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Since 'tis ask and have, I may —
Since the others ashore
Name and deed alike are lost:
In his Croisic keeps alive the feat as it befell;
bore the bell. Go to Paris: rank on rank
Search the heroes flung pell-mell 135 On the Louvre, face and flank!
You shall look long enough ere you come to Hervé Riel. So, for better and for worse, Herve Riel, accept my verse!
In my verse, Hervé Riel, do thou once more 140 Save the squadron, honor France, love thy wife, the Belle
HELPS FOR STUDY
Why did not the English ships give chase and attempt the sail to St. Malo?
Explain "rocks to starboard, rocks to port."
In what direction does the Rance flow? What, then, is the special force of the expression, “Still the north wind”?
Explain “rampired Solidor.”
In what lines does Hervé Riel use sarcasm?
What is meant by “Search the heroes, flung pell-mell on the Louvre”?
Explain “Praise is deeper than the lips.”
What other heroes do you know of whose deeds of heroism occurred on the ocean?
Name some of the leading admirals of the world.
1 Hogue. May 19, 1692, the English fleet encountered the French fleet off Barfleur. Tourville had command of the French fleet, and Admiral Russell commanded the English fleet. After a fight of five hours the English were victorious, and the French sought shelter, some in Bay of La Hogue and some in Cherbourg. The English followed them, and in the next few days destroyed most of their ships. About twenty of the smaller ships, however, made their escape, and it is this wonderful escape which forms the basis of the poem.
124 Bell Aurore. Beautiful dawn.
132 Bore the bell. Won the day; won the victory. In olden times the prize in many of the races was a small gold or silver bell which was suspended around the neck of the victor.
(The above selections are published in “The Pied Piper, and Other Poems," in the Educational Publishing Company's Fifteen Cent Classic Edition.)
THE GREAT STONE FACE
Nathaniel Hawthorne was born in Salem, Mass., July 4, 1804. His father was a sea captain, and died when his little boy was only four years old. Hawthorne's boyhood was sad and lonely, and as he grew up he had few friends. It is said that he was shy and dreamy, silent and unwilling to talk. In 1821, he entered Bowdoin College and became a member of the same class as Longfellow. Most of his books were written for older people, but he loved children and was glad to write for them. His best known stories for young folks are
Tanglewood Tales," "A Wonder Book,” and Grandfather's Chair." He died at Plymouth, N. H., May 19, 1864.
One afternoon, when the sun was going down, a mother and her little boy sat at the door of their cottage, talking about the Great Stone Face. They had but to lift their
eyes, and there it was plainly to be seen, though miles away, 5 with the sunshine brightening all its features.
And what was the Great Stone Face?
Embosomed amongst a family of lofty mountains, there was a valley so spacious that it contained many thousand
inhabitants. Some of these good people dwelt in log10 huts, with the black forest all around them, on the steep
and difficult hillsides. Others had their homes in comfortable farmhouses, and cultivated the rich soil on the gentle slopes or level surfaces of the valley. Others, again, were
congregated into populous villages, where some wild, 15 highland rivulet, tumbling down from its birthplace in the
upper mountain region, had been caught and tamed by human cunning, and compelled to turn the machinery of cotton factories. The inhabitants of this valley, in short,
were numerous, and of many modes of life. But all of 20 them, grown people and children, had a kind of familiarity with the Great Stone Face, although some possessed the gift of distinguishing this grand natural phenomenon more perfectly then many of their neighbors.
The Great Stone Face, then, was a work of Nature in 5 her mood of majestic playfulness, formed on the perpendicular side of a mountain by some immense rocks, which had been thrown together in such a position as, when viewed at a proper distance, precisely to resemble the
features or the human countenance. It seemed as if an 10 enormous giant, or a Titan, had sculptured his own likeness
on the precipice. There was the broad arch of the forehead, a hundred feet in height; the nose, with its long bridge; and the vast lips, which, if they could have spoken,
would have rolled their thunder accents from one end of 15 the valley to the other. True it is, that if the spectator
approached too near, he lost the outline of the gigantic visage, and could discern only a heap of ponderous and gigantic rocks piled in chaotic ruin one upon another.
Retracing his steps, however, the wondrous features would 20 again be seen; and the further he withdrew from them,
the more like a human face, with all its original divinity intact, did they appear; until, as it grew, dim in the distance, with the clouds and glorified vapor of the mountains
clustering about it, the Great Stone Face seemed positive 25 to be alive.
It was a happy lot for children to grow up to manhood or womanhood with the Great Stone Face before their eyes, for all the features were noble, and the expression was at
once grand and sweet, as if it were the glow of a vast, warm 30 heart, that embraced all mankind in its affections, and had
room for more. It was an education only to look at it. According to the belief of many people, the valley owed much of its fertility to this benign aspect that was con
tinually beaning over it, illuminating the clouds, and 35 infusing its tenderness into the sunshine.
As we began with saying, a mother and her little boy sat at their cottage door, gazing at the Great Stone Face, and talking about it. The child's name was Ernest.
"Mother," said he, while the Titanic visage smiled on 5 him, “I wish that it could speak, for it looks so very kindly that its voice must needs be pleasant. If I were to see a man with such a face, I should love him dearly.”
If an old prophecy should come to pass,” answered his mother, "we may see a man, some time or other, with 10 exactly such a face as that."
“What prophecy do you mean, dear mother?” eagerly inquired Ernest. “Pray tell me all about it.”
So his mother told him a story that her own mother had told to her, when she herself was younger than little Ernest; 15 a story, not of things that were past, but of what was yet
to come; a story, nevertheless, so very old, that even the Indians, who formerly inhabited this valley, had heard it from their forefathers, to whom, as they affirmed, it had
been murmured by the mountain streams, and whispered 20 by the wind among the tree-tops. The purport was,
that, at some future day, a child should be born hereabouts, who was destined to become the greatest and noblest personage of his time, and whose countenance, in manhood,
should bear an exact resemblance to the Great Stone Face. 25 Not a few old-fashioned people, and young ones likewise,
in the ardor of their hopes, still cherished an enduring faith in this old prophecy. But others, who had seen more of the world, had watched and waited till they were weary,
and had beheld no man with such a face, nor any man 30 that proved to be much greater or nobler than his neigh
bors, concluded it to be nothing but an idle tale. At all events, the great man of the prophecy had not yet appeared.
"O mother, dear mother!” cried Ernest, clapping his hands above his head, "I do hope I shall live to see him!" 35 His mother was an affectionate and thoughtful woman,