• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 A dog of Flanders
 The king of the Golden River
 The lady of Shalott
 Marjorie Fleming
 Little Jakey
 The lost child
 Goody gracious! And the forget...
 A faded leaf of history
 A child's dream of a star
 Back Cover
 Spine






Group Title: Little classics ;, v. 10
Title: Childhood edited by Rossiter Johnson
CITATION PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00028270/00001
 Material Information
Title: Childhood edited by Rossiter Johnson
Series Title: Little classics
Physical Description: 227 p. : ; 16 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Johnson, Rossiter, 1840-1931 ( Editor )
Houghton, Mifflin and Company ( Publisher )
Riverside Press (Cambridge, Mass.) ( Publisher )
Publisher: Houghton, Mifflin and Company
Riverside Press
Place of Publication: Boston
Cambridge
Publication Date: c1875
 Subjects
Subject: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1875   ( lcsh )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1875   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1875
Genre: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Publishers' advertisements   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
United States -- Massachusetts -- Cambridge
 Notes
General Note: Title page in a red ruled border.
General Note: Publisher's advertisement precedes text.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00028270
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002224001
notis - ALG4258
oclc - 60884026

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Page 1
    Front Matter
        Page 2
        Page 3
    Title Page
        Page 4
        Page 5
    Table of Contents
        Page 6
    A dog of Flanders
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
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    The king of the Golden River
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
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    The lady of Shalott
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
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        Page 93
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        Page 103
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        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
    Marjorie Fleming
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
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        Page 138
        Page 139
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    Little Jakey
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
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    The lost child
        Page 174
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        Page 176
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        Page 178
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    Goody gracious! And the forget-me-not
        Page 183
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    A faded leaf of history
        Page 202
        Page 203
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
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    A child's dream of a star
        Page 223
        Page 224
        Page 225
        Page 226
        Page 227
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text










LITTLE CLASSICS.:

A series of exquisitely printed little : in
flexible binding and red edges, which .i -the
very, in our literature i : of
short tales and sketches." Buffalo Courier..

The Series includes 18 volumes, as allows:
EXILE. ,-' .
INTELLECT. c ....
TRAGEDY. .4. .4 T.-E
LIFE. i .:
LA UGHTER. LYRICAL POEMS.
LOVE. MINOR POEMS.
ROMANCE. NATURE.
MYSTERY. HUMANITY.
..' J A AUTHORS.
'C., 1 .'.-.7
I *. lu.T- .- I ..dges, $1.0o each. The set inbox,
i s r- r.it :alf, or half morocco, $45.00.
1 b ': *". I o volumes in one, 9 vols., i6mo, in
- box, cloth, $13.50; half calf, $27.00; tree calf, $40.50.
"No more delightful reading can be conceived than
the polished and attractive papers that are selected for
this series." Boston Gazette.
"Too much praise cannot be accorded the projectors
of this work. It lays, for a very small sum, the cream
of the best writers before the reader of average means.
It usually happens that very few, except professional
people and scholars, care to read all that even the most
famous men have written. They want his best work, -
the one people talk most about,- and when they have
read that they are satisfied." N. Y. Com. Advertiser.
#* For sale by Booksellers. Sent, post-paid, on re-
ceipt office, by the Publishers,
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO., BOSTON, MASS.





-, I-


Zcunti l3olmie.


LITTLE CLASSICS.


EDITED BY



ROSSITER JOHNSON.





CHILDHOOD.


A DOG OF FLANDERS. THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. THE LADY OF
SHALOTT -MARJORIE FLEMING,-LITTLE dAKEY.-THE LOST
CHILD.-GOODY GRACIOUS I AND THE FORGET-ME-
NOT.-A FADED LEAF OF HISTORY--A
CHILD'S DREAM OF A STAR.







BOSTON:
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY.































COPYRIGHT, IF75.
By JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO.
























CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED AT THE RIVERSIDE PRESS.













b.% Qs. _.- -. -.
: I t"I<: ,,--J_


CONTENTS.


PAGE
A DOG OF FLANDERS .. ..''- .' ;..r. 7
THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER John euskin 56
THE LADY OF. SHALOTT .. Elizabeth Stuart Phelps 89
MARJORIE FLEMING. .. .John Brown, M. D. 108
LITTLE JAKEY. ... Mrs. S. H DeEroyft 141
TnI LOST CHILD .. Henry Kingsley 174
GOODY GRACIOUS AND THE FOR-
GET-ME-NOT ..... John Neal .. .. 183
A FADED LEAF OF HISTORY Rebecca Harding Davis 202
A CHILD'S DREAM OF A STAR Charles Dickens 223
















A DOG OF FLANDERS.



ELLO and Patrasche were left all alone in the

l hey were friends in a friendship closer than
brotherhood. Nello was a little Ardennois,- Patrasche
was a big Fleming. They were both of the same age by
length of years, yet one was still young, and the other
was already old. They had dwelt .... i-. almost all
their days; both were orphaned and destitute, and owed
their lives to the same hand. It had been the beginning
of the tie between them, their first bond of sympathy;
and it had strengthened day by day, and had grown with
their growth, firm and indissoluble, until they loved one
another very greatly.
Their home was a little hut on the edge of a little
village,- a Flemish village a league from Antwerp, set
amidst flat breadths of pasture and corn-lands, with long
lines of poplars and of alders bending in the breeze on
the edge of the great canal which ran through it. It
had about a score of houses and homesteads, with shut-
ters of bright green or sky-blue, and roofs rose-red or







0 LITTLE CLASSICS.

black and white, and walls whitewashed until they shone
in the sun like snow. In the centre of the village stood
a windmill, placed on a little moss-groxin slope; it was
a landmark to all the level country round. It had once
been painted scarlet, sails and all, but that had been in
its infancy, half a century or more earlier, when it had
ground wheat for the soldiers of Napoleon; and it was
now a ruddy brown, tanned by wind and weather. It
went queerly by fits and starts, as though rheumatic and
stiff in the joints from age, but it served the whole neigh-
borhood, which would have 1-h.,,1, it almost as impious
to carry grain elsewhere, as to attend any other religious
service than the mass that was performed at the altar of
the little old gray church, with its conical steeple, which
stood opposite to it, and whose single bell rang morning,
noon, and night with that strange, subdued, hollow sad-
ness which every bell that hangs in the Low Countries
seems to gain as an integral part of its melody.
Within sound of the little melancholy clock almost
from their birth upward, they had dwelt together, Nello
and Patrasche, in the little hut on the edge of the village,
with the cathedral spire of Antwerp rising in the north-
east, beyond the great green plain of seeding grass and
spreading corn that stretched away from them like a
tideless, changeless sea. It was the hut of a very old
man, of a very poor man, of old Jehan Daas, who in
his time had been a soldier, and who remembered the
wars that had trampled the country as oxen tread down
the furrows, and who had brought from his service noth-
ing except a wound, which had made him a cripple.
When old Jehan Daas had reached his full eighty, his






A DOG OF FLANDERS. 9

daughter had died in the Ardennes, hard by Stavelot,
and had left him in legacy her two-year-old son. The
old man could ill contrive to support himself, but he
took up the additional burden uncomplaiinigly, and it
soon became welcome and precious to him. Little Nello
-which was but a pet diminutive for Nicolas -throve
with him, and the old man and the little child lived in
the poor little hut contentedly.
It was a very humble little mud-hut indeed, but it was
clean and white as a sea-shell, and stood in a small plot
of garden-ground that yielded beaus and herbs and pump-
kins. They were very poor, terribly poor, many a day
they had nothing at all to eat. They never by any chance
had enough; to have had enough to eat would have been
to have reached paradise at once. But the old man was
very .,i. and good to the boy, and tlhe boy was a beau-
tiful, innocent, truthful, tender-natured creature; and
they were happy on a crust and a few leaves of cabbage,
and asked no more of earth or Heaven; save indeed that
Patrasche should be always with them, since without
Patrasche where would they have been?
For Patrasche was their alpha and omega ; their treas-
ury and granary ; their store of gold and wand of wealth;
their bread-winner and minister; their only friend and
comforter. Patrasche dead or gone from them, they
must have laid themselves down and died likewise. Pa-
trasche was body, brains, hands, head, and feet to both
of them: Patrasche was their very life, their very soul.
For Jehan Daas was old and a cripple, and Nello was
but a child; and Patrasche was their dog.
A dog of Flanders, yellow of hide, large of head and
1*







10 LITTLE CLASSICS.

limb, with wolf-like ears that stood erect, and legs bowed
and feet widened in the muscular development wrought
in his breed by many generations of hard service. Pa-
trasche came of a race which had toiled hard and i .11
from sire to son in Flanders many a century, slaves of
slaves, dogs of the people, beasts of the shafts and the
harness, creatures that lived straining their sinews in
the gall of the cart, and died breaking their hearts on
the flints of the streets.
Patrasche had been born of parents who had labored
hard all their days over the sharp-set stones of the various
cities and the long, shadowless, weary roads of the two
Flanders and of Brabant. He had been born to no other
heritage than those of pain and of toil. He had been fed
on curses and baptized with blows. Why not ? It was
a Christian country, and Patrasche was but a dog. Be-
fore he was fully grown he had known the bitter gall
of the cart and the collar. Before he had entered his
thirteenth month he had become the property of a hard-
ware-dealer, who was accustomed to wander over the
land north and south, from the blue sea to the green
mountains. They sold him for a small price, because he
was so young.
This man was a drunkard and a brute. The life of
Patrasche was a life of hell. To deal the tortures of hell
on the animal creation is a way which the Christians
have of showing their belief in it. His purchaser was
a sullen, :Il i .... brutal Brabantois, who heaped his cart
full with pots and pans and ili...... and buckets, and
other wares of crockery and brass and tin, and left Pa-
trasche to draw the load as best he might, whilst he him-







A DOG OF FLANDERS. 11

self l ...... .1 idly by the side in fat and sluggish ease,
smoking his black pipe and stopping at every wineshop
or caf6 on the road.
Happily for Patrasche -or unhappily -he was very
strong: he came of an iron race, long born and bred to
such cruel travail; so that he did not die, but managed
to drag on a wretched existence under the brutal burdens,
the i lashes, the hunger, the thirst, the blows,
the curses, and the exhaustion which are the only wages
with which the Fli. ,,,,.. repay the most patient and
laborious of all their four-footed victims. One day, after
two years of this long and deadly agony, Patrasche was
going on as usual along one of the straight, dusty, un-
lovely roads that lead to the city of Rubens. It was full
midsummer, and very warm. His cart was very heavy,
piled high with goods in metal and in earthenware. His
owner sauntered on without noticing him otherwise than
by the crack of the whip as it curled round his quivering
loins. The Brabantois had paused to drink beer himself
at every wayside house, but he had forbidden Patrasche
to stop a moment for a draught from the canal. Going
along thus, in the full sun, on a scorching highway,
having eaten 1.. .rhI;.- for twenty-four hours, and, which
was far worse to him, not having tasted water for nearly
twelve, being blind with dust, sore with blows, and
stupefied with the merciless weight which dragged upon
his loins, Patrasche, for once, staggered and foamed a
little at the mouth, and fell.
He fell in the middle of the white, dusty road, in the
full glare of the sun : lie was sick unto death, and mo-
tionless. His master gave him the only mediine in his






LITTLE CLASSICS.


pharmacy, --kicks and oaths and blows with a cudgel
of oak, which had been often the only food and drink,
the only wage and reward, ever offered to him. But
Patrasche was beyond the reach of any torture or of
any curses. Patrasche lay, dead to all appearances,
down in the white powder of the summer dust. After
a while, finding it useless to assail his ribs with punish-
ment and his ears with maledictions, the Brabantois-
deeming life gone in him, or going so nearly that his
carcass was forever useless, unless indeed some one
should strip -it of the skin for gloves cirsed him
fiercely in farewell, struck off the leather bands of the
harness, kicked his body heavily aside into the grass,
and, groaning and muttering in savage wrath, pushed
the cart lazily along the road up hill, and left the dying
dog there for the ants to sting and for the crows to pick.
It was the last day before Kermesse away at Louvain,
and the Brabantois was in haste to reach the fair and
get a good place for his truck of brass wares. He was
in fierce wrath, because Patrasche had been a strong
and much-enduring animal, and because he himself had
now the hard task of pushing his charette all the way to
Louvain. But to stay to look after Patrasche never
entered his li,..,, i.i : the beast was dying and useless,
and he would steal, to replace him, the first large dog
that he found wandering alone out of sight of its master.
Patrasche had cost him nothing, or next to i,.. 11.1.. and
for two long, cruel years he had made him toil ceaselessly
in his service from sunrise to sunset, through summer
and winter, in fair weather and foul.
He had got a fair use and a good profit out of Pa-







A DOG OF FLANDERS. I1

trasche: being human, he was wise, and left the dog to
draw his last breath alone in the ditch, and have his
bloodshot eyes plucked out as they might be by tie birds,
whilst he himself went on his way to beg and to steal,
to eat and to drink, to dance and to sing, in the mirth
at Louvain. A dying dog, a dog of the cart, why
should he waste hours over its agonies at peril of losing
a handful of copper coins, at peril of a shout of laugh-
ter?
Patrasche lay there, flung in the grass-green ditch.
It was a busy road that day, and hundreds of people, on
foot and on mules, in wagons or in carts, went by,
tramping quickly and joyously on to Louvain. Some
saw him, most did not even look: all passed on. A
dead dog more or less, -it was nothing in Brabant: it
would be :.. lin, anywhere in the world.
After a time, amongst the holiday-makers, there came
a little old man who was bent and lame, and very feeble.
He was in no guise for feasting: he was very poorly
and miserably clad, and he dragged his silent way slowly
through the dust amongst the pleasure-seekers. He
looked at Patrasche, paused, wondered, turned aside,
then kneeled down in the rank grass and weeds of the
ditch, and surveyed the dog with kindly eyes of pity.
There was with him a little rosy, fair-haired, dark-eyed
child of a few years old, who pattered in amidst the
bushes, that were for him breast-high, and stood gazing
with a pretty seriousness upon the poor great, quiet
beast.
Thus it was that these two first met, the little Nello
and the big Patrasche.







LITTLE CLASSICS.


The upshot of that day was, that old Jehan Daas, with
much laborious effort, drew the sufferer homeward to
his owli little hut, which was a stone's-throw off amidst
the fields, and there tended him with so much care that
the sickness, which had been a brain-seizure, brought
on by heat and thirst and exhaustion, with time and
shade and rest passed away, and health and strength
returned, and Patrasche staggered up again upon his
four stout, tawny legs.
Now for many weeks he had been useless, powerless,
sore, near to death; but all this time he had heard no
rough word, had felt no harsh touch, but only the pitying
murmurs of the little child's voice and the soothing caress
of the old man's hand.
In his sickness they two had grown to care for him,
this lonely old man and the little happy child. He had
a corner of the hut, with a heap of dry grass for his bed;
and they had learned to listen eagerly for his breathing
in the dark night, to tell them that he lived; and when
he first was well enough to essay a loud, hollow, broken
bay, they laughed aloud, and almost wept together for
joy at such a sign of his sure restoratioli; and little
Nello, in delighted glee, hung round his rugged neck
with chains of marguerites, and kissed him with fresh
and ruddy lips.
So then, when Patrasche arose, himself again, strong,
big, gaunt, powerful, his great wistful eyes had a .. -l.
astonishment in them that there were no curses to rouse
him and no blows to drive him; and his heart awakened
to a mighty love, which never wavered once in its fidelity
whilst life abode with him.






A DOG OF FLANDERS.


