Michael Goes Climbing

Two women stood talking in the sunlit streets of old flushing* three hundred

years ago.

They were talking, as their descendents

do today, of their children, of their husbands’

wages, of the price of food. Suddenly one of

them broke off and, pointing to a little boy

cried, “Ah, there goes that Michael! I can

hardly keep my hands off that little rascal!”.

“Why?” asked the other turning to look

at a lively little boy who walked past with

his hands in his pockets.

“I never saw such a spoiled, proud and

useless rascal of a boy in my life! Cried the

first. “He is never happy unless he’s making

mischief or doing something to call attention

to himself. He must always be the first. He’ll

come to a bad end, and I hope I shall live to

see it.”

The other woman thought for a while. She said, “Ah well, daring some-

times turns to courage.

He’s a bold little rascal; he’ll never make a poor, respectable citizen like

his father; he’ll go far but whether on the right road or the wrong one, who can

tell yet?”

Meanwhile the boy had passed on into the market place. He was idling

about in the sunshine on the look out for mischief. All at once he saw it calling to

him. Workmen had been salting* the church spire, and their ladders starched

invitingly from earth to steeple.

II

All children like climbing up into high places to see if the world looks any

different from an apple tree or a housetop; over and above this love of climbing

Michael had, as the woman said, an argue to think that had never been done

before. As he gazed at the spire, an idea leaped into his mind – he would the first

person in Flushing to stand on the golden ball beneath the weather-vane.

He turned his eyes around. No one was looking Michael began to climb up

the ladders. At the top of the tower there rose a slated spire, crowned by a

golden ball and weather vane. Michael at the last found himself sitting on the top

of the ball, holding on by the van. He was hot, out of breath and not a little giddy.

Presently he heard workmen moving below. He did not bend over to look,

or speak. He was not going to be pulled before Flushing had been seen him. He

died away, and Michael sat resting.

At last he felt ready to give the town a surprise. He pulled himself to his

feet, and, keeping firm hold of the weather vane, managed to stand on the top of

the ball. It was well that he had a cool head and iron nerves.

Someone must have looked at the vane by chance and seen his little figure

outlined against the blue sky and cried out .In a minute or two Michael was

delighted to see the market place full of people who had rushed out of their

shops and houses to gaze at the giddy sight. It was wonderful have all those eyes

and hearts fixed upon oneself !

III

But Michael did not intend to stay there until he was taken down, to be

handed over his father and punished before the crowd. After a little he prepared

to descend of his own free will.

He learned over the ball. The ladder had gone. The workmen had taken it

away!

A sudden feeling of sickness and giddiness came over Michael. He mas-

tered it. No doubt the people saw what had happened and would send for the

ladders.

But to wait for rescue was a poor sort of end to his mischievous adventure.

He would come down alone, even if it coast cost him his life.

The spire at the base of the ball was only half slated. And Michael saw

some hope of gaining a foothold on the old part. He put his arms round the top of

the ball and left his body swing down; he was just able to feel the first slate with

his toes. Those to d were sod with iron toecaps, for Michael was hard in his

shoes. Michael kicked with his armoured toes till the slate broke and fell in; then

he got a foothold on the wooden laths beneath. *

He rested for a minute, with aching arms and a stiff body. He could not slide

down with his arms around the ball; for the middle of the ball was much too big

for his arms. He must let go his hold on the ball, and some how grasp the spire

below. One false movement, and he would be thrown to his death on the hard

ground below.

Slowly he begins to slide his hands together at the top of the ball, and then

downwards over its sides. Every inch is packed with peril; every inch pushed

him backward toward death. It seemed to him that he would be too weak to hold

on when the time came for him to grasp the spire.

But at last the steady, deadly creeping of his figures brought him to a point

where he could bend forward. With a sudden snatch he caught the base of the

ball.

IV

The next moment he was kicking out a stairway in the old slates on the

spire, and climbing down rapidly. He reached the foot of the spire, lifted the

trapdoor* of the tower, ran down the steps, and was caught by his father in the

church.

The streets were filled with white-faced people telling each other that never

in their lives had they seen anything so dreadful as that child leaning backward

in the air.

“ I said he’d come to a bad end!” cried a woman, wiping the moisture from

her forehead with a trembling hand.

“Wait and see!” replied her neighbor.

They waited. Michael took care to maintain his reputation for mischief,

until his father lost all hope for him and sent him to sea. Suddenly he grew tiered

of the wrong road and determined to give the right one a trial. As the women had

foreseen, he marched down it with the same courage and determination.

***

One day an old woman visited her bedridden neighbor. “ Have you heard

the news?” she cried. “The English fleet has been destroyed off Chatham. What

a victory for little neighbour? Do you remembered the day be climbed the church

spire? Who could have guessed then that whole world would ring with the name

of Admiral Michael Adrianzoon de Ruyter?”

(Adapted from The Children’s Encyclopedia)

Note – During the 17th century the English and the Dutch often fought

against each other on the high seas. There were great seamen on both sides.

