• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Half Title
 Advertising
 Front Matter
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 List of Illustrations
 The bravest of the Vikings
 The goldsmith's apprentice
 Joan of Arc and little Pierre
 William of Wykeham's workman
 How Master Caxton showed tempe...
 The sunbeam of the tower
 The vestal virgins
 How Livia won the brooch
 The eve of Caesar's "triumph"
 How Phidias helped the image-m...
 A true Spartan heart
 The garland of wild olive
 Back Matter
 Back Cover
 Spine






Title: Untold tales of the past
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00086405/00001
 Material Information
Title: Untold tales of the past
Physical Description: viii, 270 p. : ill. ; 19 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Harraden, Beatrice, 1864-1936
Millar, H. R ( Illustrator )
William Blackwood and Sons ( Publisher )
Publisher: William. Blackwood & Sons
Place of Publication: Edinburgh ;
London
Publication Date: 1897
 Subjects
Subject: Apprentices -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Middle Ages -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
History, Ancient -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1897   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1897
Genre: Children's stories
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: Scotland -- Edinburgh
England -- London
 Notes
Statement of Responsibility: by Beatrice Harraden ; with drawings by H.R. Millar.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00086405
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002231186
notis - ALH1554
oclc - 16377788

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Half Title
        Page i
    Advertising
        Page ii
    Front Matter
        Page iii
    Frontispiece
        Page iv
    Title Page
        Page v
    Table of Contents
        Page vi
    List of Illustrations
        Page vii
        Page viii
    The bravest of the Vikings
        Page 1
        Page 1a
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
    The goldsmith's apprentice
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
    Joan of Arc and little Pierre
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
    William of Wykeham's workman
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
    How Master Caxton showed temper
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
    The sunbeam of the tower
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
    The vestal virgins
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
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        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
    How Livia won the brooch
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
        Page 188
        Page 189
        Page 190
        Page 191
        Page 192
        Page 193
        Page 194
    The eve of Caesar's "triumph"
        Page 195
        Page 196
        Page 197
        Page 198
        Page 199
        Page 200
        Page 201
        Page 202
        Page 203
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
        Page 207
        Page 208
        Page 209
        Page 210
        Page 211
        Page 212
    How Phidias helped the image-maker
        Page 213
        Page 214
        Page 215
        Page 216
        Page 217
        Page 218
        Page 219
        Page 220
        Page 221
        Page 222
        Page 223
        Page 224
        Page 225
        Page 226
        Page 227
        Page 228
        Page 229
        Page 230
        Page 231
        Page 232
    A true Spartan heart
        Page 233
        Page 234
        Page 235
        Page 236
        Page 237
        Page 238
        Page 239
        Page 240
        Page 241
        Page 242
        Page 243
        Page 244
        Page 245
        Page 246
        Page 247
        Page 248
    The garland of wild olive
        Page 249
        Page 250
        Page 251
        Page 252
        Page 253
        Page 254
        Page 255
        Page 256
        Page 257
        Page 258
        Page 259
        Page 260
        Page 261
        Page 262
        Page 263
        Page 264
        Page 265
        Page 266
        Page 267
        Page 268
        Page 269
        Page 270
        Page 271
        Page 272
        Page 273
    Back Matter
        Page 274
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
    Spine
        Spine
Full Text












































The Baldwin Library
m (mB uof
IPkwaia























UNTOLD TALES OF THE PAST































BY THE SAME AUTHOR.


IN VARYING MOODS.
TWELFTH EDITION.
Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.


HILDA STRAFFORD
AND THE REMITTANCE MAN.
ELEVENTH EDITION.
Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d.


WILLIAM BLACKWOOD & SONS
EDINBURGH AND LONDON







%d4G Ant-.A-.I 4 't4.4-











/"
N


FroafspiscX.


" Sigurd the Dauntless."











Untold Tales of the Past



BY

BEATRICE HARRADEN
AUTHOR OF
SHIPS THAT PASS IN THE NIGHT"


With Drawings by

H. R. MILLER














WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS
EDINBURGH AND LONDON
1897


















Contents


CHAPTER PAGE
I THE BRAVEST OF THE VIKINGS I

II THE GOLDSMITH'S APPRENTICE 25

III JOAN OF ARC AND LITTLE PIERRE 53

IV WILLIAM OF VYKEHAM'S WORKMAN 79

V How MASTER CAXTON SHOWED TEMPER 103

VI THE SUNBEAM OF THE TOWER 125

VII THE VESTAL VIRGINS 147

VIII How LIVIA WON THE BROOCH 171

IX THE EVE OF C/ESAR'S "'TRIUMPH" 195

X How PHIDIAS HELPED THE IMAGE-MAKER 213

XI A TRUE SPARTAN HEART 233

XII THE GARLAND OF MTILD OLIVE 249




















List of Illustrations


"Sigurd the Dauntless"
" I cannot bear to be left behind "
"And Sigurd started up"
" Gave him his sword "
"Boy-Viking who was taken prisoner"
"A rare blow on the head"
"Just to help finish the goblet" .
"Bid the archers shoot"
" Nicholas knelt before King Edward"
"News of Jeannette's great doings"
"Jeannette was ever a strange girl"
"Would fain have called aloud"
Death of Joan of Arc .
"The good bishop .
"My name is Stephen"
"Bore Stephen on his horse"
"Well, Stephen was weary"
"I am willing to pay for the dinner-plates"
"Thou canst not mend the plates"
"' Calm!' he cried, 'calm !" .


