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OD DOO BOOK Bug 30183 803 6783.
By Eugene FIELD
| Side by side on the table sat; 'Twas half-past twelve, and (what do you think!) Nor one nor t’other had slept a wink!
The old Dutch clock and the Chinese plate
Appeared to know as sure as fate
(I wasn't there: I simply state
*From "Love Songs of Childhood," copyright, 1894, by Eugene Field : published by Charles Scribner's Sons.
While the old Dutch clock in the chimney-place
Up with its hands before its face,
(Now mind: I'm only telling you
Employing every tooth and claw
In the awfullest way you ever saw-
(Don't fancy I exaggerate!
I got my news from the Chinese plate!)
But the truth about the cat and pup
Is this: they ate each other up!
(The old Dutch clock it told me so,
THE BALD KNIGHT CERTAIN knight, who wore a wig to conceal A baldness, was out hunting one day, when a sudden gust of wind carried away his wig.
His friends all laughed heartily at the odd figure he made, but the old fellow, so far from being put out, laughed heartily also. “Is it any wonder,” said he, “that another man's hair will not keep on my head when my own would not stay there?”.
Adapted by Anna McCALEB
glad to have a girl baby born into their
| is very sorry when his first baby is a L os girl. At any rate, this is what hap
pened in the case of Jasius, a king of Arcadia, in Greece. For a long time he had prayed for a son, and when one day his servants said to him, “You have a little daughter,” he was very angry.
If he had looked at the child and had seen how beautiful she was, and what bright black eyes she had, he must have loved her, whether he wanted to or not; but without having seen her, he just cried:
"I don't want her. She can never be a king. Take her out on the mountain and let her die.”
The baby's mother cried and begged, but the king would have his way, and at last a servant took the pretty baby far from its home and left it on the mountain side.
While the child lay crying from hunger and cold and fright, a big, black bear came along. She sniffed at the child and rolled it over with her paw; but although she was so big and the baby was so little, she never even tried to hurt it. When evening came and the bear went back to her den and to the cubs she had left there, she took the little girl with her, and for a long time the child lived with the bear family in a cave on the mountain side. Her only playmates were the baby bears. She ate berries and nuts and wild honey, as they did, and she grew quite used to being out in all kinds of weather.
At last, one day, some hunters saw the little girl and took her home with them. She was very lonesome, and cried for her bear playmates, but when the hunters made her a little hunting dress and gave her arrows and a bow and a little spear, she forgot to be lonely and became very happy again. She learned to hunt better than any other girl who had ever lived, and she could shoot an arrow or throw a · spear just as straight as a big, strong man. After
she grew to be a tall and beautiful girl, she took part in many wonderful adventures which would have frightened any other girl to death, and never once was she hurt. One time she helped some of the bravest and strongest men in all Greece to hunt a great boar, with awful tusks, like knives, and fierce, bloodshot eyes and long, stiff, sharp bristles. When the boar was finally killed, its head and its hide were given to the young huntress, because she had been the first to wound it.
One day when King Jasius of Arcadia was sitting on his golden throne, with his golden crown on his head, a tall girl walked into the room and straight up to the throne.
“Who are you, young woman,” demanded the king, “and how dare you come into the palace and even to the steps of my throne?”
“My name is Atalanta,” answered the girl, "and I am your daughter. If you don't want me here, I can go right back into the forest where I have grown up.”
But the king, when he saw how beautiful and how brave she was (for of course it takes a very brave person to speak in that way to a king), said to himself, “She will be almost as good as a son,” and he would not let her live any place but in the palace. And it was not long before every one there became so fond of her that it seemed strange they could ever have lived without her. Many princes came from all parts of Greece and wanted to marry her, but to every one she said, “I don't want to get married, and I'm not going to do anything I don't want to do.”
“But, my dear child,” said old King Jasius, “who ever heard of a princess without a husband? They always marry, and you'll just have to do it.”
“But I don't want a husband,” she said. “I like men to go hunting with, but I'm sure I couldn't bear to have one around all the time and to know that he was my husband.”
Finally, however, when the king insisted and insisted, she thought of a way out.
“I'll marry any man,” she said, “who can beat me in a foot race.”
“That's fair enough,” replied the king. “I'll send word to all the princes, and we'll have a great race.”
“There's one thing more," added Atalanta. “Every man who tries and is beaten in the race must allow himself to be put to death."
She wasn't really such a cruel princess, but she thought that if the young men knew they would die if they failed, they would all go away and let her alone.