As the Admiral of the Dutch Navy, de Ruyter won several victories over the

English. There was great fear in London on one occasion when he sailed up

the Thames victoriously. He is considered the greatest seaman ever produced

by Holland and one forth greatest ever in the world. You may be interested to

now that as a young man de Ruyter came to India with the Dutch merchantships.

*A town in Holland

*Covering the spire with pieces of slate.

* The slates were fixed on a framework of wooden laths. When the slates were broken the

laths would appear.

*A door in the roof.

The Glorious Whitewasher

[This story is an incident in The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, by Mark Twain.

Tom has been troublesome at home; moreover, after playing and fighting

with the other boy he had came home late at night. His aunt saw the state of

his clothes and decided to turn it Saturday holiday into a day of hard labour.]

I

Saturday morning came, and all the summer world was bright and fresh and

full of life. There was a song in every heart and cheerfulness in every face. The

hill beyond the village was covered with summer green and it lay just far to

seem enough a wonderland of joy-dreamy, restful, and inviting.

Tom appeared on the pavement with a bucket of whitewash and a

long-handled brush. He surveyed the fence, and at the uninspiring sight all

gladness left him, and a deep sadness settled down on his spirit. Thirty yards of

broad fence nine feet high. Life to him, seemed hollow, and existence a burden.

Sighing, he dipped his brush and passed it along the topmost plank, repeated the

action, did it again, compared the insignificant bit of whitewashed space with

the far-reaching continent of unwhitewashed fence, and sat down on a tree-box,

discouraged. He began to think of the fun he had planned for this day, and his

sorrows multiplied. Soon the free boys would come tripping along on all sports

of interesting adventure, and they would ridicule him for having to work. The

very thought of it burnt him like fire. He got out his worldly wealth and examined

it bits of toys, marbles, all worthless things. They were enough to buy an ex-

change of work, may be, not enough to buy half an hour of pure freedom. So he

put them back into his pocket and gave up the idea of trying to buy the toys. At

this dark and hopeless moment an inspiration burst on him nothing less than a

great, magnificent idea.

II

He took up his brush and calmly resumed work. Ben Rogers came into view

presently –the very boy of all boys whose ridicule he had been dreading. Ben

was eating an apple, and seemed to be in high spirits. Tom went on dipping the

brush into the bucket and whitewashing, and paid no attention to Ben. Ben con-

templated him for a moment and then said, “Hi-yi! You are in trouble, aren’t

you?”

No answer! Tom surveyed his last touch with the eye of an artist, gave his

brush another gentle sweep, and surveyed the result as before. Ben went up and

stood by the side of Tom. Tom’s mouth watered for the apple but he stuck to his

work.

Ben said, “Hello, you’ve got to work, hey?”

Tom turned round suddenly and said, “Why, it’s you, Ben? I wasn’t

noticing.”

“I am going swimming, Tom,” said Ben. “Don’t you wish you could? But of

course you prefer to work”.

“Why, isn’t that work?”

Tom resumed his whitewashing and answered carelessly, “Well, may

be it is and may it isn’t. All I know is, it suits Tom Sawyer.”

Now, you don’t mean to say, Tom, that you like it

The brush continued to move. “Like it? Said Tom. “Well, I don’t see why I

ought not to like it.

Does a boy get a chance to whitewash a fence every day?”

III

That put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped eating his apple. Tom swept

his brush back and forth softly like an artist-stepped back to note the effect again,

while Ben watched every movement and got more and more absorbed. Presently

he said, “Tom, let me whitewash a little.”

Tom considered, and was about to consent; but he changed his mind. “No-

no-I suppose it would hardly do, Ben,” he said. “You see, Aunt Polly is awfully

particular about this fence; it has got to be very carefully; I supposed there isn’t

one boy in a thousand, may be two thousand, that can do the right way.”

“No- is that so? Oh come now –lemme* just try-Only just a little-I’d let you

if you were me. Tom.”

“Ben, I would like to, honestly; but would Aunt Poly like it? Well, Jim

wanted to do it, but she wouldn’t let him; she wanted to do it, and she wouldn’t

let Sid. You see this is the front fence and Aunt Poly is awfully particular about

it. Now don’t you see how I’m caught? If you were to try whitewashing this

fence and anything was to happen to it....”

“Oh! Come, I’ll be just as careful. Now lemme try. I’ll give you half my

apple.”

“Well, here, take this.... No, sorry, I can’t let you. I am afraid.......”

IV

“I’ll give you all of it.”

Tom gave up the brush, pretending to do so half-heartedly. And while Ben

worked and sweated in the sun, the retired artist sat on a barrel swinging his

legs, eating his apple, and lying plots to take in other boys.

Boys came along every little while; that came to laugh, but remained to

whitewash. By the time Ben was tired out, Tom had sold the next chance to Billy

Fisher for a kit in good repair. And when he was out, Johny bought the next time

chance for a dead rat and a string to swing it with, and so on and so on, hour after

hour. And when the middle of the afternoon came, Tom was just rolling in wealth.