PAGE
Frontisfiece
7
14
18
22
28

35
46
50
S 56
59
71
S 76
82
87
91
95
io6
Ilr
S II9










List of Illustrations


"I am in such trouble"
"Tend the sacred fire"
" He was arrested" .
" Talking to a young girl"
"You should be glad"
" Some fights between animals"
"With his sword ready for use"
"Standing by the richly-damasked curtain"
"Threw his arms around her neck "
"Saw a young girl"
"Sat down at the bench
"Spoke harshly to poor lone"
"Expect no mercy"
"The defeat of the Spartan army
"Had won the race" .
The wrestlers
"Speaking brave and noble words"
"He won it"
"'I am so proud,' she murmured"


PAGE
I5o

S 153
S 167

S 174
I8o
S 185
189
201

207
2 16
S 223
S 236
S 239
S 245
S 252
257
261
S 265
S 271
























I

THE BRAVEST OF THE VIKINGS












Untold Tales of the Past

I


THE BRAVEST OF THE VIKINGS

PERHAPS you remember that the coast
of Britain was for many years exposed
to terrible invasions by the Danes. They
came over in their great ships, or dragons,
as they called them, laid waste the country,
carried off rich plunder, and put to sea
again. These Norsemen, or Vikings, as we
like better to name them, were nothing
more nor less than hardy sea-robbers, who
knew no fear, and who were ready for any
adventure by which they might gain fame
and fortune. The more daring they were,







Untold Tales of the Past


the more honoured thf-v became; for these
old Sc.ondir liin --our aniacstis, mark
you--1p.i ,'d rntlhir: so much as aco'uL g,-
and hastened .di\\, to place themselves
under il e leadership of a man whose valour
was -','. Ci. This love of c-'ir.~'i.2. has been
handed down to us as our own heirloom,
and we .'' honour the brave ones of -"h-
.:.r.i.', o.u. i,.. k c-. our notions about
true .'..,gi are greater and nobler it;..:-
the V C-t. .' idea.
But there is one i.; which we have
inherited 'l. ,the .,. and which
,i.;, r time nor circumstance '. ever
altered, and i.;. is our glorious love of
FtP.'_..-..' %.1 a ...r, as the ocean i -! over
which the VA"'.' :...-... rode so :-ar-


AAii i..i aot t ,
: !!ui J Iii' j -2 i A.L.j .. ...
Z -'-1fsv
: .,'..u~, % ,..,i ..1,,, l M ,r.,_ ,]i







The Bravest of the Vikings

together with his j-1.:'r-, in the B:. of
Tredalund. He was .A:] Si.i-l the
D.auiLtl-l-.-. and men were proud to take
service :Jul-. him, and he was known to
be a faithful and generous-hearted master.
Ev.- rv y-Air he led his warriors on some
*Liar:.g e.txp. tJt!.r., and this ....i : .-prir'.
he had made up his mind to invade the
.-:i--th coast of the HI.;i-;l'_J-. and to conquer
E-tZrt, who was Kui.'.. of Wessex.
It was the .-:n.2,_ g Tlfoj-"r his "-p i.:t.
and all his i' :.---', were *_ :.r: -- together
in the great hal, f-::.-itr.; and .i-!:i.
Sizu.rd and his -'.'- t-h '.': rift L---
E''_;:i-'.:r.. sat on a raised bench on the
north ;iL:e of the hall Seats and :.--. for
the warriors were 2.,!m-l J. :-TI r-- -.n:-1
of cr. hall on -it_.-: side *-f -: r ,.
Em:t man had his own a:i":'"il .-_ -: f. and
on the v---. ,: r -.t1 him he had ':.,Fd I. .
3







Untold Tales of the Past


burnished shield, and his sword, his spear,
his great battle-axe, and his chain-armour.
Sigurd looked around him, and his heart
glowed with pride. He turned to the Lady
Bergthora, and whispered:
No man can boast of braver champions
than these. I am well content to be their
leader."
Then he stood up to speak to them: a
splendid warrior presence. His flaxen hair
streamed over his shoulders; he wore a blue
tunic edged with gold, which reached below
his knees; his legs were covered with linen
bound with cross garterings; his cap was
blue, encircled by a broad band of gold, and
decorated with two splendid eagle's wings;
he carried his sword in a richly gemmed
belt; his arms were covered with large gold
bracelets; he was tall and strong, and his
voice rang lustily through the hall.
4








The Bravest of the Vikings


Comrades," he cried, as he raised to
his lips a horn of mead, I drink success
to our voyage, for to-morrow we turn our
dragons' heads towards the coasts of Britain.
We shall return rich in spoil, and in what
is dearer than spoil -fame. I want you
to know that I am proud to be your chief-
tain, for never had chieftain braver warriors
than I have. Let the ocean waves dash over
our decks, let the storm clouds lour over our
heads; we will laugh at the storm clouds,
and we will laugh at the ocean waves, for
we have always conquered them and we will
conquer them again."
Ay," shouted the warriors, as they sprang
to their feet, "and we will conquer them
again."
We shall come back," continued the
chieftain, "and the Lady Bergthora shall
give us the rewards of valour, golden rings







Untold Tales of the Past


and jewelled words of praise. We shall tell
her that we have met our foes openly and
fairly, and that we have dealt no secret,
treacherous blows; and she will know that
we have spoken truly, for the Viking scorns
low deceit. Is there any one here who has
any boon to ask of me? Let him speak
fearlessly, for I am in the mood to grant
requests."
Then a young boy, who had been listen-
ing eagerly, came forward, knelt before
Sigurd, and kissed his hand. This was
young Frithiof, one of the Lady Bergthora's
kinsmen: a gallant boy, full of daring and
courage, beloved of the warriors. He was
clothed very much like Sigurd himself,
though without the costly ornaments which
marked the chieftain's rank. As he knelt
and bowed his head, his fair hair fell
over his breast -a richer gold than any
6








The Bravest of the Vikings













c --








SI cannot bear to be left behind."

ornament fashioned by the Viking's gold-
smith.
Cousin, I have a boon to ask," he said
excitedly. Let me go with you to-morrow.
I cannot bear to be left behind. Last year,







Untold Tales of the Past


when the ships left the bay, I watched them
until they were out of sight. I saw the
shields gleaming in the sunshine. I longed
to be on deck. I know I am only a boy,
but there is strength in me. Look at my
arm, cousin it is strong, is n't it ? You
think it would tire, but indeed it never
would. It would fight for you and with
you; and I am not afraid to die, for have
you not always said that the Vikings do
not fear death; and I am of true Viking
blood, am I not?"
That he is," murmured some of the war-
riors, looking at the boy kindly.
"Let me go with you, cousin," pleaded
Frithiof. "It seems to take such a long
time to become a grown man."
Sigurd put his hand on the boy's head.
"Wait another year, Frithiof," he said
gently. "You are but a mere lad yet -
8








The Bravest of the Vikings

some few months off thirteen, isn't it? I
do not doubt your courage, Frithiof, and the
strength of your arm; but a year will make
it stronger still; be patient a few weeks
longer. I believe in you, *Frithiof, and
know that you will do great deeds worthy
of your Viking name, which all Vikings
honour. But the time is not yet ripe, and
I am unwilling to let you go this year.
And then, too, my warriors are all proven
men, and it would not be seemly that you,
an untried youth, should take your place
amongst them. It is not enough to inherit
a great name: one must earn a great name
for oneself."
Let him come with us," said one of the
Vikings, stepping forward. We are will-
ing that he, boy as he is, should be one of
our number."
But Sigurd shook his head.







