THE

THE MAN WHO HERE walked one fair day across the market square of Altdorf, in Switzerland, as fine a looking man as one could wish to see. Tall and straight, broad and shapely, with ruddy, bearded face and proudly-held head, this man of the mountains strode with clean, swinging stride across the square, with a look of bright happiness in his eyes, and a cheerful word of greeting for his friends. Many turned to say, "There goes William Tell, the crossbowman of Bürglen."

This man, who was said to be the finest crossbowman in Switzerland, and the best handler of a boat on the stormswept lake of Uri, lived quietly in a mountain cottage, with a wife who shared every thought of his heart, and children for whom it was his pleasure and delight to work. He hunted deer in the mountains, and went a-fishing on the lake. His children never lacked good food and decent clothing. His home was trim and neat. There was no family in that district more firmly established in peace and contentment.

Tell had sold the pack of deerskins which he had brought with him to Altdorf. He was on his way now to buy winter clothing of warm wool for his children. He had money, enough and to spare, and he was in a mood of great happiness. In an hour or more he would be singing a song on the road to his mountain home. Suddenly he felt his arm seized, and found himself in the grip of an Austrian soldier. In another instant he was surrounded. The soldier who had seized his arm pointed to a pole with ducal cap on the top. "It is death not to bow to that cap, and you know it!" said the soldier.

A silence fell upon the whole square. People left off their trading and crowded round the group. A thing greater

than trade was at stake now-a man's freedom, a nation's liberty. William Tell had flushed a deeper red. He brought his eyes from the cap on the pole to the soldier's face. I have done nothing unlawful," he said slowly.

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FACED A TYRANT

to any empty cloak or a pair of hose?" At this there came from behind the soldiers the figure of the Governor of the district, the tyrant Gessler. It was this Gessler who, set over the once free Swiss by their conqueror and oppressor, the Duke of Austria, had trodder liberty under foot, had murdered and imprisoned all who stood against him, and, as a last barbarity, had declared that everyone who did not do homage to the badge of Austrian rule set up on the pole in their marketplace should die. William Tell faced the Governor. He feared no man. No one could break his proud spirit. In his mountain he had brooded upon the shame of the slavery which enchained his country, and had already spoken with his friends of resistance. Never, never, would he do homage to the hated badge of the tyrant's mastery.

"So you would make a jest of the sign of majesty?" asked the Governor, approaching him, while the soldiers saluted. At that moment there came from the crowd a child's cry of "Father! Father!" The crowd turned about, opened out, and presently William Tell's little son, who had come without leave to the fair, was rushing to his father. The Governor caught the boy's arm. "Is this the brave traitor's son ?" he asked. "Hurt him not," said Tell. He is firstborn."

my

Oh, I won't hurt him!" answered the terrible Gessler. "If any harm should come to him, it will not be by me, but by you." A horrible smile lighted his eyes. Here," said he to a soldier, "take the boy and tie him to the trunk of that linden-tree over there, and place an apple on his head."

What is this for ?" demanded Tell. "I am told, that you are called the crossbowman of Bürglen," replied the Governor, "and I should like you to give me an exhibition of your skill. Your life is forfeit. But I am in a merciful mood; I will give you a chance of redeeming it. Come, listen to me. If at this distance you can shoot an arrow so as to split the apple on the curls of your firstborn, I will let you go free. If notif you miss the apple, or kill your child -I will execute you, here and now."

You have insulted the majesty of the Duke!" said the soldier.

William Tell kept a steady eye. Why," said he, "should a man show more reverence to an empty cap than

trembling. "How can a man who loves his son aim with a steady hand an inch above his temples? Ah, look at the child! My lord, look at him! He is no kin of yours; you know nothing of the pretty ways by which he has climbed into a father's heart, the innocence of his eyes, the beauty of his face! Am I to risk that life?" Gessler laughed brutally. you either shoot an arrow, or die." "Then I will die."

"Well,

And first your child shall have his neck wrung before your eyes!"

A blinding passion of indignation overswept the noble soul of the mountaineer. Give me the bow," he said. One thing in mercy I ask. Let the child's face be turned away from me. Let me not see his eyes fixed upon me.'

