The Elson Readers, Book 5
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William H. Elson and Christine M. Keck >> The Elson Readers, Book 5
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"He hath granted us peace and plenty, and the quiet we've sought so
long; He hath thwarted the wily savage, and kept him from wrack and
wrong; And unto our feast the Sachem shall be bidden, that he may know
We worship his own Great Spirit, who maketh the harvests grow.
"So shoulder your matchlocks, masters--there is hunting of all
degrees; And, fishermen, take your tackle, and scour for spoils the
seas; And, maidens and dames of Plymouth, your delicate crafts employ
To honor our First Thanksgiving, and make it a feast of joy!
"We fail of the fruits and dainties--we fail of the old home cheer;
Ah, these are the lightest losses, mayhap, that befall us here; But
see, in our open clearings, how golden the melons lie; Enrich them
with sweets and spices, and give us the pumpkin-pie!"
So, bravely the preparations went on for the autumn feast; The deer
and the bear were slaughtered; wild game from the greatest to least
Was heaped in the colony cabins; brown home-brew served for wine, And
the plum and the grape of the forest, for orange and peach and pine.
At length came the day appointed; the snow had begun to fall, But
the clang from the meeting-house belfry rang merrily over all, And
summoned the folk Of Plymouth, who hastened with glad accord To listen
to Elder Brewster as he fervently thanked the Lord.
In his seat sate Governor Bradford; men, matrons, and maidens fair,
Miles Standish and all his soldiers, with corselet and sword, were
there; And sobbing and tears and gladness had each in its turn
the sway, For the grave of the sweet Rose Standish o'ershadowed
Thanksgiving Day.
And when Massasoit, the Sachem, sate down with his hundred braves, And
ate of the varied riches of gardens and woods and waves, And looked on
the granaried harvest--with a blow on his brawny chest, He muttered,
"The good Great Spirit loves his white children best!"
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
Biographical and Historical Note. Margaret J. Preston (1820-1897)
was one of the leading poets of the South. She wrote many poems and
sketches. "The First Thanksgiving Day" gives a good picture of the
life in the old Pilgrim days.
The Pilgrims landed at Plymouth December 21, 1620. During the long,
hard winter fifty-one of the one hundred Pilgrims died, among them
being Rose Standish, wife of Captain Miles Standish. As soon as spring
came, the colonists planted their fields, and by the end of summer a
plentiful harvest was gathered in. When provisions and fuel had
been laid in for the winter, Governor Bradford appointed a day of
thanksgiving. Venison, wild fowl, and fish were easy to obtain. We
are told, "there was great store of wild turkeys, of which they took
many." For three days a great feast was spread, and Massasoit, the
Indian Sachem, or chief, and many of his people enjoyed it with the
colonists.
Discussion. 1. When did the events related in this story take place?
2. Who was the governor of Plymouth at this time? 3. What proclamation
did he make? 4. What did the governor say that God had done for the
colony? 5. Who did he say should be invited to the feast? 6. What meat
did the Pilgrims have at their first Thanksgiving dinner? 7. What
fruits did they have for the feast? 8. What fruit is meant by "pine"
in line 12, page 93? 9. What did the colonists do "with glad accord"
before they sat down to their feast? 10. Find the lines that tell what
Massasoit said when he ate of the feast. 11. Why is it a good thing
for America to have a day set apart each year for us to give thanks
for our blessings? 12. Find in the Glossary the meaning of: store;
sheaves; clearings; wrack; dames; mayhap; befall; slaughtered;
appointed; summoned; fervently; sate; braves; brawny. 13. Pronounce:
therefore; franchise; wily; Sachem, pumpkin; matrons; corselet;
Massasoit; granaried.
Phrases for Study
'tis meet, scour for spoils, franchise of this good people, delicate
crafts employ, virtue of vested power, fail of the fruits, with one
accord, home-brew served for wine, thwarted the wily savage, each
in its turn the sway, Great Spirit, o'ershadowed Thanksgiving Day,
shoulder your matchlocks, of all degrees, varied riches.
A VISIT FROM ST. NICHOLAS
CLEMENT C. MOORE
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugarplums danced through their heads;
And mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap--
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash;
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave a luster of midday to objects below;
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!--
To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall,
Now, dash away, dash away, dash away, all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So, up to the housetop the coursers they flew,
With a sleigh full of toys--and St. Nicholas, too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound;
He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes, how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry;
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face, and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump--a right jolly old elf;
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere they drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night."
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
Biography. Clement C. Moore (1779-1863) was am American poet and
author. He lived in New York City, where for many years he was engaged
in educational work.
Discussion. 1. What picture do the first eight lines of this poem
give you? 2. Does this picture seem real to you? 3. Of what were the
children dreaming? 4. What word do you use instead of sugarplums? 5.
