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Famous StoriesSocrates And His House
There once lived in Greece a very wise man whose name was S...
The Endless Tale
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The King And His Hawk
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King John And The Abbot
The 3 Questions. There was once a king of England whose...
The Ungrateful Guest
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The Story Of William Tell
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George Washington And His Hatchet
When George Wash-ing-ton was quite a little boy, his father...
Many years ago there was a poor gentleman shut up in one of...
The Story Of Regulus
On the other side of the sea from Rome there was once a gre...
Sir Philip Sidney
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The Sword Of Damocles
There was once a king whose name was Di-o-nys'i-us. He was ...
There was once a kind man whose name was Oliver Gold-smith....
Three Men Of Gotham
There is a town in England called Go-tham, and many merry s...
Damon And Pythias
A young man whose name was Pyth'i-as had done something whi...
The Ungrateful Soldier
Here is another story of the bat-tle-field, and it is much ...
The Black Douglas
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Androclus And The Lion
In Rome there was once a poor slave whose name was An'dro-c...
Here is the story of Mignon as I remember having read it in...
Sir Walter Raleigh
There once lived in England a brave and noble man whose nam...
Bruce And The Spider
There was once a king of Scot-land whose name was Robert Br...
THE BELL OF ATRI
A-tri is the name of a little town in It-a-ly. It is a very old town,
and is built half-way up the side of a steep hill.
A long time ago, the King of Atri bought a fine large bell, and had it
hung up in a tower in the market place. A long rope that reached
almost to the ground was fas-tened to the bell. The smallest child
could ring the bell by pulling upon this rope.
"It is the bell of justice," said the king.
When at last everything was ready, the people of Atri had a great
holiday. All the men and women and children came down to the market
place to look at the bell of justice. It was a very pretty bell, and
was, pol-ished until it looked almost as bright and yellow as the sun.
"How we should like to hear it ring!" they said.
Then the king came down the street.
"Perhaps he will ring it," said the people; and everybody stood very
still, and waited to see what he would do.
But he did not ring the bell. He did not even take the rope in his
hands. When he came to the foot of the tower, he stopped, and raised
"My people," he said, "do you see this beautiful bell? It is your
bell; but it must never be rung except in case of need. If any one of
you is wronged at any time, he may come and ring the bell; and then
the judges shall come together at once, and hear his case, and give
him justice. Rich and poor, old and young, all alike may come; but no
one must touch the rope unless he knows that he has been wronged."
Many years passed by after this. Many times did the bell in the market
place ring out to call the judges together. Many wrongs were righted,
many ill-doers were punished. At last the hempen rope was almost worn
out. The lower part of it was un-twist-ed; some of the strands were
broken; it became so short that only a tall man could reach it.
"This will never do," said the judges one day. "What if a child should
be wronged? It could not ring the bell to let us know it."
They gave orders that a new rope should be put upon the bell at
once,--a rope that should hang down to the ground, so that the
smallest child could reach it. But there was not a rope to be found in
all Atri. They would have to send across the mountains for one, and it
would be many days before it could be brought. What if some great
wrong should be done before it came? How could the judges know about
it, if the in-jured one could not reach the old rope?
"Let me fix it for you," said a man who stood by.
He ran into his garden, which was not far away, and soon came back
with a long grape-vine in his hands.
"This will do for a rope," he said; and he climbed up, and fastened it
to the bell. The slender vine, with its leaves and ten-drils still
upon it, trailed to the ground.
"Yes," said the judges, "it is a very good rope. Let it be as it is."
Now, on the hill-side above the village, there lived a man who had
once been a brave knight. In his youth he had ridden through many
lands, and he had fought in many a battle. His best friend through all
that time had been his horse,--a strong, noble steed that had borne
him safe through many a danger.
But the knight, when he grew older, cared no more to ride into battle;
he cared no more to do brave deeds; he thought of nothing but gold; he
became a miser. At last he sold all that he had, except his horse, and
went to live in a little hut on the hill-side. Day after day he sat
among his money bags, and planned how he might get more gold; and day
after day his horse stood in his bare stall, half-starved, and
shiv-er-ing with cold.
"What is the use of keeping that lazy steed?" said the miser to
himself one morning. "Every week it costs me more to keep him than he
is worth. I might sell him; but there is not a man that wants him. I
cannot even give him away. I will turn him out to shift for himself,
and pick grass by the roadside. If he starves to death, so much the
So the brave old horse was turned out to find what he could among the
rocks on the barren hill-side. Lame and sick, he strolled along the
dusty roads, glad to find a blade of grass or a thistle. The boys
threw stones at him, the dogs barked at him, and in all the world
there was no one to pity him.
One hot afternoon, when no one was upon the street, the horse chanced
to wander into the market place. Not a man nor child was there, for
the heat of the sun had driven them all indoors. The gates were wide
open; the poor beast could roam where he pleased. He saw the
grape-vine rope that hung from the bell of justice. The leaves and
tendrils upon it were still fresh and green, for it had not been there
long. What a fine dinner they would be for a starving horse!
He stretched his thin neck, and took one of the tempting morsels in
his mouth. It was hard to break it from the vine. He pulled at it, and
the great bell above him began to ring. All the people in Atri heard
it. It seemed to say,--
"Some one has done me wrong!
Some one has done me wrong!
Oh! come and judge my case!
Oh! come and judge my case!
For I've been wronged!"
The judges heard it. They put on their robes, and went out through the
hot streets to the market place. They wondered who it could be who
would ring the bell at such a time. When they passed through the gate,
they saw the old horse nibbling at the vine.
"Ha!" cried one, "it is the miser's steed. He has come to call for
justice; for his master, as everybody knows, has treated him most
"He pleads his cause as well as any dumb brute can," said another.
"And he shall have justice!" said the third.
Mean-while a crowd of men and women and children had come into the
market place, eager to learn what cause the judges were about to try.
When they saw the horse, all stood still in wonder. Then every one was
ready to tell how they had seen him wan-der-ing on the hills, unfed,
un-cared for, while his master sat at home counting his bags of gold.
"Go bring the miser before us," said the judges.
And when he came, they bade him stand and hear their judg-ment.
"This horse has served you well for many a year," they said. "He has
saved you from many a peril. He has helped you gain your wealth.
Therefore we order that one half of all your gold shall be set aside
to buy him shelter and food, a green pasture where he may graze, and a
warm stall to comfort him in his old age."
The miser hung his head, and grieved to lose his gold; but the people
shouted with joy, and the horse was led away to his new stall and a
dinner such as he had not had in many a day.
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