Though his spur be as sharp and his blade be as bright; Allen-a-Dale is no baron or lord,Yet twenty tall yeomen will draw at his word; And the best of our nobles his bonnet will vail,Who at Rere-cross on Stanmore meets Allen-a-dale.
Allen-a-Dale to his wooing is come;
The mother, she asked of his household and home.
" Though the castle of Richmond stand fair on the hill,My hall,"quoth bold Allen, "shows gallanter still;" Tis the blue vault of heaven, with its crescent so pale,And with all its bright spangles!" said Allen-a-Dale.
The father was steel, and the mother was stone; They lifted the latch, and they bade him begone. But loud, on the morrow, their wail and their cry!
He had laughed on the lass with his bonnie black eye;And she fled to the forest to hear a love-tale,And the youth it was told by was Allen-a-Dale!
- Sir Walter Scott
Author.-Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832), the greatest of Scottish novelists and one of the greatest of Scottish poets, was born at Edinburgh. Nearly all of his works deal with history, his chief poems being-The Lay of the Last Minstrel, Marmion, The Lady of the Lake, Rokeby, Lord of the Isles; his chief prose works Waverley, the Heart of Midlothian, Ivanhoe, and Quentin Durward. He wrote also a History of Scotland and Tales of a Grandfather. "Scott exalted and purified the novel, and made Scotland known throughout the world." He has been called the "Wizard of the North."General Notes.-This is a song sung by a minstrel to the accompani- ment of the harp. It comes in the longer poem, Rokeby. Here is the story of Allen-a-dale told in prose: Allen-a-dale, of Nottinghamshire, was to be married to a lady who returned his love, but her parents compelled her to forgo young Allen for an old knight of wealth. Allen told his tale to Robin Hood, and the bold forester, in the disguise of a harper, went to the church where the wedding ceremony was to take place. When the wedding party stepped in, Robin Hood exclaimed, " This is no fit match; the bride shall be married only to the man of her choice." Then he sounded his horn, and Allen-a-dale with four-and-twenty bowmen entered the church. The bishop refused to marry the woman to Allen till the banns had been asked three times, whereupon Robin pulled off the bishop"s gown and invested Little John in it, who asked the banns seven times, and performed the ceremony.
Notes on the Places Mentioned.-The ruins of the castle of Ravensworthare in the north of Yorkshire, about 3 miles from the town of Richmond. Near the castle is the forest of Arkingarth. The castle belonged at first to the powerful family of Fitz-Hugh, from whom it passed to the family of Dacre. Rere-cross was an old cross erected upon the ridge of Stanmore; it is said that at one time it marked the boundary between the kingdoms of England and Scotland.
Lesson 36
THE BOER AND HIS HORSE
When I was a small child and went to school, too young to read, I heard a thing read of a horse that made both my cheeks wet with hot tears. The man who owned the horse lived at the Cape of Good Hope, and was called a Boer. He was a poor man of Dutch blood, who was born on the soil of that land, and tilled it with the plough and hoe.
He was a kind man at heart, though rough in look and speech. He loved his mare, and she loved him, and was with him by day and near him by night. She was proud to have him on her back, and would dash through swamps, ponds, and fire, too, if he wished it.
But a day came that proved the faith and love of her stout heart and the soul of the man. A great storm came down on the sea. The waves roared, and rose as high as the hills. Their white tops foamed with rage at the winds that smote them with all their might.
Night drew near, and it was a scene to make one quake with fear. Right in the midst of all this rage and roar of wind and sea, a great ship, with sails rent and helm gone, came in sight. It rode on the high, white waves straight on to a reefof rocks, too far from the shore to be reached with a rope.
The ship was full of young and old, whose cries for help could be heard, loud as was the voice of the storm. Their boats were gone. There was no wood with which to build a raft. The waves leaped on the ship like great white wolves bent on their prey. How could one soul of them all be saved?
The men on shore could but look on the sad sight. They could give no help. They had no boat nor raft, and their hearts were sick within them.
Then the Boer was seen to draw near at full speed on his horse. Down he came to the beach, nor did he stop there one breath of time.
He spoke a word to her which she knew, and with no touch of whip or spur she dashed in, and with a rope tied to her tail swam the sea to the ship"s side. She wheeled, and stamped her way on the white surge with a row of men to the shore. There she stayed but for a breath.
At the soft word and touch she knew so well, she turned and once more ploughed through the surge to the ship, and brought back a load of young and old. Once more she stood on the beach, amidst tears of joy that fell from all eyes. She stood there weak, as wet with sweat as with the sea. The night settled down fast on the ship. There were still a few more left on it, and their cries for help came on the wind to the shore.
The thoughts that tugged at the brave man"s heart will not be known in this world. The cries from the ship pierced it through and through. He could not bear to hear them. He spoke a low, soft word to his horse; he put his hand to her neck, and seemed to ask her if she could do it. She turned her head to him with a look that meant, " If you wish it, I will try." He did wish it, and she tried to the last pulse of her heart.
She walked straight into the wild sea. All on shore held their breath at the sight. She was weak, but brave. Now and then the white surge buried her head; then she rose and shook the brine out of her eyes.
Foot by foot, slowly but surely, she neared the ship. Now the last man on that doomed vessel had caught the rope. Once more she turned her head to the beach. Shouts and prayers came from it to keep up her strength.