What picture do you find in lines 7-10, page 96? 6 What is the next
picture? Find the lines that make it. 7. To what is the swiftness of
the reindeer compared? 8. What words show how lightly the reindeer
flew through the air? 9. Find the lines that picture St. Nicholas
after he came down the chimney. 10. Which of all the pictures in the
entire poem can you see most distinctly? 11. Which do you like best?
12. What did you read in "A Forward Look," pages 83-86, about the
value of the home festivals? What does a love of these festivals do
for us? What should we lose if we did not celebrate them? 13. Find in
the Glossary the meaning of: clatter; coursers; hurricane; obstacle;
twinkling; tarnished; encircled; elf. 14. Pronounce: miniature; tiny;
chimney; droll.
OUR COUNTRY AND ITS FLAG
THE LAND OF LIBERTY
(AUTHOR UNKNOWN)
I love my country's pine-clad hills,
Her thousand bright and gushing rills,
Her sunshine and her storms;
Her rough and rugged rocks, that rear
Their hoary heads high in the air
In wild, fantastic forms.
I love her rivers, deep and wide,
Those mighty streams that seaward glide
To seek the ocean's breast;
Her smiling fields, her pleasant vales,
Her shady dells, her flow'ry dales,
The haunts of peaceful rest.
I love her forests, dark and lone,
For there the wild bird's merry tone
I hear from morn till night;
And there are lovelier flowers, I ween,
Than e'er in Eastern lands were seen,
In varied colors bright.
Her forests and her valleys fair,
Her flowers that scent the morning air--
All have their charms for me;
But more I love my country's name,
Those words that echo deathless fame,
"The Land of Liberty."
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
Discussion. 1. What parts of our country are noted for pine forests?
2. What things about America call forth the love of the poet? 3. Does
he have all parts of America in mind, or some part that he knows well?
4. What name does he give America? Why does this "echo deathless
fame"? 5. Name one of the "mighty streams that seaward glide." 6. What
does the poet say makes the forests beautiful? 7. This poem is similar
in many ways to the national hymn, "America." Compare it with the
words of the hymn in as many ways as you can. 8. Commit to memory the
last three lines of the poem. 9. Why is our country called "The Land
of Liberty"? 10. Find in the Glossary the meaning of: gushing;
rills; rugged; rear; vales; dells; lone; ween. 11. Pronounce: hoary;
fantastic; haunts; echo.
Phrases for Study
pine-clad hills, smiling fields, fantastic forms, flow'ry dales,
seaward glide, Eastern lands, ocean's breast, deathless fame.
THE FLAG OF OUR COUNTRY
Charles Sumner
There is the national flag. He must be cold indeed who can look upon
its folds, rippling in the breeze, without pride of country. If he be
in a foreign land, the flag is companionship and country itself, with
all its endearments. Its highest beauty is in what it symbolizes. It
is because it represents all, that all gaze at it with delight and
reverence.
It is a piece of bunting lifted in the air; but it speaks sublimely,
and every part has a voice. Its stripes of alternate red and white
proclaim the original union of thirteen states to maintain the
Declaration of Independence. Its stars of white on a field of blue
proclaim that union of states constituting our national constellation,
which receives a new star with every new state. The two together
signify union past and present.
The very colors have a language which was officially recognized by our
fathers. White is for purity, red for valor, blue for justice; and all
together, bunting, stripes, stars, and colors, blazing in the sky,
make the flag of our country to be cherished by all our hearts, to be
upheld by all our hands.
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
Biography. Charles Sumner (1811-1874), an American statesman and
orator, was born in Boston, Massachusetts. He became United States
senator in 1851. "The Flag of Our Country" is taken from an address
delivered in 1867 at Cooper Institute in New York.
Discussion. 1. Each paragraph in this selection has a separate
message. Does the first paragraph fit America only, or could an
Englishman say the same thing about his national flag, and a Frenchman
of his? What then is the thing that any flag represents to the citizen
of the country to which he belongs? 2. What facts peculiar to America
does the second paragraph give you? 3. How many stripes has the flag?
4. How many stars were in the first American flag? How many are there
now? 5. What is meant by "union past and present"? 6. "White is for
purity"--in what way does this express the ideals of the founders of
our country? 7. Do you know the rules for the raising and lowering of
the flag? 8. Find in the Glossary the meaning of: rippling; reverence;
bunting; proclaim; original; maintain; constituting; valor; cherished.
9. Pronounce: symbolizes; sublimely; alternate; constellation.
Phrases for Study
he must be cold, national constellation, all its endearments, signify
union, speaks sublimely, officially recognized, every part has a
voice, blazing in the sky.
