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The Children's Hour, Volume 3 (of 10) by Various

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THE CHILDREN'S HOUR

In Ten Volumes

Illustrated

VOLUME III

STORIES FROM THE CLASSICS

Selected & Arranged by

EVA MARCH TAPPAN

Houghton Mifflin Company

1907







[Illustration: "_It is strange that they let that dog lie there_"]




Between the dark and the daylight, when the night is beginning to lower
comes a pause in the days occupations, that is known as the Children's
Hour.




NOTE


All rights in stories in this volume are reserved by the holders of the
copyrights. The publishers and others named in the subjoined list are the
proprietors, either in their own right or as agents for the authors, of
the stories taken from the works enumerated, of which the ownership is
hereby acknowledged. The editor takes this opportunity to thank both
authors and publishers for the ready generosity with which they have
allowed her to include these stories in "The Children's Hour."

"The Wonder-Book," and "Tanglewood Tales," by Nathaniel Hawthorne;
published by Houghton, Mifflin & Company.

"Old Greek Folk Stories," by Josephine Preston Peabody; published by
Houghton, Mifflin & Company.

"The Odyssey of Homer," English prose version by George Herbert Palmer;
published by Houghton, Mifflin & Company.





CONTENTS


TO THE CHILDREN

STORIES FROM HERODOTUS
LADRONIUS, THE PRINCE OF THIEVES
Retold by G. H. Boden and W. Barrington d'Almeida
ARION AND THE DOLPHIN
Retold by G. H. Boden and W. Barrington d'Almeida

STORIES FROM LIVY
ROMULUS, FOUNDER OF ROME Alfred J. Church
HOW HORATIUS HELD THE BRIDGE Alfred J. Church
HOW CINCINNATUS SAVED ROME Alfred J. Church
THE STORY OF VIRGINIA Alfred J. Church
THE SACRIFICE OF MARCUS CURTIUS Alfred J. Church

STORIES FROM OVID
THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER Nathaniel Hawthorne
THE GOLDEN TOUCH Nathaniel Hawthorne
THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS Nathaniel Hawthorne

OLD GREEK FOLK-STORIES
ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE Josephine Preston Peabody
ICARUS AND DAEDALUS Josephine Preston Peabody
PHAETHON Josephine Preston Peabody
NIOBE Josephine Preston Peabody
PYRAMUS AND THISBE Josephine Preston Peabody

STORIES OF THE TROJAN WAR
THE APPLE OF DISCORD Josephine Preston Peabody
THE QUARREL BETWEEN AGAMEMNON AND ACHILLES Alfred J. Church
THE FIGHT BETWEEN PARIS AND MENELAUS Walter C. Perry
THE DUEL BETWEEN HECTOR AND AJAX Walter C. Perry
THE DEATH OF PATROCLUS AND THE BATTLE OF THE RIVER
Alfred J. Church
VULCAN MAKES ARMOR FOR ACHILLES Walter C. Perry
THE SLAYING OF HECTOR Walter C. Perry
THE FUNERAL GAMES IN HONOR OF PATROCLUS Walter C. Perry
THE WOODEN HORSE AND THE FALL OF TROY Josephine Preston Peabody

THE WANDERINGS OF ULYSSES
AN ADVENTURE WITH THE CYCLOPS Alfred J. Church
CIRCE'S PALACE Nathaniel Hawthorne
THE SIRENS--SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS
Translated by George Herbert Palmer

ULYSSES IN ITHACA
ULYSSES LANDS ON THE SHORE OF ITHACA
F. S. Marvin, R. J. C. Mayor, and F. M. Stowell
ULYSSES AT THE HOUSE OF THE SWINEHERD
F. S. Marvin, R. J. C. Mayor, and F. M. Stowell
THE VENGEANCE OF ULYSSES
A. HIS RECEPTION AT THE PALACE
F. S. Marvin, R. J. C. Mayor, and F. M. Stowell
B. THE TRIAL OF THE BOW
Translated by George Herbert Palmer
C. THE SLAYING OF THE SUITORS
F. S. Marvin, R. J. C. Mayor, and F. M. Stowell
D. PENELOPE RECOGNIZES ULYSSES
Translated by George Herbert Palmer