But Patrasche, being a dog, was grateful. Patrasche
lay pondering long with grave, tender, musing brown
eyes, watching the movements of his friends.
Now, the old soldier, Jehan Daas, could do nothing
for his living but limp about a little with a small cart,
with which le carried daily the milk-cans of those hap-
pier neighbors who owned cattle away into the town of
Antwerp. The villagers gave him the employment a
little out of charity, more because it suited them well
to send their milk into the town by so honest a carrier,
and bide at home themselves to look after their gardens,
their cows, their poultry, or their little fields. But it
was .becoming hard work for the old man. He was
; r-i,- ..:. and Antwerp was a good league off, or
more.
Patrasche watched the milk-cans come and go that
one day when he had got well and was lying in the
sun with the wreath of marguerites round his tawny
neck.
The next morning, Patrasche, before the old man had
touched the cart, arose and walked to it and placed him-
self betwixt its handles, and testified as plainly as dumb
show could do his desire and his ability to work in re-
turn for the bread of charity that he had eaten. Jehan
Daas resisted long, for the old man was one of those
who thought it a foul shame to bind dogs to labor for
which Nature never formed them. But Patrasche would
not be gainsayed: :'i,1.n_- they did not harness him, he
tried to draw the cart onward with his teeth.
At length Jehan Daas gave way, vanquished by the
persistence and the gratitude of this'creature whom he






LITTLE CLASSICS.


had succored. He fashioned his cart so that Patrasche
could run in it, and this he did every morning of his life
thenceforward..
When the winter came, Jehan Daas thanked the
blessed fortune that had brought him to the dying
dog in the ditch that fair-day of Louvain; for lie was
very old, and he grew feebler with each year, and he
would ill have known how to pull his load of milk-cans
over the snows and through the deep ruts in the mud
if it had not been for the strength and the industry of
the animal he had befriended.. As for Patrasche, it
seemed heaven to him. After the frightful burdens that
his old master had compelled him to strain under, at the
call of the whip at every step, it seemed nothing to him
but amusement to step out with this little light green
cart, with its bright brass cans, by the side of the gentle
old man who always paid him with a tender caress and
with a 1.;I1i word. Besides, his work was over by
three or four in the day, and after that time lie was free
to do as he would, -to stretch himself, to sleep in the
sun, to wander in the fields, to; romp with the young
child, or to play with his fll. .... Patrasche was
very happy.
Fortunately for his peace, his former owner was killed
in a drunken brawl at the Kermesse of Mechlin, and so
sought not after him nor disturbed him in his new and
well-loved home.
A few years later, old Jehan Daas, who had always
been a cripple, became so paralyzed with rheumatism
that it was impossible for him to go out with the cart
any more. Then little Nello, being now grown to his





A DOG OF FLANDERS. 17

sixth year of age, and knowing the town well from
having accompanied his -1. ,.,,iiii.. so many times, took
his place beside the cart, and sold the milk and received
the coins in exchange, and brought them back to their
respective owners with a pretty grace and seriousness
which charmed all who beheld him.
The little Ardennois was a beautiful child, with dark,
grave, tender eyes, and a lovely bloom upon his face,
and fair locks that clustered to his throat; and many
an, artist sketched the group as it went by him, -the
green cart with the brass flagons of Tenicrs and Micris
and Van Tal, and the great tawny-colored, massive dog,
with his belled harness that. chimed cheerily as he went,
and the small figure that ran beside him which had little
white feet in great wooden shoes, and a soft, grave, inno-
cent, happy face like the little fair children .1 I:;l ..1.
Nello and Patrasche did the work so well and sojoy-
fully together that Jehan Daas himself, when the summer
came and he was better again, had no need to stir out,
but could sit in the doorway in the sun and see them
go forth through the garden wicket, and then doze and
dream and pray a little, and then awake again as the
clock tolled three and watch for their return. And on
their return Patrasche would shake himself free of his
harness with a bay of glee, and Nello would recount
with pride the doings of the day; and they would all
go in together to their meal of rye bread and milk or
soup, and would see the shadows lengthen over the great
plain, and see the twilight veil the fair cathedral spire;
and then lie down together to sleep peacefully while the
Sold man said a prayer.






LITTLE CLASSICS,


So the days and the years went on, and the lives of
Nello and Patrasche were happy, innocent, and health-
fill.
In tile spring and summer especially were they glad.
Flanders is not a lovely land, and around the burgh of
Rubens it is perhaps least lovely of all. Corn and colza,
pasture and plough, succeed each other on the charac-'
terless plain in wearying repetition, and save by some
gaunt gray tower, with its peal of pathetic bells, or some
figure coming athwart the fields, made picturesque by
a gleaner's bundle or a woodman's fagot, there is no
change, no variety, no beauty anywhere; and he who
has dwelt upon the mountains or amidst the forests feels
oppressed as by imprisonment with the tedium and the
endlessness of that vast and dreary level. But it is
green and very fertile, and it has wide horizons that
have a certain charm of their own even in their dulness
and -i....."..11.. ; and amongst the rushes by the water-
side the flowers grow, and the trees rise tall and fresh
where the barges glide with their great hulks black
against the sun, and their little green barrels and vari-
colored flags gay against the leaves. Anyway, there is
greenery and breadth of space enough to be as good as
beauty to a child and a dog; and these two asked no
better, when their work was done, than to lie buried in
the lush grasses on the side of the canal, and watch the
cumbrous vessels drifting by and bringing the crisp salt
smell of the sea amongst the blossoming scents of the
country summer.
True, in the winter it was harder, and they had to
rise in the darkness and the bitter cold, and they had






A DOG OF FLANDERS. lu

seldom as much as they could have eaten any day, and
the hut was scarce better than a shed when the nights
were cold, ,iri .. ..i. it looked so pretty in warm weather,
buried in a groat kindly-clambering vine, that never bore
fruit, indeed, but which covered it with luxuriant green
tracery all through the months of blossom and harvest.
In winter the winds found many holes in .the walls of
the poor little hut, and the vine was black and leafless,
and.the bare lands looked very bleak and drear without,
and sometimes within the floor was flooded and then
frozen. In winter it was hard, and the snow numbed
the little white limbs of Nello, and the icicles cut the
brave, untiring feet of Patrasche.
But even then they were never heard to lament, either
of them. The child's wooden shoes and the dog's four
legs would trot :u ... iiil, together over the frozen fields
to the chime of the bells on the harness; and then some-
times, in the streets of Antwerp, some housewife would
bring them a bowl of soup and a handful of bread, or
some I ;1ii. trader would throw some billets of fuel into
the little cart as it went homeward, or some woman in
their own village would bid them keep some share of the
milk they carried for their own food; and then they
would run over the white lands, through the early dark-
ness, bright and happy, and burst with a shout of joy
into their home.
So, on the whole, it was well with them, very well;
and Patrasche, meeting on the highway or in the public
streets the many dogs who toiled from daybreak into
nightfall, paid only with blows and curses, and loosened
from the shafts with a kick to starve and freeze as best






LITTLE CLASSICS.


they might, --Patrasche in his heart was very grateful
to his fate, and thought it the fairest and the kindliest
the world could hold. Though he was often very hun-
gry indeed when lie lay down at night; though lie had
to work in the heats of summer noons and the rasping
chills of winter dawns; though his feet were often ten-
der with wounds from the sharp edges of the jagged
pavement; though he had to perform tasks beyond his
strength and against his nature, -yet he was grateful
and content: he did his duty with each day, and the
eyes that he loved smiled down on him. It was suffi-
cient for Patrasche.
There was only one thing which caused Patrasche any
uneasiness in his life, and it was this. Antwerp, as all
the world knows, is full at every turn of old piles of
stones, dark and ancient and majestic, standing in
crooked courts, jammed against gateways and taverns,
rising by the water's edge, with bells ringing above
them in the air, and ever and again out of their arched
doors a swell of music pealing. There they'remain, the
grand old sanctuaries of the past, shut in amidst the
squalor, the hurry, the crowds, the unloveliness and
the commerce of the modern world, and all day long
the clouds drift and the birds circle and the winds sigh
around them, and beneath the earth at their feet there
sleeps RUBENS.
And the greatness of the mighty Master still rests
upon Antwerp, and wherever we turn in its narrow
streets his glory lies therein, so that all mean things are
:i. i., transfigured; and as we pace slowly through the
winding ways, and by the edge of the stagnant water,






A DOG OF FLANDERS.


and through the noisome courts, his spirit abides with
us, and the heroic beauty of his visions is about us, and
the stones that once felt his footsteps and bore his
shadow.seem to arise and speak of him with living
voices. For the city which is the tomb of Rubens still
lives to us -i ...-l. i him, and him alone.
It is so quiet there by that great white sepulchre, -
so quiet, save only when the organ peals and the choir
cries aloud the Salve Regina or the Kyrie Eleison.
Sure no artist ever had a greater gravestone than that
pure marble sanctuary gives to him in the heart of his
birthplace in the chancel of St. Jacques.
Without Rubens, what were Antwerp? A dirty,
dusky, bustling mart, which no man would ever care to
look upon save the traders who do business on its
wharves. With Rubens, to the whole world of men it
is a sacred name, a sacred soil, a Bethlehem where a
god of Art saw light, a Golgotha where a god of Art
lies dead.
0 nations closely should you treasure your great
men, for by them alone will the future know of you.
Flanders in her generations has been wise. In his life
she glorified this greatest of her sons, and in his death
she magnifies his name. But her wisdom is very rare.
Now, the trouble of Patrasche was this. Into these
great, sad piles of stones, that reared their melancholy
majesty above the crowded roofs, the child Nello would
many and many a time enter, and disappear through
their dark, arched portals, whilst Patrasche, left without
upon the pavement, would wearily and vainly ponder on
what could be the charm which thus llured from him






LITTLE CLASSICS.


his inseparable and beloved companion. Once or twice
he did essay to see for himself, clattering up the steps
with his milk-cart behind him ; but thereon he had been
always sent back again summarily by a tall custodian in
black clothes and silver chains of office; and fearful of
bringing his little master into trouble, he desisted, and
remained couched 1p.; i- before the churches until
such time as the boy reappeared. It was not tie fact
of his going into them which disturbed Patrasche: he
knew that people went to church: all the village went
to the small, tumble-down, gray pile opposite the red
windmill. What troubled him was that little Nello al-
ways looked strangely when he came out, always very
flushed or very pale; and whenever he returned home
after such visitations would sit silent and dreaming, not
caring to play, but gazing out at the evening skies be-
yond the line of the canal, very subdued and almost sad.
What was it ? wondered Patrasche. He thought it
could not be good or natural for the little lad to be so
grave, and in his dumb fashion he tried all lie could to
keep Nello by him in the sunny fields or in the busy
market-place. But to the churches Nello would go:
most often of all would he go to the great cathedral;
and Patrasche, left without on the stones by the iron
fragments of Quentin Vi .'s gate, would stretch him-
self and yawn and sigh, and even howl now and then,
all in vain, until the doors closed and the child perforce
came forth again, and winding his arms about the dog's
neck would kiss him on his broad, tawny-colored fore-
head, and murmur always the same words: "If I could
only see them, P,atrasche! if I could only see them! "






A DOG OF FLANDERS. 23

What were they? pondered Patrasche, looking up
with large, wistful, sympathetic eyes.
One day, when the custodian was out of the way and
the doors left ajar, he got in for a moment after his little
friend and saw. "They were two great covered pic-
tures on either side of the choir.
Nello was kneeling, rapt as in an ecstasy, before the
altar-picture of the Assumption, and when lie noticed
Patrasche, and rose and drew the dog gently out into
the air, his face was wet with tears, and he looked up
at the veiled places as he passed them, and murmured
to his companion, "It is so terrible not to see them,
Patrasche, just because one is poor and cannot pay!
He never meant that the poor should not see them when
he painted them, I am sure. lie would have had us see
them any day, every day: that I am sure.- And they
keep them shrouded there, shrouded in the dark,
the beautiful things and they never feel the light,
and no eyes look on them, unless rich people come and
pay. If I could only see them, I would be content to
die."
But he could not see them, and. Patrasche could not
help him, for to gain the silver piece that the church
exacts as the price for looking on the glories of the Ele-
vation of the Cross and the Descent of the Cross was a
thing as utterly beyond the powers of either of tl.. ,, as
it would have been to scale the heights of the cathedral
spire. They had never so much as a sou to spare : if
they cleared enough to get a little wood for the stove, a
little broth for the pot, it was the utmost they could do.
Ani yet the heart of the child was set in sore and end-






Y, LITTLE CLASSICS.

less longing upon'beholding the greatness of the two
veiled Rubens.
The whole soul of the little Ardennois thrilled and
stirred with an absorbing passion for Art. Going on
his ways through the old city in the early days before
the sun or the people had risen, Nello, who looked only
a little peasant-boy, with a great dog drawing milk to
sell from door to door, was in a heaven of dreams where-
of Rubens was the god. Nello, cold and hungry, with
stockingless feet in wooden shoes, and the winter winds
blowing amongst his curls and lifting his poor thin gar-
ments, was in a rapture of meditation, wherein all that
he saw was the beautiful fair face of the Mary of the
Assumption, with the waves of her golden hair lying
upon her shoulders, and the light of an eternal sun
shining down upon her brow. Nello, reared in poverty,
and buffeted by fortune, and untaught in letters, and
unheeded by men, had the compensation or the curse
which is called Genius.
No one knew it. HIe as little as any. No one knew
it. Only indeed Patrasche, who, being with him always,
saw him draw with chalk upon the stones any and every
thing that grew or breathed, heard him on his little bed
of hay murmur all manner of timid, pathetic prayers to
the spirit of the great Master; watched his gaze darken
and his face radiate at the evening glow of sunset or the
rosy rising of the dawn; and felt many and many a time
the tears of a strange nameless pain and joy, mingled
together, fall hotly from the bright young eyes upon his
own wrinkled, yellow forehead.
"I should go to my grave quite content if I thought,





A DOG OF FLANDERS.


Nello, that when thou growest a man thou couldst own
this hut and the little plot of ground, and labor for
11, 11' and be called Baas by thy neighbors," said the
old man Jehan many an hour from his bed. For to
own a bit of soil, and to be called Baas master by
the hamlet round, is to have achieved the highest ideal
of a Flemish peasant; and the old soldier, who had
wandered over all the earth in his youth, and had
brought -, .tii;n: back, deemed in his old age that to
live and die on one spot in contented humility was the
fairest fate he could desire for his darling. But Nello
said nothing.
The same leaven was working in him that in other
times begat Rubens and Jordaens and the Van Eycks,
and all their wondrous tribe, and in times more recent
begat in the green country of the Ardennes, where the
Miuse washes the old walls of Dijon, the great artist
of the Patroclus, whose genius is too near us for us
aright to measure its divinity.
Nello dreamed of other -1.... in the future than of
tilling the little rood of earth, and living under the
wattle roof, and being called Baas by neighbors a little
poorer or a little less poor than himself. The cathedral
spire, where it rose beyond the fields in the ruddy
evening skies or in the dim, gray, misty mornings, said
other things to him than this. But these lie told only
to Patrasclic, whispering, childlike, his fancies in the
dog's ear when they went together at their work through
the fogs of the daybreak, or lay together at their rest
amongst the rrnli;ll. rushes by the water's side.
For such dreams are not easily shaped into speech to
VOL. X. 2





LITTLE CLASSICS.


awake the slow sympathies of human auditors; and they
would only have sorely perplexed and troubled the
poor old man bedridden in his corner, who, for his
part, whenever he had trodden the streets of Antwerp,
had thought the daub of blue and red that they called
a Madonna, on the walls of the wine-shop where he
drank his sou's worth of black beer, quite as good as
any of the famous altar-pieces for which the stranger
folk travelled far and wide into Flanders from every
land on which the good sun shone.
There was only one other beside Patrasche to whom
Nello could talk at all of his daring fantasies. This
other was little Alois, who lived at the old red mill on
the grassy mound, and whose father, the miller, was
the best-to-do husbandman in all the village. Little
Alois was only a pretty baby with soft round, rosy
features, made lovely by those sweet, dark eyes that
the Spanish rule has left in so many a Flemish face,
in testimony of the Alvan dominion, as Spanish art
has left broadsown throughout the country majestic
palaces and stately courts, gilded house-fronts and
sculptured lintels, histories in blazonry and poems
in stone.
Little Alois was often with Nello and Patrasche.
They played in the fields, they ran in the snow, they
gathered the daisies and bilberries, they went up to
the old gray church together, and they often sat to-
gether by the broad wood-fire in the mill-house. Little
Alois, indeed, was the richest child in the hamlet. She
had neither brother nor sister; her blue serge dress had
never a hole in it; at Kermesse she had as many gilded






A DOG OF FLANDERS.


