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Read Ebook: Edmund Dulac's Picture-Book for the French Red Cross by Dulac Edmund
Font size: Background color: Text color: Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev PageEbook has 395 lines and 45597 words, and 8 pagesAt this the chief of Yemen bade him hold his hand from committing this terrible deed. 'O chief of Basr?h,' he said, 'I give thee one day to think about this matter. There are two sides to it: the one is that thou deliver up thy daughter to be given to my son to wife, so that there may be a bond of friendship between us; the other is that thou keep thy daughter and surrender thy sovereignty, retaining thy territories only in vassalage to me.' With that the chief of Yemen and his ally, Noufal, withdrew, leaving Basr?h to decide before dawn the following day. As soon as Ibn knew this he called some of his warriors and questioned them on the matter of his hosts in reserve. 'Four thousand,' he said, when he had heard their replies. 'The foe is but three thousand, and we are little more than one thousand.' Then he gave orders to some chosen messengers and bade them steal forth secretly and deliver them to his generals. Half the four thousand was to arrive by night under cover of the mountains and be ready for battle at sunrise. The other half was to make a circuit of the desert and fall upon the foe from behind when the battle was at its hottest. On this sudden stroke he relied for complete victory. The chief of Basr?h laughed him to scorn. 'Go tell the chief of Yemen and his robber friend of the desert,' he said, 'that if they desire my domains they must take them by force of arms. Tell them that Basr?h never surrenders: he prefers to live free, or to die fighting.' The herald took back this proud answer of defiance. On hearing it Yemen wondered and questioned, but Noufal, who was a man of the desert, sudden in temper and quick to act, counselled an immediate attack. Yemen was slain. Noufal, flying from numbers on swifter steeds than his, laughed back at his pursuers, then slew himself, dying, as he had lived, at full gallop. For a long time she remained like this. Then, suddenly, she was aroused from her weeping by a sound. It was the 'coo, coo, coo' of the missing dove, and it came from the great tree. Immediately the other dove fanned her hair as it sped past her to its mate. It made her long for wings that she too might fly away and away to her lover. And, as the sun rose, Zeyd came and stood by the grave, gazing down upon his master through tears of grief;--gazing down upon the dead through bitter tears of grief. THE NIGHTINGALE AFTER A FAIRY TALE BY HANS ANDERSEN With this he summoned his gentleman-in-waiting--a very important personage; so important, indeed, that when one of less importance dared to address him on even a matter more important than either of them, he would simply answer, 'Ph!'--which, as you know, means nothing at all. 'These books cannot all be wrong,' said the emperor; 'especially as they all agree in their accounts of it. It appears that the whole world knows what I am possessed of, and yet I have never known it myself till now. I command you to bring this rare bird here this evening to sing to me.' 'Nonsense!' cried the emperor. 'This book here was sent me by his powerful majesty the emperor of Japan, so it must be true--every word of it. I will give this bird my most gracious protection, but, as for those who fail to find it and bring it here to-night--well, if it is not forthcoming, I will have the whole court trampled upon after supper!' She clapped her hands with glee at this, and very soon they were all following her on the way to the wood. As they ran a cow began to bellow loudly, and they stopped. 'That's it!' cried a young courtier. 'What a magnificent voice for so small a creature!' 'Nay, nay; that's a cow. We have not reached the place yet.' And the little maid hurried them on. Presently the frogs of a neighbouring marsh raised a chorus of 'Koax! koax!' 'There it is! there it is!' cried the little kitchen-maid, pointing to the little gray bird among the branches. 'Listen!' 'With all the pleasure in the world,' replied the bird, trilling out the most delightful notes. That evening the splendid abode of the emperor was a sight to see. The china walls and floors shone with the radiance of a thousand golden lamps; the corridors were decked with the rarest flowers from the garden, each with its little silver bell attached, so that when the breeze swept their subtle perfumes along the ways of the palace they rang a peal of joy. 'I have seen tears in the eyes of the emperor,' it said, 'and that is sufficient reward.' Then it burst again into its sweet, melodious song. 'How delightful!' cried everybody, and immediately the emperor summoned the messenger who had delivered the parcel, and there and then created him Imperial Nightingale-Carrier in Chief. So the toy bird had to sing alone, and everybody said the music master was right; there was nothing to choose between the two, unless it was that the toy bird's coat was a blaze of dazzling jewels, while that of the other was a gray drab--common in the extreme. The toy bird sang just as well, and, besides, it was much prettier to look at. 'What does this mean?' cried the emperor. The gentleman-in-waiting stepped forward. 