The Ontario Readers Part 17

And the Philistine said to David, Come to me, and I will give thy flesh unto the fowls of the air, and to the beasts of the field.

Then said David to the Philistine, Thou comest to me with a sword, and with a spear, and with a s.h.i.+eld: but I come to thee in the name of the Lord of hosts, the G.o.d of the armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied.

This day will the Lord deliver thee into mine hand; and I will smite thee, and take thine head from thee; and I will give the carcases of the host of the Philistines this day unto the fowls of the air, and to the wild beasts of the earth; that all the earth may know that there is a G.o.d in Israel. And all this a.s.sembly shall know that the Lord saveth not with sword and spear: for the battle is the Lord's, and he will give you into our hands.

And it came to pa.s.s, when the Philistine arose, and came and drew nigh to meet David, that David hasted, and ran toward the army to meet the Philistine. And David put his hand in his bag, and took thence a stone, and slang it, and smote the Philistine in his forehead, that the stone sunk into his forehead; and he fell upon his face to the earth. So David prevailed over the Philistine with a sling and with a stone, and smote the Philistine, and slew him; but there was no sword in the hand of David. Therefore David ran, and stood upon the Philistine, and took his sword, and drew it out of the sheath thereof, and slew him, and cut off his head therewith. And when the Philistines saw their champion was dead, they fled.

I. SAMUEL, XVII.

[Ill.u.s.tration: AT THE END OF THE MEAL]

THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE

Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.

"Forward, the Light Brigade!

Charge for the guns!" he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.

"Forward, the Light Brigade!"

Was there a man dismay'd?

Not tho' the soldier knew Some one had blunder'd: Their's not to make reply, Their's not to reason why, Their's but to do and die: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volley'd and thunder'd; Storm'd at with shot and sh.e.l.l, Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of h.e.l.l Rode the six hundred.

Flash'd all their sabres bare, Flash'd as they turn'd in air Sabring the gunners there, Charging an army, while All the world wonder'd: Plunged in the battery-smoke Right thro' the line they broke; Cossack and Russian Reel'd from the sabre-stroke Shatter'd and sunder'd.

Then they rode back, but not Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon behind them Volley'd and thunder'd; Storm'd at with shot and sh.e.l.l, While horse and hero fell, They that had fought so well Came thro' the jaws of Death, Back from the mouth of h.e.l.l, All that was left of them, Left of six hundred.

When can their glory fade?

O the wild charge they made!

All the world wonder'd.

Honour the charge they made!

Honour the Light Brigade, n.o.ble six hundred!

TENNYSON

MAGGIE TULLIVER

Maggie and Tom came in from the garden with their father and their Uncle Glegg. Maggie had thrown her bonnet off very carelessly, and, coming in with her hair rough as well as out of curl, rushed at once to Lucy. The contrast between the two cousins was like the contrast between a rough, dark, overgrown puppy and a white kitten. Lucy put up the neatest little rosebud mouth to be kissed: everything about her was neat.

"Heyday!" said Aunt Glegg, with loud emphasis. "Do little boys and girls come into a room without taking notice of their uncles and aunts? That wasn't the way when I was a little girl."

"Go and speak to your aunts and uncles, my dears," said Mrs. Tulliver.

She wanted to whisper to Maggie a command to go and have her hair brushed.

"Well, and how do you do? And I hope you're good children, are you?"

said Aunt Glegg, in the same loud, emphatic way. "Look up, Tom, look up.

Look at me now. Put your hair behind your ears, Maggie, and keep your frock on your shoulder."

Aunt Glegg always spoke to them in this loud, emphatic way, as if she considered them deaf.

"Well, my dears," said Aunt Pullet, "you grow wonderfully fast,--I doubt they'll outgrow their strength. I think the girl has too much hair. I'd have it thinned and cut shorter, sister, if I were you; it isn't good for her health. It's that makes her skin so brown,--don't you think so, sister Deane?"

"I can't say, I'm sure, sister," said Mrs. Deane, shutting her lips close and looking at Maggie.

"No, no," said Mr. Tulliver, "the child's healthy enough: there's nothing ails her. There's red wheat as well as white, for that matter, and some like the dark grain best. But it would be as well if Bessie would have the child's hair cut so it would lie smooth."

"Maggie," said Mrs. Tulliver, beckoning Maggie to her, and whispering in her ear, "go and get your hair brushed,--do, for shame! I told you not to come in without going to Martha first; you know I did."

"Tom, come out with me," whispered Maggie, pulling his sleeve as she pa.s.sed him; and Tom followed willingly enough.

"Come upstairs with me, Tom," she whispered, when they were outside the door. "There's something I want to do before dinner."

"There's no time to play at anything before dinner," said Tom.

"Oh, yes, there is time for this--_do_ come, Tom."

Tom followed Maggie upstairs into her mother's room, and saw her go at once to a drawer from which she took out a large pair of scissors.

"What are they for, Maggie?" said Tom, feeling his curiosity awakened.

Maggie answered by seizing her front locks and cutting them straight across the middle of her forehead.

"Oh, my b.u.t.tons, Maggie, you'll catch it!" exclaimed Tom; "you'd better not cut any more off."

Snip! went the great scissors again while Tom was speaking; and he could hardly help feeling it was rather good fun--Maggie looking so queer.

"Here, Tom, cut it behind for me," said Maggie, excited by her own daring, and anxious to finish the deed.

"You'll catch it, you know," said Tom, hesitating a little as he took the scissors.

"Never mind--make haste!" said Maggie, giving a little stamp with her foot. Her cheeks were quite flushed.

The black locks were so thick,--nothing could be more tempting to a lad who had already tasted the forbidden pleasure of cutting the pony's mane. One delicious grinding snip, and then another and another, and the hinder locks fell heavily on the floor. Maggie stood cropped in a jagged, uneven manner, but with a sense of clearness and freedom, as if she had emerged from a wood into the open plain.

"Oh, Maggie," said Tom, jumping round her and slapping his knees as he laughed; "oh, my b.u.t.tons, what a queer thing you look! Look at yourself in the gla.s.s."

Maggie felt an unexpected pang. She had thought beforehand chiefly of her own deliverance from her teasing hair and teasing remarks about it, and something also of the triumph she should have over her mother and her aunts by this very decided course of action. She didn't want her hair to look pretty--that was out of the question--she only wanted people to think her a clever little girl and not to find fault with her.

But now, when Tom began to laugh at her, the affair had quite a new aspect. She looked in the gla.s.s, and still Tom laughed and clapped his hands, and Maggie's flushed cheeks began to pale, and her lips to tremble a little.

"Oh, Maggie, you'll have to go down to dinner directly," said Tom. "Oh, my!"