nuts and Agni Dei in sugar as her hands could hold;
and when she went up for her first communion her
flaxen curls were covered with a cap of richest Mechlin
lace, which had been her mother's and her grand-
mother's before it came to her. Men spoke already,
though she had but twelve years, of the good wife
she would be for their sons to woo and win; but she
herself was a little gay, simple child, in no wise con-
scious of her heritage, and she loved no playfellows so
well as Jehan Daas's grandson and his dog.
One day her father, Baas Cogez, a good man, but
somewhat stern, came on a pretty group in the long
meadow behind the mill, where the aftermath had that
day been cut. It was his little daughter sitting amidst
the hay, with the great tawny head of Patrasche on
her lap, and many wreaths of poppies and blue corn-
flowers round them both: on a clean smooth slab of
pine wood the boy Nello drew their likeness with a
stick of charcoal.
The miller stood and looked at the portrait with tears
in his eyes, it was so strangely like, and he loved his
only child closely and well. Then he roughly chid the
little girl for idling there whilst her mother needed her
within, and sent her indoors crying and afraid; then,
turning, he snatched the wood from Nello's hands.
"Dost do much of such folly?" he asked, but there
was a tremble in his voice.
Nello colored and hung his head. "I draw every-
thing I see," he murmured.
The miller was silent; then he stretched his hand out
with a franc in it. It is folly, as I say, and evil waste





LITTLE CLASSICS.


of time; nevertheless, it is like Alois, and will please
the house-mother. Take this silver bit for it and leave
it for me."
The color died' out of the face of the young Arden-
nois: he lifted his head and put his hands behind his
back. Keep your money and the portrait both, Baas
Cogez," he said simply. You have been often good
to me." Then he called Patrasche to him, and walked
away across the fields.
I could have seen them with that franc," he mur.
mured to Patrasche, but I could not sell her picture,
-not even for them."
Baas Cogez went into his mill-house sore troubled in
his mind. That lad must not be so much with Alois,"
he said to his wife that night. Trouble may come of
it hereafter: he is fifteen now, and she is twelve; and
the boy is comely of face and form."
"And he is a good lad and a loyal," said the house-
wife, feasting her eyes on the piece of pine wood where
it was throned above the chimney with a cuckoo clock
in oak and a Calvary in wax.
Yea, I do not gainsay that," said the miller, draining
his pewter flagon.
Then, if what you think of were ever to come to
pass," said the wife, hesitatingly, "would it matter so
much ? She will have enough for both, and one cannot
be better than happy."
"You are a woman, and therefore a fool," said the
miller, harshly, striking his pipe on the table. "The
lad is naught but a beggar, and, with these painter's
fancies, worse than a beggar. Have a care that they






A DOG OF FLANDERS.


are not together in the future, or I will send the child
to the surer keeping of the nuns of the Sacred Heart."
The poor mother was terrified, and promised humbly
to do his will. Not that she could bring herself alto-
gether to separate the child from her favorite playmate,
nor did the miller even desire that extreme of cruelty
to a young lad who was guilty of nothing except pov-
erty. But there were many ways in which little Alois
was kept away from her chosen companion: and Nello,
being a boy proud and quiet and sensitive, was quickly
wounded, and ceased to turn his own steps and those
of Patrasche, as he had been used to do with every
moment of leisure, to the old red mill upon the slope.
What his offence was lie did not know: he supposed he
had in some manner angered Baas Cogez by taking the
portrait of Alois in the meadow; and when the child
who loved him would run to him and nestle her hand
in his, he would smile at her very sadly and say with
a tender concern for her before himself, "Nay, Alois,
do not anger your father. He thinks that 'I make
you idle, dear, and he is not pleased that you should be
with me. He is a good man and loves you well: we
will not anger him, Alois."
But it was with a sad heart that he said it, and the
earth did not look so bright to him as it had used to do
when he went out at sunrise under the poplars down the
straight roads with Patrasche. The old red mill had
been a landmark to him, and he had been used to pause
by it, going and coming, for a cheery greeting with its
people as her little flaxen head rose above the low mill-
wicket, and her little rosy hands had held out a bone or






LITTLE CLASSICS.


a crust to Patrasebe. Now the dog looked ,- I if.,li at
a closed door, and the boy went on without pausing,
with a pang at his heart, and the child sat within with
tears dropping slowly on the knitting to which she was
set on her little stool by the stove; and Baas Cogez,
working among his sacks and his mill-gear, would harden
his will and say to himself, "It is best so. The lad is
all but a beggar, and full of idle, dreaming fooleries.
Who knows what mischief might not come of it in the
future ? So he was wise in his generation, and would
not have the door unbarred, except upon rare and formal
occasions, which seemed to have neither warmth nor mirth
in them to the two children, who had been accustomed
so long to a daily gleeful, careless, happy interchange of
greeting, speech, and pastime, with no other watcher of
their sports or auditor of their fancies than Patrasche,
sagely shaking the brazen bells of his collar and respond-
ing with all a dog's swift sympathies to their every
change of mood.
All this while the little panel of pine wood remained
over the chimney in the mill-kitchen with the cuckoo
clock and the waxen Calvary ; and sometimes it seemed
to Nello a little hard that whilst his gift was accepted lie
himself should be denied.
But lie did not complain: it was his habit to be quiet:
old Jehan Daas had said ever to him, We are poor: we
must take what God sends,- the ill with the good : the
poor cannot choose."
To which the boy had always listened in silence, being
reverent of his old grandfather; but nevertheless a cer-
tain vague, sweet hope, such as beguiles the children of






A DOG OF FLANDERS.


genius, had whispered in his heart, "Yet the poor do
choose sometimes,- choose to be great, so that men
cannot say them nay." And he thought so still in his
innocence; and one day, when the little Alois, finding
him by chance alone amongst the cornfields by the canal,
ran to him and held him close, and sobbed piteously
because the morrow would be her saint's day, and for the
first time in all her life her parents had failed to bid him
to the little supper and romp in the great barns with
which her feast-day was always celebrated, Nello had
kissed her and murmured to her in firm faith, It shall
be different one day, Alois. One day that little bit of
pine wood that your father has of mine shall be worth
its weight in silver; and he will not shut the door
against me then. Only love me always, dear little Alois,
only love me always, and I will be great."
And if I do not love you ? the pretty child asked,
a...i, n. a little through her tears, and moved by the
instinctive coquetries of her sex.
Nello's eves left her face and wandered to the distance,
where in the red and gold of the Flemish night the
cathedral spire rose. There was a smile on his face so
sweet and yet so sad that little Alois was awed by it.
"I will be great still," he said under his breath,-
"great still, or die, Alois."
You do not love me," said the little spoilt child, push-
ing him away; but the boy shook his head and smiled,
and went on his way through the tall yellow corn, seeing
as in a vision some day in a fair future when he should
come into that old familiar land and ask Alois of her
people, and be not refused or denied, but received in






32 LITTLE CLASSICS.

honor, whilst the village folk should throng to look upon
him and say in one another's cars, "Dost see him ? He
is a king among men, for lie is a great artist and the
world speaks his name; and yet he was only our poor
little Nello, who.was a beggar, as one may say, and only
got his bread by the help of his dog." And he thought
how he would fold his grandsire in furs and purples, and
portray him as tie old man is portrayed in the Family
in the chapel of St. Jacques; and of how he would hang
the throat of Patrasche with a collar of gold, and place
him on his right hand, and say to the people, This was
once my only friend ; and of how he would build him-
self a great white marble palace, and make to himself
luxuriant gardens of pleasure, on the slope looking out-
ward to where the cathedral spire rose, and not dwell in
it himself, but summon to it, as to a home, all men young
and poor and friendless, but of the will to do mighty
things; and of how lie would say to them always, if
they sought to bless his name, Nay, do not thank me,
- thank Rubens. Without him, what should I have
been ? And these dreams, beautiful, impossible, inno-
cent, free of all selfishness, full of heroical worship, were
so closely about him as he went that lie was happy,-
happy even on this sad anniversary of Alois's saint's.day,
when he and Patrasche went home by themselves to the
little dark hut and the meal of black bread, whilst in
the mill-house all the children of the ii,... sang and
laughed, and ate the big round cakes of Dijon and the
almond gingerbread of Brabant, and danced in the great
barn to the light of the stars and the music of flute and
fiddle.






A DOG OF FLANDERS.


"Never mind, Patrasche," he said, with his arms
round the dog's neck as they both sat in the door of the
hut, where the sounds of the mirth at the mill came
down to them on the night-air,- "never mind. It shall
all be changed by and by."
He believed in the future: Patrasehe, of more expe.
rience and of more philosophy, thought that the loss of
the mill-supper in the present was ill compensated by
dreams of milk and honey in some vague hereafter. And
Patrasche growled whenever he passed by Baas Cogez.
"This is Alois's name-day, is it not?" said the old
man Daas that night from the corner where he was
stretched upon his bed of sacking.
The boy gave a gesture of assent: he wished that the
old man's memory had erred a little, instead of keeping
such sure account.
"And why not there?" his .. ....il,,,i,, pursued.
"Thou hast never missed a year before, Nello."
"Thou art too sick to leave," murmured the lad,
bending his handsome young head over the bed.
"Tut! tut! Mother Nulette would have come and
sat with me, as she does scores of times. \\I, .1 is the
cause, Nello ? the old man persisted. "Thou surely
hast not had ill words with the little one ? "
"Nay, grandfather, -never," said the boy, quickly,
with a hot color in his bent face. Simply and truly,
Baas Cogez did not have me asked this year. He has
taken some whim against me."
"But thou hast done nothing wrong ? "
"That I know-nothing. I took the portrait of
Alois on a piece of pine: that is all."
2* a


<.4







LITTLE CLASSICS.


"Al!" The old man was silent: the truth sug-
gested itself to him with the boy's innocent answer.
He was tied to a bed of dried leaves in the corner of a
wattle hut, but he had not wholly forgotten what the
ways of the world were like.
He drew Nello's fair head fondly to his breast with a
tenderer gesture. Thou art very poor, my child," lie
said with a quiver the more in his aged, trembling voice,
- so poor! It is very hard for thee."
"Nay, I am rich," murmured Nello ; and in his inno-
cence he : I.. .. i so,- rich with the imperishable powers
that are mightier than the might of kings. And lie
went and stood by the door of the hut in the quiet
autumn night, and watched the stars troop by and the
tall poplars bend and shiver in the wind. All the case-
ments of the mill-house were lighted, and every now and ,
then the notes of the flute came to him. The tears fell
down his checks, for he was but a child, yet he smiled,
for he said to himself, In the future He stayed
there until all was quite still and dark, then he and
Patrasche went within and slept together, long and
deeply, side by side.
Now he had a secret which only Patrasche knew.
There was a little outhouse to the hut, which no one
entered but himself,- a dreary place, but with abundant
clear light from the north. Here he had fashioned him-
self rudely an easel in rough lumber, and here on a
great gray sea of stretched paper he had given shape to
one of the innumerable fancies which possessed his brain.
No one had ever taught him i... i,: .. colors he had no
means to buy; he had gone without bread many a time


*
*~B






A DOG OF FLANDERS. j5

to procure even the few rude vehicles that he had here;
and it was only in black or white that he could fashion
the -il..... he saw. This great figure which he had
drawn here in chalk was only an old man sitting on
a fallen tree, -only that. He had seen old Michel the
woodman sitting so at evening many a time. He had
never had a soul to tell him of outline or perspective, of
anatomy or of shadow, and yet lie had given all the
weary, worn-out age, all the sad, quiet patience, all the
rugged, careworn pathos of his original, and given them
so that the old lonely figure was a poem, sitting there,
meditative and alone, on the dead tree, with the darkness
of the descending night behind him.
It was rude, of course, in a way, and had many
faults, no doubt; and yet it was real, true in Nature,
true in Art, and very mournful, and in a manner beau-
tiful.
Patrasche had lain quiet countless hours watching its
gradual creation after the labor of each day was done,
and he knew that Nello had a hope- vain and wild
perhaps, but strongly cherished-of sending this great
drawing to compete for a prize of two hundred francs a
year which it was announced in Antwerp would be open
to every lad of talent, scholar or peasant, under eighteen,
who would attempt to win it with some unaided work of
chalk or pencil. Three of the foremost artists in the
town of Rubens were to be the judges and elect the vic-
tor according to his merits.
All the spring and summer and autumn Nello had
been at work upon this treasure, which, if triumphant,
would build him his first step toward independence and






LITTLE CLASSICS.


the mysteries of the art which he blindly, -"- ....w' Il,, and
yet passionately adored.
He said iotlhing to any one: his grandfather would
not have understood, and little Alois was lost to him.
Only to Patrasche lie told all, and whispered, "Rubens
would give it me, I think, if he knew."
Patrascle thought so too, for he knew that Rubens
had loved dogs or he had never painted them with such
exquisite fidelity; and men who loved dogs were, as
Patrascle knew, always pitiful.
The drawings were to go in on the first day of Decem-
ber, and the decision be given on the twenty-fourth, so
that he who should win might rejoice with all his people
at the Christmas season.
In the twilight of a bitter wintry day, and with a
beating heart, now quick with hope, now faint with fear,
Nello placed the great picture on his little green milk-
cart, and took it, with tile help of Patrasche, into the
town, and there left it, as enjoined, at the doors of a
public building.
"Perhaps it is worth nothing at all. -IHow can I
tell ?" he thought, with the heart-sickness of a great
timidity. Now that lie had left it there, it seemed to
him so hazardous, so vain, so foolish, to dream that he, a
little lad with bare feet, who barely knew his letters,
could do anything at which great painters, real artists,
could ever deign to look. Yet lie took heart as he went
by the cathedral: the lordly form of Rubens seemed to
rise from tie fog and the darkness, and to loom in its
magnificence before him, whilst the lips with their kindly
smile seemed to him to murmur, "Nay, have courage !






A DOG OF FLANDERS.


It was not by a weak heart and by faint fears that I
wrote my name for all time upon Antwerp."
Nello ran home through the, cold night, comforted.
He had done his best: the rest mast be as God willed,
lie thought, in that innocent, unquestioning faith which
had been taught him in the little gray chapel amongst
the willows and the poplar-trees.
The winter was very sharp already. That night, after
they had reached the hut, snow fell; and fell for very
many days after that, so that the paths and the divisions
in the fields were all obliterated, and all the smaller
streams were frozen over, and the cold was intense upon
the plains. Then, indeed, it became hard work to go
round for the milk while the world was all dark, and
carry it through the darkness to the silent town. Hard
work, especially for Patrasche, for the passage of the
years, that were only bringing Nello a stronger youth,
were bringing him old age, and his joints were stiff and
his bones ached often. But he would never give up his
share of the labor. Nello would fain have spared him
and drawn the cart himself, but Patrasche would not
allow it. All lie would ever permit or accept was the
help of a thrust from behind to the truck as it lumbered
along -1......., the ice-ruts. Patrasche had lived in har-
ness, and he was proud of it. He suffered a great deal
sometimes from frost, and the terrible roads, and the
rheumatic pains of his limbs, but he only drew his breath
hard and bent his stout neck, and trod onward with
steady patience.
"Rest thee at home, Patrasche, -it is time thou
didst rest,- and I can quite, well push in the cart by






00 LITTLE CLASSICS.

myself," urged Nello many a morning; but Patrasche,
who understood him aright, would no more have con-
sented to stay at home than a veteran soldier to shirk
when the charge was sounding; and every day he would
rise and place himself in his shafts, and plod along over
the snow through the fields that his four round feet had
left their print upon so many, many years.
"One must never rest till one dies," thought Pa-
trasche ; and sometimes it seemed to him that that time
of rest for him was not very far off. His sight was less
clear than it had been, and it gave him pain to rise after
the night's sleep, though he would never lie a moment
in his straw when once the bell of the chapel tolling five
let him know that the daybreak of labor had begun.
"My poor Patrasche, we shall soon lie quiet together,
you and I," said old Jehan Daas, stretching out to stroke
the head of Patrasche with the old withered hand which
had always shared with him its one poor crust of bread;
and the hearts of the old man and the old dog ached
i...- i1,. with one thought: When they were gone who
would care for their darling ?
One afternoon, as they came back from Antwerp over
the snow, which had become hard and smooth as marble
over all the Flemish plains, they found dropped in the
road a pretty little puppet, a tambourine-player, all scar-
let and gold, about six inches high, and, unlike greater
personages when Fortune lets them drop, quite un-
spoiled and unhurt by its fall. It was a pretty toy.
Nello tried to find its owner, and, failing, thought that it
was just the thing to please Alois.
It was quite night when he passed the mill-house: he







A DOG OF FLANDERS.