He had, in addition to the things mentioned, twelve marbles, a piece of blue

bottle glass to look through, a key that wouldn’t unlock anything, a piece of

chalk, a tin soldier, six fire-crackers, a kitten with only one eye, a dog-collar-but

no dog-the handle of a knife, and a number of other things of the kind. While

others bore his burdens for him, he had a nice, good, idle time all the while-

plenty of company-and the fence had three coats of whitewash on it. It was just

magnificent! If he had not run out of whitewash he would have ruined every bit

in the village.

Tom said to himself that it was not such a hollow world after all. He had

discovered a great law of human action without knowing it –namely, that in

order to make a man or boy desire a thing it is only necessary to make the thing

difficult to obtain. The boy contemplated with pleasure the possessions that has

come into his hands, and then got up and walked home to report.

“It’s all done, Aunt, the whole fence,” he said to his aunt.

“Tom, I hate your lying so,” said Aunt Polly and marched out to see for

herself.

“Oh, Tom,” she said in surprise when she saw the fence, “you can work

when you want to, only you hardly ever want to,” She took him home and gave

him the best apple she had, and allowed him to go and play.

The country of the blind – I

*Adapted from the story by H.G. Wells.

I

Three hundred miles and more from Chimborazo, in the wildest wastes of

the Andes in Equador, there lies that mysterious mountain valley cut off from the

world of men, called the Country of the Blind.

Long ago the valley was connected to the outside world by a difficult moun-

tain pass, and some people from Peru settled down in the valley. It had all that

the heart of man could desire: sweet water, rich green pasture, plentiful trees

and a fine climate. The settlers did very well indeed up there and their cattle and

sheep did well and multiplied. But one thing their happiness, and spoiled it

greatly. A strange disease came upon them-they all began to lose their sight

gradually. The children born to them were born blind.

While this was happening, there came a terrible earth-quake and landslide.

One whole side of the mountain slipped and came down with a tremendous

noise and filled up the mountain pass, cutting off the little green valley forever

from the exploring feet of men.

II

The strange disease ran its course among the little population of the iso-

lated valley. But life was very easy in that valley, there beings no thorns, snakes,

or wild animals to harm them; and the seeing had become blind so gradually that

they scarcely noticed their loss and easily got accustomed to the new life. They

guided the sightless youngsters here and there until knew the whole valley

marvelously, and when at last sight died out aming them, the race lived on.

Generation followed generation. Their tradition of the greater world they

had come from gradually and became a mere children’s tale. The little commu-

nity grew and developed its own way of life. There came a time when child was

born who was fifteen generations from the time of the earthquake and landslide.

At about this time it chanced that a man came into this community from the

world. This is the story of that man; his name was Nunez.

Nunez was a mountaineer, an intelligent and adventurous sort of man; he

was from Bogota near Quito. He was acting as guide to a party of Englishmen

who had out to Equador to climb the mountains .One night he was found missing

from the camp. In the morning the party saw the traces of his fall. His track went

straight to the edge of a frightful precipice, and beyond it every thing was hid-

den. Shaken by the disaster, the party gave up the trip and returned to Quito.

But the man who had fallen lived.

He fell the precipice into a mass of soft snow, lid down a steep slope

unconscious, but without a bone broken in his body. Then he rolled down gentler

slopes, and at last still, half buried in the masses of soft snow that had saved

him.

III

In the morning he heard the singing of the birds in the trees far below. He

was in a pass between the mountains; and far below he saw green meadows and

in their midst a village, a group of stone huts built in an unfamiliar fashion. He

slowly climbed down precipices and walked down slopes, and at about midday

came to the plain, stiff and tired out. He sat down rested in the shadow of a rock.

As he looked at the village, there seem to be something extraordinary and

unfamiliar about it. Things looked surprisingly neat and orderly in the valley; the

house in the village stood in a regular line on either side of a street of extraordi-

nary neatness. But not a single house had a window, and the walls of the houses

were painted in different colours with extreme irregularity. They were grey in

some places, brown or black in others.

“The good man who painted these walls,” said Nunez to himself, “must

have been absolutely blind!” As he went towards the village, he could see at a

distance a number of men and women resting on piled hips of grass, and nearer

the village, a number of sleeping children. Three men walking one behind and

other were carrying buckets of water. Nunez shouted to them. They stopped and

turned their heads this way and that, as if they were looking about them. Nunez

waved his arms at them, but this scarcely seemed to have any effect on them

“The fools must be blind,” said Nunez to himself. Nunez went nearer, and now

he could plainly see that the men were blind .He was sure that this was the

country of blind .All the old legends of the lost valley came back to his mind,

and through his thoughts ran the old proverb: In the Country of the Blind the one

eyed man is King.

IV

Nunez advanced with confidence and greeted them politely. He explained

that he came from the country beyond the mountains where men could see.