THE NAME OF OLD GLORY
1898
James Whitcomb Riley
I
Old Glory! say, who,
By the ships and the crew,
And the long, blended ranks of the gray and the blue,--
Who gave you, Old Glory, the name that you bear
With such pride everywhere
As you cast yourself free to the rapturous air
And leap out full-length, as we're wanting you to?--
Who gave you that name, with the ring of the same,
And the honor and fame so becoming to you?--
Your stripes stroked in ripples of white and of red,
With your stars at their glittering best overhead--
By day or by night
Their delightfulest light
Laughing down from their little square heaven of blue!--
Who gave you the name of Old Glory?--say, who--
Who gave you the name of Old Glory?
The old banner lifted, and altering then
In vague lisps and whispers fell silent again.
II
Old Glory,--speak out!--we are asking about
How you happened to "favor" a name, so to say,
That sounds so familiar and careless and gay
As we cheer it and shout in our wild breezy way--
We--the crowd, every man of us, calling you that--
We--Tom, Dick, and Harry--each swinging his hat
And hurrahing "Old Glory!" like you were our kin,
When--Lord!--we all know we're as common as sin!
And yet it just seems like you humor us all
And waft us your thanks, as we hail you and fall
Into line, with you over us, waving us on
Where our glorified, sanctified betters have gone,--
And this is the reason we're wanting to know--
(And we're wanting it so!--
Where our own fathers went we are willing to go.)--
Who gave you the name of Old Glory--O-ho!--
Who gave you the name of Old Glory?
The old flag unfurled with a billowy thrill
For an instant, then wistfully sighed and was still.
III
Old Glory: the story we're wanting to hear
Is what the plain facts of your christening were,--
For your name--just to hear it.
Repeat it, and cheer it, 's a tang to the spirit
As salty as a tear;--
And seeing you fly, and the boys marching by,
There's a shout in the throat and a blur in the eye
And an aching to live for you always--or die,
If, dying, we still keep you waving on high.
And so, by our love
For you, floating above,
And the sears of all wars and the sorrows thereof,
Who gave you the name of Old Glory, and why
Are we thrilled at the name of Old Glory?
Then the old banner leaped, like a sail in the blast,
And fluttered an audible answer at last.--
IV
And it spake, with a shake of the voice, and it said:--
By the driven snow-white and the living blood-red
Of my bars, and their heaven of stars overhead--
By the symbol conjoined of them all, skyward cast,
As I float from the steeple, or flap at the mast,
Or droop o'er the sod where the long grasses nod,--
My name is as old as the glory of God.
...So I came by the name of Old Glory.
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
Biography. James Whitcomb Riley (1852-1916) was a native of Indiana.
Most of his life was spent in Indianapolis, where he lived on the
quiet Lockerbie Street which he celebrated in one of his poems. He
is called "The Hoosier Poet." He wrote several volumes of poems, the
first being The Old Swimmin' Hole and 'Leven More Poems. The school
children of Indiana celebrated Riley's birthday on October 7, 1911,
and have each year since made this a festival day.
Discussion. Because of the many figurative expressions used in this
selection it should be read and studied in class.
THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER
FRANCIS SCOTT KEY
O say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming;
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there;
O say, does that Star-Spangled Banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
On that shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam--
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream;
'Tis the Star-Spangled Banner; O long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
And where are the foes who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave;
And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
O thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved homes and the war desolation;
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n-rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation!
Then conquer we must, for our cause it is just,
And this be our motto, "In God is our trust";
And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
NOTES AND QUESTIONS
Biographical and Historical Note. Francis Scott Key (1780-1843), a
native of Maryland, was a lawyer and poet. His patriotic poem, "The
Star-Spangled Banner," which has become a national song, made him
famous.
The incidents referred to in this poem occurred during the War of
1812. In August, 1814, a strong force of British entered Washington
and burned the Capitol, the White House, and many other public
buildings. On September 13, the British admiral moved his fleet into
position to attack Fort McHenry, near Baltimore. The bombardment of
the fort lasted all night, but the fort was so bravely defended that
the flag was still floating over it when morning came.
Just before the bombardment began, Francis Scott Key was sent to the
admiral's frigate to arrange for an exchange of prisoners, and was
told to wait until the bombardment was over. All night he watched
the fort, and by the first rays of morning light he saw he Stars
and Stripes still waving. Then, in his joy and pride, he wrote the
stirring words of the song which is now known and loved by all
Americans--"The Star-Spangled Banner."