knew the little window of her room. It could be no
harm, he thought, if lie gave her his little piece of treas-
ure-trove, they had been .1, .11i. so long. There
was a shed with a sloping roof beneath her casement : he
climbed it and tapped softly at the lattice : there was a
little light within. The child opened it and looked out,
half frightened.
Nello put the tambourine-player into her hands.
"Here is a doll I found in the snow, Alois. Take it,"
he whispered, take it, and God bless thee, dear! "
He slid down from the shed-roof before she had time
to thank him, and ran off through the darkness.
That night there was a fire at the mill. Out-buildings
and much corn were destroyed, although the mill itself
and the dwelling-house were unharmed. All the village
was out in terror, and engines came tearing through the
snow from Antwerp. The miller was insured, and would
lose nothing: nevertheless, lie was in furious wrath, and
declared aloud that the fire was due to no accident, but
to some foul intent.
Nello, awakened from his sleep, ran to help with the
rest: Baas Cogez thrust him angrily aside. "Thou wert
loitering here after dark," he said roughly. "I believe,
on my soul, that thou dost know more of the fire than
any one."
Nello heard him in silence, stupefied, not supposing
that any one could say such things except in jest, and
not comprehending how any one could pass a jest at
such a time.
Nevertheless, the miller said the brutal thing openly
to many of his neighbors in the day that followed; and






4U LITTLE CLASSICS.

though no serious charge was ever preferred against the
lad, it got bruited about that Nello had been seen in the
mill-yard after dark on some unspoken errand, and that
he bore Baas Cogez a grudge for forbidding his inter-
course with little Alois; and so the hamlet, which fol-
lowed the sayings of its richest landowner servilely, and
whose families all hoped to secure the riches of Alois in
some future time for their sons, took the hint to give
grave looks and cold words to old Jehan Daas's grand-
son. No one said anything to him openly, but all the
village agreed -.._.. i. to humor the miller's prejudice,
and at the cottages and farms where Nello and Patrasche
called every morning for the milk for Antwerp, downcast
glances and brief phrases replaced to them the broad
smiles and cheerful greetings to which they had been
always used. No one really credited the miller's absurd
suspicions, nor thl outrageous accusations born of them,
but the people were all very poor and very ignorant, and
the one rich man of the place had pronounced against
him. Nello, in his innocence and his friendlessness, had
no strength to stem the popular tide.
"Thou art very cruel to the lad," the miller's wife
dared to say, weeping, to her lord. "Sure he is an
innocent lad and a faithful, and would never dream of
any such wickedness, however sore his heart might be."
But Baas Cogez being an obstinate man, having once
said a-l ".. held to it 1... 11 I ..,,._ I in his innermost
soul he knew well the injustice that he was committing.
Meanwhile, Nello endured the injury done against him
with a certain proud patience that disdained to complain;
he only gave way a little when he was quite alone with






A DOG OF FLANDERS. 41

old Patrasche. Besides, lie thought, If it should win!
They will be sorry then, perhaps."
Still, to a boy not quite sixteen, and who had dwelt in
one little world all his short life, and in his childhood
had been caressed and applauded on all sides, it was a
hard trial to have the whole of that little world turn
against him for naught. Especially hard in that bleak,
snow-bound, famine-stricken winter-time, when the only
light and warmth there could be found abode beside the
village hearths and in the kindly greetings of neighbors.
In the winter-time all drew nearer to each other, all to
all, except to Nello and Patrasche, with whom none now
would have anything to do, and who were left to fare as
they might with the old paralyzed, bedridden man in the
little cabin, whose fire was often low, and whose board
was often without bread, for there was a buyer from
Antwerp who had taken to drive his mule in of a day for
the milk of the various dairies, and there were only three
or four of the people who had refused his terms of pur-
chase and remained faithful to the little green cart. So
that the burden which Patrasche drew had become very
light, and the centime-pieces in Nello's pouch had be-
come, alas! very small likewise.
The dog would stop, as usual, at all the familiar gates
which were now closed to him, and look up at them with
wistful, mute appeal; and it cost the neighbors a pang
to shut their doors and their hearts, and let Patrasche
draw his cart on again, empty. Nevertheless, they did
it, for they desired to please Baas Cogez.
Noel was close at hand.
The weather was very wild and cold. The snow was






LITTLE CLASSICS.


six feet deep, and the ice was firm enough to bear oxen
and men upon it everywhere. At this season the little
village was always gay and cheerful. At the poorest
dwelling there were possets and cakes, joking and dan-
cing, sugared saints and gilded Jesus. The merry Flem-
ish bells jingled everywhere on the horses; everywhere
within doors some well-filled soup-pot sang and smoked
over the stove; and everywhere over the snow without
laughing maidens pattered in bright kerchiefs and stout
kirtles, going to and from the mass. Only in the little
hut it was very dark and very cold.
Nello and Patrasche were left utterly alone, for one
night in the week before the Christmas Day, death en-
tered there, and took away from life forever old Jehan
Daas, who had never known of life aught save its poverty
and its pains. He had long been half dead, incapable of
any movement except a feeble gesture, and powerless for
anything beyond a gentle word; and yet his loss fell
on them both with a great horror in it; they mourned
him passionately. He had passed away from them in
his sleep, and when in the gray dawn they learned their
bereavement, unutterable solitude and desolation seemed
to close around them. He had long been only a poor,
feeble, paralyzed old man, who could not raise a hand in
their defence, but lie had loved them well; his smile had
always welcomed their return. They mourned for him
unceasingly, refusing to be comforted, as in the white
winter 1., il ... followed the deal shell that held his body
to the nameless grave by the little gray church. They
were his only mourners, these two whom he had left
friendless upon earth, the young boy and the old dog.






A DOG OF FLANDERS.


Surely, he will relent now and let the poor lad come
hither ? thought the miller's wife, glancing at her hus-
band where lie smoked by the hearlh.
"Baas Cogez knew her thought, but he hardened his
heart, and would not unbar his door as the little, humble
funeral went by. "The boy is a beggar," he said to
himself: "he shall not be about Alois."
The woman dared not say anything aloud, but when
the grave was closed and the mourners had gone, she
put a wreath of immortelles into Alois's hands and bade
her go and lay it reverently on the dark, unmarked
mound where the snow was displaced.
Nello and Patrasche went home with broken hearts.
But even of that poor, melancholy, cheerless home they
were denied the consolation. There was a month's rent
over-due for their little home, and when Nello had paid
the last sad service to the dead he had not a coin left.
He went and begged grace of the owner of the hut, a
cobbler who went every Sunday night to drink his pint
of wine and smoke.with Baas Cogez. The cobbler would
grant no mercy. He was a harsh, miserly man, and loved
money. He claimed in default of his rent every stick
and stone, every pot and pan, in the hut, and bade
Nello and Patrasche be out of it on the morrow.
Now, the cabin was lowly enough, and in some sense
miserable enough, and yet their hearts clove to it with a
great affection. They had been so happy there, and in
the summer, with its clambering vine and its flowering
beans, it was so pretty and bright in the midst of the
sun-lighted fields! Their life in it had been full of labor
and privation, and yet they had been so well content, so






LITTLE CLASSICS.


gay of heart, running together to meet the old man s
never-failing smile of welcome!
All night long the boy and the dog sat by the fireless
hearth in the darkness, drawn close :'... i,. for warmth
and sorrow. Their bodies were insensible to the cold,
but their hearts seemed frozen in them.
When the morning broke over the white, chill earth it
was the morning of Christmas Eve. With a shudder,
Nello clasped close to him his only friend, while his tears
fell hot and fast on the dog's frank forehead. "Let us
go, Patrasche, dear, dear Patrasche," he murmured.
"We will not wait to be kicked out: let us go."
Patrasche had no will but his, and they went sadly,
side by side, out from the little place which was so dear
to them both, and in which every humble, homely thing
was to them precious and beloved. Patrasche drooped
his head wearily as he passed by his own green cart; it
was no longer his, it had to go with the rest to pay the
rent, and his brass harness lay idle and glittering on the
snow. The dog could have lain down beside it and died
for very heart-sickness as he went, but whilst the lad
lived and needed him Patrasche would not yield and give
way.
They took the old accustomed road into Antwerp.
The day had yet scarce more than dawned, most of the
shutters were still closed, but some of the 1 11i ,. i, were
about. They took no notice whilst the log and the boy
passed by them. At one door Nello paused and looked
wistfully within: his grandfather had done many a
kindly turn in neighbor's service to the people who
dwelt there.






A DOG OF FLANDERS.


"Would you give Patrasche a crust ?" he said tim-
idly. "iHe is old, and he has had nothing since last
forenoon."
The woman shut the door hastily, murmuring some
vague saying about wheat and rye being very dear that
season. The boy and the dog went on again wearily:
they asked no more.
By slow and painful ways they reached Antwerp as
the chimes tolled ten.
"If I had anything about me I could sell to get him
bread! ....i. Nello, but lie had ir..,;, except the
wisp of linen and serge that covered him, and his pair
of wooden shoes.
Patrasche understood, and nestled his nose into the
lad's hand, as though to pray him not to be disquieted
for any woe or want of his.
The winner of the drawing-prize was to be proclaimed
at noon, and to the public building where he had left
his treasure Nello made his way. On the steps and in
the entrance-hall was a crowd of youths,- some of his
age, some older, all with parents or relatives or friends.
His heart was sick with fear as lie went amongst them,
holding Patrasche close to him. The great bells of the
city clashed out the hour of noon with brazen clamor.
The doors of the inner hall were opened; the eager,
panting throng rushed in; it was known that the selected
picture would be raised above the rest upon a wooden
dais.
A mist obscured Nello's sight, his head swam, his
limbs almost failed him. When his vision cleared he
saw.the drawing raised on high: it was not his own!






LITTLE CLASSICS.


A slow, sonorous voice was proclaiming aloud that vic-
tory had been adjudged to Stephan Kiesslinger, born in
the burgh of Antwerp, son of a wharfinger in that towh.
When Nello recovered his consciousness he was lying
on the stones without, and Patrasche was trying wilh
every art he knew to call him back to life. In the dis-
tance a throng of the youths of Antwerp were shouting
around their successful comrade, and escorting him with
acclamations to his home upon the quay.
The boy staggered to his feet and drew the dog into
his embrace. It is all over, dear Patrasche," lie mur-
mured, "all over! "
He rallied himself as best he could, for he was weak
from fasting; and retraced his steps to the village. Pa-
trasche paced by his side with his head drooping and his
old limbs feeble from hunger and sorrow.
The snow was falling fast: a keen hurricane blew
from the north: it was bitter as death on the plains.
It took them long to traverse the familiar path, and the
bells were sounding four of the clock as they approached
the hamlet. Suddenly Patrasche paused, arrested by a
scent in the snow, scratched, whined, and drew out with
his teeth a small case of brown leather. He held it up
to Nello in the darkness. Where -,. were there stood
a little Calvary, and a lamp burned dully under the
cross : the 7 I .. i ...i.- -11 i... .. .1 the case to the light:
on it was the name of Baas Cogez, and within it were
notes for two thousand francs.
The sight roused the lad a little from his stupor. He
thrust it in his shirt, and stroked Patrasche and drew
him onward. The dog looked up wistfully in his face.






A DOG OF FLANDERS.


Nello made straight for the mill-house, and went to
the house-door and struck on its panels. The miller's
wife opened it weeping, with little Alois clinging close
to her skirts. "Is it thee, thou poor lad?" she said
kindly through her tears. Gat thee gone cre the Baas
see thee. We are in sore trouble to-night. He is out
seeking for a power of money that lie has let fall riding
homeward, and in this snow he never will find it; and
God knows it will go nigh to ruin us. It is Heaven's
own judgment for the things we have done to thee."
Nello put the note-case in her hand and called Pa-
trasche within the house. "Patrasche found the money
to-night," he said quickly. Tell Baas Cogez so; I
think lie will not deny the dog shelter and food in his
old age. Keep him from pursuing me, and I pray of
you to be good to him."
Ere either woman or dog knew what he meant he had
stooped and kissed Patrasche: then closed the door hur-
riedly, and disappeared in the gloom of the !i -lI t 1!
night.
The woman and the child stood speechless with joy
and fear: Patrasche vainly spent the fury of his anguish
against the iron-bound oak of the barred house-door.
They did not dare unbar the door and let him forth:
they tried all they could to solace him. They brought
him sweet cakes and juicy meats; they tempted him
with the best they had; they tried to lure him to abide
by the warmth of the hearth; but it was of no avail.
Patrasche refused to be comforted or to stir from the
barred portal.
It was six o'clock when from an opposite entrance






48 LITTLE CLASSICS.

the miller at last came, jaded and broken, into his wife's
presence. It is lost forever," he said with an ashen
check and a quiver in his stern voice. We have looked
with lanterns everywhere: it is gone,- the little maid-
en's portion and all! "
His wife put the money into his hand, and told him
how it had come to her. The strong man sank trembling
into a seat and covered his face, ashamed and almost
afraid. "I have been cruel to the lad," lie muttered at
length: "I deserved not to have good at his hands."
Little Alois, taking courage, crept close to her father
and nestled against him her fair curly head. Nello
may come here again, father ? she whispered. Ie
may come to-morrow as lie used to do ?"
The miller pressed her in his arms: his hard, sun-
burned face was very pale, and his mouth trembled.
" Surely, surely," lie answered his child. He shall
bide here on Christmas Day, and any other day he will.
God helping me, I will make amends to the boy, I will
make amends."
Little Alois kissed him in gratitude and joy, then slid
from his 1 ,*. and ran to where the dog kept watch by
the door. "And to-night I may feast Patrasche ? she
cried in a child's i-... 1.i1. glee.
Her father bent his head gravely: "Ay, ay! let the
dog have tile best "; for the stern old man was moved
and shaken to Ins heart's depths.
It was Christmas Eve, and the mill-house was filled
with oak logs and squares of turf, with cream and honey,
with meat and bread, and the rafters were hung with
wreaths of evergreen, and the Calvary and the cuckoo






A DOG OF FLANDERS.


clock looked out from a mass of holly. There were little
paper lanterns too for Alois, and toys of various fashions
and sweetmeats in bright-pictured papers. There were
light and warmth and abundance everywhere, and the
child would fain have made the dog a guest honored and
feasted.
But Patrasche would neither lie in the warmth nor
share in the cheer. Famished he was and very cold, but
without Nello he would partake neither of comfort nor
food. Against all temptation he was proof, and close
against the door he leaned always, watching only for a
means of escape.
He wants the lad," said Baas Cogez. "Good dog!
good dog! I will go over to the lad the first thing at
day-dawn." For no one but Patrasche knew that Nello
had left the hut, and no one but Patrasche divined that
Nello had gone to face starvation and misery alone.
The mill-kitchen was very warm; great logs crackled
and flamed on the hearth; neighbors came in for a glass
of wine and a slice of the fat goose baking for supper.
Alois, gleeful and sure of lier playmate back on the mor-
row, bounded and sang and tossed back her yellow hair.
Baas Cogez, in the fulness of his heart, smiled on her
through moistened eyes, and spoke of the way in which
he would befriend her favorite companion; the house-
mother sat with calm, contented face at the spinning-
wheel; the cuckoo in the clock chirped mirthful hours.
Amidst it all Patrasche was bidden with a thousand
words of welcome to tarry there a cherished guest. But
neither peace nor plenty could allure him where Nello
was not.
VOL. X. 3 D


_






LITTLE CLASSICS.