Untold Tales of the Past


Not so, Gudrun," he answered. "I
must not be unjust. I would not grant this
favour to the son of any follower of mine,
and therefore I must not to my own kins-
man. And Frithiof would not wish it, now
that he understands."
"No, I would not wish it," said Frithiof,
sadly. But perhaps before next year comes,
I shall be found worthy."
"I am sure you will," said Sigurd, as he
took the boy's hands in his own. And
we shall all be proud of you-ay, and jeal-
ous of you too, Frithiof. And you will be
chieftain, and lead us into every kind of
danger, and we shall come out victorious.
Meanwhile, in our absence, help to guard
the lives of those who are dear to us; for
sometimes foes are nearer at hand than we
think."
At that moment one of the servants from







The Bravest of the Vikings

the farther end of the hall came to say that
a traveller in distress begged to be admitted
for a night's shelter. The Vikings were
noted for their hospitality, and the stranger
was welcomed without further question. He
sat amongst the servants, and did justice to
the food which was immediately handed to
him. He seemed overcome with fatigue, and
did not speak. The Lady Bergthora sent
Frithiof to welcome him, and to offer him
a horn of mead.
You'll drink to our gallant chieftain? "
said young Frithiof, as he stood by the
stranger's side.
"Ay, that I will," answered the guest; but
there was a curious smile on his face as he
spoke those words; and Frithiof, looking at
him, instinctively distrusted him.
He told this to the old Viking Gudrun,
and got a hearty laugh for his pains.
II







Untold Tales of the Past


"Bless the boy! said Gudrun, smiling;
and, turning to one of his comrades, he said
that Frithiof had a sharp eye and a sharp
wit, sharper than Gudrun's sword and
that was saying a good deal, as every one
knew, especially those who had the mis-
fortune to receive it right through their
bodies.
Well, the night wore on, and the warriors,
according to their custom, slept in the hall.
They had feasted heavily, and most of them
snored heavily. But Frithiof could not
sleep: he was thinking all the time how he
should love to go away on the morrow and
take his place amongst Sigurd's warriors,
and show them that his arm was strong and
his heart was fearless. He remembered how
desolate he felt last year when he watched
the ships out of sight, and then came back
to the hall and looked in vain for the bur-
12


























I


"And Sigurd started up."







The Bravest of the Vikings

nished shields and the swords which but the
evening before had hung on the walls: each
shield, each sword, over each man's seat.
Frithiof knew that he should feel still more
desolate this time; but he was determined
to do some deed in Sigurd's absence so that
in the next spring he might not be thought
unworthy to fight by Sigurd's side.
It must be some great deed," he said to
himself -" something greater than killing
a bear and earning the right to have the
skin stretched over my shield. What can
it be, I wonder?"
Just then Frithiof looked up, and saw a
figure creeping stealthily towards that part
of the hall where Sigurd rested. It was
the stranger! Frithiof recalled his ill-fa-
voured features, and was seized with anx-
ious suspicion.
As the stranger came near him, he closed
15







Untold Tales of the Past


his eyes and feigned sleep; but he knew
that the man bent over him, as though to
satisfy himself that no watchful eye marked
his movements. Then he passed on. He
held in his right hand a knife. Frithiof saw
it glisten -in the glow of the firelight, and
knew that treachery was in the air. He
took Gudrun's sword, and stole after the
crouching figure. His heart beat wildly
when he realized that the man was making
for Sigurd's bench. The stranger raised
the knife, and was just about to attack the
sleeping chieftain when he himself fell back,
uttering a fearful cry; for Frithiof, coming
up just in time, had thrust Gudrun's sharp
sword into the stranger's side, and thus,
by his timely aid, had saved Sigurd's
life.
"Help! help!" he cried. Treachery!"
And Sigurd and all the warriors started
16














































" Gave him his sword."







The Bravest of the Vikings

up, and found Frithiof standing by the chief-
tain's bench, and the stranger lifeless on the
ground, the knife firmly clasped in his right
hand. And they recognized him to be
Sigurd's bitterest foe.
Then a ringing cheer sounded through the
great hall a ringing cheer for Frithiof,
who had known how to defend the chief-
tain's life and kill his deadliest enemy; and
great as the honour was, not one of those
Vikings would have wished to take it from
the boy, who had proved himself a man.
They crowded round him, and old Gudrun
nearly wept with joy and pride.
He has done his great deed," they cried.
"What deed could be greater than this?
We are proud to have him amongst us. He
must go with us on the morrow. He must
hang his shield on the bulwarks of the
dragon-ship. The Lady Bergthora must
19








Untold Tales of the Past


give him his sword, for he has earned it
right well."
"Ay, that he has!" cried Sigurd, as he
drew the boy near to him. He shall go with
us on the morrow, and fight by my side;
and he shall be called the Bravest of the
Vikings."
So the next morning the Lady Bergthora
gave him his sword in the presence of all
Sigurd's followers, and she bade him go
forth into the world and win fame and
fortune.
Guard my lord from all evils, Frithiof,"
she whispered, as her hand rested on his fair
head, and bring him safely home to me."
And young Frithiof swore by his sword.
Two hours later, the ships, six in number,
left the Bay of Tredalund. They were long
vessels of beautiful proportions, carved into
the head and tail of dragons. Each one
20
















A


" Boy-Viking who was taken prisoner."


