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armor and lay plunging and kicking on his back, but ceased not for a moment to hurl threats and defiances at his laughing foes. "Fly not, ye cowards, ye dastards! Wait awhile! 'Tis not by my fault, but by the fault of my horse that I lie prostrate here."

One of the mule-drivers, who was somewhat hot-tempered, was so provoked by the haughty language of the poor fallen knight, that he resolved to give him the answer on his ribs, and running up he snatched the lance from Don Quixote's hands, broke it in pieces, and taking one of them began to beat him with such good-will that in spite of the armor he bruised him like wheat in a mill-hopper. And he found the exercise so much to his liking that he continued it until he had shivered every fragment of the broken lance into splinters. Nevertheless he could not stop the mouth of our valiant knight, who during all that tempest of blows went on defying heaven and earth and shouting menaces against those bandits, as he now supposed them to be.

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At length the mule-driver grew weary, and the whole party rode off, leaving the battered champion on the ground. When they were gone he made another attempt to rise. But if he failed when he was sound and whole, how much less could he do it now that he was almost hammered to pieces! Notwithstanding, his heart was light and gay, for in his own fancy he was a hero of romance, lying covered with wounds on honor's field.

* * * * * * ** * * * * VI. THE RETURN HOME

Two days had passed since Don Quixote left his home, and his niece and his housekeeper were growing very anxious about him. More than once they

had heard him declare his intention to turn knight-errant, and they began to fear that he had carried out his mad design. On the evening of the second day, a few hours after he had been so roughly handled by the muleteer, they heard a loud voice calling outside the street door: "Open to Sir Baldwin and the Lord Marquis of Mantua, who is brought to your gates grievously wounded." They made haste to unbar the door, and when it was opened they saw a strange sight: mounted on an ass, whose head was held by a laboring man of the village, sat Don Quixote, huddled together in a most uncavalier-like posture, his armor all battered and his face begrimed with dirt. Hard by stood Rozinante, a woeful object, crooking his knees and drooping his head; and tied in a bundle on his back were the splintered fragments of Don Quixote's lance.

When they saw who it was, they gathered round him with eager questions and cries of welcome; but he checked them with a gesture and said: "Control yourselves, all of you! I am grievously hurt, and if it be possible let some one go and fetch Urganda the wise woman, that she may examine and heal my wounds."

"Alack-a-day!" cried the housekeeper, lifting up her hands. "Did I not tell you, gentlemen, that I knew on which foot my master halted? Come, dear sir, and we will cure you, without the help of Urganda or anyone else." And with many maledictions against the books of chivalry which had done the kind gentleman so ill a turn, she assisted him to dismount, and amongst them they carried him to his room, took off his armor, and laid him on his bed. Then they inquired where he was hurt, and Don Quixote exclaimed that he was bruised from head

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For two weeks Don Quixote remained peacefully at home, and many were the pleasant discussions which passed between him and his old friends, the priest and barber, on his favorite theme-the pressing need of reviving the profession of knight-errantry, and his own peculiar fitness for rendering this great service to the world. All this time he was secretly negotiating with a certain peasant, a neighbor of his, whose name was Sancho Panza, an honest, poor man, not much better furnished with wits than the knight himself. This simple fellow lent a ready ear to his grand tales of glory and conquest, and at last consented to follow him as his squire, being especially tempted by certain mysterious hints which Don Quixote let fall concerning an "Isle," of which his new master promised to make him governor at the first opportunity.

This matter being arranged Don Quixote patched up his armor, obtained a new lance, and having provided himself with a sum of money, gave notice to his squire of the day on which he proposed to start. Sancho, who was short and fat and little used to traveling on foot, asked leave to bring his ass, remarking that it was a very good one. This proposal gave the knight pause, for, try as he would, he could remember no authority for a squire on a long-eared charger; but finally he gave the required permission, resolving to furnish him with a worthier steed as soon as possible, by taking the horse of the first discourteous knight whom he met.

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When all was ready they set off together one night, without taking leave of their families, and rode steadily on, so that by daybreak they were beyond the reach of pursuit. Sancho Panza sat his ass like a patriarch, carrying with him his saddle-bags and leather bottle; and all his thoughts were of the Isle which his master had promised him. Don Quixote was lost in loftier meditations until he was roused from his reverie by the voice of his squire, who said: "I hope your Grace has not forgotten the Isle which I was to have, for I shall know well how to govern it, however big it may be."

