As the sunflower turns to her god when he sets
The same look which she turned when he rose.
7. THE GOLDEN TOUCH
Once there was a King, named Midas, who loved gold better than anything else in the world. Every day he went down into a dark room in his castle to play with his piles of gold, and to see them shine. One morning, before he arose from his bed, he sighed: “I wish I had the whole world for my treasure-room, and that it was full of gold all my own, then I would be very happy!” Just then a voice said, “Midas, you are a very rich man. You ought to be the happiest man in the world.” “I am not,” said the King; “but I would be if everything I touched would turn to gold.” “Are you sure you would not be sorry you made such a choice?” said the voice. “How could I be sorry? I would be the happiest man in the world!” “Very well, then,” said the voice, “you shall have the Golden Touch.” Just then a little sunbeam came through the window shining on his bed. He put out his hand and touched the coverlet, and it was turned to gold. He sprang from his bed and ran about the room, turning everything to gold. Then he dressed himself and was delighted to find his clothes became golden garments, and his spectacles turned to gold. Going down-stairs he went out into the garden, and kept plucking roses which changed into beautiful, shining gold. Even the dewdrops became little nuggets of gold. Then he went back into the house to breakfast, and had great fun changing his daughter’s bread and milk bowl into gold. Just then his daughter, Marygold, came into the room crying, “Oh, my beautiful roses are all ugly and yellow and without any fragrance.” “Don’t cry,” said her father; “let us eat.” But as soon as he touched his breakfast, the baked potatoes, fish, and cakes all became gold. He raised the cup of coffee to his lips. That too turned to gold, and of course he could not drink it. He looked at Marygold who was quietly eating her bread and milk. How he longed to have just one taste. Seeing her father’s sad face, Marygold ran to him, but as soon as he took her in his arms and kissed her she too became hard, shining gold, and even her tears were little nuggets of gold. Poor, unhappy King! His heart was sad. He threw himself on the floor and tried to pray, but the words would not come. All at once the room grew bright, and a voice said, “How do you like the Golden Touch?” “I hate the very name of gold!” cried the King. “I would give all I have just to see my daughter smile again.” “Then,” said the voice, “take a pitcher, go to the river, jump in head first and fill the pitcher with water; then sprinkle a few drops of it on everything you have changed to gold. Everything will become as before.” The King quickly did all the voice said. The first thing he did with the water was to sprinkle Marygold, who at once opened her eyes in life again. Then he went into the garden and changed the roses back to their natural beauty and fragrance. Nor did he stop until he had sprinkled water on everything he had changed to gold. Then he ate his breakfast with great joy. Only two things were left to remind him of the Golden Touch—the sand in the river and Marygold’s hair. As this made her more beautiful, Midas said that was the only gold he cared for after that.—Adapted from Hawthorne’s “Tanglewood Tales.”
8. SAINT GEORGE AND THE DRAGON
Once upon a time in the early days of the Christians, in the reign of the Emperor Diocletian, there was born in the province of Cappadocia, in Asia Minor, a beautiful baby boy, named George, who grew up to be a brave soldier and knight. Once when he was on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land he came to a town in the country of Libya where the people were living in great terror because a great dragon, with poisonous breath, had his home in a marsh outside the city walls. The monster had devoured their sheep and oxen, and the people were forced to shut themselves close inside their city and send out each day a sheep to satisfy the hunger of this dreadful dragon. At last not one sheep was left. Then the King ordered that each day two children, chosen by lot, should be sent out to the dragon. The people obeyed the King’s order and from day to day arose the bitter cries of parents upon whose children the cruel lot had fallen. But one morning the lot fell upon Cleodolinda, the beautiful fifteen-year-old daughter of the King. He was in despair, for he loved his little daughter most tenderly. He offered all the gold in the treasury and half his kingdom if she should be spared. But the parents who had been obliged to sacrifice their children insisted that the King’s daughter should be given to the dragon, and threatened to burn the King in his palace if he did not send her forth at once. The King pleaded for eight days longer to bid farewell to her. Then he sent her forth weeping, and arrayed in her royal robes, to die for her people. Walking timidly toward the terrible monster’s den, along the path strewn thick with the bleaching bones of her former playmates, she suddenly heard the sound of hurrying horse’s hoofs. She looked up, and there was a beautiful young knight in armor, on a milk-white horse, coming toward her with a gleaming