When the supper smoked on the board, ant the voices
were loudest, and gladdest, and the Christ-child brought
choicest gifts to Alois, Patrasehe, watching always an
occasion, glided out when the door was unlatched by a
careless new-comer, and as ;il as Ins weak and tired
limbs would bear him sped over the snow in the bitter,
black night. He had only one thought, -to follow Nello.
A human friend might have paused for the pleasant meal,
the cheery warmth, the cosey.slumber; but that was not
the friendship of Patrasche. He remembered a bygone
time, when an old man and a little child had found him
sick unto death in the wayside ditch.
Snow had fallen freshly all the evening long; it was
now nearly ten; the trail of the boy's footsteps was
almost obliterated. It took Patrasche long to discover
any scent. When at last he found it, it was lost again
quickly, and lost and recovered, and again lost and again
recovered, a hundred times or more.
The night was very wild. The lamps under the way-
side crosses were blown out; the roads were sheets of
ice; thilimpenetrable darkness hid every trace of habi-
tations; there was no living thing abroad. All the cattle
were housed, and in all the huts and homesteads men
and women rejoiced and feasted. There was only Pa-
trasche out in the cruel cold,--old and famished and
full of pain, but with the strength and the patience of a
great love to sustain him in his search.
The trail of Nello's steps, faint and obscure as it was
under the new snow, went -. i".i' along the accus-
tomed tracks into Antwerp. It was past midnight when
Patrasche traced it over the boundaries of the town and






A DOG OF FLANDERS. 51

into the narrow, tortuous, gloomy streets. It was all
quite dark in the town, save where some light gleamed
ruddily through the crevices of house-shutters, or some
group went homeward with lanterns chanting drinking-
songs. The streets were all white with ice: the high
walls and roofs loomed black against them. There was
scarce a sound save the riot of the winds down the pas-
sages as they tossed the creaking signs and shook the
tall lamp-irons.
So many passers-by had trodden through and -lr... -l
the snow, so many diverse paths had crossed aid re-
crossed each other, that the dog had a hard task to
retain any hold on the track he followed. But he kept
on his way, though the cold pierced him to the bone,
and the jagged ice cut his feet, and the hunger in his
body gnawed like a rat's teeth. He kept on his way,
a poor gaunt, shivering -i..n-. and by long patience
traced the steps lie loved into the very heart of the
burgh aud up to the steps of the great cathedral.
"lie is gone to tile things that lie loved," thought
Patrasche: he could not understand, but lie was full of
sorrow and of pity for the art-passion that to him was
so incomprehensible and yet so sacred.
The portals of lthe cathedral were unclosed after the
midnight mass. Some heedlessness in the custodians,
too eager to go home and feast or sleep, or too drowsy
to know whether they turned the keys aright, had left
one of the doors unlocked. By that accident the foot-
falls Patrasche sought had passed -...... .i into the build-
ing, leaving the white marks of snow upon the dark
stone floor. By that slender white thread, frozen as it






LITTLE CLASSICS.


fell, he was guided through the intense silence, through
the immensity of .the vaulted space, guided straight
to the gates of the chancel, and, stretched there upon
the stones, hl found Nello. lHe crept up and touched
the face of the boy. "Didst thou dream that I should
be faithless and forsake thee ? 1- a dog?" said that
tmute caress.
The lad raised himself with a low cry and clasped him
close. "Let us lie down and die together," he mur-
mured. "Menl have no need of us, and we are all
alone,"
In answer, Patrasche crept closer yet, and laid his
head upon tile young boy's breast. The great tears
stood in his brown, sad eyes: not for himself, -for him-
self lie was happy.
They lay close together in the piercing cold. The
blasts that blew over the Flimish dikes from the north-
ern seas were like waves of ice, which froze every living
thing they touched. The interior of the immense vault
of stone in which t. were was even more bitterly chill
than the snow-covered plains without. Now and then
a bat moved in the shadows, now and then a gleam
of light came on the ranks of carven figures. Under the
Rubens -i. lay together quite still, anld soothed almost
into a dreaming slumber by the numbing narcotic of the
cold. Together they dreamed of the old glad days when
they had chased each other through the flowering grasses
of the summer meadows, or sat hidden in the tall bul-
rushes by the water's side, watching the boats go sea-
ward in the sun.
Suddenly through the darkness a great white radiance






A DOG OF FLANDERS.


streamed through the vastnh ss of the aisles; the moon,
that was at her height, had broken through the clouds,
the snow had ceased to fall, the light reflected from the
snow without was clear as the light of dawn. It fell
through the arches full upon the two pictures above,
from which the boy on his entrance had flung back the
veil: the Elevation and the Dmsccnt of the Cross were
for one instant visible.
Nallo rose to his feet and stretched his arms to them:
the tears of a passionate ecstasy glistened on the paleness
of his twice. I have seen them at last! he cried aloud.
"O God, it is enough "
His limbs failed under him, and lie sank upon his
knees, still gazing upward at the majesty that lie adored.
For a few brief moments the light :i ..... ... the divine
visions that had been denied to him so long, --light clear
and sweet and strong as though it streamed from the
throne of HIeaven. Then suddenly it passed away : once
more a great darkness covered the face of Christ.
The arms of the boy drw close again lie body of the
dog. "We shall s e IIts face here," lie mu umured;
"and He will not ip:rt us, I think."
On the morrow, by the chancel of the cathedral, the
people of Antwerp found them both. They were both
dead: the cold of the night had frozen into stillness alike
the young life and the old. When the Christmas morn-
ing broke and the priests came to the temple, they saw
them lying thus on tle stones together. Above, the
veils were drawn back from the great visions of Rubens,
and the fresh rays of the sunrise touched the thorn-
crowned head of the Christ.






54 LITTLE CLASSICS.

As the day grew on there came an old, hard-featured
man who wept as women weep. "I was cruel to the
lad," he muttered, and now I would have made amends
-yea, to the half of my substance and he should have
been to me as a son."
There came also, as the day grew apace, a painter who
had fame in the world, and who was liberal of hand and
of spirit. I seek one who should have had the prize
yesterday had worth won," he said to the people, "a
boy of rare promise and genius. An old wood-cutter
on a fallen tree at eventide, that was all his theme.
But there was greatness for the future in it. I would
fain find him, and take him with me and teach him Art."
And a little child with curling fair hair, sobbing bit-
terly as she clung to her father's arm, cried aloud, "0
Nello, come We have all ready for thee. The Christ-
child's hands are full of gifts, and the old piper will play
for us; and the mother says thou shalt stay by the
hearth and burn nuts with us all the Noel week long, -
yes, even to the Feast of the Kings! And Patrasche
will be so happy! 0 Nello, wake and come!"
But the young pale face, turned upward to the light
of the great Rubens with a smile upon its mouth, an-
swered them all, "It is too late."
For the sweet, sonorous bells went ringing tl..._i-
the frost, and the sunlight shone upon the plains of
snow, and the populace trooped gay and glad through
the streets, but Nello and Patrasche no more asked
charity at their hands. All they needed now Antwerp
gave unbidden.
Death had been more pitiful to them than longer life







A DOG OF FLANDE1S. 55

would have been. It had taken the one in tie loyalty
of love, and the other in the innocence of faith, from a
world which for love has no recompense and for faith
no fulfilhent.
All their lives they had been together, and in their
deaths they were not divided; for when they were found
the arms of the boy were folded too closely around the
dog to be severed without violence, and the people of
their little -1ii- ,. contrite and ashamed, implored a
special grace for them, and, making them one grave,
laid them to rest there side by side-forever!














THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER.

BY JOHN RUSKIN.

I.
y N a secluded and mountainous part of Styria,
there was, in old time, a valley of the most
surprising and luxuriant fertility. It was sur-
rounded, on all sides, by steep and rocky mountains,
rising into peaks, which were always covered with snow,
and from which a number of torrents descended in con-
stant cataracts. One of these fell Awestward, over the
face of a crag so high that, when the sun bad set to
i i1I.' else, and all below was darkness, his beams
still shone full upon this waterfall, so that it looked like
a shower of gold. It was, therefore, called by the people
of the neighborhood the Golden River. It was strange
that none of these streams fell into the .1.i itself.
They all descended on the other side of the mountains,
and wound away through broad plains and by populous
cities. But the clouds were drawn so constantly to the
snowy hills, and rested so ..ii in the circular hollow,
that, in time of drought and heat, when all the country
round was burnt up, there was still rain in the little val-
ley; and its crops were so heavy, and its hay so high,






THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 57

and its apples so red, and its grapes so blue, and its wine
so rich, and its honey so sweet, that it was a marvel to
every one who beheld it, and was commonly called the
Treasure Valley.
The whIol of this little il. belonged to tlhre
brothers, called Schwartz, Hans, and Gluck. Schwartz
and IIans, the two elder brothers, were very ugly men,
with overhluging eyebrows and small, dull eyes, which
were always half shut, so that you could n't s e into
them, and always fancied they saw very far into you.
They lived by farming the Treasure Vil. and very
good farmnirs they were. They killed everything that did
not pay for its eating. They shot the blackbirds, be-
cause they pecked thcofruit; and killed the hedgehogs,
lest they should suck the cows; they poisoned the crick-
ets for eating the crumbs in the kitchen; and smothered
the cicadas, which used to sing all summer in the lime-
trees. They worked their servants without any wages,
till they would not work any more, and then quarrelled
with them, and turned them out of doors without paying
them. It would have been very odd, if, with such a
farm, and such a system of farming, they hadn't got very
rich; and very rich they did get. They generally con-
trived to keep their corn by them till it was very dear,
and then sell it for twice its value ; they had heaps of gold
lying about on their floors, yet it was never known that
they had given so much as a penny or a crust in charity;
they never went to mass; grumbled .. 1.. ,11 'i at paying
tillies; and were, in a word, of so cruel and grinding a
temper, as to receive from 1ll those with whom they had
any dealings, the i;cknuame of the Black Brothers."
8*






58 LITTLE CLASSICS.

The youngest brother, Gluck, was as completely op-
posed, in both appearance and character, to his seniors
as could possibly be imagined or desired. He was not
above twelve years old, fair, blue-eyed, and kind in tem-
per to every living thing. He did not, of course, agree
particularly well with his brothers, or, rather, they did
not agree with him. He was i11 appointed to the
honorable office of turnspit, when there was anything to
roast, which was not often; for, to do the brothers jus-
tice, they were hardly less sparing upon themselves than
upon other people. At other times lie used to clean the
shoes, the floors, and sometimes the plates, occasionally
getting what was left on them, by way of encourage-
ment, and a wholesome quantity of dry blows, by way of
education.
Things went on in this manner for a long time. At
last came a very wet summer, and everything went wrong
in the country round. The hay had hardly been got in,
when the haystacks were floated bodily down to the sea
by an inundation; the vines were cut to pieces with the
hail; the corn was all killed by a black blight; only in
the Treasure Valley, as usual, all was safe. As it had
rain when there was rain nowhere else, so it had sun
when there was sun nowhere else. Everybody came to
buy corn at the farm, and went away pouring maledic-
tions on the Black Brothers. They asked what they
liked, and got it, except from the poor people, who could
only beg, and several of whom were starved at their very
door, without the slightest regard or notice.
It was drawing toward winter, and very cold weather,
when one day the two elder brothers had gone out, with






THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 59

their usual warning to little Gluck, who was left to mind
the roast, that he was to let nobody in, and give nothing
out. Gluck sat down quite close to the fire, for it was
raining very hard, and the kitchen walls were by no
means dry or comfortable looking. He turned and
turned, and the roast got nice and brown. "What a
pity," thought Gluck, my brothers never ask anybody
to dinner. I'm sure, when they 've got such a nice
piece of mutton as this, and nobody else has got so much
as a piece of.dry bread, it would do their hearts good to
have somebody to cat it with them."
Just as he spoke, there came a double knock at the
house-door, yet heavy and dull, as though the knocker
had been tied up, more like a puff than a knock.
"It must be the wind," said Gluck; "nobody else
would venture to knock double knocks at our door."
No; it wasn't the wind; there it came again very
hard, and, what was particularly astounding, the knocker
seemed to be in a hurry, and not to be in the least afraid
of the consequences. Gluck went to the window, opened
it, and put his head out to see who it was.
It was the most extraordinary-looking little gentleman
he had ever seen in his life. He had a very large nose,
slightly brass-colored; his cheeks were very round and
very red, and might have warranted a supposition that
he had been blowing a refractory fire for the last eight-
and-forty hours; his eyes twinkled merrily through long
silky eyelashes, his mustaches curled twice round like a
corkscrew on each side of his mouth, and his hair, of a
curious mixed pepper-and-salt color, descended far over
his shoulders. He was about four feet six in height, and






LITTLE CLASSICS.


wore a conical pointed cap of nearly the same altitude,
decorated with a black feather some three feet long.
His double was prolonged behind into something re-
sembling a violent exaggeration of what is now termed a
"swallow-tail," but was much obscured by the .. ii..
folds of an enormous black, glossy-looking cloak, which
must have been very much too long in calm weather, as
the wind, whistling round the old house, carried it clear
out from the wearer's shoulders to about four times his
own length.
Gluck was so i 1i paralyzed by the singular ap-
pearance of his visitor, that he remained fixed without
uttering a word, until the old .. i....... having per-
formed another and a more energetic concerto on the
knocker, turned round to look after his fly-away cloak.
In so doing he caught sight of Gluck's little yellow head
jammed in the window, with its mouth and eyes very
wide open indeed.
Hollo! said the little gentleman, that's not the
way to answer the door; I 'in wet, let me in."
To do the little gentleman justice, lie was wet. His
feather hung down between his legs like a beaten
puppy's tail, dripping like an umbrella; and from the
ends of his mustaches the water was running into his
waistcoat-pockets, and out again like a mill-stream.
"I beg pardon, sir," said Gluck, "I'm very sorry,
but I really can't."
Can't what ? said the old gentleman.
I can't let you in, sir, -I cai't, indeed ; my broth-
crs would beat me to death, sir, if I thought of such a
thing. What do you want, sir?"






THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 61

"Want? said the old gentleman,.. .,ill.l- "I
want fire and shelter; and there 's your great fire
there blazing, crackling, and dancing on the walls, with
nobody to feel it. Let me in, I say; I only want to
warm myself."
Gluck had had his head, by this time, so long out of
the window, that he began to feel it was really un-
pleasantly cold, and when lie turned, and saw the
beautiful fire rustling and. roaring, and throwing long
bright tongues up the chimney, as if it were licking its
chops at.the savory smell of the leg of mutton, his heart
melted within him that it should be burning away for
nothing. "I e does look very wet," said little Gluck;
" I '1l just let him in for a quarter of an hour." Round
lie went to the door, and opened it; and as the little
gentleman walked in, through the house came a gust
of wind that made the old chimneys totter.
"That's a good boy," said the little gentleman.
"Never mind your brothers. I'll talk to them."
"Pray, sir, don't do any such thing," said Gluck.
"I can't let you stay till they come; they'd be the
death of me."
Dear me," said the old gentleman, I very sorry
to hear that. How long may I stay ? "
"Only till the mutton 's done, sir," replied Gluck,
and it's very brown."
Thicn the old gentleman walked into the kitchen, and
sat himself down on the hob, with the top of his cap
accommodated up the chimney, for it was a great deal
too high for the roof.
"You'll soon dry there, sir," said 'Gluck, and sat






LITTLE CLASSICS.


down again to turn the mutton. But the old gentle-
man did not dry there, but went on drip, drip, dripping
among the cinders, and the fire fizzed and sputtered,
and began to look very black and uncomfortable; never
was such a cloak ; every fold in it ran like a gutter.
"I beg pardon, sir," said Gluck at length, after
watching the water spreading in long quicksilver-like
streams over the floor for a quarter of an hour; "may n't
I take your cloak ? "
No, thank you," said the old gentleman.
"Your cap, sir ? "
"I'm all right, thank you," said the old gentleman,
rather gruffly.
But sir I 'm very sorry," said Gluck, hesitat-
ingly; "but -really, sir -you're putting the fire out."
"It'll take longer to do the mutton then," replied
his visitor dryly.
Gluck was very much puzzled by the behavior of his
guest; it was such a strange mixture of coolness and
humility. He turned away at the string meditatively
for another five minutes.
"That mutton looks very nice," said the old gentle-
man, at length. Can't you give me a little bit ?"
"Impossible, sir," said Gluck.
"I 'm very hungry," continued the old gentleman;
" I've had nothing to eat yesterday, nor to-day. They
surely could n't miss a bit from the knuckle! "
He spoke in so very melancholy a tone, that it quite
melted Gluck's heart. "They promised me one slice
to-day, sir," said he; "I can give you that, but not a
bit more."