Discussion. 1. What lines in the poem are explained by the historical
note above? 2. The poem expresses the love and reverence felt by
patriots when the flag is endangered by the attacks of armed men in
war. What is said on page 84 about the danger to our country in a
time of peace? From what people? Can you do anything to prevent this
danger? 3. Where was the reflection of the flag seen? 4. What is
the meaning of "thus" in line 1, page 105? 5. What land is the
"heav'n-rescued land"? 6. What does the poet mean when he speaks of
the "Power that hath made and preserved us a nation," line 4, page
105? 7. Find the words that must be our country's motto. 8. Do you
think this national song cheered the American soldiers in the recent
World War? 9. Explain why you think the picture on page 98 aptly
illustrates "Our Country and Its Flag." 10. Find in the Glossary
the meaning of: dawn; gleaming; host; discloses; beam; triumph. 11.
Pronounce: haughty; vauntingly; pollution; hireling; desolation.
Phrases for Study
proudly we hailed, fitfully blows, gallantly streaming, catches the
gleam, Star-Spangled, full glory reflected, mists of the deep, havoc
of war, dread silence reposes, foul footsteps' pollution.
THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN
ELBRIDGE S. BROOKS
The future president of the United States was eight years old when
he spent the winter with his father, mother, and sister in the
"half-faced camp" on Little Pigeon Creek. It was indeed rough living
in the Lincoln home on Little Pigeon Creek. When he was "good and
ready," the father, Thomas Lincoln, set about building a better
shelter for his family than the forlorn "half-faced camp." The new
building was not such a great improvement, but it was more like a
house. It was a rough cabin of logs, without door, window, or floor.
But it seemed so much better than the shanty in which they had been
living that Abraham felt quite princely.
His life was lonely enough in that wilderness; but, before many
months, he had company. His Uncle and Aunt Sparrow and his boy
cousin, Dennis Hanks came from Kentucky to try their luck in Indiana.
Abraham's father gave them the old "half-faced camp" as a home, and so
the Lincolns had near neighbors.
But before the winter set in, there came sad days to both houses. A
terrible sickness--what we call an epidemic--visited that section of
Indiana. Many people died from it, and among these were first, Uncle
and Aunt Sparrow, and then Mrs. Lincoln, the mother of Abraham.
It was a poor kind of housekeeping they had in that shiftless home on
Little Pigeon Creek after the mother of the home had been taken away.
Sarah, the eldest child, was only twelve; Abraham was but ten, and
little Dennis Hanks was eight. Sarah tried to keep house; and her
father, in his careless way, tried to help her. But about all they
could do was to keep from going hungry. Deer-meat broiled on the coals
of the wood-fire, ash-cakes made of cornmeal, with now and then a slab
of pork, was their only bill of fare. About all the pleasure Abraham
found when he was not trying to keep from being cold and hungry, was
in his books.
How many do you think he had? Just three: the Bible, Aesop's Fables,
and The Pilgrim's Progress. Think of that, you boys and girls who have
more books than you can read, and for whom the printing presses are
always hard at work. The boy knew these three books almost by heart.
He could repeat whole chapters of the Bible, many parts of The
Pilgrim's Progress, and every one of Aesop's Fables; and he never
forgot them.
Thomas Lincoln knew that the uncomfortable state of affairs in his log
cabin could not long continue, or his home, such as it was, would go
to ruin. So one day he bade the children good-by and told them he was
going back to Kentucky on a visit. He was away for three weeks; but
when he returned from his Kentucky visit in December, 1819, he
brought back a new wife to look after his home and be a mother to his
motherless children.
Mrs. Lincoln seemed to take an especial liking to the little
ten-year-old Abraham. She saw something in the boy that made her feel
sure that a little guidance would do wonders for him. Having first
made him clean and comfortable, she next made him intelligent, bright,
and good. She managed to send him to school for a few months. The
little log schoolhouse, close to the meeting-house, to which the
traveling schoolmaster would come to give four weeks' schooling, was
scarcely high enough for a man to stand straight in; it had holes for
windows and greased paper to take the place of glass. But in such a
place Abraham Lincoln "got his schooling" for a few weeks only in
"reading, writing, and ciphering"; here he was again and again head of
his class; and here he "spelled down" all the big boys and girls in
the exciting contests called "spelling matches."
He became a great reader. He read every book and newspaper he could
get hold of, and if he came across anything in his reading that he
wished to remember, he would copy it on a shingle, because writing
paper was scarce, and either learn it by heart or hide the shingle
away until he could get some paper to copy it on.
Lamps and candles were almost unknown in his home, and Abraham, flat
on his stomach, would often do his reading, writing, and ciphering in
the firelight, as it flashed and flickered on the big hearth of his
log-cabin home.
One day Abraham found that a man for whom he sometimes worked owned a
copy of Weems's Life of Washington. This was a famous book in its day.
Abraham borrowed it at once. When he was not reading it, he put it
away on a shelf--a clapboard resting on wooden pins. There was a big
crack between the log behind the shelf, and one rainy day the Life of
Washington fell into the crack and was soaked almost into pulp. Young
Abraham went at once to the owner of the book and, after telling him
of the accident promised to "work the book out."
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