"As to that," replied Don Quixote, "thou needest have no fear; I shall only be complying with an ancient and honorable custom of knights-errant, and, indeed, I purpose to improve on their practice, for, instead of waiting, as they often did, until thou art worn out in my service, I shall seek the first occasion to bestow on thee this gift; and it may be that before a week has passed thou wilt be crowned king of that Isle."

"Well," said Sancho, "if this miracle should come to pass, my good wife Joan will be a queen and my sons young princes."

"Who doubts it?" answered Don Quixote.

"I do," rejoined Sancho. "My Joan a queen! Nay, if it rained crowns, I don't believe that one would ever settle on my dame's head. Believe me, your honor, she's not worth three farthings as a queen; she might manage as a countess, though that would be hard enough."

"Think not so meanly of thyself, Sancho," said Don Quixote, gravely. "Marquis is the very least title which I

intend for thee, if thou wilt be content | shouting at the top of his voice: "Fly with that." not, ye cowardly loons, for it is only a single knight who is coming to attack you!"

"That I will, and heaven bless your honor," said Sancho heartily. "I will take what you give and be thankful, knowing that you will not make the burden too heavy for my back."

Chatting thus, they reached the top of rising ground and saw before them thirty or forty windmills in the plain below; and as soon as Don Quixote set eyes on them he said to his squire: "Friend Sancho, we are in luck to-day! See, there stands a troop of monstrous giants, thirty or more, and with them I will forthwith do battle and slay them every one. With their spoils we will lay the foundation of our fortune, as is the victor's right; moreover it is doing heaven good service to sweep this generation of vipers from off the face of the earth."

"What giants do you mean?" asked Sancho Panza.

"Those whom thou seest yonder," answered his master, "with the long arms, which in such creatures are sometimes two leagues in length."

"What is your honor thinking of?" cried Sancho. "Those are not giants, but windmills, and their arms, as you call them, are the sails, which, being driven by the wind, set the millstones going."

"'Tis plain," said Don Quixote, "that thou hast still much to learn in our school of adventures. I tell thee they are giants, and if thou art afraid, keep out of the way and pass the time in prayer while I am engaged with them in fierce and unequal battle."

Saying this, he set spurs to Rozinante, and turning a deaf ear to the cries of Sancho, who kept repeating that the supposed giants were nothing but windmills, he thundered across the plain,

Just at this moment there came a puff of wind, which set the sails in motion; seeing which, Don Quixote cried: “Ay, swing your arms! If ye had more of them than Briareos himself, I would make you pay for it." Then, with a heartfelt appeal to his lady Dulcinea, he charged full gallop at the nearest mill, and pierced the descending sail with his lance. The weapon was shivered to pieces, and horse and rider, caught by the sweep of the sail, were sent rolling with great violence across the plain.

"Heaven preserve us!" cried Sancho, who had followed as fast as his ass could trot, and found his master lying very still by the side of his steed. "Did I not warn your honor that those things were windmills and not giants at all? Surely none could fail to see it, unless he had such another whirligig in his own pate!"

"Be silent, good Sancho!" replied Don Quixote, "and know that the things of war, beyond all others, are subject to continual mutation. Moreover, in the present case I think, nay, I am sure, that an alien power has been at work, even that wicked enchanter Friston; he it is who has changed those giants into windmills to rob me of the honor of their defeat. But in the end all his evil devices shall be baffled by my good sword."

"Heaven grant that it may be so!" said Sancho, assisting him to rise; and the knight then remounted Rozinante, whose shoulders were almost splayed by his fall, and turned his face towards the Puerto Lapice, a rugged mountain pass through which ran the main road from Madrid to Andalusia; for such a place,

he thought, could not fail to afford rich and varied matter for adventures.

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One of the best of Mr. Scudder's many fine compilations for children is his Book of Legends from which the following story is taken. It is the same story that Longfellow tells in his Tales of a Wayside Inn under the title of "King Robert of Sicily." ("The Proud King" is used here by permission of and special arrangement with the publishers, The Houghton Mifflin Co., Boston.)

THE PROUD KING

HORACE E. SCUDDER

There was once a king who ruled over many lands; he went to war, and added one country after another to his kingdom. At last he came to be emperor, and that is as much as any man can be. One night, after he was crowned emperor, he lay awake and thought about himself.

"Surely," he said, "no one can be greater than I am, on earth or in heaven."