“Let us lead him to the elders,”said one of men, and took Nunez by hand to

lead him along. Nunez drew his hands away.

“I can see,” he said.

“See!” said one of then men.

“Yes, see,” said Nunez, turning towards him, and stumbled against one of

the buckets.

“His senses are still imperfect,” said the second blind man. “He stumbles

and talks meaningless words. Lead him by the hand.”

“ As you please,” said Nunez, and was led along laughing.

It seemed they nothing of sight. Well, in course of time he would teach them.

Soon a crowd of men, women and children all with their eyes shut and

sunken, crowded round him folding him and touching him, smelling at him and

listening to his words.

“A wild man out of the rocks,” said his guides to the crowd.

“Bogota,” Nunez explained. “From Bogota, beyond the mountains.”

“A wild man speaking wild words,” said one of his guides. “Did you hear

that –Bogota?”

“Bogota,” repeated the boys in the crowd. That became Nunez’s name in

the Country of Blind.

“Take him to the elders,” said some one in the crowd. They pushed him

suddenly through a doorway in to a rook black as night. Before he could stop

himself he stumbled over the feet of a seated man and fell. He threw out his arm

as he fell, and it struck someone’s face. He heard a cry of anger and a number of

hands seized him. First he struggled, and then finding it useless, he lay quite.

“ I fell down,” he said. “I could not see in this black darkness.”

“He stumbles and talk meaningless.” One of his guides explained.

V

Nunez heard the voice of an older man question him. He found himself

trying to explain the great world out of which he had fallen, ant the sky; and the

mountains and sight, and such other marvels to these elders who sat in the dark-

ness in the Country of the Blind. But they would believe or understand nothing of

what he told them. During the long years of isolation the names for the thing s of

sight had faded and changed in their language, and they had ceased to interest

themselves in anything beyond the rocky slopes above their village .As for Nunez,

they dismissed his words as the confused speech of a being with imperfect senses.

But they were very sympathetic about his difficulties, and asked him to have

courage and try to learn.

The eldest of the blind men explained to him life and science and religion

.He told him that time was divided into ‘the warm’ and ‘the cold’ (that is how

they distinguished between day and night); it was goods to sleep in ‘the warm’

and work in ‘the cold’. Nunez remembered how, although he had arrived at

midday, he had found the whole village asleep. Then the old man said that it was

late and that they must all retire to bed .He asked Nunez if he knew how to sleep.

Nunez said he did, but before sleep he wanted food.

They brought him llama’s milk in a bowl, and rough, salted bread, and led

him into a lonely place to eat. Afterwards they all retired to bed till the cold

mountain evening woke them to begin their ‘day’ again.

The country of the blind – II

I

The days passed by, and Nunez was still far from being king of the blind. In

spite of his best efforts, he did not succeed in making the blind men understand

the marvel of sight. “What is blind?” they would ask carelessly. “There is no

such word as see,” They would say. Nunez still hopes to show them the practical

value of sight. Here again, he was far from being successful, because in spite of

their blindness they were far superior to him in all matters relating to life in the

valley. They were about their little world with perfect ease and confidence; and

they could work at night while Nunez could not. They had highly sensitive

hearing and smell; a dozen steps away could hear Nunez’s slightest movements.

They came to regard him a clumsy and foolish person who had to be taught, and

laughed at his claims to superiority.

One day he seized his spade, ready to hit one or two of them and so show

the superiority of a man who could see him. But then he could not bring himself

to hit a blind man in cold blood. He stood hesitating. In a moment the blind men

knew that he had snatched up the spade.

“Put the spade down, Bogota,” said one of them. Sudden fear seized Nunez.

He turned and ran across a meadow living a track in the grass. With a sure sense

the blind men ran after him, bending down and feeling their way along the track.

He called out a loud, “look here, I am going to do what I like in this valley.

Do you hear? I am going to do what I like and go where I like!”

“Put down that spade, Bogota, and come of the grass!” said one. They ran to

him from all sides.

“I’ll hurt you; leave me alone,” Nunez cried, spade in hand, trying them,

because he really hated to have to hit a blind man. But they closed in on him;

down came his spade and a blind man fell down Nunez ran, not knowing where.

The blind man followed him. He ran on him and on, and got beyond the valley

and upon the rocks. There he stayed for two days and nights without food or

shelter. On the second day, he began to tremble with cold and he felt afraid.

Finally he came down and talked to the blind men.

“I was mad. You know my mind is yet unformed.”

“Do you think you can still see?”

“No, that was foolishness. The word means nothing.” Then he burst into

tears and said, “Before you ask me anything more, give me some food, or shall I

die.”

II

He expected dreadful punishments, but the blind people regarded his rebel-

lion nearly as one more proof of his stupidity and inferiority. They only whipped

him and set him to do the simplest and heaviest work they had for any one to do;

and he, seen no other way of leaving, did what he was told.

