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King John And The Abbot
The 3 Questions. There was once a king of England whose...

The Endless Tale
In the Far East there was a great king who had no work to d...

Three Men Of Gotham
There is a town in England called Go-tham, and many merry s...

Cornelia's Jewels
It was a bright morning in the old city of Rome many hundre...

The Sword Of Damocles
There was once a king whose name was Di-o-nys'i-us. He was ...

Horatius At The Bridge
Once there was a war between the Roman people and the E-tru...

Other Wise Men Of Gotham
One day, news was brought to Gotham that the king was comin...

Sir Philip Sidney
A cruel battle was being fought. The ground was covered wit...

The Ungrateful Soldier
Here is another story of the bat-tle-field, and it is much ...

King Canute On The Seashore
A hundred years or more after the time of Alfred the Great ...

Diogenes The Wise Man
At Cor-inth, in Greece, there lived a very wise man whose n...

Arnold Winkelried
A great army was marching into Swit-zer-land. If it should ...

Bruce And The Spider
There was once a king of Scot-land whose name was Robert Br...

The Brave Three Hundred
All Greece was in danger. A mighty army, led by the great K...

Alexander And Bucephalus
One day King Philip bought a fine horse called Bu-ceph'a-lu...

The White Ship
King Henry, the Handsome Scholar, had one son, named Willia...

A Story Of Robin Hood
In the rude days of King Rich-ard and King John there were ...

The King And His Hawk
Gen'ghis Khan was a great king and war-rior. He led his ...

Sir Humphrey Gilbert
More than three hundred years ago there lived in England a ...

Casabianca
There was a great battle at sea. One could hear nothing but...



CASABIANCA








There was a great battle at sea. One could hear nothing but the roar
of the big guns. The air was filled with black smoke. The water was
strewn with broken masts and pieces of timber which the cannon balls
had knocked from the ships. Many men had been killed, and many more
had been wounded.

The flag-ship had taken fire. The flames were breaking out from below.
The deck was all ablaze. The men who were left alive made haste to
launch a small boat. They leaped into it, and rowed swiftly away. Any
other place was safer now than on board of that burning ship. There
was powder in the hold.

But the captain's son, young Ca-sa-bi-an'ca, still stood upon the
deck. The flames were almost all around him now; but he would not stir
from his post. His father had bidden him stand there, and he had been
taught always to obey. He trusted in his father's word, and be-lieved
that when the right time came he would tell him to go.

He saw the men leap into the boat. He heard them call to him to come.
He shook his head.

"When father bids me, I will go," he said.

And now the flames were leaping up the masts. The sails were all
ablaze. The fire blew hot upon his cheek. It scorched his hair. It was
before him, behind him, all around him.

"O father!" he cried, "may I not go now? The men have all left the
ship. Is it not time that we too should leave it?"

He did not know that his father was lying in the burning cabin below,
that a cannon ball had struck him dead at the very be-gin-ning of the
fight. He listened to hear his answer.

"Speak louder, father!" he cried. "I cannot hear what you say."

Above the roaring of the flames, above the crashing of the falling
spars, above the booming of the guns, he fancied that his father's
voice came faintly to him through the scorching air.

"I am here, father! Speak once again!" he gasped.

But what is that?

A great flash of light fills the air; clouds of smoke shoot quickly
upward to the sky; and--

"Boom!"

Oh, what a ter-rif-ic sound! Louder than thunder, louder than the roar
of all the guns! The air quivers; the sea itself trembles; the sky is
black.

The blazing ship is seen no more.

There was powder in the hold!

* * * * *

A long time ago a lady, whose name was Mrs. Hemans, wrote a poem about
this brave boy Ca-sa-bi-an-ca. It is not a very well written poem, and
yet everybody has read it, and thousands of people have learned it by
heart. I doubt not but that some day you too will read it. It begins
in this way:--

"The boy stood on the burning deck
Whence all but him had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck
Shone round him o'er the dead.

"Yet beautiful and bright he stood,
As born to rule the storm--
A creature of heroic blood,
A proud though childlike form."





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