B


67








The Bravest of the Vikings

carried thirty-two oars. According to the
Viking custom, the warriors' shields were
fastened on the bulwarks, and the sun, shin-
ing brightly, made the ships' sides to look
like glistening gold.
As for young Frithiof, he stood on the
deck of the chieftain's dragon, and mingled
his voice with the ringing cheers of the
Vikings, who cried:
Lords of the sea are we -kings of the
ocean waves! "
And this was how Frithiof went on his
first Viking voyage. We know nothing
more of him; but we can be sure that he
bore himself bravely, and was worthy to be
amongst Sigurd's followers. Stay. In the
old chronicles of Wessex there is a short
account of a terrible Viking invasion in the
reign of King Egbert; and we learn that
there was a certain boy-Viking who was
2.3








Untold Tales of the Past

taken prisoner. But the king loved him
for his courage, and spared him because of
his youth, aid set him free.
I cannot help thinking that this boy must
have been our Frithiof.























II

THE GOLDSMITH'S APPRENTICE



























































A rare blow on the ead.


"A rare blow on the head."


T~ II
i
3\















THE GOLDSMITH'S APPRENTICE

MASTER MAXWELL was reputed to
be one of the wealthiest and cleverest
goldsmiths living in Cheapside; and indeed,
there was no one to deny the excellence of
his goods, which were exposed for sale on
stalls, very much like those used to this day
at country fairs. Those old-world shops,
with their long painted signs swinging to
the touch of the wind, must surely have
looked very quaint; and I think, too, that
the shopkeepers had a quaint way of selling,
for they stationed their apprentices outside,
and the apprentices yelled at the top of their
lusty voices to the passers-by, What d'ye
29







Untold Tales of the Past


lack? What d' ye lack? at the same time
holding up some article which they thought
might perhaps induce the stranger to become
a buyer.
"This is what you lack, master!" they
cried; "a goblet, none finer in the kingdom.
A bodkin of silver, gentle lady; a looking-
glass, costly beyond all words! A clock,
noble sir, to grace any palace what d' ye
lack, what d' ye lack ? "
Sometimes when the passers-by refused
the tempting offers, the apprentices, who
were a reckless set of beings, jeered at them,
and if their jeers were resented by any act of
violence, why, then Cheapside swarmed with
apprentices, who had armed themselves with
their clubs, and had rushed out of every shop
eager to join the skirmish. Sometimes they
all combined and fought with strangers, and
at other times, on the slightest provocation,
30







The Goldsmith's Apprentice

they fought with each other,- the goldsmiths,
for instance, attacking the saddlers, or the
fishmongers attacking the snippers of cloth.
I suppose this gave rise to the old song -

"Up then rose the 'prentices all,
Living in London, both proper and tall."

Well, Master Maxwell's apprentice, Nicho-
las Aldewyn, was certainly one of the most
turbulent creatures in the world, and Master
Maxwell would long since have sent him
away, but that he was a skilful workman in
gold and silver, and could fashion a ring or
a goblet better than most hands could man-
age; and then, too, little Mistress Margaret,
Master Maxwell's grandchild, a little dainty
girl of nine years old, loved the great rough
Nicholas, and that was equal to a hundred
reasons for his remaining. She sat by his
side in the workshop, watching him chasing







Untold Tales of the Past


the golden vessels for King Edward the
Third's sideboard. His hand, so strong to
beat out brass shapes, so strong to wield the
club, touched her little hands gently; his
voice, gruff enough at other times, and loud
enough to reach to the other side of Temple
Bar, fell into natural softness when he spoke
to little Mistress Margaret.
So, for the sake of his skill and for the
sake of Mistress Margaret, Master Maxwell
bore with his troublesome apprentice, though
he told him he was a sad dog, and he would
one day have to be turned off to try
his fortune and his impudence elsewhere.
Nicholas Aldewyn smiled, for he had often
heard that threat, and it had never yet come
true.
Mistress Margaret could not understand
why Nicholas loved to rush off to fight, and
she listened in amazement to his stories about







The Goldsmith's Apprentice

the desperate riots in which he took an active
part.
I hit one fellow a rare blow on the head,"
he told her in triumph; "you should have
seen him then, little mistress--he was n't
much to boast of, I can tell ye!"
Oh, Nicholas, don't, don't!" she pleaded;
"you do such terrible things. I'm quite
frightened of you when I see that wicked old
club in your hand. You don't seem like my
Nicholas then. And grandfather says you'll
get into trouble one day."
Not I! laughed Nicholas, as he looked
up from his work. And as for the club, it's
a good old club, the 'prentices' trusty friend.
And let me tell ye, little mistress, 'tis of no
use to hide it away, for Nicholas will find it
anywhere, that he will! "
Oh, I thought you would never find it
when I hid it last week," she answered.
3 33







Untold Tales of the Past


" And I thought you would forget all about
fighting if you did not see it. I can't think
why you want to fight when you can work so
beautifully, Nicholas. No one can work as
well as you."
Ay, ay, you 're right there," said Nicholas,
laughing. What d' ye think of this for a
goblet? I am proud of it; and his Majesty
the King must needs be proud of it too. But
there, I must not gossip, for it is not quite
done, and Master Maxwell told me it must
be finished this very morning. You '11 pass
me yonder tool, little mistress; thank ye
kindly. And may be you'll kiss rough old
Nicholas, just to help finish the goblet! "
Of course I will," she said, as she put up
her little face, which Nicholas kissed, having
carefully rubbed his mouth with the corner
of his apron.
"That's a little dear," he said. "And
34












































"Just to help finish the goblet.
"Just to help finish the goblet."