So Nunez became a citizen of the country of the blind, and the world beyond

began to fade his mind slowly. He became familiar with many of the people of

the valley. There was Yacob, his master; there was Pedro, Yacob’s youngest

daughter. The young man of the valley did not care for her, because she had a

clear-cut face and lacked the satisfying smoothness that was their idea of beauty;

but Nunez thought her beautiful at first, and then the most beautiful thing in the

whole creation.

He watched for her he saw opportunities of doing a little service. Once at a

holiday gathering they sat side by side in the starlight, and the music was sweet.

He held her hand very tenderly.

Soon in many little ways he knew that she cared for him.

He went to her one day when she was sitting in the summer moonlight,

spinning. The light made her a thing of silver and mystery. He sat down at her

feet, and, in a tender voice, told her how he loved her and how beautiful she

seemed to him. She gave him no clear reply, but he was sure his words pleased

her. After that they were often together. Timidly, and with hesitation, and he

talked to her of sight. She seemed mysteriously delighted and it seemed to him

that she completely understood.

III

He took courage, and proposed to her. Then he asked Yacob and the elders

for permission to marry her. From the first there was great opposition the mar-

riage. Old Yacob shook his head when the proposal was mentioned to him.

“Listen, my dear,” he said to his daughter, “he is a stupid fellow, and idiot.

He was a very peculiar, and can’t do anything right.”

“I know,” wept medina-sarote; “but he is better than he was. And he’s strong,

dear father, and a kind-stronger and kinder than any other men in the world. And

he loves me-and, father, I love him.”

Old Yacob had tenderness for his youngest daughter. Besides, he liked his

servant, Nunez, in spite of his stupidity. So he went and sat in the windowless

council chamber and discussed the matter with him. They talked for a long time;

finally one of the elder, who thought deeply, has an idea. This man was the great

doctor among these people and a thinker with an inventive mind. He proposed a

plan for curing Nunez of his peculiarities. He said,” the particular soft organs,

the chances are that he will get completely well and become quite an admirable

citizen.”

“Thank God for science!” said old Yacob, and went immediately to tell

Nunez of his happy hopes. But to his surprise, Nunez received the news rather

coldly.

“My world is sight,” he said to medina-sarote. “There are the beautiful

things,” he continued, “The little flowers, the trees and the far sky with the woolly

clouds floating. And there is you. For you alone it is good to have eyes! You

don’t want me to loose my sight, do you?” Hesitating she said, “I know it is

pretty, this talk about sight-it’s your imagination; I love it but now....” She paused.

He saw that she was struggling to say what she has in mind. He was full of pity

for her lack of understanding. Put his arms around her and they sat for a time in

silence.

“If I were to consent to this?” he said at last.

“Oh, if you would!” she said, crying wildly. “If only you would!”

For her sake he consented in the end.

IV

For a week before the operation that was to removed his inferiority and

raise him to the level of a blind citizen, Nunez knew nothing of sleep. He had

given his consent, and still was unhappy. The week passed. The sun rose and his

last day of vision began for him. He had a few minutes with Medina-sarote

before she went to bed.

“Tomorrow,” he said, “I shall see no more.”

“Dear heart!” she said, “You are going through it for my sake.”

He looked at her tender face for the last time.

“Good bye,” he whispered, “Good-bye.”

She could hear his footsteps as he went away. Something in their sound

made her burst into tears. And she cried like little child.

At first his idea go to a lonely place, and remain there till the time for the

operation came; but as he went, he lifted up his eye and saw the morning like an

angle in golden armour, marching down the hillside ...He went forward looking

at the glorious sight, passed beyond the valley and out upon the rocks, and his

eyes, were always upon the sunlit ice and snow.

He thought of that great free world he was parted from, the world that was

his own hills and valleys and plains, and Bogota, his home town, with its places

and white houses .He thought of the vaster world beyond, forests and rivers and

desert places, and the limitless sea with its ships sailing round the world. And

there one could see the sky, not such a disc as one saw it here, but an arch of

immeasurable blue in which the circling stars were floating.

His eyes examined the great curtain of the mountains carefully. Was there a

way out? If he went up that narrow mountain pass, he might come out high among

those short pine trees. And then? Then he might find a way around that precipice

and he would be out upon the bight snow, half way up those beautiful mountains

.He looked back at the village .He thought of Medina-sarote, but now she had

became small and unimportant to him. He turned his eyes again toward the moun-

tain wall with the light of the sun on it. Then very carefully he began to climb.

When sunset came he was no longer climbing, but he was no longer

climbing, but he was far and high. His hands and legs were stiff and blood-

stained, but he lay at his ease there was a smile on his face .He lay quite inactive

there, smiling as if he was satisfied merely to have escaped from the valley of

the blind where he was thought to be the King.

The sunset in bright red, and the night came, and still he lay peacefully

contented under the cold stars.

Gulliver in Lilliput – I

Gulliver, the doctor of an English ship wrecked in the Atlantic and is

thrown up on the island of Lilliput, inhabited by a race of little people not

more than six inches tall. He is tied up and made prisoner by Lilliputians, but

later they come to trust him, and set him free. Our story takes place soon after

this.