'It means, your Majesty,' he said, 'it means, I'm afraid, that it was an ungrateful bird, but still clever enough to give place to its betters.' The music master was loud in his praises of the bird. He extolled it inside as well as out, saying that it was not only beautiful and valuable, but that its works were perfect. The real bird sang what it liked, but here one could choose a given tune and hear it sung. The whole thing was far more perfect than the real. The court agreed with him, and the emperor was prevailed upon to let the people hear the toy bird sing on the following Sunday. For a whole year the artificial bird ground out its mechanical tunes. They were even set to music by the skilled men of the time, and the people sang them in their homes. On great public festivals, when the bird sang before delighted multitudes, they would raise their voices and join in the chorus. It was a great success. But one night, when the bird was singing its best by the emperor's bedside, something inside the toy went 'whizz.' Then, with a grating catch and a snap, the main crank broke: 'whirr' went all the wheels, and the music stopped. The emperor immediately summoned the Chief Winder of the Imperial Singer of the Bed-Chamber, and he, with the assistance of the skilled workmen of his department, managed, in less than seven days and nights of talk and toil, to put the works right again; but, he said, the inside of the bird was not what it used to be, and, unless it was used very sparingly, say once a year, he hesitated to say what might happen in the end. This was a terrible blow to China! The bird could only sing once a year, but, on that great annual occasion, it was listened to with long-pent-up enthusiasm; and, at the end of the concert, the music master made a speech, in which he used none but the most difficult words, to prove that the bird was still as good as ever, in fact even better, and that his saying so made it so. Five years passed away, during which time the bird sang five times; and then a great grief fell upon the nation. The emperor lay dying. The physicians came and went, shaking their heads: they gave no hope. The gentleman-in-waiting, when questioned by the people as to the state of their emperor, merely answered 'Ph!' So bad was the outlook that already a new emperor had been chosen, and the whole court hurried to congratulate him. The old emperor lay pale and still in his gorgeous bed, but he was not dead. While the courtiers were jostling each other in their efforts to catch the eye of the emperor-elect; while the lackeys were running hither and thither exchanging the news, and the chamber-maids giving a grand coffee-party, the old emperor's spark of life flickered and flickered. Through a high open window the moon shone in upon the bed with its velvet hangings and heavy golden tassels; upon the pale face of the emperor; upon the jewelled bird by his side. Now he gasped for breath: there was something heavy on his chest. With a great effort he opened his eyes, and there, sitting upon him, he saw Death, wearing his own golden crown, with his own golden sword in one hand, and in the other his own imperial banner. Death grinned as he settled himself more heavily. Then, as the emperor still struggled for breath, he saw, peering at him round the folds of the bed-hangings, the faces of all the deeds he had ever committed. Some were hideous as they hissed, 'Do you remember?' Others were sweet and loving as they murmured, 'Do you remember?' And then, while they told him in one breath all that he had ever done, good and bad, Death sat heavier and heavier upon him, nodding his head at all they had to say. The perspiration streamed down the emperor's face. At last he shrieked aloud, 'This is unbearable! Sound the drums! Give me music to drown their voices!' Then he said to the bird by his side, 'You precious little bird--golden bird with your coat of jewels--sing, sing! I have given you everything; I have even hung my golden slipper round your neck,--now sing, I command you, sing!' But there was no response. The bird stood there, a dumb thing: you see, it could not sing because there was nobody there to wind it up. Then, as Death fastened his empty sockets upon him, a terrible silence fell. Deeper and deeper it grew, and the emperor could hear nothing but the beating of Death's heart--his own would soon be silent. Slowly, slowly, as it sang divinely, the faces that peered round the velvet folds grew wan. Pale Death himself started, and turned still paler with wonder and amazement. 'How beautiful!' he said; 'sing on, little bird, thrilling with life!' 'You heavenly little bird!' he said. 'Welcome back to my heart! I banished you from my kingdom, but you heard my call and returned to charm away those evil visions, and even Death himself. Thanks! A world of thanks! How can I ever repay you?' Tears shone in the emperor's eyes. 'Oh! you mustn't do that,' replied the real bird, 'it did its best, and, after all, it is a pretty thing. Keep it always by you. I can't come to live in the palace, but let me come whenever I like and sit in the tree outside your window and sing to you in the evening. I will sing you songs to make you happy, to cheer and comfort you. And sometimes I will sing of those who suffer, to make you sad, and then you will long to help them. I will sing of many things unknown to you in your great wide kingdom, for the little gray bird flies far and wide, from the roof-tree of the humblest peasant to the bed of the mighty emperor. Yes, I will come very often--but--but will you promise me one thing?' 'I will promise you anything, little bird.' The emperor had risen from his bed; he now stood by the window in his imperial robes, and the jewels in the golden crown upon his head flashed and sparkled in the moonlight. Taking his heavy sword he pressed the golden hilt against his heart as he repeated, 'anything--anything!' When the courtiers and attendants came in to view the body of their late master, he was still standing by the window in his imperial robes. They gasped in horror at missing their grief. 'Good morning!' said the emperor. THREE KINGS OF ORIENT A CAROL GASPAR, MELCHIOR, BALTHAZAR: WE three Kings of Orient are, Bearing gifts we traverse afar Field and fountain, Moor and mountain, Following yonder star. O Star of Wonder, Star of Night, Star with Royal Beauty bright, Westward leading, Still proceeding, Guide us to Thy perfect Light. GASPAR. Born a King on Bethlehem plain, Gold I bring to crown Him again, King for ever, Ceasing never Over us all to reign. O Star of Wonder, Star of Night, Star with Royal Beauty bright, Westward leading, Still proceeding, Guide us to Thy perfect Light. MELCHIOR: Frankincense to offer have I-- Incense owns a Deity nigh. All men, raising Prayer and praising, Worship Him, God on High. O Star of Wonder, Star of Night, Star with Royal Beauty bright, Westward leading, Still proceeding, Guide us to Thy perfect Light. BALTHAZAR: Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev Page |
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