THE WANDERINGS OF THE TROJAN AENEAS
THE FLIGHT OF AENEAS FROM THE RUINS OF TROY Alfred J. Church
AENEAS'S ADVENTURE WITH THE HARPIES Charles Henry Hanson
AENEAS IN THE LAND OF THE CYCLOPS Charles Henry Hanson
AENEAS AND QUEEN DIDO Alfred J. Church
THE FUNERAL GAMES OF ANCHISES Charles Henry Hanson
AENEAS'S VISIT TO THE LOWER WORLD Charles Henry Hanson
AENEAS'S FIRST GREAT BATTLE WITH THE LATINS Charles Henry Hanson
AENEAS FINALLY CONQUERS THE LATINS Alfred J. Church




ILLUSTRATIONS


"IT IS STRANGE THAT THEY LET THAT DOG LIE THERE"
L.F. Schutzenberger

"I AM AFRAID THERE WILL NOT BE HALF ENOUGH SUPPER" Walter Crane

THEY LEAPED OUT OF THE BOTTOMLESS HOLE George Wharton Edwards

TO HIM AT LAST THE THREE GODDESSES INTRUSTED THE JUDGMENT
AND THE GOLDEN APPLE Giulio Romano

FIERCE WAS THE FIGHT ABOUT THE BODY OF PATROCLUS Giulio Romano

A GREAT IMAGE OF A HORSE Franz Cleyn

THE CYCLOPS IN HIS WRATH BRAKE OFF THE TOP OF A GREAT HILL
L.F. Schutzenberger

"DEAR SON, HAVE YOU COME HOME AT LAST?" G. Truffault

THE FLIGHT FROM TROY Franz Cleyn

THE VICTORY OF EURYALUS Franz Cleyn




TO THE CHILDREN


The greater part of this book is made up of stories from the poems of
Homer and Virgil. Homer is thought to have lived in Greece about three
thousand years ago, and yet his poems never seem old-fashioned and people
do not tire of reading them. Boys and girls almost always like them,
because they are so full of stories. If you want to read about giants or
mermaids or shipwrecks or athletic contests or enchanters or furious
battles or the capture of cities or voyages to strange countries, all you
have to do is to open the Iliad and the Odyssey, and you will find stories
on all of these subjects. Homer can describe a foot-race or the throwing
of a discus so that you hold your breath to see who will win; and he can
picture a battle so vividly that you almost try to dodge the arrows and
spears. He can make the tears come into your eyes by telling you of the
grief of the warrior's wife when he leaves her and their baby son to go to
battle; and he can almost make you shout, "Hurrah for the brave champion!"
when he tells you what wonderful deeds of prowess have been done. He can
describe a shield so minutely that you could make one like it; and he can
paint a scene of feasting so perfectly that you feel as if you had been in
the very room.

How is it that Homer makes his stories seem so real? There are several
reasons, but one of the strongest is because he tells the little things
that writers often forget to put in. When he describes the welcome given
to two strangers at the house of the lost Ulysses, by Telemachus, son of
the wanderer, he begins, "When they were come within the lofty hall, he
carried the spear to a tall pillar and set it in a well-worn rack." That
one word, "well-worn," gives us the feeling that Homer is not making up a
story, but that he has really seen the rack and noticed how it looked. The
same sentence shows why it is that people do not tire of reading Homer. It
ends, "where also stood many a spear of hardy Ulysses." This reminds the
reader that in spite of the hero's long years of absence, no one has been
allowed to remove his weapons from their old place. From this one phrase,
then, we can realize how much his wife and son love him, and how they have
mourned for him. Telemachus welcomes the strangers, but we can feel how
eager he is for them to be made comfortable as soon as possible so he can
talk of his father and learn whether they have chanced to meet him in
their wanderings. Homer's poems are full of such sentences as these; and,
no matter how many times one reads them, some thought, unnoticed before,
is ever coming to light. That is why they are always fresh and new and
interesting.

There is a tradition that Homer was blind, and that he wandered about from
one place to another, singing or reciting his poems; but this is only
tradition, and there is little hope that we shall ever be able to find out
whether it is true or not.

Homer's great poem, the Iliad, is the account of the Trojan War. His
Odyssey relates the adventures of the hero Ulysses, or Odysseus, as the
Greeks called him, in many years of wandering at the close of the war
before his enemies among the Gods would permit him to return to his home.
There were Trojan heroes, however, as well as Greek, and AEneas was one of
them. Virgil, the Latin poet, has told in the AEneid the story of his
troubles and adventures. AEneas, too, was driven over the waters, for the
Gods had told him it was the will of Jupiter, or Zeus, as it is in Greek,
for him to seek Italy and there found a city. Part of his journey is the
same as that of Ulysses. He, too, stops at the country of the one-eyed
giants and has to row as fast as he can to escape the rocks that they
throw at his vessel. He, too, hears the thunders of Mount AEtna and sees
the flashing of the fires of the volcano. His sailors point to it in fear
and whisper to one another, "That is the giant Enceladus. He rebelled
against the Gods and they piled the mountain on top of him. The fires of
Jupiter burn him, and he breathes out glowing flames. When he tosses from
one side to the other, the whole island of Sicily is shaken with a mighty
earthquake."