In a later adventure Gulliver visits a land of giants twelve times as tall as

himself. You can read the complete story in Gulliver’s travels, by Jonathan

Swift.

I

One morning, two weeks after I had obtained my freedom, Reldresal, the

Chief Secretary for Private affairs, came to my house, attended only by one

servant. He wanted to have a private conversation with me, because he had been

sent by the Emperor to discuss with me some important problems of state. I

received him with honour and offered to lie down so that he could conveniently

speak to me; but he preferred to let me hold him in my hand during our

conversation.

He congratulated me on my freedom, and added that I had obtained it so

soon partly on account of the many difficult internal and external problems that

faced the state just then. It was thought that if I was released, I might be of help to

the state in solving them.

Reldresal told me that Lilliputians were divided into two parties called

High Heels and Low Heels, according to the high or low heels of their shoes,

which distinguished one party from the other. They opposed each other bitterly,

and hated each other so much that the members of one party would hardly eat,

drink or talk with those of the other. Although the High Heels were more numerous

than Low Heels, His Majesty the Emperor was in favour of Low Heels, and

himself wore low heels only. So the Government was in their hands now. Reldresal

himself was a member of the Low Heels party. They feared, however, that the

young Prince was sympathetic to the High Heels; at least, it was clear that one of

his heels was higher than the other; and that gave him a limp in his walking.

II

To add to their problem, they now had to face a great external danger. The

country was threatened with an invasion from Blefuscu, which, Reldresal told

me, was the other great empire of the Universe. As for my report that there were

other regions in the world inhabited by men like myself, he hardly believed it;

according to their scientists and historians Lilliput and Blefuscu were the two

great regions of the Universe. These mighty powers had been engaged in a bloody

war for thirty-six ‘moons’*. The war began about a question of religious principle,

namely, whether one should break an egg at the bigger end or at the smaller end.

The anvcient practice of course was to break it at the bigger end. But the present

Emperor’s grandfather, when he was a boy, happened to cut one of his fingers

when breaking an egg at the bigger end. So the Emperor, his father, published an

order prohibiting the practice of breaking eggs at the bigger end. There was

bigger opposition to the new law, and there were frequent rebellions on the

account of it; one emperor lost his life, and another his crown, in these rebellions.

Many hundred books were published about the question, but people were

prohibited from reading the books of the Big Indians. At least 11,000 people

suffered death at various times because they preferred death to dishonour. Many

rebels escaped to Blefuscu; the Emperor of Blefuscu gave them his sympathy

and encouragement, thus interfering in the internal affairs of Lilliput. He frequently

charged the Lilliputian Emperor with causing a division in religion by encouraging

people to disobey a basic teaching of their ancient religion, which is given in the

54th chapter of their holy book: ‘All believers shall break eggs at the convenient

end’ But Reldresal thought that his charge was baseless, for, which was the

convenient end was a question for each man to decide according to his conscience.

The two empires were engaged in a war over this question and there were frequent

battles. Just now the men of Blefuscu were intending to invade Lilliput. The

scouts sent out by Lilliput had reported that a fleet was getting ready to start. In

this situation the Emperor wanted my help in defending Lilliput against the

invaders.

I avoided entering into a discussion of their party questions or religious

principles with Reldresal. I told him that as a foreigner I had no right to interfere

in them. But I asked him to tell the Emperor that I was his loyal soldier, ready to

defend his honour and the honour of the country in case there was an invasion.

*Lilliputians used a smaller time scale than we do. “A moon” is 28 days or

about 12th part of a year.

Gulliver in Lilliput – II

I

The empire of Blefuscu is an island situated to the north-east of Lilliput. It

is separated from Lilliput by a channel about 800 metres wide. I had not seen

Blefuscu, and now I avoided appearing on that side of the coast in case the

enemy should see me. So far they had no news of me.

Our scouts reported that the enemy fleet lay at anchor in the harbour, ready

to start with the first favourable wind. I walked to the north-east coast and hiding

myself behind a small hill, in case the enemy should see me I looked at their

ships through my field glasses. I distinguished at least fifty warships and a great

number of other ships for transporting men and supplies. I formed a plan to

capture the warships. I got the advice of the mast experienced seamen of Lilliput,

who told me that the channel was about five feet deep in most places and no

where more than six. I ordered a great quantity of the strongest cable and bars of

iron. The cable was as thick as pack-thread, and the bars were of the size of

knitting-needles. I twisted the cables together and made fifty strong cards. Then I

made fifty hooks by twisting three bars together at a time, and fastened the hooks

carefully to the cords.

II

While I was engaged in this work, the men of Blefuscu shot at me several

thousands arrows as big as knitting-needles; many of them stuck in my hands and

face and gave me sharp pain. I quickly took out my eye-glasses and put them on

in case the arrows should strike my eyes and went on with my work.

