10. Why was the king so enthusiastic over the final triumph of the spider? 11. What caused Bruce now to feel that he would succeed? 12. Explain "braced his mind." 13. What connection do you trace between "braced his mind" and his success? 14. What do you think is the deeper meaning of this poem as applied to human life? ADDITIONAL READINGS BROWNING: Hervé Riel. Prospice. STANLEY, BESSIE A: True Success. FINCH: Nathan Hale. SONG For the tender beech and the sapling oak, You may cut down both at a single stroke, But this you must know, that as long as they grow, Whatever change may be, You can never teach either oak or beech To be aught but a greenwood tree. -Thomas Love Peacock. THE MOUSE AND THE MOONBEAM WE E often find it hard to think of what we read as real even when we think it must be true. We must be able to live things either really or in our imagination to make them seem a part of what we prize. Many who write know this and try to make. some things seem real to us by writing imaginary stories concerning them. If such a writer really loves the story and has a kind heart, he adds much to the value of his work. Eugene Field was such a writer. He was in the habit of giving animals and flowers odd but kind names from his boyhood. When he became a man, he was the children's friend and loved nothing more than to tell them beautiful stories in his kindest and happiest ways. Here is one of these stories written for his own children and now loved by all children who have heard or read it. THE MOUSE AND THE MOONBEAM 1 1. Whilst you were sleeping, little Dear-my-Soul, strange things happened; but that I saw and heard them, I should never have believed them. The 1 Abridged from "A Little Book of Profitable Tales," published by Charles Scribner's Sons. Copyright, 1889, by Eugene Field. clock stood, of course, in the corner, a moonbeam floated idly on the floor, and a little mauve mouse came from the hole in the chimney corner and frisked and scampered in the light of the moonbeam upon the floor. The little mauve mouse was particularly merry; sometimes she danced upon two legs and sometimes upon four legs, but always very daintily and always very merrily. 2. "Ah, me!" sighed the old clock, "how different mice are nowadays from the mice we used to have in the good old times! Now there was your grandma, Mistress Velvetpaw, and there was your grandpa, Master Sniff whisker, how grave and dignified they were! "Many a night have I seen them dancing upon the carpet below me, but always the stately minuet and never that crazy frisking which you are executing now, to my surprise - yes, and to my horror, too." "But why shouldn't I be merry?" asked the little "To-morrow is Christmas, and this mauve mouse. is Christmas Eve." "So it is," said the old clock. "I had really forgotten all about it. But, tell me, what is Christmas to you, little Miss Mauve Mouse?" 3. "A great deal to me!" cried the little mauve mouse. "I have been very good a very long time; I have not used any bad words, nor have I gnawed any holes, nor have I stolen any canary seed, nor have I worried my mother by running behind the flour barrel where that horrid trap is set. In fact, I have been so good that I'm very sure Santa Claus will bring me something very pretty.' This seemed to amuse the old clock mightily; in fact, the old clock fell to laughing so heartily that she struck twelve instead of ten, which was exceedingly careless. 4. "Why, you silly little mauve mouse," said the old clock, "you don't believe in Santa Claus, do you?" "Of course I do," answered the little mauve mouse. "Believe in Santa Claus? Why shouldn't I? Didn't Santa Claus bring me a beautiful buttercracker last Christmas, and a lovely gingersnap, and a delicious rind of cheese, and and lots of things? I should be very ungrateful if I did not believe in Santa Claus, and I certainly shall not disbelieve in him at the very moment when I am expecting him to arrive with a bundle of goodies for me." 5. "But if you believe in Santa Claus, why aren't you in bed?" said the old clock. "That's where I shall be presently," answered the little mauve mouse, "but I must have my scamper, you know. It is very pleasant, I assure you, to frolic in the light of the moon; only I cannot understand why you are always so cold and so solemn and so still, you pale, pretty little moonbeam." "Indeed, I do not know that I am so," said the moonbeam. "But I am very old, and I have traveled many, many leagues, and I have seen wondrous things. Sometimes I toss upon the ocean, sometimes I fall upon a slumbering flower. I see the fairies at their play, and I hear mothers singing lullabies. Last night I swept across the frozen bosom of a river.” 6. "How strangely you talk," said the old clock. "Now, I'll warrant me that, if you wanted to, you could tell many a pretty and wonderful story. You must know many a Christmas tale; pray, tell us one to wear away this night of Christmas watching." "I know but one," said the moonbeam. "I have told it over and over again, in every land and in every home; yet I do not weary of it. It is very simple. Should you like to hear it?” "Indeed we should," said the old clock; "but before you begin, let me strike twelve, for I shouldn't want to interrupt you." 7. When the old clock had performed this duty, the moonbeam began its story: "Upon a time-so long ago that I can't tell how long ago it was-I fell upon a hillside. It was in a far distant country; this I know, because, although it was the Christmas time, it was not in that country as it is wont to be in countries to the north. Hither the snow king never came; flowers bloomed all the year, and at all times the lambs found pleasant pasturage on the hillsides. "The night wind was balmy, and there was a fragrance of cedar in its breath. There were violets on the hillside, and I fell amongst them and lay there. I kissed them and they awakened. 'Ah, is it |