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One fatal winter, in the fourth year of King Alfred's reign, the Danes spread themselves in great numbers over England. They so dispersed the king's soldiers that Alfred was left alone, and was obliged to disguise himself as a common peasant and to take refuge in the cottage of one of his cowherds, who did not know him.

Here King Alfred, while the Danes sought him far and near, was left alone one day by the cowherd's wife to watch some cakes which she put to bake upon the hearth. But the king was at work upon his bow and arrows, with which he hoped to punish the false Danes when a brighter time should come. He was thinking deeply, too, of his poor, unhappy subjects, whom the Danes chased through the land. his noble mind forgot the cakes, and they were burnt. "What!" said the cowherd's wife, who scolded him well when she came back, and little thought she was scolding the king. "You will be ready enough to eat them by and by; and yet you can not watch them, idle dog!"

And so

At length the Devonshire men made head against the new host of Danes who landed on their coast. They killed the Danish chief, and captured the famous flag, on which was the likeness of a raven. The loss of this standard troubled the Danes greatly. They believed it to be enchanted, for it had been woven by the three daughters of their king in a single afternoon. And they had a story among themselves that when they were victorious in battle, the raven would stretch his wings and seem to fly; and that when they were defeated he would droop.

It was important to know how numerous the Danes were, and how they were fortified. And so King Alfred, being a good musician, disguised himself as a minstrel, and went with his harp to the Danish camp. He played and sang in the very tent of Guthrum,* the Danish leader, and entertained the Danes as they feasted. While he seemed to think of noth

ing but his music, he was watchful of their tents, their arms, their discipline°-everything that he desired to know.

Right soon did this great king entertain them to a different tune. Summoning all his true followers to meet him at an appointed place, he put himself at their head, marched on the Danish camp, defeated the Danes, and besieged them fourteen days to prevent their escape.

But being as merciful as he was good and brave, he then, instead of killing them, proposed peace,-on condition that they should all depart from that western part of England, and settle in the eastern. Guthrum was an honorable chief, and forever afterward he was loyal and faithful to the king. The Danes under him were faithful, too. They plundered and burned no more, but plowed and sowed and reaped, and led good honest lives. And the children of those Danes played many a time with Saxon children in the sunny fields; and their elders, Danes and Saxons, sat by the red fire in winter, talking of King Alfred the Great.

But all the Danes were not like these under Guthrum. After some years more of them came over in the old plundering, burning way. Among them was a fierce pirate named Hastings, who had the boldness to sail up the Thames with eighty ships.

For three years there was war with these Danes; and there was a famine in the country, too, and a plague upon both human creatures and beasts.

But King Alfred, whose mighty heart never failed him, built large ships with which to pursue the pirates on the sea. He encouraged his soldiers by his brave example to fight valiantly against them on the shore. At last he drove them all away; and then was repose in England.

As great and good in peace as he was great and good in war, King Alfred never rested from his labors to improve his people. He loved to talk with clever men, and with travelers from foreign countries, and to write down what

they had told him for his people to read. He had studied. Latin after learning to read English. And now one of his labors was to translate Latin books into the English-Saxon tongue, that his people might be improved by reading them.

He made just laws that his people might live more happily and freely. He turned away all partial judges that no wrong might be done. He punished robbers so severely that it was a common thing to say that under the great King Alfred garlands of golden chains and jewels might have hung across the streets and no man would have touched them. He founded schools. He patiently heard causes himself in his court of justice. The great desires of his heart were to do right to all his subjects, and to leave England better, wiser, and happier in all ways than he had found it.

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His industry was astonishing. Every day he divided into portions, and in each portion devoted himself to a certain pursuit. That he might divide his time exactly, he had wax torches or candles made, all of the same size and notched across at regular distances. These candles were always kept burning, and as they burned down he divided the day into notches, almost as accurately as we now divide it into hours upon the clock.

But it was found that the wind and draughts of air, blowing into the palace through the doors and windows, caused the candles to burn unequally. To prevent this the king had them put into cases formed of wood and white horn. And these were the first lanterns ever made in England.

King Alfred died in the year 901; but as long ago as that is, his fame, and the love and gratitude with which his subjects regarded him, are freshly remembered to the present hour. -Charles Dickens

Words: illuminated-decorated; dispersed-scattered; disciplinedrill, spirit.

Pleasure Reading:

Tappan's European Hero Stories

Haaren and Poland's Famous Men of the Middle Ages

THE SEA

HE sea! the sea! the open sea!

TH

The blue, the fresh, the ever Without a mark, without a bound,

free!

It runs the earth's wide regions round;

It plays with the clouds; it mocks the skies,

Or like a cradled creature lies.

I'm on the sea! I'm on the sea!

I am where I would ever be,
With the blue above, the blue below,
And silence wheresoe'er I go.

If a storm should come and awake the deep,
What matter? I shall ride and sleep.

I love, oh! how I love to ride.

On the fierce, foaming, bursting tide,
When every mad wave drowns the moon,
Or whistles aloud his tempest tune,
And tells how goeth the world below,
And why the southwest blasts do blow.

I never was on the dull, tame shore,
But I loved the great sea more and more,
And back I flew to her billowy breast,
Like a bird that seeks its mother's nest;
And a mother she was and is to me,
For I was born on the deep, blue sea!

And I have lived, in calm and strife,
Full fifty summers a sailor's life,

With wealth to spend and power to range,
But never have sought or sighed for change;

And Death, whenever he comes to me,
Shall come on the wild and boundless sea.
-Barry Cornwall

THE TWO MATCHES

(This quaint story was written by Robert Louis Stevenson, whom thousands of boys know as the author of Treasure Island. Stevenson was one of the sweetest and kindest souls the world has ever known. He loved and understood little children, and wrote for them a charming collection of poems entitled "A Child's Garden of Verses.")

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NE day there was a traveler in the woods in California, in the dry season, when the Trades were blowing strong. He had ridden a long way, and he was tired and hungry, and dismounted from his horse to smoke a pipe. in his pocket, he found but two matches.

and it would not light.

But when he felt He struck the first

"Here is a pretty state of things," said the traveler. "Dying for a smoke: only one match left; and that certain to miss fire! Was there ever a creature so unfortunate? And yet," thought the traveler, "suppose I light this match, and smoke my pipe, and shake out the dottle here in the grass-the grass might catch on fire, for it is dry like tinder; and while I snatch out the flames in front, they might evade and run behind me, and seize upon yon bush of poison oak; before I could reach it, that would have blazed up; over the bush I see a pine tree hung with moss; that too would fly in fire upon the instant to its topmost bough; and the flame of that long torch-how would the trade wind take and brandish that through the inflammable forest! I hear this dell roar in a moment with the joint voice of wind and fire, I see myself gallop for my soul, and the flying conflagration chase and outflank me through the hills; I see this pleasant forest burn for days, and the cattle roasted, and the springs dried up, and the farmer ruined, and his children cast upon the world. What a world hangs upon this moment!"

With that he struck the match, and it missed fire.

"Thank God," said the traveler, and put his pipe in his pocket.

-Robert Louis Stevenson

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