When I had fastened the hooks to the prows of all the warships, I tied their

ends together into a knot. Taking the knotted end in my hand, I pulled; but not a

ship moved, for they were all held fast by their anchors. So I let go the cords

again, and with ease drew after me the entire fleet of the enemy.

When the men of Blefuscu saw this, they shouted in despair; at first they had

not guessed my intention. When I was out of danger I stopped a while to pull out

the arrows that stuck in my face. I rubbed on an ointment that the Lilliputians had

given me for the purpose, and it relieved the pain at once.

The Emperor of Lilliput, attended by all his court, was waiting on the shore

to see the outcome of this great adventure. They saw the entire fleet advance in

the shape of a large half moon but could not distinguish me because I was up to

my neck in water. So they thought that I had been drowned and that the enemy

fleet was advancing for battle. They felt greatly relieved when they saw me. I

held up my hand from the water and cried in a loud voice, “Long live the most

mighty Emperor of Lilliput!” The Emperor received me with honour and made

me Great lord on the spot.

The Tempest - I

[The Tempest is the name of a play written by Shakespeare. You can read

the stories of many Shakespearean plays in the Tales from Shakespeare by

Charles and Mary Lamb.]

I

On a lonely island in the sea there once

lived three people, a wise old man named

Prospero, his beautiful young daughter Miranda,

and their servant Caliban. Father and daughter

had come to the island twelve years before,

when Miranda was a mere baby. She could

hardly remember having seen any human face

except her father’s. As far Caliban, he hardly

looked more like a fish than a man.

Prospero had another servant, a spirit

named Ariel, whom he commanded by means

of his magic. Before Prospero’s arrival there

lived on the island a witch named Sycorax; the ugly Caliban was her son. She

imprisoned Ariel in the heart of a pine tree and she died without releasing him.

Prospero, on his arrival on the island found him and released him. Ariel became

Prospero’s faithful servant and carried out his master’s wishes. At Prospero’s

faithful command he would raise storms in the sea or make thunder in the air.

II

One day there arose a terrible storm in the sea. As Miranda looked out, she

saw a fine ship struggling in the midst of the storm.

“O father,” she said, “if you have, by your own power, raised this tempest;

please put an end to it. What a fine ship is there, struggling in the cruel waves!

The cries of the drowning sailors seem to knock against my very heart.”

“Do not be afraid,” replied Prospero. “Not a single person shall perish. As

for the storm, I have raised it for your sake. I have done it for you, my beloved

daughter, You do not know who you are.”

Now for the first time Prospero told Miranda the strange story of her life.

“Twelve years ago,” he said, “I was Duke of Milan. Knowledge was my chief

aim in life; wealth and worldly possessions hardly mattered to me. Leaving the

management of state affairs to my brother Antonio, whose loyalty I never doubted,

I devoted all my time to secret studies. Meanwhile he grew greedy for power

and possessions; he bribed my ministers and plotted against me with my enemy,

the king of Naples. One dark night their soldiers took me out of my palace, with

you crying in my arms. They did not dare to kill us openly; so they put us into an

old damaged ship that could hardly float, and left us to perish at sea. But there

was a kind old lord named Gonzalo; he was loyal to me at heart and was not in

favour of Antonio’s plot. He secretly stored the ship with fresh water, food and

clothes, and my precious books, which I valued more than my dukedom. Driven

by favourable winds, we floated to this lonely island.”

“But what is your reason for raising this tempest?” asked Miranda, who

was still thinking of the drowning sailors.

“Fortune has now begun to favour me,” replied Prospero. “The tempest

has, in a strange manner, brought all my enemies to this island; they are in the

ship you see. For the present it is enough for you to know that much.” Then

Prospero touched Miranda gently with his magic wand, and she fell asleep.

III

“Come, my Ariel,” said Prospero, waving his magic wand. Ariel appeared.

“Here I am, master,” he said. “I am ready to go wherever you ask me to go,

and to do whatever you want.”

“Have you performed the task I gave you?”

“Yes; master. I have done every thing just as you commanded me. I attacked

the ship with storm, fire and thunder, till the sailors gave up in despair. Not a

single person in the ship kept head. The king’s son, Ferdinand, leapt into the sea.

Now he is sitting sadly in a corner of the island, thinking that his father is drowned.

Meanwhile, in another part of the island, the King, your brother, and the others

are looking for Ferdinand, who they fear is drowned. As for the ship, I have

brought it safely to the harbour.”

“You have performed your task perfectly,” said Prospero. “Now we have

some very important work on our hands. The time between now and evening is

precious for both of us.”

“More work? Sir, let me remind you of the promise you gave me, namely, to

give me my freedom.”

“What?” said Prospero angrily? “How dare you ask freedom before the

time out? Where would you be but for me? Have I to remind you how I released

you from the pine tree?”

“I am sorry, master. I will obey you willingly,” said Ariel.

“Good,” said Prospero. “After two days I will set you free; meanwhile

carry out your tasks with good heart.” Then Prospero told him what he should

do. And away went Ariel happily, to the place where Ferdinand sat weeping

over his father’s death.