Virgil was no homeless singer; he was one of the great literary men of
Rome, and he read his poems aloud to the Emperor Augustus. He had a
handsome villa and a troop of friends. He enjoyed everything that was
beautiful and seemed as happy when a friend had written a good poem as if
he had composed it himself. He was never satisfied with his verse till he
had made every line as perfect as possible. When he was ill and knew that
he could not recover, he made a will, and in it he ordered the AEneid to be
burned, because it was not so polished as he wished. "I meant to spend
three years more on it," he said. Fortunately for all the people who enjoy
a great poem, the Emperor forbade that this part of the will should be
carried out. He gave the manuscript to three friends of Virgil, all of
them poets, with orders to strike out every phrase that they believed
Virgil would have struck out on revision, but not to add one word. This is
the way that the AEneid was saved for us. If it had been destroyed, we
should have lost the work of one of the best storytellers that have ever
lived.

Livy, too, was a friend of the Emperor Augustus, He lived in Rome,
enjoying his companions, the libraries of the city, and, most of all, his
independence. Even Virgil was ready to insert a few lines here and there
in a poem to gratify his friends, or to choose a subject that he knew
would please the Emperor; but Livy wrote on the subject that pleased him
and treated it just as he believed to be best. His great work was his
history, and this he begins with a little preface, as independent as it is
graceful. "Whether I shall gain any share of glory," he says, "by writing
a history of the Roman people, I do not know. The work, however, will be a
pleasure to me; and even if any fame that might otherwise be mine should
be hidden by the success of other writers, I shall console myself by
thinking of their excellence and greatness." No such thing happened,
however, for the kindly historian was so praised and his work so fully
appreciated that he said he had all the fame he could wish.

Herodotus was a Greek who liked to travel. The world was very small in his
day, for little of it was known except some of the lands bordering on the
Mediterranean. To visit Tyre, Babylon, Egypt, Palestine, and the islands
of the eastern Mediterranean, as he did, made a man a great traveler five
centuries before Christ. Herodotus enjoyed all these wanderings, but they
also "meant business" to him. Whenever he came to a place of historical
interest, he stayed awhile. He explored the country thereabouts, he
measured the important buildings, he talked with the people who knew most
about the place. Then, when he came to write of its history, he did not
write like a man who had read an article or two in an encyclopaedia and was
trying to recite what he had learned, but like one who knew the place
which he was describing and liked to talk about it, and about what had
happened there. It is no wonder that his history has always been a
favorite; and to be a favorite author for twenty centuries is no small
glory.

Ovid was a Latin poet who knew how to tell a story. He could not only
invent a tale, but he could tell it so well that the reader feels as if it
must be true. His most interesting stories, however, he did not invent,
for they are a rewriting of the old mythological tales. In one respect he
is like Homer; he never forgets the little things, and he tells so many
details that we can hardly believe he is imagining them. In his story of
Baucis and Philemon, for instance, Ovid does not forget to say that the
cottage door was so low that the two gods had to stoop to pass through it;
that Baucis hurried to brighten the fire with dry leaves and bits of bark;
that one leg of the table was too short and had to be propped up with a
piece of tile. He tells us that the kindhearted couple tried to catch
their one goose so as to cook it for the supper of their guests; but that
they were so old, and the goose so nimble of wing, that he escaped them
and flew to the Gods for refuge. We are so accustomed to think of Latin as
a grave, dignified language that almost every line of Ovid's
"Metamorphoses" is a pleasant surprise. The stories that he tells, "The
Miraculous Pitcher", "The Golden Touch", "The Pomegranate Seeds", and
others, retold by Hawthorne, are favorites among the boys and girls of
to-day, and they must have been liked just as well by the Roman children.
In Rome the children read the great poets in school, and I fancy that they
were always glad when the hour came to read the "Metamorphoses."