The Goldsmith's Apprentice

hark ye, I'11 think twice before I take up the
club, and that's more than I 'd do for most
folk."
"Good old Nicholas!" she cried, patting
his great hand. "Then I sha'n't have to
hide it, shall I?"
She left him to his work, and went into
Master Maxwell's private apartment at the
back of the shop, where she found him busy
over his accounts, and surrounded by little
bags of gold. .He wore a long black velvet
gown, with a massive gold chain about his
neck, and he had the appearance of being a
wealthy citizen, the decoration on his coat
testifying that he was a prominent member
of the Worshipful Guild of Goldsmiths.
Little Mistress Margaret was dressed in a
dark purple skirt, and a bodice of the same
colour, with long hanging sleeves according
to the fashion of those times; and a finely
37







Untold Tales of the Past


chased clasp, designed by Master Maxwell
himself, fastened the neck of her dress.
"What a lot of money !" she said, bending
over her grandfather, and fondling his white
hair. "What shall you do with it all? "
It is all for you, child," he said gently, as
he drew her near to him. This money, and
more added thereto, shall go for your dower
- a brave dower. No one shall say here-
after that the rich goldsmith of Cheapside
did not take thought for his little grand-
child. You shall be rich and happy, Mistress
Margaret."
Nicholas says rich folk are not always
happy, you know," answered the child,
thoughtfully.
Nicholas tells you a great deal of non-
sense," replied Master Maxwell, a little
sharply; "he has a rattling tongue. You
must not heed him."








The Goldsmith's Apprentice


"Oh, but he tells me such wonderful
things," she answered enthusiastically; and
I am sure you would like to hear him speak
about the gold and the silver and the brass
fairies. He says he has to be ever so careful
not to squash any fairies when he is beat-
ing out the metal shapes. Have you ever
squashed any fairies? I am sure Nicholas
must be clever, and he is good, is n't he?
And what do you think, he has half promised
not to rush out fighting. I can't imagine
why he likes to knock people down can
you, grandfather? "
He is a wild rascal," said Master Max-
well, and he will come to grief one of these
days that he will."
He says it is just splendid to knock a
man down," continued little Mistress Mar-
garet, smiling in spite of herself.
"Ah, he is a rogue of an apprentice,"
39








Untold Tales of the Past


sighed Master Maxwell. But the lad is
cheery, with it all, and good-natured enough;
and by my faith, it's a grand thing to have a
cheery heart. It carries one bravely through
life. But hark ye, little mistress, methinks
you love that great bear of an apprentice
better than your old grandfather."
No, no," she cried eagerly, not that!"
And Master Maxwell was well satisfied,
knowing that she loved him dearly. As for
himself, he valued -none of his rich posses-
sions so highly as this little Margaret, who
seemed to be there to teach him that a gentle
human life is worth more than all the gold
and all the jewels in the world a true and
beautiful lesson to learn, true and beautiful
for every country and every century.
Master Maxwell was just putting away his
money, when he heard a terrific noise in
the street, and the well-known cry arose of
40








The Goldsmith's Apprentice

"Clubs -- 'prentices 'prentices! He has-
tened into his shop and found that Nicholas
Aldewyn had left his work to join the riot;
indeed, he could see him rushing down
Cheapside, followed by scores of apprentices,
who seemed to start up everywhere; all of
them of course armed with clubs, which was
the only weapon considered suitable for their
position.
There he goes," said Master Maxwell in
despair, and the goblet is not finished for
his Majesty, who said something about
coming to-day. Alack that lad will be
the ruin of me! Rogue! At the first
sound off he rushes. 'Tis a creature good .
for nothing. What am I to say if his
Majesty comes and asks for the goblet?
Oh, that knave of an apprentice; he has
been a troublesome fellow ever since he
entered my door; and he knew quite well







Untold Tales of the Past


that the goblet was to be finished this
morning! "
"I wish I could finish it," said little Mis-
tress Margaret, mournfully. She was quite
disappointed that Nicholas had not kept
his promise to her.
But it was no use lamenting, for Nicholas
had gone, and the goblet would have to wait
for his return, whenever that might be.
Master Maxwell turned from his shop door,
and bade little Margaret follow him into his
private apartment, but she caught hold of
his sleeve and cried:
"The King! the King!"
And sure enough it was his Majesty Ed-
ward the Third who came riding in state
down Cheapside, and now drew up in front
of Master Maxwell's shop. That was a
great honour for the goldsmith, and he knelt
down and humbly bade the King welcome,
42








The Goldsmith's Apprentice

though, between ourselves, he wished him
several leagues away because of that unfin-
ished goblet!
"May it please your Majesty to state your
wishes? said Master Maxwell, when the
King, who had ordered his followers to wait
outside, entered the goldsmith's shop.
The goblet, worthy goldsmith," answered
the King. "I have a wish that it should
grace my board to-night, so that I may drink
her Majesty's health in ruby wine, poured
generously into that very cup. Such is my
fancy."
Master Maxwell looked distressed.
It is not quite perfect," he answered
nervously, for it must be nervous work, you
know, displeasing a sovereign, -" but when
my rogue of an apprentice comes back, he
shall finish it forthwith. See, ,noble sire, it
is cunningly wrought and tastefully chased."
43







Untold Tales of the Past


"And where is your rogue of an appren-
tice? asked the King, frowning. When
the King wishes a thing done, it must be
done. Have you not learnt that, worthy
goldsmith ?"
"So please your Highness, my apprentice
has rushed off fighting," pleaded Master
Maxwell. What can a poor goldsmith do
when his apprentices refuse to bide in the
shop ? "
He looked so forlorn that Edward, who
was good-natured enough in his way, and
especially devoted to the Worshipful Com-
pany of Goldsmiths, to whom he had
granted a charter, and whom he called his
" beloved goldsmiths," laughed and told Mas-
ter Maxwell to have no fear, for, after all,
one day was as well as another, and
when it pleased his Highness the appren-
tice to finish the goblet, it would please
44







The Goldsmith's Apprentice

his Highness the King to drink from the
goblet!
Master Maxwell was just congratulating
himself on the King's graciousness, when
cries of a riotous mob coming up Cheapside
towards the goldsmith's shop attracted Ed-
ward's attention.
It is the apprentices returning," explained
Master Maxwell.
By my crown! exclaimed Edward, I '11
not have my streets upset by these rogues !
Ho! ho! he cried to his attendants, "bid
the archers shoot and disperse these rascals,
and bring me the ringleaders, that they
may hear their punishment from me, their
king."
Little Mistress Margaret crept from her
hiding-place. She forgo all about the King's
presence. Her hands were clasped eagerly
together, and her eyes looked tearful.
45







Untold Tales of the Past


" Bid the archers shoot."


