CHAPTER I HEREDITY AND ANTECEDENTS'These are thy works, O father, these thy crown,Whether on high the air be pure they shineAlong the yellowing sunset, and all nightAmong the unnumbered stars of God they shine.Or whether fogs arise, and far and wideThe low sea-level drown—each finds a tongue,And all night long the tolling bell resounds.So shine so toll till night be overpast,Till the stars... more...

CHAPTER I THE LIGHTHOUSE BUILDERS ". . . For the sakeOf these, my kinsmen and my countrymen,Who early and late in the windy ocean toiledTo plant a star for seamen." The pirate, Ralph the Rover, so legend tells, while cruising off the coast of Scotland searching for booty or sport, sank the warning bell on one of the great rocks, to plague the good Abbot of Arbroath who had put it there. The... more...

SELECTED PASSAGES When you have read, you carry away with you a memory of the man himself; it is as though you had touched a loyal hand, looked into brave eyes, and made a noble friend; there is another bond on you thenceforward, binding you to life and to the love of virtue. It is to some more specific memory that youth looks forward in its vigils. Old kings are sometimes disinterred in all the... more...

SALISBURY PLAIN "We passed over the goodly plain, or rather sea of carpet, which I think for evenness, extent, verdure, and innumerable flocks, to be one of the most delightful prospects in nature."—"Evelyn's Diary," 1654. There is not a county in England which does not pride itself upon some outstanding characteristic which places it in a category by itself. And if there be a... more...

Slovenly BetsyBetsy would never wash herselfWhen from her bed she rose,But just as quickly as she couldShe hurried on her clothes.To keep her clothes all nice and cleanMiss Betsy took no pains;In holes her stockings always were,Her dresses filled with stains.Sometimes she went day after dayAnd never combed her hair,While little feathers from her bedStuck on it here and there.The schoolboys, when they... more...

CHAPTER I It was spring, thousands of years ago. Little boys snatched the April violets, and with them painted purple stripes upon their arms and faces. Then they played that enemies came. "Be afraid!" shouted one, frowning; and he stamped his foot and shook his fist at the play enemies. "I am fine!" called the other; and he held his head high, and took big steps, and looked this way... more...

The Nemæan Lion. By Juno's hate urged on, Alcmena's Son,At sixteen years his noble toils begun.Nemæa's dreadful Lion first he sought,The savage slew & to Eurystheus brought,From his huge sides his shaggy spoils he tore,Around him threw, & e'er in triumph wore. 2 On Lerna's pest th' undaunted Hero rushes,With massy club her hundred heads he crushes,In vain. One... more...

Preface here is no need here to enter a plea for story-telling. Its value in the home and in the school is assured. Miss Bryant, in her charming book, How to Tell Stories to Children, says, "Perhaps never, since the really old days, has story-telling so nearly reached a recognized level of dignity as a legitimate and general art of entertainment as now." And, in the guise of entertainment, the... more...

You who know something of the irony of life in general, and still more of it in the present particular, will not be surprised that, having made two strict rules for my guidance in the writing of this book, I break them both in the first page! Indeed, I can hear you say, though without any touch of the satirical, that it was only natural that I should do so. The first of my two rules, heartily approved... more...

AUGUST lived in a little town called Hall. Hall is a favorite name for several towns in Austria and in Germany; but this one especial little Hall, in the Upper Innthal, is one of the most charming Old-World places that I know, and August for his part did not know any other. It has the green meadows and the great mountains all about it, and the gray-green glacier-fed water rushes by it. It has paved... more...