STORIES FROM HERODOTUS


LADRONIUS, THE PRINCE OF THIEVES

Retold by G. H. Boden and W. Barrington d'Almeida


Many hundreds of years ago, not long after the Greeks returned from the
famous siege of Troy, there lived a king of Egypt, whose name was
Rhampsinitus. So great a king was he, that he kept a small army constantly
employed in supplying the royal household with food, and another small
army was required to keep the gardens of the palace in order. And had any
one been bold enough to doubt the greatness of the king, he need only have
looked at his magnificent dress to set all doubts at rest forever. Upon
the neck of the king was a heavy necklace, glittering with priceless
jewels, and on his arms were massive bracelets of pure gold. A golden
serpent, the symbol of royalty, gleamed from his forehead, and his golden
breastplate showed the sacred beetle worked in precious stones, to protect
him from evil spirits. Whenever he appeared in the streets of his capital,
he was borne in the royal chair on the shoulders of eight of his
courtiers, while on each side walked a great noble carrying a fan, shaped
like a palm leaf, with a long, straight stem. In front marched the
bodyguard of Sardinians, men with fair skins and blue eyes, who looked
very much out of place among the swarthy Egyptians; and last of all came
the grim, black guards from Ethiopia, with their sabres flashing in the
sun. And all the people fell on their faces and kissed the dust before
their royal master. Moreover, King Rhampsinitus erected several enormous
statues of himself, as well as many fine palaces and a beautiful temple,
bearing inscriptions which related all his great and glorious deeds, so
that the people who lived after him might know how great a king he had
been.

But, in spite of all his greatness, there was one thing that prevented
King Rhampsinitus from being a happy man. He had so many treasures--masses
of silver, nuggets of gold, and bags of gold-dust, jewelry, precious
stones, and carvings in ivory--that he lived in constant fear of being
robbed. He had all his treasures packed in large jars and strong chests,
which were securely fastened, sealed up, and stowed away in a strong room
of the palace; but even then he did not feel comfortable, for might not
the palace be broken into by a clever thief and part of his treasure
stolen, while he slept? Besides, there was so much treasure packed away
already, that it was difficult to find a safe place for any more. His
anxiety made the king so unhappy, and caused him so many sleepless nights,
that he determined at last to build a large chamber of stone, with walls
too thick for any thief to break through. He sent for his chief architect,
who collected a great multitude of workmen and set to work building the
chamber without delay. Whole villages were compelled to join in the work;
even the old men and children were employed in carrying away rubbish,
bringing water and clay, and doing other work that was not too hard for
them. The stronger and more skillful workmen hewed great blocks of
granite, which were dragged to the place on wooden sledges; and, as they
had no cranes to lift the stones into their places on the walls, they were
obliged to build mounds of sand and rough bricks, and roll up each stone
gradually with wooden levers, until they got it into its proper place. It
was terribly hard work, but there were so many workmen, and the foremen
used their whips so unmercifully, that the walls rose very rapidly.

Now the architect was a cunning man, and guessed what the chamber was
intended to hold. He therefore fitted one stone in such a way that it
would slide down and leave a hole just large enough for a man to crawl
through; and yet, when you looked at the wall, there was no sign at all by
which the secret could be discovered. Nor did the architect think it
necessary to mention the secret opening to his majesty, when he showed the
chamber to him and told him that it was as strong as he could make it.

Rhampsinitus lost no time in moving his treasures into the new
treasure-chamber. The key he kept with him night and day, so that at last
he could sleep peacefully, knowing that any one who wished to pass the
solid, brass-bound door, must first prevail upon him to unlock it.

For some time all went well. The king went to the treasury every morning,
and found everything in its place. Evidently he had been too clever for
the thieves.

In the mean time the architect was lying ill in bed, and day by day he
grew weaker and weaker; until at length he knew that his end was
approaching, and, calling his two sons to his bedside, he told them of the
secret way into the treasure-chamber.

"I have little of my own to leave you, my sons," he said, "and I have but
little influence at court; but by the aid of this secret, which I devised
for your sake, you may become rich men, and hold the office of king's
treasurers for life."

The young men were delighted at his words, and so impatient were they to
enjoy their good fortune, that on the very night of their father's funeral
they stole away quietly to the place where the treasure-house stood. They
found the sliding stone exactly as their father had described it. The
younger and slimmer of the two brothers crawled through the opening and
found himself in a dark chamber, surrounded by heavy chests and jars with
sealed covers. Breaking open one of the latter, he put in his hand and
drew out a handful of gold, which sparkled and twinkled at him even in the
faint light which came through the hole in the wall. Handful after handful
he drew out and passed to his brother, at the same time filling the bags
he had brought with him, until both had as much as they could conveniently
carry. Then they replaced the stone, and returned to lay the treasure
before their mother; for in those days stealing was considered rather a
clever trick, and even the thief's mother did not scold him, so long as he
was not so clumsy as to be caught.