THE KING OF TIE GOLDEN RIVER. 63

That's a good boy," said the old : ,i .i...i again.
Then Gluck warmed a plate and sharpened a knife.
"I don't care if I do get beaten for it," thought lie.
Just as he had cut a large slice out of the mutton,
there came a tremendous rap at the door. The old
gentleman jumped off the hob, as if it had suddenly
become ;... ...I. ,i a warm. Gluck fitted the slice into
the mutton again, with desperate efforts at exactitude,
and ran to open the door.
What did you keep us waiting in the rain for?"
said Schwartz, as he walked in, 1,.. ;. his umbrella
in Gluck's face. "Ay! what for, indeed, you little
vagabond ?" said Hans, administering an educational
box on the ear, as he followed his brother into the
kitchen.
"Bless my soul!" said Schwartz, when he opened
the door.
Amen," said the little gentleman, whlo had taken his
cap off, and was standing in the middle of the kitchen,
bowing with the utmost possible velocity.
Who 's that ? said Schwartz, catching up a rolling-
pin, and turning to Gluck with a fierce frown.
"I don't know, indeed, brother," said Gluck, in great
terror.
How did he get in ? roared Schwartz.
"My dear brother," said Gluck, deprecatingly, "he
was so very wet!"
The rolling-pin was descending on Gluck's head;
but, at the instant, the old gentleman interposed his
conical cap, on which it crashed with a shock that
shook the water out of it all over the room. What was






LITTLE CLASSICS.


very odd, the rolling-pin no sooner touched the cap,
than it flew out of Schwartz's hand, spinning like a
straw in a high wind, and fell into the corner at the
further end of the room.
Who are you, sir ? demanded Schwartz, turning
upon him.
What's your business ? snarled Hans.
"I 'm a poor old man, sir," the little gentleman
began very .... i. 1 "and I saw your fire through
the window, and begged shelter for a quarter of an
hour."
"Have the goodness to walk out again, then," said
Schwartz. "We 've quite enough water in our kitchen,
without making it a drying-house."
"It is a cold day to turn an old man out in, sir; look
at my gray hairs." They hung down to'his shoulders,
as I told you before.
"Ay! said Hans, "there are enough of them to
keep you warm. Walk! "
I'm very, very hungry, sir; could n't you spare me
a bit of bread before I go ? "
"Bread, indeed said Schwarlz; "do you suppose
we've nothing to do with our bread but to give it to
such red-nosed fellows as you ? "
"Why don't you sell your feather?" said Hans,
sneeringly. Out with you."
"A little bit," said the old gentleman.
"Be off! said Schwartz.
"Pray, gentlemen."
"Off, and be hanged cried Hans, seizing him by
the collar. But lie had no sooner touched the old gentle-






THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 65

man's collar, than away he went after the rolling-pin,
spinning round and round, till lie fell into the corner
on the top of it. Then Selwartz was very angry, and
ran at the old gentleman to turn him out; but lie also
had hardly touched him, when away he went after Hans
and the rolling-pin, and hit his head against the wall as
lie tumbled into the corner. And so there they lay, all
three.
Then the old gentleman spun himself round with
velocity in the opposite direction; continued to spin
until his long cloak was all wound m,. 11 about him;
clapped his cap on his head, very much on one side (for
it could not stand upright without going through the
ceiling), gave an additional twist to his corkscrew mus-
taches, and replied with perfect coolness: Gentlemen,
I wish you a very good morning. At twelve o'clock to-
night, I'll call again; after such a refusal of hospitality
as I have just experienced, you will not be surprised if
that visit is the last I ever pay you."
If ever I catch you here again," muttered Schwartz,
coming, half frightened, out of the corner, but, before
he could finish his sentence, the old gentleman had shut
the house-door behind him with a great bang; and past
the window, at the same instant, drove a wreath of rag-
ged cloud, that whirled and rolled away down the valley
in all manner of shapes; turning over and over in the
air; and melting away at last in a gush of rain.
"A very pretty business, indeed, AMr. Gluck!" said
Schwartz. "Dish tihe mutton, sir. If ever I catch you
at such a trick again Bless me, why the mutton 's
been cut! "






LITTLE CLASSICS.


You promised me one slice, brother, you know," said
Gluck.
Oh and you were cutting it hot, I suppose, and
going to catch all the gravy. It'll be long before I
promise you such a thing again. Leave the room, sir;
and have the kindness to wait in the coal-cellar till I call
you."
Gluck left the room melancholy enough. The brothers
ate as much mutton as they could, locked the rest in the
cupboard, and proceeded to get very drunk after dinner.
Such a night as it was! Howling wind, and rushing
rain, without intermission. The brothers had just sense
enough left to put up all the shutters, and double bar
the door, before they went to bed. They usually slept
in the same room. As the clock struck twelve, they
were both awakened by a tremendous crash. Their door
burst open with a violence that shook the house from
top to bottom.
What's that ?" cried Schwartz, starting up in his
bed.
"Only I," said the little gentleman.
The two brothers sat up on their bolster, and stared
into the darkness. The room was full of water, and by
a misty moonbeam, which found its way through a hole
in the shutter, they could see, in the midst of it, an
enormous foam globe, spinning round, and bobbing up
and down like a cork, on which, as on a most luxurious
cushion, reclined the little old gentleman, cap and all.
There was plenty of room for it now, for the roof was
off.
"Sorry to incommode you," said their visitor, ironi-







THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 67

cally. "1 'm afraid your beds are dampish; perhaps
you had better go to your brother's room; I've left the
ceiling on there."
They required no second admonition, but rushed into
Gluck's room, wet through, and in an agony of terror.
You'll find my card on the kitchen table," the old
gentleman called after them. Remember the last
visit."
Pray Heaven it may be! said Schwartz, shudder-
ing. And the foam globe disappeared.
Dawn came at last, and the two brothers looked out
of Gluck's little window in the morning. The Treasure
Valley was one mass of ruin and desolation. The inun-
dation had swept away trees, crops, and cattle, and left,
in their stead, a waste of red sand and gray mud. The
two brothers crept, shivering and horror-struck, into the
kitchen. The water had gutted the whole first floor:
corn, money, almost every movable thing had been swept
away, and there was left only a small white card on the
kitchen table. On it, in large, breezy, long-legged let-
ters, were engraved the words: -

POUTHWEST WIJND, EQUIFE.


II.

SOUTHWEST WIND, ESQUIRE, was as good as his word.
After the momentous visit above related, lie entered the
Treasure V 11. no more; and, what was worse, he had
so much influence with his relations, the West Winds in
general, and used it so II ... ll,.. that they all adopted






b6 LITTLE CLASSICS.

a similar line of conduct. So no rain fell in the valley
from one year's end to another. Though .. ..
remained green and ii ... :1,i..'- in the plains below, the
inheritance of the Three Brothers was a desert. What
had once been the richest soil in the kingdom became
a shifting heap of red sand; and the brothers, unable
longer to contend with the adverse skies, abandoned
their valueless patrimony in despair, to seek some means
of gaining a livelihood among the cities and people of
the plains. All their money was gone, and they had
nothing left but some curious, old-fashioned pieces of
gold plate, the last remnants of their 1ii1....11. wealth.
Suppose we turn goldsmiths ?" said Schwartz to
Hans, as they entered the large city. "It is a good
knave's trade; we can put a great deal of copper into
the gold, without any one's fidl'in-. it out."
The thought was agreed to be a very good one; they
hired a furnace, and turned goldsmiths. But two slight
circumstances affected their trade: the first, that people
did not approve of the coppered gold; the second, that
the two elder brothers, whenever they had sold anything,
used to leave little Gluck to mind the furnace, and go
and drink out the money in the ale-house next door. So
1 .. .. I. all their gold, without making money enough
to buy more, and were at last reduced to one large drink-
ing-mug, which an uncle of his had given to little Gluck,
and which he was very fond of, and would not have
parted with for the world; though he never drank any-
thing out of it but milk and water. The mug was a
very odd mug to look at. The handle was formed of
two wreaths of flowing golden hair, so finely spun that







THE KING OF iTHE GOLDEN RIVER. 69

it looked more like silk than like metal, and these
wreaths descended into, and mixed with, a beard and
whiskers, of the same exquisite workmanship, which sur-
rounded and decorated a very fierce little face, of the
reddest gold imaginable, right in the front of the mug,
with a pair of eyes in it which seemed to command its
whole circumference. It was impossible to drink out of
the mug without being subjected to an intense gaze out
of the side of these eyes; and Schwartz positively averred
that once, after emptying it full of Ithenish seventeen
times, lie had seen them. wink! When it came to the
mug's turn to be made into spoons, it half broke poor lit-
tle Gluck's heart; but the brothers only laughed at him,
tossed the mug into the melting-pot, and staggered out
to the ale-house; leaving him, as usual, to pour the gold
into bars, when it was all ready.
When they were gone, Gluck took a farewell look at
his old friend in the melting-pot. The :1. i."- h air was
all gone; nothing remained but the red nose, and the
sparkling eyes, which looked more malicious than ever.
" And no wonder," thought Gluck, after being treated
in that way." He sauntered disconsolately to the win-
dow, and sat himself down to catch the fresh evening
air, and escape the hot breath of the furnace. Now this
window commanded a direct view of the range of moun-
tains, which, as I told you before, overhung the Treasure
Valley, and more ....1 i, of the peak from which fell
the Golden River. It was just at the close of the day,
and, when Gluck sat down at the window, he saw the
rocks of the mountain-tops, all crimson and purple with
the sunset; and there were bright tongues of fiery cloud







LITTLE CLASSICS.


burning and quivering about them; and the river, brighter
than all, fell, in a waving column of pure gold, from
precipice to precipice; with the double arch of a broad
purple rainbow stretched across it, flushing and fading
alternately in the wreaths of-spray.
All! said Gluck aloud, after lie Ihad looked at it
for a little whilc, if that river were really all gold, what
a nice thing it would be!"
No, it would n't, Gluck," said a clear, metallic voice,
close at his ear.
Bless me, what's that ? exclaimed Gluck, jump-
ing up. There was nobody there. Hle looked round
the room, and under the table, and a great many times
behind him, but there was certainly nobody there, and
he sat down again at the window. This time lie did
n't speak, but lie could n't help thinking again that it
would be very convenient if the river were really all
gold.
Not at all, my boy," said the same voice, louder than
before.
Bless me said Gluck again, what is that ? Ile
looked again into all the corners and cupboards, and
then began turning round and round, as fast as lie could,
in the middle of the room, thinking there was somebody
behind him, when the same voice struck again on his car.
It was singing now very merrily "Lala-lira-la "; no
words, only a soft running effervescent melody, ...... li';.
like that of a kettle on the boil. Gluck looked out of the
window. No, it was certainly in the house. Up stairs,
and down stairs. No, it was certainly in that very room,
coming in quicker time and clearer notes every moment.






THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 71

"Lala-lira-la." All at once it struck Gluck that it
sounded louder near the furnace. He ran to the opening
and looked in ; yes, lie saw right, it seemed to be coming,
not only out of the furnace, but out of the pot. He
uncovered it, and ran back in a great fright, for the pot
was certainly singing! He stood in the farthest corner
of the room, with his hands up, and his mouth open, for
a minute or two, when the singing stopped, and the voice
became clear and pronunciative.
Hollo said the voice.
Gluck made no answer.
IIollo Gluck, my boy," said the pot again.
Gluck summoned all his energies, walked straight up
to the crucible, drew it out of the furnace, and looked
in. The gold was all melted, and its surface as smooth
and polished as a river; but instead of its reflecti',g little
Gluck's head, as he looked in, he saw meeting ihs glance,
from beneath the gold, the red nose and the siarp eyes
of his old friend of the mug, a thousand times redder and
sharper than ever he had seen them in his life.
"Come, Gluck, my boy," said the voice out of the
pot again, I 'm all right; pour me out."
But Gluck was too much astonished to do anything
of the kind.
"Pour me out, I say," said the voice, rather .,,"'1
Still Gluck could n't move.
Will you pour me out ?" said the voice, passionately.
"I 'm too hot."
By a violent effort, Gluck recovered the use of his
limbs, took hold of the crucible, and sloped it sc, as to
pour out the gold. But instead of a 'iquid streakl ,,nere






LITTLE CLASSICS.


came out, first, a pair of pretty little yellow legs, then
some coat-tails, then a pair of arms stuck akimbo, and,
finally, tile well-known head of his friend the mug; all
which articles, uniting as they rolled out, stood up en-
ergetically on the floor, in the shape of a little golden
dwa-rf, about a foot and a half high.
That's right said the dwarf, stretching out first
his legs, and then his arms, and then shaking his head
up and down, and as far round as it would go, for five
minutes, without stopping; '1I...... i with the view of
ascertaining if lie were quite correctly put together, while
Gluck stood contemplating Ilim in speechless amazement.
11 was dressed in a slashed doublet of spun gold, so
fine in its texture that the prismatic colors gleamed over
it, as if on a surface of mother-of-pearl; and over this
brilliant double his hair and beard fell full' half-way to
the ground, in waving curls, so exquisitely delicate, that
Gluck could hardly tell where they ended ; they seemed
to mclt into air. The features of tie face, however, were
by no means finished with the same delicacy; they were
rather coarse, slightly inclining to coppery in complexion,
and indicative, in expression, of a very perti!acious and
intractable disposition in their small proprietor. h lien
the dwarf had finished his self-exaimnation, lie turned
his '.. '! sharp eyes full on Gluck, and stared at him
deliberately for a minute or two. No, it would n't,
Gluck, my boy," said the little man.
This ws certainly rather an abrupt and uncomnected
mode of colmmencing conversation. It might indeed be
supposed to refer to the course of Gluck's thoughts,
which had first produced the dwarf's observations out






THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 73


of the pot; but whatever it referred to, Gluck had no
inclination to dispute ithe dictum.
Would n't it, sir ?" said Gluck, very mildly and
submissively indeed.
No," said the dwarf, conclusively. No, it would n't."
And with that, the dwarf pulled his cap hard over his
brows, and took two turns of three feet long, up and
down the room, lifting his legs very high, and setting
them down very hard. This pause gave time for Gluck
to collect his thoughts a little, and, seeing no great rea-
son to view his diminutive visitor with dread, and feeling
his curiosity overcome his amazement, he ventured ol a
question of peculiar delicacy.
"Pray, sir," said Gluck, rather hesitatingly, were
you my mug ? "
Oil which the little man turned sharp round, walked
straight up to Gluck, and drew himself up to his full
height. "I," said the little man, "am the King of the
Golden River." Whereupon he turned about again,
and took two more turns, some six feet long, in order
to allow time for the consternation which this anuomunc-
ment produced in his auditor toevaporate. After which
he again walked up to Glhck and stood still, as if ex-
peeting sonic comment on his communication.
Gluek determined to say ... i1,',, at all events. "I
hope your Majesty is very well," said Gluek.
Listen! said the li tle man, deigning no reply to
this polite inquiry. I am the King of what you mor-
tals call the Golden River. The shape you saw me in
was owing to the malice of a stronger king, from whose
enchantments you have this instant freed me. What 1
VOL. X. 4






LITTLE CLASSICS.


have seen of you, and your conduct to your wiicked
brothers, renders me willing to serve you; therefore
attend to what I tell you. Whoever shall climb to the
top of that mountain from which you see the Golden
River issue, and shall cast into the stream at its source
three drops of holy water, for him, and for him only, the
river shall turn to gold. But no one failing in his first,
can succeed in a second attempt; and if any one shall
cast unholy water into tlie river, it will overwhelm him,
and lie will become a black stone." So saying, lie King
of the Golden River turned away, and deliberately walked
into the centre of the hottest flame of the furnace. His
figure became red, white, transparent, dazzling, a blaze
of intense light, -rose, trembled, and disappeared. The
King of the Golden River had evaporated. ,
Oh! cried poor Gluck, running to look up the chim-
ney after him; "0 dear, dear, dear me My mug!
my mug my mug !"


III.

THE King of the Golden River had hardly made his
extraordinary exit before Ians and Schlwartz came roar-
ing into the house, very savagely drunk. The discovery
of the total loss of their last piece of' plate had the effect
of sobering them just enough to enable them to stand
over Gluck, beating him very steadily for a quarter of an
hour; at the expiration of which period they dropped
into a couple of chairs, and requested to know what lie
had got to say for himself. Gluck told them his story,
of which of course they did not believe a word. They






THE KING OF TIE GOLDEN RIVER. 75

beat him again, till their arms were tired, and staggered
to bed. In the morning, however, tlhe steadiness with
which he adhered to his story obtained him some degree
of credence; the immediate consequence of which was,
that the two brothers, after wrangling a long time on the
knloty question which of them should try his fortune
first, drew their swords, and began fighting. The noise
of the fray alarmed the neighbors, who, finding they
could not pacify the combatants, sent for the constable.
Hans, on hearing this, contrived to escape, and hid
himself; but Schwartz was taken before the magistrate,
fined for breaking the peace, and, having drunk out his
last penny the evening before, was thrown into prison
till lie should pay.
When Hans beard this, be was much delighted, and
determined to set out immediately for the Golden River.
How to get tlhe holy water, was the question. lie went
to the priest, but the priest could not give any holy
water to so abandoned a character. So Hans went to
vespers in the evening for the first time in his life, and,
under pretence of crossing himself, stole a cupful, and
returned home in triumph.
Next morning he got up before the sun rose, put the
holy water into a strong flask, and two bottles of wine
and some meat in a basket, slung them over his back,
took his alpine staff in his hand, and set off for the
mountains.
On his way out of the town lie had to pass the prison,
and as lie looked in at the windows, whom should he
see but Sclhwartz himself peeping out of the bars, and
looking very disconsolate?






