The Childrens Hour, v 5 | Page 3

him; but
the giants prove to be windmills, and their sails give him many a heavy blow before his
fight with them is over. Another time, he finds the giants in his very bedroom; and the
courageous knight cuts off their heads as fast as he can swing his sword. Blood flows like
water; only when a light is brought, it does not prove to be blood but--well, it is not fair
to tell the rest of the story. We must let Cervantes do that for himself in "Don Quixote's
Battle with the Giants."
The fifth book, the "Arabian Nights," is a mystery. We do not know who composed the
stories or who brought them together in one collection. We cannot even tell where they
came from. The most we can say positively is that two hundred years ago a Frenchman
traveling through the East came across them in some Arabian manuscripts and translated
them into French. Whether they came in the first place from Arabia or Persia or India,
whether they were composed five or six hundred years ago or at least one thousand, no
one can say. Many learned scholars have tried in vain to answer these questions; but if we
had to choose between having the stories and knowing who wrote them, I do not believe
that any boy or girl who had read even one of them would find it difficult to make a
choice.
The sixth book, "The Travels of Baron Munchausen," is said to have been written by a
German named Raspé; but it is just as well not to believe this statement too positively, for
it is quite possible that Raspé had nothing to do with the book. Learned scholars have

held profound discussions on the source of the stories. One in particular, that of the
frozen tunes which began to play of themselves as soon as they thawed, has been found
in some form in several countries. The best match for the Baron's version is the old tale
of the merchants who set out one day to buy furs. When they came to a river, they saw
the fur dealers standing on the opposite shore. The dealers held up their furs and seemed
to be shouting their prices, but it was so cold that the words froze in the air. Then the
merchants went out on the ice and built a great fire. It warmed the air overhead, and the
words thawed and came down. But long before this, the dealers had gone home. The
merchants thought the prices too high, so they, too, went home; and that was the end of
the tale. The "Travels" is full of stories as absurd as this, but told in such a way that while
you are reading them, and sometimes for as much as five minutes afterwards, you feel as
if they were really true.
The seventh and last of the books is the plays of Shakespeare. A play always contains a
story, and it is the stories of some of Shakespeare's dramas that are given here. In the real
plays there is much more than stories, however, because Shakespeare was not only a
story-teller but also a poet. A poet must express what he sees and thinks in a way to give
pleasure and he must see more than other people. Now when Shakespeare puts a thought
into words, we find that no one else has expressed it so well. Moreover, he sees more
clearly than any other writer how a person would feel and behave in various
circumstances. As we read the plays, we say to ourselves of one character after another,
"That is just the way I should feel if I were that person." We think of them as real people.
We talk of what they would have done if circumstances had been different. It is only a
great genius who can make out of words characters that seem almost as real as the people
around us, but this is what William Shakespeare has done.

THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS

CHRISTIAN PASSES THROUGH THE WICKET GATE
By John Bunyan
In process of time Christian got up to the Gate. Now over the Gate there was written,
Knock and it shall be opened unto you. He knocked therefore more then once or twice,
saying,--
"May I now enter here? Will he within Open to sorry me, though I have bin An
undeserving Rebel? Then shall I Not fail to sing his lasting praise on high."
At last there came a grave Person to the Gate named _Good-Will_, who asked Who was
there? and whence he came? and what he would have?
_Chr._ Here is a poor burdened sinner. I come from the City of Destruction, but am
going to Mount Zion, that I