Zigzag Journeys in Europe Part 17

"Then the jolly harper man went as fast as he could to Striveling. Of course, he found his fine gray mare in the lot with her foal, and the king's horse tied to her halter; and, of course, he rode the n.o.ble animal into Carlisle; and presenting himself before the two knights, Sir Roger and Sir Charles, claimed his five ploughs of land and five thousand pounds.

"'Go to! go to!' said Sir Roger, pointing at him in derision; and Sir Charles laughed a mighty laugh of scorn. 'The man does not live who could ride away the king's Brownie! Go to!'

"'The king's Brownie stands in your own court!' cried the jolly harper man; and Sir Roger and Sir Charles paid their forfeits without another word.

"Then the jolly harper man returned the king's horse to the royal owner: and who ever heard of such a thing as a king breaking his promise? Not the jolly harper man, you may be sure."

"Is the story a true one?" asked Tommy Toby.

"The story, as I heard it, was acknowledged to be considerably embellished; and I have tried to make it as attractive as possible.

You should always remember this, that a good historic story gathers color by time. The stories of Faust, Macbeth, King Lear, William Tell, Robert the Devil, and many others I might name, have but meagre facts for a starting point."

"I know a story of Nottingham, that I think as funny as that," said Tommy. "It is about the Wise Men of Gotham."

"We will hear it when we go to Nottingham," said Master Lewis. "I think we will go there at once, after an excursion to the English Lakes."

The next morning George Howe and Leander Towle left the party for Birmingham, London, and Paris, as their means would not admit of their making easy zigzag journeys through England, in the way that Master Lewis had planned for the other boys. They agreed to meet Master Lewis and their companions in London, on their return from Paris, at which time they would have completed their tour, and would be obliged to leave for home before the others made their journey through Normandy.

Ernest Wynn, as we have said, was very fond of old English and Scottish ballads, and he never lost any good opportunity to hear a new song.

While the party were talking over their plans for visiting English places, the sound of a piano in an adjoining room fell upon Ernest's ear.

He left his companions, and, going into the open room from which the music came, listened attentively to the playing.

"Do you sing?" asked Ernest of the player, who was a pleasant-faced little miss about ten or twelve years of age.

"Sometimes."

"I like music. Will you not sing for me?"

"If I can. What would you have me sing?"

"Oh, something about Carlisle: something that I would not hear at home."

"Where is your home?"

"In America."

"In America! What, so far? Perhaps you would like to hear 'Mona's Waters?'"

"Yes," said Ernest.

The song was very winningly sung.

"Now perhaps you would like to hear 'When first I came to merry Carlisle'?"

Ernest smiled.

"It doesn't mean you at all. It was a girl who lost her lover in one of the Border Wars.

"'When first I came to merry Carlisle, Ne'er was a town sae sweetly seeming: The white rose flaunted o'er the wall, The thistled banners far were streaming.

"'When next I came to merry Carlisle, Oh sad, sad, seemed the town, an' eerie!

The auld, auld men came out and wept, O maiden! come ye to seek yere dearie?'"

"Thank you for that song," said Ernest. "I have heard 'Highland Mary'

sung at Ayr, and shall always remember it. And I shall also be pleased to recollect,--

"'When first I came to merry Carlisle.'"

"And 'the girl I left behind me,'" said Tommy Toby to Ernest, softly.

The Miss saw the point of the joke, and, as it was politely spoken, received the implied compliment with becoming modesty and good-humor, saying that she should also remember very pleasantly the visit of the Zigzag Club to her father's house.

CHAPTER VIII.

A CLOUDLESS DAY.

Sherwood Forest.--Nottingham.--Story of the Wise Men of Gotham.

"Have stood by the graves of Wordsworth and Coleridge. The trees were green and cool; the Rotha rippled beside the poets' resting-place, and Helvellyn and Catchedicam in the distance rose in the calm, bright air. Beautiful indeed are these mountains in midsummer. The whole Lake region is beautiful--beautiful!"

Such was the brief entry Wyllys Wynn made in the journal in his guide-book, on returning from the English Lakes.

"There is a touching story a.s.sociated with Helvellyn," said Wyllys to Master Lewis, as the boys were returning from the Lakes, "that Scott has told in very musical verse. It is of a little dog that watched beside the dead body of his master for several months, and was found guarding the bones. Will you not relate it to us?"

"Wordsworth and Scott, I think," said Master Lewis, "both tell the story in verse.

"About the year 1805 there dwelt in the district a young man of elegant tastes, who loved to explore these mountain regions. He was well known for his literary attainments, and greatly beloved for his gentle and amiable manners.

"He used to make frequent excursions among the wild mountains, and would spend whole days feasting his eye on the exhaustless beauties they afforded. He was always attended by a little terrier dog, to which he was greatly attached, and which was ever on the alert to do his master's bidding. Scott, in his ballad, calls the young man the Wanderer, and so I will call him now.

"One spring day, when the streams were swollen, and the mountains were all alive with waterfalls, birds, and flowers, the Wanderer set out on an excursion that promised unusual attractions, attended by his little favorite. He penetrated too far, or remained too long; night probably overtook him, and he lost his way. He fell from a precipice, and was dashed in pieces. For several months the little dog watched by the remains of his beloved master, only leaving them, it is supposed, to obtain necessary food. The remains of the Wanderer were found during the following summer by a party of excursionists, and, when discovered, the terrier was guarding them with pitying care.

"Sir Walter Scott, in company with Wordsworth, ascended Helvellyn during the following autumn, and visited the spot where the Wanderer died. The well-known ballad, one of the most pathetic of Scott's poetical compositions, was the result of this excursion.

"'I climbed the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn, Lakes and mountains beneath me gleamed misty and wide, All was still, save by fits, when the eagle was yelling, And starting around me the echoes replied.

On the right Striden-edge round the Red-tarn was bending, And Catchedicam its left verge was defending, One huge, nameless rock in the front was ascending, When I marked the sad spot where the Wanderer had died.'"

The Cla.s.s stopped at Sheffield, and thence began their first experience of English stage-coaching to the old town of Mansfield.

They entered the latter upon a market-day, and found the streets full of empty carts, cattle, and rustic people, presenting a scene of truly ancient simplicity. Mansfield is still a miller's town, and must present nearly the same appearance as in the days of Henry II., who, according to the old ballad, was lost in the forests near the place.

The forests, however, have changed: little remains of them but a heath, traversed by wild and romantic roads. Here and there a great tree, like a forest lord, may be seen, to remind one of the kingly hunting days.

Leaving Mansfield for Sherwood Forest, strange houses by the wayside, excavated in limestone and recalling the supposed age of the cave-dwellers, as in an unexpected picture, much excited the boys'