William Tell Told Again | Page 5

they would say, "Tell is quite the
pot-hunter," meaning by the last word a man who always went in for
every prize, and always won it. And Tell would say, "Yes, truly am I a
pot-hunter, for I hunt to fill the family pot." And so he did. He never
came home empty-handed from the chase. Sometimes it was a chamois
that he brought back, and then the family had it roasted on the first day,
cold on the next four, and minced on the sixth, with sippets of toast
round the edge of the dish. Sometimes it was only a bird (as on the
cover of this book), and then Hedwig would say, "Mark my words, this
fowl will not go round." But it always did, and it never happened that
there was not even a fowl to eat.
[Illustration: Frontispiece]
In fact, Tell and his family lived a very happy, contented life, in spite
of the Governor Gessler and his taxes.
Tell was very patriotic. He always believed that some day the Swiss
would rise and rebel against the tyranny of the Governor, and he used
to drill his two children so as to keep them always in a state of
preparation. They would march about, beating tin cans and shouting,
and altogether enjoying themselves immensely, though Hedwig, who
did not like noise, and wanted Walter and William to help her with the
housework, made frequent complaints. "Mark my words," she would
say, "this growing spirit of militarism in the young and foolish will lead
to no good," meaning that boys who played at soldiers instead of
helping their mother to dust the chairs and scrub the kitchen floor
would in all probability come to a bad end. But Tell would say, "Who
hopes to fight his way through life must be prepared to wield arms.
Carry on, my boys!" And they carried on. It was to this man that the
Swiss people had determined to come for help.
[Illustration: PLATE II]

CHAPTER IV
Talking matters over in the inn of the town, the Glass and Glacier, the
citizens came to the conclusion that they ought to appoint three
spokesmen to go and explain to Tell just what they wanted him to do.
"I don't wish to seem to boast at all," said Arnold of Sewa, "but I think I
had better be one of the three."
"I was thinking," said Werner Stauffacher, "that it would be a pity
always to be chopping and changing. Why not choose the same three as
were sent to Gessler?"
"I don't desire to be unpleasant at all," replied Arnold of Sewa, "but I
must be forgiven for reminding the honourable gentleman who has just
spoken that he and his equally honourable friends did not meet with the
best of success when they called upon the Governor."
"Well, and you didn't either!" snapped Arnold of Melchthal, whose
finger still hurt him, and made him a little bad-tempered.
"That," said Arnold of Sewa, "I put down entirely to the fact that you
and your friends, by not exercising tact, irritated the Governor, and
made him unwilling to listen to anybody else. Nothing is more
important in these affairs than tact. That's what you want--tact. But
have it your own way. Don't mind _me!_"
And the citizens did not. They chose Werner Stauffacher, Arnold of
Melchthal, and Walter Fürst, and, having drained their glasses, the
three trudged up the steep hill which led to Tell's house.
It had been agreed that everyone should wait at the Glass and Glacier
until the three spokesmen returned, in order that they might hear the
result of their mission. Everybody was very anxious. A revolution
without Tell would be quite impossible, and it was not unlikely that
Tell might refuse to be their leader. The worst of a revolution is that, if
it fails, the leader is always executed as an example to the rest. And
many people object to being executed, however much it may set a good

example to their friends. On the other hand, Tell was a brave man and a
patriot, and might be only too eager to try to throw off the tyrant's yoke,
whatever the risk. They had waited about an hour, when they saw the
three spokesmen coming down the hill. Tell was not with them, a fact
which made the citizens suspect that he had refused their offer. The
first thing a man does when he has accepted the leadership of a
revolution is to come and plot with his companions.
"Well?" said everybody eagerly, as the three arrived.
Werner Stauffacher shook his head.
"Ah," said Arnold of Sewa, "I see what it is. He has refused. You didn't
exercise tact, and he refused."
"We did exercise tact," said Stauffacher indignantly; "but