I am sure Nicholas will be there," she
said, and the King will be so angry with
him."
Edward turned towards the child.
And who is Nicholas? he asked kindly.
46







The Goldsmith's Apprentice

"And why will the King be angry with
him? "
Because he is such a troublesome appren-
tice," she answered, and because he has
not finished the goblet. But indeed I am
sure you could not help liking him. And,
do you know, he says he must fight, and
that even kings love to fight. Please, please,
not to be angry with Nicholas."
At that moment the archers came up,
having captured several of the most turbu-
lent apprentices.
This is the ringleader, your Highness,"
they all cried. And of course it was Nicholas
Aldewyn!
Two archers held him by the collar; he
looked hot and tired, and his clothes were
torn and covered with dust. He had lost
his cap, and his leather belt was unfastened,
and his jacket, with its puffed sleeves, was
47







Untold Tales of the Past


all awry. He certainly did not present a
very peaceable appearance. Little Mistress
Margaret's heart sank within her.
Oh Nicholas, Nicholas she said, and
in his great hand she put her own. She
was not afraid of the archers, nor the King,
nor any of his attendants.
But the King smiled, first at the appren-
tice, and then at the little girl, who looked
so distressed for him.
"Well, Sir Apprentice," he said, gazing
at his unruly subject, I 've been told not
to be angry with Nicholas. That is what the
little lady says. Let him loose, archers.
Now, man, listen to your king. Can't you
be a peaceable citizen, worthy of our great
City ? What do these riots mean? If there
is any fighting to be done, we soldiers can
fight; but you workmen have something bet-
ter to do -golden goblets to finish, for
48







The Goldsmith's Apprentice

instance. Well, then, Sir Apprentice, finish
your golden goblet, and when I have sipped
from it I '11 tell you whether I pardon you.
Good-morrow, worthy goldsmith, and good-
morrow, little mistress. And for your sake,
child, I '11 try not to be angry with Nicholas,
though indeed he is a knave of an
apprentice."
But Nicholas knelt before King Edward.
I '11 remember the King's words," he said,
"and will yet live to be a worthy citizen."
When Edward had passed out of the shop
Nicholas went back to his work, and never
spoke until the beautiful goblet was finished.
Then he held it up for little Mistress Mar-
garet to see; and Master Maxwell smiled
approval and said, that though Nicholas
knew how to fight, he knew better how to
work. And Nicholas was proud, for he had
put his best workmanship into that goblet;








Untold Tales of the Past


"Nicholas knelt before King Edward."
and it is a splendid thing to feel one has
really done a good bit of work. And before
the day was over he said to his little friend, -
50







The Goldsmith's Apprentice

Hark ye, I've thrown away my club,
and I'll not look for it. No, I '11 learn to
be a right good citizen. For I tell ye, it
would have gone hard with me but for little
Mistress Margaret."
Now in the history of the Worshipful Com-
pany of Goldsmiths we find the name of a
certain Nicholas Aldewyn, a worthy gold-
smith and a citizen of rare merit. He rose
to great distinction in the company, and
became a warden of the Guild. So, you see,
he kept his word to his king and to little
Mistress Margaret. It is written of him
that he always dealt gently with his appren-
tices, remembering, no doubt, the time when
he himself, snatching up his trusty club,
rushed down old Cheapside, only too eager
to join in a rough fight with the snippers
of cloth, or the saddlers, or the swordmak-
ers, or the joiners of dear old London!
51
























III

JOAN OF ARC AND LITTLE PIERRE















































































" News of Jeannette's great doings."


I -


,fN















JOAN OF ARC AND LITTLE PIERRE

PERHAPS you remember that Dom-
remy, a little village on the borders
of the great woods of the Vosges, was the
home of Joan of Arc.
You have heard about her home life: how
she tended the sheep, and found her pleasure
in wandering through the forest, and listen-
ing to the Song of Nature and learning the
Poem of Nature; and by the Song I mean
the birds, and the breezes, and the winds -
now whispering, now blustering; and by the
Poem I mean the flowers, and the mosses, and
the trees, and the herbs. Joan knew and
loved them all well, and she taught little
57







Untold Tales of the Past


Pierre to love them with an affection almost
as great as her own. Pierre was a son of
one of the neighbours a child of ten, per-
haps, but not strong and sturdy like the
other peasant children. He moved painfully
on crutches, and his little pale face looked
wistfully after the boys and girls who chased
each other merrily in the sweet warm sun-
shine. But, somehow or other, whenever he
felt most sad there was always Joan at hand
to take him in her strong arms, and speak
to him kindly as only she could speak, so
that her companionship was. to him health
and strength and happiness. The peasants
wondered to see them so much together,
and wondered too that Joan, who was gen-
erally so quiet and dreamy, could take
the trouble to be genial with this little
Pierre.
"Ah!" they said amongst themselves,
58






















































































"Jeannette was ever a strange girl."


``







Joan of Arc and Little Pierre

"but Jeannette was ever a strange girl, was
she not? That was what they all called
her Jeannette.
And sometimes the old peasant women
stopped their spinning-wheels and said:
"Do you hear Jeannette and that little
Pierre laughing? Jeannette does not laugh
without him, and he does not laugh without
Jeannette."
Then they went on with their spinning,
whrr -whrr--whrr! as the wheel whirled
round; and Jeannette and Pierre passed on
their way to the woods or the fields, just as
their fancy might please them.
That was a happy time for Pierre. It
seemed to him that he would not change his
lot for that of the strongest child in all
Lorraine. He used to tell Jeannette this,
and then she smiled at him. But one day
she said:







Untold Tales of the Past


Pierre, I shall not always be in Domremy.
Hush! this is my secret, and I intrust it to
you because you love me, little Pierre. No;
I shall not always be here. Beautiful France
needs me, and when she calls me I must
hasten away. For the foes of the land must
be conquered, and the Dauphin must be
crowned at Rheims. Then I can come home
and rest, little Pierre. Does it seem strange
to you that I, a woman, should dream of
doing such work?"
But he answered:
It does not seem strange that you should
do anything grand and strong. You are so
grand and strong yourself--that is what I
always think. But listen, Jeannette. When
the Dauphin is crowned at Rheims, I shall
be there; and you will come home with me.
Will you promise that to me, Jeannette ?"
And she promised.