The Tempest – II

I

Remaining invisible, Ariel sang a beautiful song and led Ferdinand to the

place where Prospero and Miranda were.

“What is that father?” asked Miranda in wonder, when she saw Ferdinand at

a distance. “Is it a spirit? It has a noble and beautiful appearance.” Miranda, as

you know, had not known what a young man looked like and, moreover, Ferdinand

was a handsome young man. When Ferdinand saw Miranda, he thought that she

was the goddess of this island of wonders, where he had just heard Ariel’s

strange-sounding song. He fell on his knees and began to speak to her as to a

goddess. You can imagine his surprise when he heard her say sweetly in his own

language, “Sir, I am no goddess, but a simple girl.”

Prospero was very happy to find that the two young people had fallen in

love with each other at first sight. But in order to test Ferdinand’s love, Prospero

pretended to think that the young man was a spy.

“Come along young man,” he said roughly. “You are spy who has come to

steal this island from me. You are now my prisoner.” Ferdinand tried to resist,

and drew his sword; but waving his wand, Prospero fixed him to the spot by the

power of his magic. Miranda hung upon her father and pleaded for Ferdinand.

“Please do not treat him like that, father. He cannot be a spy. He does not

look like one.”

“Silence,” said Prospero. “Are you trying to teach me? Perhaps you think he

is the handsomest person on earth, because you have seen only Caliban and me.

Compared to Caliban he seems handsome enough, but compared to other men he

is a Caliban!”

“Then my desires are most humble,” replied Miranda. “I do not wish to see

a handsome person.”

“Come along, sir,” Prospero said to Ferdinand, leading him away. Ferdinand

could hardly resist the power of Prospero’s magic, and he had to follow. He said

to himself, “My misfortunes and this unkind treatment would all be nothing to me

if, from my prison window, I could see this girl once a day.”

II

Prospero set him the task of piling up heavy logs. Miranda stole out of her

room to see him at work, and her presence made his labour seem light to him.

“Alas, sir,” she said, “please sit down and rest a little. I will carry your logs

in the mean time. I quite like it. Let me carry the logs; my father is at his studies

safely out of our way for three hours.” In fact Prospero was all the time standing

at a distance, watching his daughter with amusement and sympathy.

“No, my precious creature,” replied Ferdinand, “I can not let you do that!”

Of course this love-talk did not help the work of feeling manage to tell

Miranda how he loved her better than any one else he had ever seen. As for

Miranda, she cannot imagine a person she could loved more.

Prospero decided not to try Ferdinand further, and soon released him for his

hard task.

“The trials you have under gone where it test of your love,” said Prospero,

to the great joy and surprise of Ferdinand. “As your reward I give you my daugh-

ter, who is my most precious possession. My blessings are with you both.”

In the meantime the king of Naples, Antonio, Gonzalo (who was the king’s

party) and others were wandering about on the island. Tired out and hungry, they

sat down to rest. Ariel put inviting food before them, but when they tried to eat it,

it disappeared suddenly. Ariel appeared to them with thunder and lightning. While

they stood amazed at the sight he said to Antonio and the king, “You are two men

guilty before God and man. Think of your evil deeds. Remember how cruely you

treated Prospero and his innocent child. It was a terrible crime. All that you have

undergone is God’s punishment for your crimes. If you do not sincerely repent of

your evil deeds, there is worse in store for you.” Then Ariel disappeared in

thunder and lightning leaving them almost mad with fear and their sense of guilt.

III

“Now that they have sincerely repented, we need not punish them further,”

said Prospero to Ariel. Ariel led them to the place where Prospero was. When

they saw Prospero, they were so amazed that at first they could hardly believe

their eyes. The King agreed to restore the dukedom to Prospero, and Prospero,

on his part, forgave the King all that was past. The King told Prospero how they

had been ship-wrecked and how he had lost Ferdinand, his dear son, in the

wreck.

“I am very sorry to hear of your loss,” said Prospero. “I lost my daughter too

in the tempest.” In a sense Prospero was speaking the truth because he had lost

his daughter to Ferdinand.

“How I wish they were both alive,” said the King, “to be king and queen of

Naples!”

Prospero took the party into his cave and showed them Ferdinand and

Miranda, who were happily playing chess.

“O wonder! Said Miranda when she saw so many people together. “How

many wonderful people there are here! How beautiful mankind is!” Gonzalo, the

kind old man, who had helped Prospero, wept for joy to see this scene of recon-

ciliation.

Prospero broke his magic wand and buried his books of magic because he

had no further use for them. He sat Ariel free as he had promised. Ariel sang:

Where the bee sucks there suck I;

In a cowslip’s bell I lie;

There I couch when owls do cry.

On the bat’s back I do fly

After summer merrily.

Merrily, merrily, shall I live now

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

Prospero and party sailed to Naples leaving Caliban in possession of the

island. Ariel helped them with favourable winds; that was his last service to his

master.