the vanguard rose; And forth three chiefs came spurring Before that deep array; To earth they sprang, their swords they drew, And lifted high their shields, and flew
To win the narrow way; 11-18 Aunus from green Tifernum, Lord of the Hill of Vines; And Seius, whose eight hundred slaves Sicken in Ilva’s mines; And Picus, long to Clusium Vassal in peace and war, Who led to fight his Umbrian powers From that gray crag where, girt with towers, The fortress of Nequinum lowers O’er the pale waves of Nar. Stout Lartius hurled down Aunus Into the stream beneath: Herminius struck at Seius, And clove him to the teeth: At Picus brave Horatius Darted one fiery thrust; And the proud Umbrian’s gilded arms Clashed in the bloody dust. Then Ocnus of Falerii Rushed on the Roman Three: And Lausulus of Urgo, The rover of the sea; And Aruns of Volsinium, Who slew the great wild boar, The great wild boar that had his den Amidst the reeds of Cosa’s fen, And wasted fields, and slaughtered men, Along Albinia’s shore. Herminius smote down Aruns: Lartius laid Ocnus low: Right to the heart of Lausulus Horatius sent a blow. “Lie there,” he cried, “fell pirate! No more, aghast and pale, From Ostia’s walls the crowd shall mark The track of thy destroying bark. 12-19 12-20 No more Campania’s hinds shall fly To woods and caverns when they spy Thy thrice accursed sail.” But now no sound of laughter Was heard among the foes. A wild and wrathful clamor From all the vanguard rose. Six spears’ lengths from the entrance Halted that deep array, And for a space no man came forth To win the narrow way. But hark! the cry is Astur: And lo! the ranks divide; And the great Lord of Luna Comes with his stately stride. Upon his ample shoulders Clangs loud the fourfold shield, And in his hand he shakes the brand Which none but he can wield.
A battle scene“LIE THERE,” HE CRIED, “FELL PIRATE!”
He smiled on those bold Romans A smile serene and high; He eyed the flinching Tuscans, And scorn was in his eye.