The proud king fell asleep with these thoughts. When he awoke, the day was fair, and he looked out on the pleasant world.

"Come," he said to the men about him; "to-day we will go a-hunting."

The horses were brought, the dogs came leaping, the horns sounded, and the proud king with his courtiers rode off to the sport. They had hunted all the morning, and were now in a deep wood. In the fields the sun had beat upon their heads, and they were glad of the shade of the trees; but the proud king wished for something more. He saw a lake not far off, and he said to his men:

"Bide ye here, while I bathe in the lake and cool myself."

Then he rode apart till he came to the shore of the lake. There he got down from his horse, laid aside his clothes, and plunged into the cool water. He Swam about, and sometimes dived beneath the surface, and so was once more cool and fresh.

Now while the proud king was swimming away from the shore and diving to the bottom, there came one who had the same face and form as the king. He drew near the shore, dressed himself in the king's clothes, mounted the king's horse and rode away. So when the proud king was once more cool and fresh, and came to the place where he had left his clothes and his horse, there were no clothes to be seen, and no horse.

The proud king looked about, but saw no man. He called, but no one heard him. The air was mild, but the wood was dark, and no sunshine came through to warm him after his cool bath. He walked by the shore of the lake and cast about in his mind what he should do.

"I have it," he cried at last. "Not far from here lives a knight. It was but a few days ago that I made him a knight and gave him a castle. I will go to him, and he will be glad enough to clothe his king."

The proud king wove some reeds into a mat and bound the mat about him, and then he walked to the castle of the knight. He beat loudly at the gate of the castle and called for the porter. The porter came and stood behind the gate. He did not draw the bolt at once, but asked:

"Who is there?"

"Open the gate," said the proud king, "and you will see who I am."

The porter opened the gate, and was amazed at what he saw.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Wretch!" said the proud king; “I am the emperor. Go to your master. Bid him come to me with clothes. I have lost both clothes and horse."

"A pretty emperor!" the porter laughed. "The great emperor was here not an hour ago. He came with his court from a hunt. My master was with him and sat at meat with him. But stay you here. I will call my master. Oh, yes! I will show him the emperor," and the porter wagged his beard and laughed, and went within.

He came forth again with the knight and pointed at the proud king.

"There is the emperor!" he said. "Look at him! look at the great emperor!" "Draw near," said the proud king to the knight, "and kneel to me. I gave thee this castle. I made thee knight. I give thee now a greater gift. I give thee the chance to clothe thy emperor with clothes of thine own."

"You dog!” cried the knight. "You fool! I have just ridden with the emperor, and have come back to my castle. Here!" he shouted to his servants, "beat this fellow and drive him away from the gate."

The porter looked on and laughed. "Lay on well," he said to the other servants. "It is not every day that you can flog an emperor."

Then they beat the proud king, and drove him from the gate of the castle.

"Base knight!" said the proud king. "I gave him all he has, and this is how he repays me. I will punish him when I sit on my throne again. I will go to the duke who lives not far away. Him I have known all my days. He will know me. He will know his emperor."

So he came to the gate of the duke's great hall, and knocked three times. At the third knock the porter opened the gate, and saw before him a man clad only in a mat of reeds, and stained and bleeding.

"Go, I pray you, to the duke," said the proud king, "and bid him come to me. Say to him that the emperor stands at the gate. He has been robbed of his clothes and of his horse. Go quickly to your master."

The porter closed the gate between them, and went within to the duke.

"Your Grace," said he, "there is a madman at the gate. He is unclad and wild. He bade me come to you and tell you that he was the emperor."

"Here is a strange thing indeed," said the duke; "I will see it for myself."

So he went to the gate, followed by his servants, and when the porter opened it there stood the proud king. The proud king knew the duke, but the duke saw only a bruised and beaten madman.

"Do you not know me?" cried the proud king. "I am your emperor. Only this morning you were on the hunt with me. I left you that I might bathe in the lake. While I was in the water, some wretch took both my clothes and my horse, and I-I have been beaten by a base knight."

"Put him in chains," said the duke to his servants. "It is not safe to have such a man free. Give him some straw to lie on, and some bread and water."

The duke turned away and went back to his hall, where his friends sat at table.

"That was a strange thing," he said. "There was a madman at the gate. He must have been in the wood this morning, for he told me that I was on the hunt with the emperor, and so I was; and he

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