Imagine the consternation of King Rhampsinitus when he visited the chamber
the following morning! Everything seemed as secure as ever, and yet, when
he opened the door, there lay one of the great jars turned over and empty,
while the lid of one of the chests was broken open and part of the
contents scattered on the floor. He examined every nook and cranny of the
chamber from floor to ceiling, and there was no sign of any one's having
forced an entrance. The fastenings of the door were firm, and the lock was
one which it was perfectly impossible to pick. For greater security,
however, Rhampsinitus sent at once for a locksmith, and commanded him to
fit the door with a second lock, the key of which he kept with the other.

Notwithstanding this precaution, the treasure-chamber was robbed again on
the next night, and this time the thieves had broken open a great many of
the chests, and carried away some of the most valuable jewels. On the
following night a sentinel was posted, and still the treasury was robbed.
The sentinel vowed that he had stood with his back to the door all night,
and there is little doubt that he spoke the truth, though the poor fellow
was accused of sleeping at his post, and punished for his negligence.

Then the king took counsel of the fan-bearer on the right hand, who was
also prime minister. He made a long speech, beginning with his regret that
his majesty had not thought fit to consult him earlier, and concluding
with a learned discourse on the habits of rats.

"This is all very interesting," said Rhampsinitus, "but I do not see that
it helps very much to protect my treasure."

"I crave your majesty's pardon," the prime minister answered. "I was about
to observe that the best way to catch a rat is first to study the habits
and tastes of the rat, and next to apply the knowledge so gained in
setting a trap."

From which one may see that the prime minister was a very learned man, and
could not be expected to come to the point all at once. The king thanked
him for his valuable advice, and procured two or three powerful man-traps,
which he placed within his treasure-chamber.

Night came on, and the two thieves set to work as before, but no sooner
had the younger brother disappeared through the hole in the wall than he
began to utter loud cries of agony.

"Peace, brother! You will rouse the guard," said the elder. "What can have
befallen you?"

The other controlled himself, and said with a groan, "Ladronius, we are
ruined. I am held fast in a trap, and I think my leg is broken. O Horus,
Lord of Life, deliver me!"

With some difficulty Ladronius crawled through the opening to aid his
brother, for, though a thief, he was no coward.

"Go back, Ladronius, go back!" cried his brother. "Leave me to my fate! I
think I hear the cries of the guard. No, brother, waste no more time!" he
entreated, as Ladronius tugged in vain at the cruel teeth of the trap.
"One thing remains to be done. Cut off my head, and take it away with you,
that I may not be recognized and so we both perish! I hear the footsteps
of men approaching. Do not rob our mother of both her sons!"

And Ladronius, seeing that there was nothing else to be done, drew his
sword, cut off his brother's head, and escaped through the opening, not
forgetting to replace the stone behind him. He was only just in time, for
scarcely had he gained the cover of a clump of trees, when the soldiers of
the guard came running to the place and began to belabor the door. To
their surprise they found everything quiet and nothing displaced. They
examined the outside of the building thoroughly, and then, supposing that
they had been roused by a false alarm, they returned to the palace.

In the morning, Rhampsinitus paid his daily visit to the chamber, and
discovered the headless body in the trap. He was more puzzled than ever.
He examined the fastenings of the door and the whole of the chamber over
and over again, and no hole nor crevice could he find.

"Nevertheless," said he, "I have now bait for my trap. What can I do
better than set a thief to catch a thief?"

So he ordered the body to be hung from the outer wall of the chamber, and
placed sentinels to guard it, strictly charging them to bring before him
any one who showed pity or sorrow for the dead.

When the mother heard of her son's death and how the body had been
treated, she reproached Ladronius bitterly for his cowardice, and implored
him with many tears to bring back the body for proper burial. For the
Egyptians thought that unless a man's body were properly embalmed and
buried whole, he could have no life in the next world; so that it would be
a terrible misfortune if the head and the body were buried separately.
Ladronius attempted to comfort his mother, but did not dare to carry off
his brother's body so long as the sentinels were watching. In vain his
mother wept and entreated him, until at last her grief was turned to
anger, and she vowed that, if he did not obey her, she would go to the
king and tell him the whole story. Then Ladronius, seeing her so
determined, promised to do as she wished, and set his wits to work to
invent some means of carrying off the body without being caught by the
sentinels. At last he thought of a plan, which seemed to have some chance
of success. He hired two donkeys, and having bought some wineskins, which
were used in the place of bottles, he filled them with strong wine and
placed them on the donkeys' backs.

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