Fifty Famous Stories Retold
long. What a fine dinner they would be for a starving horse!
He stretched his thin neck, and took one of the tempting morsels in
his mouth. It was hard to break it from the vine. He pulled at it, and
the great bell above him began to ring. All the people in Atri heard
it. It seemed to say,--
"Some one has done me wrong!
Some one has done me wrong!
Oh! come and judge my case!
Oh! come and judge my case!
For I've been wronged!"
The judges heard it. They put on their robes, and went out through the
hot streets to the market place. They wondered who it could be who
would ring the bell at such a time. When they passed through the gate,
they saw the old horse nibbling at the vine.
"Ha!" cried one, "it is the miser's steed. He has come to call for
justice; for his master, as everybody knows, has treated him most
shame-ful-ly."
"He pleads his cause as well as any dumb brute can," said another.
"And he shall have justice!" said the third.
Mean-while a crowd of men and women and children had come into the
market place, eager to learn what cause the judges were about to try.
When they saw the horse, all stood still in wonder. Then every one was
ready to tell how they had seen him wan-der-ing on the hills, unfed,
un-cared for, while his master sat at home counting his bags of gold.
"Go bring the miser before us," said the judges.
And when he came, they bade him stand and hear their judg-ment.
"This horse has served you well for many a year," they said. "He has
saved you from many a peril. He has helped you gain your wealth.
Therefore we order that one half of all your gold shall be set aside
to buy him shelter and food, a green pasture where he may graze, and a
warm stall to comfort him in his old age."
The miser hung his head, and grieved to lose his gold; but the people
shouted with joy, and the horse was led away to his new stall and a
dinner such as he had not had in many a day.
HOW NAPOLEON CROSSED THE ALPS.
About a hundred years ago there lived a great gen-er-al whose name was
Na-po'le-on Bo'na-parte. He was the leader of the French army; and
France was at war with nearly all the countries around. He wanted very
much to take his soldiers into It-a-ly; but between France and Italy
there are high mountains called the Alps, the tops of which are
covered with snow.
"Is it pos-si-ble to cross the Alps?" said Na-po-le-on.
The men who had been sent to look at the passes over the mountains
shook their heads. Then one of them said, "It may be possible, but"--
"Let me hear no more," said Napoleon. "Forward to Italy!"
People laughed at the thought of an army of sixty thousand men
crossing the Alps where there was no road. But Napoleon waited only to
see that everything was in good order, and then he gave the order to
march.
The long line of soldiers and horses and cannon stretched for twenty
miles. When they came to a steep place where there seemed to be no way
to go farther, the trum-pets sounded "Charge!" Then every man did his
best, and the whole army moved right onward.
Soon they were safe over the Alps. In four days they were marching on
the plains of Italy.
"The man who has made up his mind to win," said Napoleon, "will never
say 'Im-pos-si-ble.'"
THE STORY OF CINCINNATUS.
There was a man named Cin-cin-na'tus who lived on a little farm not
far from the city of Rome. He had once been rich, and had held the
highest office in the land; but in one way or another he had lost all
his wealth. He was now so poor that he had to do all the work on his
farm with his own hands. But in those days it was thought to be a
noble thing to till the soil.
Cin-cin-na-tus was so wise and just that every-body trusted him, and
asked his advice; and when any one was in trouble, and did not know
what to do, his neighbors would say,--
"Go and tell Cincinnatus. He will help you."
Now there lived among the mountains, not far away, a tribe of fierce,
half-wild men, who were at war with the Roman people. They per-suad-ed
another tribe of bold war-riors to help them, and then marched toward
the city, plun-der-ing and robbing as they came. They boasted that
they would tear down the walls of Rome, and burn the houses, and kill
all the men, and make slaves of the women and children.
At first the Romans, who were very proud and brave, did not think
there was much danger. Every man in Rome was a soldier, and the army
which went out to fight the robbers was the finest in the world. No
one staid at home with the women and children and boys but the
white-haired "Fathers," as they were called, who made the laws for the
city, and a small company of men who guarded the walls. Everybody
thought that it would be an easy thing to drive the men of the
mountains back to the place where they belonged.
But one morning five horsemen came riding down the road from the
mountains. They rode with great speed; and both men and horses were
covered with dust and blood. The watchman at the gate knew them, and
shouted to them as they gal-loped in. Why did they ride thus? and what
had happened to the Roman army?
They did not answer him, but rode into the city and along the quiet
streets; and everybody ran after them, eager to find out what was the
matter. Rome was not a large city at that time; and soon they reached
the market place where the white-haired Fathers were sitting. Then
they leaped from their horses, and told their story.