LITTLE CLASSICS.


"Good morning, brother," said Hans; have you
any message for the King of the Golden Isiver? "
Schwartz gnashed his teeth with rage, and shook the
bars with all his strength; but IIans only laughed at
him, and advising him to make himself comfortable till
he came back again, shouldered his basket, shook the
bottle of holy water in Schwartz's face till it frothed
again, and marched off in the highest spirits in the
world.
It was, indeed, a morning that might have made any
one happy, even with no Golden River to seek for.
Level lines of dewy mist lay stretched along the 1 il.
out of which rose the massy uiointains, -lheir lower
cliffs in pale gray shadow, hardly distinguishable from
the floating vapor, but gradually ascending till they
caught the sunlight, which ran in sharp touches of ruddy
color along the angular crags, and pierced, in long level
rays, through their fringes of spear-like pine. Far above,
shot up red splintered masses of castellated rock, jagged
and shivered into myriads of fantastic forms, with here
and there a streak of sunlit snow, traced down their
chasms like a line of forked lightning ; and, far beyond,
and far above all these, fainter than the morning cloud,
but purer and changeless, slept, in the blue sky, the
utmost peaks of the eternal snow.
The Golden River, which sprang from one of the
lower and snowless elevations, was now nearly in
shadow ; all but the uppermost jets of spray, which rose
like slow smoke above the undulating line of the cataract,
and floated away in feeble wreaths upon the morning
wind.






THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 77

On this object, and on this alone, IIans's eyes and
thoughts were fixed; forgetting the distance le had to
traverse, lie set off at an imprudent rate of .11..
which greatly exhausted lin before lie had scaled the
first range of the green and low hills. lie was, more-
over, surprised, on surmounting them, to find that a
large glacier, of whose existence, notwithstanding his
previous knowledge of the mountains, he had been
absolutely ignorant, lay between him and the source of
the Golden Itiver. iHe entered on it with the boldness
of a practised mountaineer; yet lie thought lie had never
traversed so strange or so dangerous a glacier in his life.
The ice was excessively slippery, and out of all its chasms
came wild sounds of gushing water; not monotonous or
low, but changeful and loud, rising .. i;..1 11 into
drifting passages of wild melody, then breaking off into
short, melancholy tones, or sudden shrieks, resembling
those of human voices in distress or pain. The ice was
broken into thousands of confused shapes, but none, Hans
thought, like the ordinary forms of splintered ice. There
seemed a curious exp,'essioin about all their outlines,
a perpetual resemblance to living features, distorted and
scornful. Myriads of deceitful shadows and lurid lights
played and floated about and through the pale blue pin-
nacles, dazzling and confusing tlie sight of the traveller;
while his cars grew dull and his head giddy with the
constant gush and roar of the concealed waters. These
painful circumstances increased upon him as he advanced;
the ice crashed and yawned into fresh enasnis at his feet,
tottering spires nodded around him, and fell thundering
across his path ; and though lie had repeatedly faced these






LITTLE CLASSICS.


dangers on tlhe-most tcrrife glaciers, and in the wildest
weather, it was with a new and oppressive feeling of
panic terror that he leaped the last chasm, and flulng
himself, exhausted and shuddering, on the firm turf of
the mountain.
lie had been compelled to abandon his basket of food,
which became a perilous inceunbrance on the glacier, and
had now no means of refreshing himself but by breaking
off and eating some of the pieces of ice. This, however,
relieved his thirst; an hour's repose recruited his hardy
frame, and, with the indomitable spirit of avarice, lie
resumed his laborious journey.
His way now lay straight up a ridge of bare, red rocks,'
without a blade of grass to ease the foot or a projecting
angle to afford an inch of shade from the south sun. It
was past noon, and the rays beat intensely upon the steep
path, while the whole atmosphere was motionless, and
penetrated witl heat. Inlense thirst was soon added
to the bodily fatigue with which Hans was now afflicted ;
glance after glance le cast on the flask of water which
hung at his belt. "Three drops are enough," at last
thought lie; I may, at least, cool my lips with it."
He opened the flask, and was raising it to Iis lips,
when his eye fell on an object lying on the rock beside
him ; lie thoMght it moved. It was a small dog, appar-
ently in the last agony of death from thirst. Its tongue
was out, its jaws dry, its limbs extended lifelessly, and
a swarm of black ants were crawling about its lips and
throat. Its eye moved to tile bottle which Hans held in
his hand 11e raised it, drank, spurned the animal witl
his foot, and passed on. And lie did not know how it







THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 79

was, but lie thought that a strange shadow had suddenly
come across the blue sky.
The ipath became steeper and more rugged every mo-
ment ; and the high hill air, instead of refreshing him,
seemed to throw his blood into a fever. The noise of the
hill cataracts sounded like mockery in his ears; they
were all distant, and his thirst increased every moment.
Another hour passed, and he again looked down to the
flask at his side; it was half empty, but there was much
more than three drops in it. He stopped to open it, and
again, as le did so, something moved in the path above
him. It was a fair child, stretched nearly lifeless on the
rock, its breast heaving witl thirst, its eyes closed, and
its lips parched and burning. Hans eyed it deliberately,
drank, and passed on. And a dark gray cloud came
over the sun, and long snake-like shadows crept up along
the mountain-sides. Hans struggled on. The sun was
sinking, but its descent seemed to bring no coolness;
the leaden weight of the dead air pressed upon his brow
and heart, but the goal was near. He saw the cataract
of the Golden River springing from the hillside, scarcely
five hundred feet above hli. He paused for a moment
to breathe, and sprang on to compicte his task.
At this instant a taint cry fell on his car. He turned,
and saw a gray-haired old man extended on the rocks.
His eyes were sunk, his features 1. i1 pale, and gath-
ered into an expression of despair. Water! lie
stretched his arms to Hals, and cried feebly, -" Water!
I am dying."
"I have none," replied Hans; "thou hast had thy
share of life." He strode over the prostrate body, and







LITTLE CLASSICS.


darted on. And a flash of blue lightning rose out of tile
east, shaped like a sword; it shook thrice over the whole
heaven, and left it (lark with one heavy, impenetrable
shade. Tlie sun was setting; it plunged toward the
horizon like a red-hot ball.
The roar of the Golden River rose on Hans's car.
lie stood at the brink of the chasm through which it ran.
Its waves were filled with the red glory of the sunset:
they shook their crests like tongues of fire, and flashes
of bloody light gleamed along their foam. Their sound
came mightier and mightier on his senses; his brain
grew giddy with the prolonged thunder. -.i.. i,
lie drew the flask from his girdle, andl hurled it into the
cencre of Ilie torrent. As lie did so, an icy chill shot
through his limbs; he staggered, shrieked, and fell.
The waters closed over his cry. And the moaning of the
river rose wildly into the night, as it gushed over

THE BLACK STONE.


IV.

PooR little Glnck waited very anxiously alone in the
house for Hans's return. Finding lie did not come back,
he was terribly frightened, and went and told Schwartz
in the prison all that hand happened. Then Schwartz
was very much pleased, and said that I[ans must cer-
tainly have been turned into a black stone, and lie should
have all the gold to himself. But Gluck was very sorry,
and cried all night. When he got up in the morning,
there was no bread in the house, nor any money; so






THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 81

Gluck went and hired himself to another goldsmith, and
he worked so hard, and so neatly, and so long every day,
that lie soon got money enough togehller to pay his
brother's fine, and lhe went and gave it all to Schwartz,
and Schwartz got out of prison. Then Schwartz was
quite pleased, and said lie should have some of the gold
of the river. But Gluck only begged he would go and
see what had become of Hans.
Now when Schwartz had heard that Hans had stolen
the holy water, lie thought to himself that such a pro-
ceeeding might not be considered altogether correct by the
King of the Golden River, and determined to manage mat-
ters better. So lie took some more of Gluck's money, and
went to a bad priest, wxho gave him some holy water very
readily for it. Then Schwartz was sure it was all quite
right. So Schwartz got up early in the morning before
the sun rose, and took some bread and wine in a basket,
and put his holy water in a flask, and set off for the
mountains. Like his brother, lie was much surprised at
the sight of the glacier, and had great difficulty in cross-
ing it, even after leaving his basket behind him. The
day was cloudless, but not bright : a heavy purple haze
was hanging over the sky, and the hills looked lowering
and gloomy. And as Schwartz climbed the steep rock
path, the thirst came upon him, as it had upon his broth-
er, until lie lifted his flask to his lips to drink. Then
lie saw the fair child lying near him on the rocks, and it
cried to him, and moaned for water.
"W after, indeed," said Schwartz; "I have n't half
enough for myself," and passed on. And as he went he
thought the sunbeams grew more dim, and he saw a







LITTLE CLASSICS.


low bank of black cloud rising out of the west; and,
when lie had climbed for anotller hour, the thirst over-
came him again, and lie would have drunk. Thlln he
saw the old tn1: lyiig before him on the path, and heard
him cry out for water. Water, indeed," said Schwartz;
"I have n't half enough for myself," and on lie went.
Then again the light seemed to fade' from before his
eyes, and lie looked up, and, behold, a mist, of the color
of blood, had come over the sun ; and the bank of black
cloud had risen very high, and its edges were tossing and
tumbling like the waves of the angry sea. And they cast
long shadows, which flickered over Schwartz's path.
Then Schwartz climbed for another hour, and again
his thirst returned; and as lie lifted his flask to his lips,
he thought lie saw his brother Ians lying exhausted on
the path before him, and, as lie gazed, the figure stretched
its arms to him, and cried for water. Ha, ha," laughed
Schwariz, are you there ? remember the prison bars,
my boy. Water, indeed do you suppose I carried it
all the way up here for you ? And lie strode over the
figure; yet, as lie passed, he thought lie saw a strange
expression of mockery about its lips. And, when lie had
gone a few yards farther, he looked back; but the figure
was not there.
And a sudden horror came over Schwartz, lie knew
not why ; but the thirst for gold prevailed over his fear,
and lie rushed on. And the bank of black cloud rose
to the zenith, and out of it came bursts of spirylightning,
and waves of darkness seemed to heave and float between
their flashes, over the whole heavens. And the sky where
the sun was setting was all level, and like a lake of blood,







THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER.


and a strong wind came oat of that sky, tearing its crim-
son clouds into fragments, and scattering them far into
the darklasns. And when Schwartz stood by the brink
of the Golden liver, its waves were black like thunder-
clouds, but their foam was like fire; and the roar of the
waters below and the thunder above lmet, as lie cast the
flask into the stream. And, as lie did so, the lightning
glared in his eyes, and the earth gave way beneath him,
and the waters closed over his cry. And the moaning
of the river rose -..11 into the night, as it gushed over
the
TWO BLACK STONES.


V.

WHEN Gluck found that Schwartz did not come back,
lie was very sorry, and did not know what to do. Ile
had no mlonuey, and was obliged to go and hire himself
again to the goldsmith, who worked hiin very hard, and
gave lhin very little money. So, after a mouth or two,
Gluck grew tired, and made up his mind to go and try
his fortune with the Golden River. "Thle little king
looked very kind," thought lie. I don't think lie will
turn me into a black stone." So lie wenlt to the priest,
and the priest gave him some holy water as soon as lie
asked for it. Then Gluck took some bread in his basket,
and the bottle of water, and set olf very early for the
mountains.
If the glacier had occasioned a great deal of fatigue to
his brothers, it was twenty times worse for him, who was
neither so strong lnor so practised on the mountains,. lie






LITTLE CLASSICS.


had several very bad falls, lost his basket and bread, and
was very much frightened at the strange noises under
the ice. Hie lay a long time to rest on the grass, after
he had got over, and began to climb the hill just in the
hottest part of the day. When lie had climbed for an
hour, lie got dreadfully -ih; I and was going to drink
like his brothers,- when lie saw an old man coming down
the path above him, looking very feeble, and leaning on
a staff. My son," said the old man, I am faint with
thirst; give me some of that water." Then Gluck looked
at him, and whel he saw that he was pale and weary, lie
gave him the water; Only pray don't drink it all," said
Gluck. But the old man drank a great deal, and gave
him back the bottle two thirds empty. Then lie bade
hhi good speed, and Gluck went on again merrily. And
the path became easier to his feet, and two or three
blades of grass appeared upon it, and some grasshoppers
began singing on the bank beside it; and Gluck thought
lie had never heard such merry singing.
Then lie went on for another hour, and the thirst
increased on him so that lie thought lie should be forced
to drink. But, as lie raised the flask, he saw a little
child lying panting by the roadside, and it cried out
piteously for water. Then Gluck struggled with himself
and determined to bear the thirst a little longer; and he
put the bottle to the child's lips, and it drank it all but
a few drops. Then it smiled on him, and got up, and
ran down the hill; and Gluck looked after it, till it be-
came as small as a little star, and then turned, and began
climbing again. And then there were all kinds of sweet
flowers growing g on the rocks, bright green moss, with






TIHE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. 85

pale pink starry flowers, and soft-bcllcd gentians, more
blue than the sky at its deepest, and pure white trans-
parent lilies. And crimson and purple butterflies darted
hither and thither, and the sky sent down such pure
light that Gluck had never felt so happy in his life.
Yet, when lie had climbed for another hour, his thirst
became intolerable again; and, when lie looked at his
bottle, lie saw that there were only five or six drops left
in it, and le could not venture to drink. And as lie
was hanging the flask to his belt again, lie saw a little
dog lying on the rocks, gasping for breath, -just as
Ilans iad seen it on the day of his ascenlt. And Gluck
stopped and looked at it, and then at the Golden River,
not five hundred yards above hiii ; and lie thought of
the dwarf's words, that no one could succeed, except
in his first attempt "; and hi tried to pass the dog, but
it whined piteously, and Gluck stopped again. Poor
bcastic," said Gluck, "it '11 be dciad when I come down
again, if I don't help it." Then lhe looked closer and
closer at it, and its eye turned on hin so mournfully that
he could not stand it. Confound the King and his
gold too," said Gluck; and lhe opened the flask, and
poured all.the water into tlh diog's mouth.
The dog sprang up and stood on its hind legs. Its
tail disappeared, its ears became long, longer, silky,
golden; its nose became very red, its eyes became very
twinkling; in three seconds the dog was gone, and before
Gluck stood his old acquaintance, the King of the Golden
River.
"Thank yon," said the monarch; "but don't be
frightened, it's all right"; for Gluck showed manifest






LITTLE CLASSICS.


symptoms of consternation at this unlooked-for reply to
his last observation. WhI\ did n't you come before,"
continued the dwarf, "instead of spending me those ras-
cally brothers of yours, for me to hav ie he trouble of
turnill into stones? Very hard stones -,. make, too."
0 dear me i said Gluck, have you really been so
cruel "
"Cruel," said tlie dwarf, "they poured unholy water
into my stream; do you suppose I'mo going to allow
that ? "
"Wh'," said Gluck, "I am sure, sir, -your Majesty,
I mean, -they got tlie water out of lihe church font."
"Very probably," replied the dwarf; but," and his
countenance grew stern as le spoke, "the water which
has been refused to the cry of the weary and dying is
unholy, though it had been blessed by every saint in
heaven; and the water which is found in the vessel of
mercy is holy, though it had been defiled with corpses."
So saying, the dwarf stooped and plucked a lily that
grew at his feet. On its white leaves hung three
drops of clear dew. And the dwarf shook them into tlhe
flask which Gluck held in his hand. "Cast these into
the river," lie said, "and descend on the other side of
the mountains into the Treasure Yii And so good
speed."
As le spoke, the figure of the dwarf became indis-
tinct. The playing colors of his robe formed themselves
into a prismatic mist of dewy light; lie stood for an in-
stant veiled with them as with the belt of a broad rain-
bow. The colors grew faint, the mist rose into the air;
the monaroli had evaporated.







THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIU ER.