A way was cleared between father and son. A dense multitude stood on either side. The boy, with his face to the tree, bound by ropes to its trunk, felt the apple weigh like lead upon his head. A dreadful silence fell upon the market square. William Tell chose two arrows. One he thrust in his girdle; one he fitted to his bow-string. Then for a moment he stood, a little bowed of shoulder, with his eyes downward; he was praying. You might have heard a leaf fall, so still was the place. Then Tell raised his head; his eyes were steady; his hands had become still; his face was like iron. He brought the crossbow to his shoulder and laid his eye to the feather of the shaft. Twang! The arrow shot forward, and, as it were at the same moment, buried itself deep in the tree. The apple fell in equal parts on either side of the boy's head. A roar of heering went up to heaven, and Gessler turned to Tell.

"A good shot, traitor!" he said cruelly. "But tell me, for what reason did you take two arrows?"

Tell laid his hands upon the arrow in his girdle. "If the first arrow had hurt my child," he said, "this one by now would be through your heart!

Oh! So I run in danger of my life?" said the Governor. "But I will keep the pledge I gave you. You shall not die. I will give you your life. But the rest of that life you will spend in the dungeons of my castle, and your bowstring will not then be a danger to me." At this Tell was seized again, and rushed by the soldiers through the scowling mob to the quay, where the Governor's ship was moored. But it chanced that as the ship crossed the lake of Uri a storm arose, savage and wild, and it seemed as if everyone would be drowned. The Austrians could not manage the vessel, and began to abandon hope of saving her. In their panic they remembered that Tell was reputed the best handler of ships in that part of the world, and spoke to the Governor. Loose him, and let him take the helm," said Gessler. Tell got the vessel to right herself, and set her head for the opposite coast. But he was now thinking, not of Gessler and the Austrian soldiers, but of freedom-his own freedom, and the freedom of Switzerland. He would get free, and save his country.

He brought the ship close to a rock that jutted out from the coast, and then, as it shot past, he sprang suddenly upon the rock, and left the Austrians to save themselves. Swift of foot, he scaled the rocks, climbed the cliff, and made his way across the mountains to a place on the road, which Gessler, if he saved himself, would have to pass. Here he lay concealed amongst the bushes, with an arrow fitted to his bow-string, his heart set on delivering Switzerland from the tyrant. As he waited, darkness fell among the mountains. Presently there came to him the tramp of feet. And if I live to return to Altdorf," Gessler was saying, "I swear I will destroy the whole brood of this traitor Tell, mother and children, all in the same hour!

66

"You shall never return!" said Tell to himself. And, as the soldiers went marching on, he let fly the arrow, and Gessler dropped dead in the dust.

William Tell inspired the rising of the Swiss people, which led to the overthrow of the Austrians and made Switzerland a free country.

They would have made him king, but he shook his head, and went back to his home among the mountains, which was more to him than many palaces.

THE CORNFLOWER

UEEN LOUISA OF PRUSSIA was a

Q brave, beautiful lady. The great

Emperor Napoleon came and conquered her country, and oppressed her people, and she struggled bravely against him.

At last, however, her chief city, Berlin, was captured by the enemy, and she barely managed to escape with her little children, and hid in a cornfield. Her children were frightened, and began to cry, and Queen Louisa was afraid that someone might hear them. So she took some of the blue cornflowers and twined the blossoms into wreaths and crowns for them, and in this way made the children forget their sorrow.

One of her children was named Wilhelm, and he afterwards conquered Napoleon's nephew, and was made the first German Emperor, and he took as his emblem the blue cornflower. Now

all the German people wear it on festival days, as the emblem of German unity, and as a souvenir of their brave Queen Louisa of Prussia.

ONE

THE ENCHANTED THORN

NE of the thorn-trees at Newland's Corner, on the Surrey downs, is enchanted. Some maidens who danced around it one summer night were carried off by the fairies and never seen again. But a few years ago two shepherd lads were sitting there, when the thorns were white with blossom, and one of them said:

"We'll now see if this thorn is really enchanted. I'll dance round it, and you sit and watch what happens."

Instead of dancing in the ordinary way about the tree, however, he danced round it backwards. When he had done, the earth opened, and a green table came up. On the table were delicate dishes of meat and fish.

"Don't touch it; it is fairy food!" said one of the shepherd boys.

But his daring companion feasted to his heart's content, and the table then sank into the earth. He is now one of the richest farmers in England, for the food was lucky food, but his companion is still only a shepherd.

THE CHRYSANTHEMUM

IN the Black Forest lived a peasant

named Hermann. Going home one Christmas Eve, he saw a little boy lying in the snow. He carried him to his wife and children, who, in their pity, gladly shared with him their little. feast.