"Only yes-ter-day," they said, "our army was marching through a narrow
valley between two steep mountains. All at once a thou-sand sav-age
men sprang out from among the rocks before us and above us. They had
blocked up the way; and the pass was so narrow that we could not
fight. We tried to come back; but they had blocked up the way on this
side of us too. The fierce men of the mountains were before us and
behind us, and they were throwing rocks down upon us from above. We
had been caught in a trap. Then ten of us set spurs to our horses; and
five of us forced our way through, but the other five fell before the
spears of the mountain men. And now, O Roman Fathers! send help to our
army at once, or every man will be slain, and our city will be taken."
"What shall we do?" said the white-haired Fathers. "Whom can we send
but the guards and the boys? and who is wise enough to lead them, and
thus save Rome?"
All shook their heads and were very grave; for it seemed as if there
was no hope. Then one said, "Send for Cincinnatus. He will help us."
Cincinnatus was in the field plowing when the men who had been sent to
him came in great haste. He stopped and greeted them kindly, and
waited for them to speak.
"Put on your cloak, Cincinnatus," they said, "and hear the words of
the Roman people."
Then Cincinnatus wondered what they could mean. "Is all well with
Rome?" he asked; and he called to his wife to bring him his cloak.
She brought the cloak; and Cincinnatus wiped the dust from his hands
and arms, and threw it over his shoulders. Then the men told their
errand.
They told him how the army with all the noblest men of Rome had been
en-trapped in the mountain pass. They told him about the great danger
the city was in. Then they said, "The people of Rome make you their
ruler and the ruler of their city, to do with everything as you
choose; and the Fathers bid you come at once and go out against our
enemies, the fierce men of the mountains."
So Cincinnatus left his plow standing where it was, and hurried to the
city. When he passed through the streets, and gave orders as to what
should be done, some of the people were afraid, for they knew that he
had all power in Rome to do what he pleased. But he armed the guards
and the boys, and went out at their head to fight the fierce mountain
men, and free the Roman army from the trap into which it had fallen.
A few days afterward there was great joy in Rome. There was good news
from Cincinnatus. The men of the mountains had been beaten with great
loss. They had been driven back into their own place.
And now the Roman army, with the boys and the guards, was coming home
with banners flying, and shouts of vic-to-ry; and at their head rode
Cincinnatus. He had saved Rome.
Cincinnatus might then have made himself king; for his word was law,
and no man dared lift a finger against him. But, before the people
could thank him enough for what he had done, he gave back the power to
the white-haired Roman Fathers, and went again to his little farm and
his plow.
He had been the ruler of Rome for sixteen days.
THE STORY OF REGULUS.
On the other side of the sea from Rome there was once a great city
named Car-thage. The Roman people were never very friendly to the
people of Car-thage, and at last a war began between them. For a long
time it was hard to tell which would prove the stronger. First the
Romans would gain a battle, and then the men of Car-thage would gain a
battle; and so the war went on for many years.
Among the Romans there was a brave gen-er-al named Reg'u-lus,--a man
of whom it was said that he never broke his word. It so happened after
a while, that Reg-u-lus was taken pris-on-er and carried to Carthage.
Ill and very lonely, he dreamed of his wife and little children so far
away beyond the sea; and he had but little hope of ever seeing them
again. He loved his home dearly, but he believed that his first duty
was to his country; and so he had left all, to fight in this cruel
war.
He had lost a battle, it is true, and had been taken prisoner. Yet he
knew that the Romans were gaining ground, and the people of Carthage
were afraid of being beaten in the end. They had sent into other
countries to hire soldiers to help them; but even with these they
would not be able to fight much longer against Rome.
One day some of the rulers of Carthage came to the prison to talk with
Regulus.
"We should like to make peace with the Roman people," they said, "and
we are sure, that, if your rulers at home knew how the war is going,
they would be glad to make peace with us. We will set you free and let
you go home, if you will agree to do as we say."
"What is that?" asked Regulus.
"In the first place," they said, "you must tell the Romans about the
battles which you have lost, and you must make it plain to them that
they have not gained any-thing by the war. In the second place, you
must promise us, that, if they will not make peace, you will come back
to your prison."
"Very well," said Regulus, "I promise you, that, if they will not make
peace, I will come back to prison."
And so they let him go; for they knew that a great Roman would keep
his word.
When he came to Rome, all the people greeted him gladly. His wife and
children were very happy, for they thought that now they would not be
parted again. The white-haired Fathers who made the laws for the city
came to see him. They asked him about the war.
"I was sent from Carthage to ask you to make peace," he said. "But it
will not be wise to make peace. True, we have been beaten in a few
battles, but our army is gaining ground every day. The people of
Carthage are afraid, and well they may be. Keep on with the war a
little while longer, and Carthage shall be yours. As for me, I have
come to bid my wife and children and Rome fare-well. To-morrow I will
start back to Carthage and to prison; for I have promised."
Then the Fathers tried to persuade him to stay.
"Let us send another man in your place," they said.
"Shall a Roman not keep his word?" answered Regulus. "I am ill, and at
the best have not long to live. I will go back, as I promised."
His wife and little children wept, and his sons begged him not to
leave them again.