And Gluck climbed 1o tile brink of the Golden River,
and its waves were as clear as cr ystal and as brilliant as
the sun. And wheli he cast the three drops of dew into
the stream, there opened where they fell, a small circular
whirlpool, into which the waters descended with a mu-
sical noise.
Gluck stood watching it for some time, very nmclh ds-
appointed, because not only the river was not turned
into gold, but its waters seemed much diminished in
quantity. Yet lie obeyed his friend the dwarf, and
descended tile other side of the mountains, toward the
Treasure V i'. ; and, as he went, he thought he heard
the noise of water working its way under the ground.
And whenli lie came in sight of tle Treasure Valley,
behold, a river, like the Golden River, was springing
from a new cleft of tle rocks above it, and was flowing
in innumerable streams among the dry heaps of red sand.
And as Gluck gazed, fresl grass sprang beside the new
streams, and creeping plants grew, and climbed among
the moistening soil. Young flowers opened suddenly
along the river sides, as stars leap out when twilight is
deepening, and thickets of ni. and tendrils of vine,
cast lengthening shadows over the ,1i. as they grew.
And thus'the Treasure \ ii' became a garden again,
and the inheritance, which had been lost by cruelty, was
regained by lovc.
And Gluck went and dwelt in the valley, and the poor
were never driven from his door; so that his barns
became full of corn, and his house of' treasure. And,
for hiim, lhe river had according to the dwarf's promise,
become a River of Gold.







88 LITTLE CLASSICS.

And to this day the inhabitants of the valley point out
the place where the three drops of holy dew were cast
into the stream, and trace the course of the GDlden
River under the ground, until it emerges in the Trcasure
Valley. And, at the top of the cataract of the Golden
River, are still to be seen two BLACK STONES, rould
which the waters howl mournfully every day at sunset;
and these stones are still called, by the people of the
valley,
THE BLACK BROTHERS.
















THE LADY OF SHALOTT.

BY ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS.

T is not -, ...1' known that the Lady of
Shalott lived histl suiner in an attic, at the
L. east end of S:uth Street.
The wee-est, thinnest, whitest little lady And yet the
brightest, stillest, and withal such a smiling little lady!
If you had held her up liy the window,-for she
could not hold up herself, she would have hung like
a porcelain transparency in your hands. And if you had
said, laying her _. '1I down, and giving the tears a smart
dash, that they should not fall on her lifted face, "Poor
child the Lady of Shalott would have said, ".0,
don't! and smiled. And you would have smiled your-
self, for very surprise that she should outdo you; and
between the two there would have been so much smiling
done that one would have fairly thought it was a delight-
ful thing to live last summer in an attic at the east end
of South Street.
This perhaps was the more natural in the Lady of
Shalott because she had never lived anywhere else.
When the Lady of Shalott was five years old, her






LITTLE CLASSICS.


mother threw her down stairs one day, by mistake, in-
stead of the iwhiskey-jug.
This is a fact which I think Mr. Tennyson has omitted
to mention in his poem.
They picked up the Lady of Shalott and put her on
the bed ; and there she lay from that day until last sum-
mer, unless, as I said, somebody had occasion to use her
for a transparcucy.
The mother and the jug both went down the stairs to-
get her a few years after, and never came up at all, and
that was a great convenience, for the Lady of Shalott's
palace in the attic was not large, and they took up much
unIecessary room.
Since that the Lady of Slalott had lived with her sis-
ter, Sary Jane.
Sary Jane made nankeen vests, at sixteen and three
quarters cents a dozen.
Sary Jane had red hair, and crooked shoulders, and a
voice so much like a rat-trap which she sometimes set on
the stairs that the Lady of Shalott could seldom tell
which was which until she had thought about it a little
while. When there was a rat caught, she was apt to ask
" What ? and when Sary Jane spoke, she more often
than not said, There 's another "
Her crooked shoulders Sary Jane had acquired from
sitting under the eaves of the palace to sew. That
physiological problem was simple. There was not room
enough under the caves to sit straight.
Sary Jane's red hair was the result of sitting in the
suu on July noons under those caves, to see to thread
her needle. There was no question about that. The






THE LADY OF SHALOTT. 91

Lady of Shalott had settled it in her own mind, past
dispute. Sary Jane's hair had been--what was it?
brown ? once. Sary Jane was slowly taking fire. WVho
would not, to sit in the sun in that palace ? The only
matter of surprise to the Lady of Shalott was that the
palace itself did not smoke. Sometimes, when Sary Jane
hit the rafters, she was sure that she saw sparks.
As for Sary Jane's voice, when one knew that she
made nankeen vests at sixteen and three quarters cents
a dozen, that was a matter of no surprise. It never
surprised tihe Lady of Shalott.
But Sary Jane was very cross; there was no denying
that; very cross.
And the palace. Let me tell you about the palace.
It measured just twelve by nine feet. It would have
been seven feet post, -if there had been a post in the
middle of it. From the centre it sloped away to the
windows, where Sary Jane had just room enough to sit
crooked under the eaves at work. There were two win-
dows and a loose scuttle to let in the snow in winter and
the sun in summer, and the rain and wind at all times.
It was quite a diversion to the Lady of Shalott to see
how many I'l. !. .I ways of doing a disagreeable thing
seemed to be practicable to that scuttle. Besides thi
bed on which the Lady of Shalott lay, there was a stove
in Ihe palace, two chairs, a very ragged rag-mat, a shelf
with two notched cups and plates upon it, one pewter
teaspoon, and a looking-glass. On washing-days Siry
Jane climbed upon the chair and hung her clothes out
through tile scuttle on thle roof; or else she ran a little
rope from one of the windows to the other for a drying-







LITTLE CLASSICS.


rope. It would have been more exact to have said on
washing-nigh1s; for Sary Jane always did her washing
after dark. The reason was evident. If the rest of us
were in the habit of wearing all the clothes we had, like
Sary Jane, I have little doubt that we should do the same.
I should mention that there was no sink in the Lady of
Shalott's palace; no water. There was a dirly hydrant
in the yard, four flights bclow, which supplied lie Lady
of Shalott and all her neighbors. The Lady of Shalott
kept her coal under the bed; her flour, a pound at a
time, in a paper parcel, on the shelf, with the teacups
and the pewter spoon. If she had anything else to keep,
it went out through the palace scuttle and lay on the
roof. The Lady of Shalott's palace opened directly upon
a precipice. The lessor of the house called it a flight of
stairs. When Sary Jane went up and down she went
sidewise to preserve her balance. There were no ban-
nisters to the precipice, and about once a week a baby
patronized the rat-trap, instead. Once, when there was
a fire-alarm, the precipice was very serviceable. Four
women and an old man went over. With one exception
(she was eighteen, and could bear a broken collar-bone),
they will not, I am informed, go over again.
The Lady of Shalott paid one dollar a week for the
rent of her palace.
But then there was a looking-glass in the palace. I
think I noticed it. It hung on the slope of the rafters,
just opposite the Lady of Shalott's window, for she
considered that her window at which Sary Jane did not
make nankeen vests at sixteen and three quarters cents
a dozen.






THE LADY OF SHALOTT.


Now, because the looking-glass was opposite the awin-
dow at which Sary Jane di dnot make vests, and because
the rafters slopiad, and because the bed lay almost be-
tween the looking-glass and the window, the Lady of
Shalott was happy. And because, to the patient heart
that is a seeker after happiness, the little more, and
how much it is!" (and the little less, what worlds
away !) the Lady of Shalott was proud as well as happy.
The looking-glass measured in inches 10 X 6. I think
that the Lady of Slalott would have experienced rather
a touch of mortification than of envy if she had known
that there was a mirror in a house just round the corner
measuring almost as many feet. But that was one of
the advantages of being the Lady of Slalott. She never
parsed life in the comparative degree.
I suppose that one must be the Lady of Shalott to
understand what comfort there may be in a 10 X 6 inch
looking-glass. All the world came for the Lady of
Slhalott into her looking-glass,--the joy of it, tle an-
guish of it, the hope and fear of it, the health and hurt,
10 X G inches of it exactly.
"It is next best to not having been thrown down
stairs yourself!" said the Lady of Shalott.
To tell the truth, it sometimes occurred to her that
there was a monotony about the world. A garret win-
dow like her own, for instance, would fill her sight if
she did not tip the glass a little. Children sat in it, and
did not play. They made lean faces at her. They were
locked in for the day and were hungry. She could not
help knowing how hungry they were, and so tipped the
glass. Then there was the trap-door in the sidewalk.






LITTLE CLASSICS.


She became .. : ..... 11 tired of that trap-door. Seven
people lived under the sidewalk; and when -,. lifted
and slammed the trap, coming in and out, they reminded
her of something which Sary Jane bought her once,
when she was a very little child, at Christmas time,-
long ago, when rents were cheaper and flour low. It
was a monkey, with whiskers and a calico jacket, wiho
jumped out of a box when the cover was lifted; and
then you crushed him down and hasped himi in. Some-
times she wished that she had never had that monkey,
lie was so mucl like the people coming in and out of the
sidewalk.
In fact, there was a monotony about all the people in
the Lady of Shalott's looking-glass. If lheir faces were
not dirty, their hands were. If -I. had hats, they
went without shoes. If they did not sit in the sun with
their heads on their knees, they lay in the mud with
their heads on a jug.
Their faces look blue she said to Sary Jane.
"No wonder snapped Sary Jane.
"Why ? asked the Lady of Shalott.
Wonder is we ain't all dead! barked Sary Jane.
The people in the Lady of Slialott's glass died, how-
ever, sometimes, -often in the summer; more often
last sunliner, when the attic smoked contitnally, and she
mistook Sary Janlc's voice for the rat-trap evcry day.
The people were jostled into pine boxes (in tlie glass),
and carried away (in lihe glass) by twilight, in a cart.
Three of the monkeys from the spring-box in the side-
walk went, in one week, out into the fol, purple twi-
light, away from the looking-glass, in carts.






TIHE LADY OF SIALOTT.


"I'm glad of that, poor things said the Lady of
Shalott, for she had always felt a kind of sorrow for the
monkeys. 1..... I .i.. I think, because they had no
glass.
When the monkeys had gone, the sickly twilight
folded itself up, over the spring-box, into great feathers,
like the feathers of a Mwing. That was pleasant. The
Lady of SlIalott could almost put out her fingers and
stroke it, it Ihung so near, and was so clear, and gathered
such a peac:fuilness into the looking-glass.
Sary Jane, dear, it's very pleasant," said the Lady
of Shalott. Sary Jane said it was very dangerous, the
Lord knew, and bit her threads olf.
"And, Sary Jane, dear added the Lady of Shalott,
" I see so iman other pleas antt ltings."
"The more fool you i said Sary Jane.
But she wondered about it that day over her teith
lnankeeu vest. What, for example, could the Lady of
Shalott see?
"Waves said the Lady of Shalof t, suddenly, as if
she had been asked tlhe question. Sary Jane jumlpel.
She said, Nonsense F or the Lady of Slialott had
only seen the little wash-tub full of dingy water on
Sunday nights, and the dirty little hydrant (in the glass)
spouting dingy jets. She -would not have known a
wave if she lad seen it.
"But I see waves," said the Lady of Shalott. She
felt sure of it. They ran up iad down across the glass.
They had green faces and gray hair. They threw back
their hands, like cool people resting, and it seemed
unaccountable, at the east end of South Street last






LITTLE CLASSICS.


summer, that anything, anywhere, if only a wave in a
looking-glass, could be cool or at rest. Besides this,
they kept their faces clean. Therefore the Lady of
Shalott took pleasure in watching them run up and
down across the glass. That a thing could be clean,
and green, and white, was only less a wonder than
cool and rest last summer in South Street.
Sary Jane, dear," said the Lady of Slalott, one day,
" how hot is it up here ?"
Hot as Hell! said Sary Jane.
"I thought it was a little warm," said the Lady of
Slialott. Sary Jane, dear, is n't the yard down there a
little dirty ? "
Sary Jane put down her needle, and looked out of
the blazing, blindless window. It had always been a
subject of satisfaction to Sary Jane, somewhere down
below her lean shoulders and in the very teeth of the
rat-trap, that the Lady of Shalott could not see out of
that window. So she winked at the window, as if she
would caution it to hold its burning tongue, and said
never a word.
Sary Jane, dear," said the Lady of Shalott, once
more, had you ever thought that perhaps I was a
little weaker than I was once ? "
"I guess you can stand it if I can! said the rat-
trap.
"O, yes, dear," said the Lady of Shalott. "I can
stand it if you can."
Well, then!" said Sary Jane. But she sat and
winked at the bald window, and the window held its
buir'ing tongue.






THE LADY OF SHALOTT.


It grew hot in South Street. It grew very hot in
South Street. The lean children in the attic opposite
fell sick, and sat no longer in the window making faces,
in the Lady of Shalott's glass.
Two more monkeys from the spring-box were carried
away one ugly twilight in a cart. The purple wing
that hung over the spring-box lifted to let them pass;
and then fell, as if it had brushed them away.
"It has such a soft color 1 said the Lady of Shalott,
smiling.
So has nightshade said Sary Jane.
One day a beautiful thing happened. One can scarcely
understand how a beautiful thing coull happen at the
east end of South Street. The Lady of Shalott herself
did not entirely understand.
"It is all the glass," she said.
She was lying very still wlen she said it. She had
folded her hands, which were hot, to keep them quiet
too. She had closed her eyes, which ached, to close
away the glare of the noon. At once she opened them,
and said: -
It is the glass."
Sary Jane stood in the glass. Now Sary Jane, she
well knew, was not in the room that noon. She had
gone out to see what she could find for dinner. She had
five cents to spend on dinner. Yet Sary Jane stood
in the glass. And in the glass, ah! what a beautiful

"Flowers! cried the Lady of Sialott aloud. But
she had never seen flowers. But neither had she seen
waves. So she said, They come as the waves come."
voL. x. 5 G







LITTLE CLASSICS.


And knew them, and lay smiling. Al what a beauti-
ful, beautiful thing !
Sary Jane's hair was fiery and tumbled (in tlhe glass),
as if she had walked fast and far. Sary Jane (in lie
glass) was winking, as she had winked at thli blazing
window; as if site said to what slie held in her arms,
Don't tell! And in her arms (in tie glass), where the
waves were -ol! beautiful, beautiful! The Lady of
Slialott lay whispering : Beautiful, beautiful !" She
did not know what else to do. She dared not stir.
Sary Jane's lean arms (in the glass) were full of silver
bells; they lung out of a soft green shadow, like a
church tower; they nodded-to and fro; when they
shook, they shook out sweetness.
Will they ring ? asked the Lady of Slialott of the
little glass.
I doubt, in my own mind, if you or I, being in South
Street, and seeing a lily of the valley (in a 10 X 6 inch
looking-glass) for the very first time, would have asked
so sensible a question.
"Try 'em and see," said the looking-glass. Was it
the looking-glass ? Or the rat-trap?0 Or was it-
O, the beautiful thing! That the glass should have
nothing to do with it, after all! That Sary Jane, in
flesh and blood, and tumbled hair, and trembling, lean
arms, should stand and shake an armful of church
towers and silver bells down into the Lady of Slalott's
little puzzled face and burning hands!
And that the Ladv of Shalott should think that she
must have got inth the glass herself, by a blunder, -as
the only explanation possible of such a beautiful thing!






THE LADY OF SHAL.OTT.


"No, it is n't glass-dreams," said Sary Jane, wink-
ing at the church towers, where they made a solemn,
green shadow against the L idy of Slalott's bent cheek.
"Smiell 'cm and see. You can 'most stand the vard
with them round. Smell 'cm and see! It ain't the
glass; it 's the Flower C(.I i "
The what ?" asked the Lady of Shalott slowly.
"The Flower Charity."
"Heaven bless it !" said tie Lady of Slialott. But
she said nothing more.
SShe laid her check over into the shadow of the green
church towers. "And there '11 be more," said Sary
Jane, hunting for her wax. "There '11 be more, when-
ever I can call for 'emr, bless it! "
"Heaven bless it said the Lady of Sihalott again.
"But I only got a lemon for dinner," said Sary
Jane.
"Heaven bless it!" said the Lady of Slialott, with
her face hidden under the church towers. But I don't
think that she meant the lemon, though Sary Jane
did.
They do ring," said the Lady of Shalott by and by.
She drew the tip of her thin fingers across the tip of
the tiny bells. "I thought they would."
"Humph!" said Sary Jane, squeezing her lemon
under her work-box. "I never see your beat for glass-
dreams. What do they say ? Come, now!"
Now the Lady of Shalott knew very well what tley
said. Very well! But sihe only drew the tips of her
poor fingers over the tips of the silver bells. Clever
mind! It was not necessary to tell Sary Jane.




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