All night he remained in the hut, and in the morning the guest revealed himself as the Christ-child, and vanished. When Hermann next passed the place where he found the Child, wonderful flowers were growing out of the snow. Gathering a handful, he gave them to his wife, who called them chrysanthemums, meaning Christ-flowers, or, more correctly, gold-flowers. Ever after this on Christmas Eve a part of the feast in Hermann's house was set aside for some poor child, in memory of their guest.

THE ROSE OF JERICHO THE HE rose of Jericho is also known as the Resurrection flower, for it is supposed to have the property of dying and coming to life again. Its origin is described in a very pretty legend.

When the infant Jesus fled from Bethlehem with His mother Mary and Joseph, to avoid the massacre of all the young children by King Herod, the party are said to have crossed the plains of Jericho. When Mary alighted from the ass on which she was riding, this little flower sprang up at her feet to greet the infant Saviour whom she carried in her arms.

Flowers are said to have thus sprung up at all the places where the Holy Child rested.

All through the Saviour's life on earth the little rose of Jericho continued to flourish, but when He died. upon the Cross all these flowers withered and died away at the same time. Three days later, however, our Lord rose again from the tomb, and at the same time the roses of Jericho came to life, and sprang up and blossomed all over the plain as an emblem of the joy of the earth because Christ was risen.

And because of these happenings, the rose of Jericho has ever since borne also the name of the Resurrection flower.

AN

N old Mother Duck, who was very proud of her handsome family, was very disappointed when another little one was born who was so ugly that everybody called him the Ugly Duckling. "I never imagined," she said to a friend who came to visit her, that I should ever have such an ugly child. Just look at the others, how pretty they are and how gracefully they move!" Soon the ducklings grew old enough to have their first swimming lesson.

"Quack, quack!" cried the Mother Duck, and out they all came, as fine a brood of ducklings as any mother could wish to see. And behind them came the Ugly Duckling, alone and forlorn.

Do you not see your young brother?" said the Mother Duck.

"He can't be our brother," they replied scornfully. "He is so ugly

that we can't bear to look at him."

But when they found that he took to the water like a brave young duck should, and beat them all at their games and races, they were jealous of him, and angry that one so inferior in appearance should in any way excel.

One day the Mother Duck took her children to visit some friends in a neighbouring farmyard. They had not been there long before the Ugly Duckling found everybody staring at him, and one old duck even flew at him and bit him on the neck.

"You are not like the rest of us," he said. "You are so big and ugly. Why do you come here?"

"Let him alone," said the Mother Duck. "He is not pretty like my other children, but he is good-natured, and he swims better than any of them."

But when the mother's back was turned, the Ugly Duckling had a bad time of it. They all made fun of him, and gave him sharp pecks.

They all hate me because I am ugly," sighed the Ugly Duckling, "and it is through no fault of mine. I am evidently not wanted. I will go away.'

And so when no one was looking he stole away. On and on he went until he came to a great moor, where he saw a number of wild ducks who came to have a look at the stranger.

"How do you do?" said the Ugly Duckling politely.

But they stared at him for some time without answering, and then one said:

"How ugly you are! And then they all began to laugh. But just at that moment there came a sound which terrified the poor duckling.

"Pop, pop!" went a gun, and down dropped the wild ducks one by one.

The smoke from the guns blew across the water and choked him, and as it faded away in the air the duckling was terrified to see a huge dog dash into the water and come swimming towards him. He was too frightened to move, but to his surprise the animal, with a sniff, passed him and left him trembling from head to foot with fright.

"I am so ugly that even a dog cannot bear to look at me," he thought, and he shivered and dared not move till the sun had gone down, lest other strange dangers should come upon him.

When morning dawned he caught sight of a little cottage that lay close by. Perhaps it might offer shelter for the poor lost duckling, who felt so helpless in a strange world.

He went up to the door and peeped in. An old woman stood by the hearth, and near by crouched a cat and a hen.

"Perhaps they will not notice how ugly I am, and will let me stay," thought the duckling. And he crept in and waited just inside the doorway.

The cat saw him first, and she began to purr loudly, and the old woman looked round.

The Ugly Duckling held his breath. for fear that she should turn him out. But a smile spread over her face.

"How very fortunate I am," she exclaimed, "for now I shall have some duck's eggs!"