spear, ready to do battle with any enemy that might cross his path. She cried, “Fly! fly for your life, Sir Knight!” But when he had heard her sad story, he said: “God forbid that I should fly! I will destroy this monster, your enemy, and deliver you through the power that lives in all true followers of Christ.” Just then the dragon came forth, half flying and half crawling toward them, clashing his bronze scales with horrid noise. Cleodolinda again begged the knight to fly and leave her to her fate. But Saint George made the sign of the cross and rushed upon the monster. The struggle was fierce and long, for it was hard to strike through the dragon’s bronze scales. But at last, with a blow like that of three strong men, Saint George pinned the dragon to the earth with his lance. Cleodolinda did not run away but, “with folded hands and knees full truly bent,” the brave girl stood near her champion, who said: “Touch him and see how tame he is. See, even his poisonous breath is gone. It is the power of good over evil.” Then he took the girl’s rich girdle, bound it round the great dragon, and gave one end to her, telling her to lead the dragon into the city. So the girl who had obediently gone out to the dragon expecting him to devour her, obediently led the powerless creature over the fields he had laid waste and over the bleaching bones of the children he had devoured, and the meek monster followed her like a lamb toward the walls of the city where the people were gathered in terror. Saint George called out: “Fear not, only believe in the Christ through whose might I have overpowered your enemy, and I will destroy the dragon before your eyes.” Then he took his sword and smote off the dragon’s head, and all the people hailed him as their deliverer. But Saint George bade them give God the praise. He preached to them so earnestly that the King and princess and all the people became Christians. He would not take the gold the King offered him, but ordered that it be distributed among the poor. Then he bade them all adieu and rode away to do in other lands like noble deeds of loving service. So this champion of the weak became the patron saint of merry England, and only the bravest knight or soldier may wear the cross and be called a Knight of Saint George.
9. SAINT PATRICK AND THE SNAKES
If you should ever sail across the ocean to Ireland, and travel on that Emerald Isle, you would be sure to hear many interesting stories about the good missionary, Saint Patrick. One story which was told many years ago by an old monk named Jocelin, is this:
Long, long ago, when Ireland was called Erin, and before Saint Patrick came to the island, the people were troubled with a plague of demons and reptiles. Patrick was the son of a Christian magistrate who lived in England. In the year A. D. 411, when Patrick was fifteen, some wild Irish raiders stole him and sold him as a slave in Ireland, where he remained in slavery for six years tending pigs upon the mountains. When this Christian boy, Patrick, made his escape to France, he resolved to return to Ireland and devote himself as a missionary to the conversion of the people. When he returned to Ireland to enter upon his mission, he found the country stricken because of the demons and reptiles. By means of a wondrous staff which he stretched toward heaven, and a holy bell, Fuin Foya, which when he rang was heard throughout Erin, he drove away the demons with howls of rage. Then, as he went about the land preaching and doing good to all the people, he found them still suffering with the plague of snakes and toads, which ugly reptiles he drove westward until they reached a high rock, when, with a hissing sound, they turned upon Saint Patrick and tried to poison him. But the saint was armed with his melodious bell, which had been given by the angels, and of all sounds in the world the ringing of a heavenly bell is most terrible to a reptile, and the silvery tones of this bell frightened the snakes and toads more than all the bells of the land ringing together. When Saint Patrick saw these wicked serpents making ready to sting him, and saw they all no longer obeyed his commands and his threats, he uncovered the bell and the moment they heard the first tinkle they rushed forward in a body to scramble up the side of the hill and away from the sound they hated. As soon as they reached the top they began to sway to and fro in their fright, for there, far beneath the dark rocks, lay the blue waters of the ocean. But they could not wait there long, for as soon as Saint Patrick came to the summit, he made a sign for them to come near him, and, creeping and crawling, they cowered at his feet, waiting to hear their doom. The good Saint Patrick stood over them and, lifting his staff in his hand, he pointed out far over the sea. “Forward, every one into the sea!” he commanded, “and henceforth this blessed Isle of Erin shall be free forever from your power of evil!” They lay at his feet hissing and writhing in agony, but Saint Patrick began to uncover his bell, Fuin Foya. As soon as they saw that, the reptiles rushed and tumbled down, down over the steep rocks. So, hissing and howling, they plunged into the sea and disappeared under the waves.