Joan of Arc and Little Pierre

Meanwhile the war between France and
England raged ruthlessly. To make matters
worse, the Duke of Burgundy had forsaken
France and joined his forces to those of the
English, and Orleans was being besieged by
ten thousand of the allies. The war had
long since reached the borders of Lorraine.
Some of the wounded and outcast passed by
Domremy, and Jeannette, full of pity, nursed
them in their sickness and misery. Now
was the time to help France. She would go
to the court at Chinon, and offer her services
to the Dauphin.
Her own home folk and all the neighbours
thought Jeannette mad, and they entreated
her to stay peacefully at home, and leave
rough warfare to men, and men only. But
she would not be persuaded. Then, think-
ing to influence her, they said:
"What will little Pierre do without you?
63







Untold Tales of the Past


Can you leave him thus cruelly? Speak to
her, child, and bid her stay with those who
love her."
But Pierre answered:
"She must needs go. She has a great
work to do."
And his voice never faltered, and no tears
fell from his eyes when he spoke these words;
for he said to himself:
"I shall see her at Rheims when the
Dauphin is crowned, and she will come home
with me. She has promised."
This thought was his one comfort after she
had left. He crept about slowly and pain-
fully in the woods, where he had been so
happy with Jeannette. Everything there
recalled her to him. He gathered the
flowers, and remembered the names which
Jeannette had given to them. He told to
the birds and the trees the tales Jeannette
64








Joan of Arc and Little Pierre

had told to him-stories of men who had
endured much and sacrificed all for the sake
of king and country and honour; stories of
women who, without a murmur, had yielded
up to the- same cause more than their own
lives--the lives of their dear ones. But
sometimes the old peasant women looked up
from their spinning-wheels, and watched
little Pierre passing by.
The child does not laugh now," they
said; "but he keeps a brave heart; and
Jeannette's mother tells how he sits by her
side and cheers her when she feels sad about
her daughter. That is good and brave of
little Pierre."
Then the spinning-wheels went whrr -
whrr whrr whrr making sad music,
because of the war, you know; because of
beautiful France's troubles; because of the
men who had left their village homes and
5 65








Untold Tales of the Past


might not return; because of Jeannette, who
was in the thick of danger; and, because of
Pierre, who was lonely and anxious.
One day the news came of Jeannette's great
doings, of her courage and her enthusiasm,
and of the deliverance of Orleans, and the de-
spair of the English and the gratitude of the
Dauphin; and the whole of France was talk-
ing of this brave woman, who had come for-
ward to help her country in the hour of need.
The English remained panic-stricken
around Paris, whilst the French army, grow-
ing in numbers, followed Jeannette from
Gien, through Troyes, and thence to Rheims,
where the Dauphin was to be crowned under
the title of Charles the Seventh.
When Jeannette's father heard this he
determined to go to Rheims; and Pierre
pleaded so hard to be taken that no one had
the heart to refuse him, although it seemed
66







Joan of Arc and Little Pierre

an absurd thing that he, who had never been
out of Domremy in his life, should go all the
long distance to Rheims.
The children, in their thoughtless way,
made fun of him.
What! you go to Rheims! you, Pierre,
who cannot run and walk as we can! That
is a good joke!"
But he said:
I am going to fetch Jeannette, you know.
Of course I must go to Rheims."
Perhaps they would not have taken any
notice of his pleading, but that Jeannette's
mother dreamed one night that Jeannette
would never again come home to Domremy
unless she came with little Pierre.
That dream decided the. matter, and the
next day Jeannette's father and two of her
sisters, together with little Pierre, set out for
the city of Rheims.








Untold Tales of the Past


It was a spring morning, and dense crowds
of people from all parts of France had gath-
ered together on the open place in front of
the cathedral at Rheims.
There were peasant folk from distant vil-
lages, and gaily-dressed townsfolk in rich
attire.
Pierre had never before looked on such
crowds. He leaned firmly on his crutch,
eagerly expectant, and silent amidst the
noise of countless voices.
He was dressed, like all the peasants of
that time, in tights made of leather, and in a
loose tunic, which was confined at the waist
by a leather belt; a coarse woollen cape was
fastened to the neck of his tunic. His fair
hair peeped from beneath his round sheep-
skin cap. He was tired after his long journey,
and his little face looked pale.
"Ah!" he kept saying to himself; "how
68








Joan of Arc and Little Pierre

glad I shall be when dear Jeannette passes
by!"
Suddenly a great silence fell on the crowds,
and all eyes were turned to the procession
which was coming slowly towards the cathe-
dral. It was led by a small band of musi-
cians, playing on the instruments then in use
- queer-shaped viols and flutes. These were
followed by a number of children clothed in
white, and holding branches in their hands.
After them came two heralds, and then a
detachment of soldiers, and civil officers in
their gorgeous robes of state, and two mar-
shals with the staff, and the Duke of Bur-
gundy, who was now reconciled to the
Dauphin, and who now carried the sword of
state. Another French nobleman, Dunois,
bore the sceptre, and he was followed by two
noblemen with the crown. Then came a
company of knights of various orders, and
69








Untold Tales of the Past


scores of choir-boys, the two foremost of
whom held the incense vessel. Two bishops
preceded the archbishop.
And it was Jeannette who came next. She
looked magnificent in her white armour a
figure warlike, yet of gentle bearing. She
held in her right hand the great white banner
studded with fleurs-de-lis which she had borne
triumphantly into battle. She was followed
by the king, who rode on a magnificent
charger, beneath a costly canopy carried by
four barons. Courtiers in gay costumes and
soldiers completed the procession.
It was a splendid sight! But there was
only one real figure for little Pierre -that of
Jeannette in her white armour, and with her
great white banner.
When he saw her he would fain have
called aloud her dear name, but the sound
died on his lips. Still, he had seen her; it
70


















































"Would fain have called aloud."







Joan of Arc and Little Pierre

was everything to have seen her. And she
would come home to Domremy, for she had
promised this to him before she had gone to
the war; and all the old happiness would
return with her.
-After the procession had gone by, there
was a rush to the cathedral, and Pierre re-
membered no more. He was borne along by
the crowd lie fell, and the crowd passed
over him and crushed him. When he
opened his eyes, he saw Jeannette bending
over him. She raised him in her arms, as
she had done in the old days. It did not
seem strange to him that he should be with
her. He saw only her; the soldiers and
courtiers standing by and awaiting her
pleasure, and the people hurrying up for
some fresh excitement now that the corona-
tion was over all these were as nothing to
him.








Untold Tales of the Past


"Jeannette," he whispered, "the great
work is over, and you will come home to
Domremy, dear Jeannette home to Dom-
remy as you promised me."
And those were the last words little Pierre
ever spoke, for he died in her arms, one of
his hands resting on her great white banner
which she had carried so bravely.
Ah! little Pierre," she sobbed, I shall
never go home to Domremy now--never
again see the great Vosges woods you and
I loved so well -never again tend the sheep
in the well-known pastures. You came to
fetch me, brave little Pierre: I shall always
remember that."
And you know that Joan of Arc never did
see her home again. Although she felt that
with the coronation of the Dauphin her work
was at an end, they would not let her go
back to her old peasant life, and it was in
74






/___


Death of Joan of Arc.


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Joan of Arc and Little Pierre

vain that she pleaded to be dismissed. Fi-
nally, she fell into the hands of the English,
who looked upon her triumphs as the vic-
tories of witchcraft, and, after a long trial,
she was found guilty and burnt as a witch.
They say that during her long imprison-
ment she was often heard to murmur:
If little Pierre had only lived, we should
have gone home together, and I should have
wandered in the woods, and listened to
Nature's voice as in the old days, and spun
quietly and happily by my mother's side."
Who knows? Perhaps Jeannette was
right.
But hush! I fancy I hear the spinning-
wheels of Domremy. Whrr-whrr-whrr-
whrr! The music of the spinning-wheels is
soft, for it has travelled through many cen-
turies to reach us ; it is soft, but to my ears
it does not sound sad. It sings to me of
77







Untold Tales of the Past


Pierre, who loved Jeannette -well, it need
not be sad for that; it sings of Jeannette,
who loved the fair realm of France and
fought for it; it sings of all brave men and
of all brave women whom we have learnt to
honour, and who make the world nobler for
having lived in the world. I do not think
such music can be sad.























IV

WILLIAM OF WYKEHAM'S WORKMAN


















































" The good bishop."
















WILLIAM OF WYKEHAM'S
WORKMAN

W HEN you go into a beautiful cathe-
dral and look around, do you not
wonder at the patient and loving labour of
those men of old, who knew how to rear a
noble building to the honour of God, giving
the best of their work, the best of their
energy, and the best of their lives? Their
names are unrecorded, it is true, but the
cathedral itself is a record of their enthu-
siasm and their earnestness: a record which
time has not destroyed, and shall not destroy.
Perhaps you have been to the grand old
city of Winchester, and have learnt how
83








Untold Tales of the Past


William of Wykeham, "the Good Bishop,"
as he was called, who lived in the fourteenth
century, enlarged the cathedral and altered
it to its present form, gathering around him
skilful workmen, and inspiring them with
his own zeal and devotion, so that they were
proud and glad to work with him, and came
from all parts to offer their services. I said
we did not know their names; but one name
has been handed down to us, and I want
to tell you about the boy workman, Stephen,
whom William of Wykeham loved, for the
boy's own sake and for the sake of his
skill.
One hot summer's morning in the year
1394, a young peasant boy of about fourteen
years of age trudged on his way to the city
of Winchester. He had journeyed many
miles, and his feet were sore, and his whole
frame was worn out; but even his weariness







William of Wykeham's Workman

had not been able to chase away the eager
look on his face. There was something in
him which could not but interest the passers-
by, and some of them stopped and spoke
kindly to him, and offered him food from
their wallets, and asked him where he was
going, and whence he had come.
"I am going to see William of Wyke-
ham," he answered to all their questions.
And what canst thou be wanting with
William of Wykeham ? asked a sulky old
friar. I tell thee it is no easy matter to
see the good bishop, and thou art but a
peasant lad at the best. William of Wyke-
ham will have nought to do with thee."
"Nay, good brother," sang out the lusty
voice of a ploughman; there is not much
comfort in thy words. Take no heed of
him, my lad; 'tis a mischief-loving friar.
Thy name, child ?"







Untold Tales of the Past


The boy looked up gratefully. His heart
warmed to the ploughman. .
My name is Stephen," he said simply.
"Then take heed, Stephen," said the
ploughman, kindly, take heed of yonder
tavern with the sign of the 'Golden Calf.'
Mark it well, for if thou hast hunger or
thirst, stop there and ask for the ploughman
Peter, and he'll not fail thee. For I tell
thee, lad, that it's a right good thing to
have a friend in need. And now God
speed thee on thy way to William of Wyke-
ham."
And he went off singing some cheery mel-
ody, leaving Stephen all the better for his
kind words and his encouraging manner.
He thought he should not soon forget the
ploughman; and as he walked on alone he
was so busy thinking that he did not hear the
sound of horses' hoofs, until a loud shout
86












































" My name is Stephen."







William of Wykeham's Workman

woke him from his dreams, and looking up,
he saw a knight on a richly caparisoned
horse.
"Why, thou art a dreamer," said the
knight. I all but knocked thee down. I
shouted to thee, too. Where were thy
thoughts ?"
I was thinking of William of Wykeham,"
the boy answered, "and of the ploughman
Peter."
"That is a strange mixture," laughed the
knight. Well, since I nearly threw thee
down, I must needs make amends by carry-
ing thee a few paces, for thou art tired out
with thy walking and thy dreaming."
And the knight, being kind and chival-
rous, as became his knighthood, bore Stephen
on his horse until they came just outside
the city, and then he rode away, and the
child passed on, full of courage and gratitude.




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