Chapter 2

Gesler, Tell, Albert, and soldiers--one bearing Tell's bow and quiver--another with a basket of apples.

Ges. That is your ground. Now shall they measure thence A hundred paces. Take the distance.

Tell. Is the line a true one?

Ges. True or not, what is 't to thee?

Tell. What is 't to me? A little thing. A very little thing; a yard or two Is nothing here or there--were it a wolf I shot at! Never mind.

Ges. Be thankful, slave, Our grace accords thee life on any terms.

Tell. I will be thankful, Gesler! Villain, stop! You measure to the sun.

Ges. And what of that? What matter whether to or from the sun?

Tell. I'd have it at my back. The sun should shine Upon the mark, and not on him that shoots. I can not see to shoot against the sun: I will not shoot against the sun!

Ges. Give him his way! Thou hast cause to bless my mercy.

Tell. I shall remember it. I'd like to see The apple I'm to shoot at.

Ges. Stay! show me the basket! there!

Tell. You've picked the smallest one.

Ges. I know I have.

Tell. Oh, do you? But you see The color of it is dark: I'd have it light, To see it better.

Ges. Take it as it is; Thy skill will be the greater if thou hitt'st it. Tell. True! true! I did not think of that; I wonder I did not think of that. Give me some chance To save my boy!-- I will not murder him, If I can help it--for the honor of The form thou wearest, if all the heart is gone. (Throws away the apple with all his force.)

Ges. Well: choose thyself.

Tell. Have I a friend among the lookers-on?

Verner. (Rushing forward.) Here, Tell.

Tell. I thank thee, Verner! He is a friend runs out into a storm To shake a hand with us. I must be brief. When once the bow is bent, we can not take The shot too soon. Verner, whatever be The issue of this hour, the common cause Must not stand still. Let not to-morrow's sun Set on the tyrant's banner! Verner! Verner! The boy! the boy! Thinkest thou he hath the courage To stand it?

Ver. Yes.

Tell. Does he tremble?

Ver. No.

Tell. Art sure?

Ver. I am.

Tell. How looks he?

Ver. Clear and smilingly. If you doubt it, look yourself.

Tell. No, no, my friend: To hear it is enough.

Ver. He bears himself so much above his years--

Tell. I know! I know!

Ver. With constancy so modest--

Tell. I was sure he would--

Ver. And looks with such relying love And reverence upon you--

Tell. Man! Man! Man! No more! Already I'm too much the father To act the man! Verner, no more, my friend! I would be flint--flint--flint. Don't make me feel I'm not--do not mind me! Take the boy And set him, Verner, with his back to me. Set him upon his knees, and place this apple Upon his head, so that the stem may front me. Thus, Verner; charge him to keep steady; tell him I'll hit the apple! Verner, do all this More briefly than I tell it thee.

Ver. Come, Albert! (Leading him out.)

Alb. May I not speak with him before I go?

Ver. No.

Alb. I would only kiss his hand.

Ver. You must not.

Alb. I must; I can not go from him without.

Ver. It is his will you should.

Alb. His will, is it? I am content, then; come.

Tell. My boy! (Holding out his arms to him.)

Alb. My father! (Rushing into Tell's arms.)

Tell. If thou canst bear it, should not I? Go now, My son; and keep in mind that I can shoot; Go, boy; be thou but steady, I will hit The apple. Go! God bless thee; go. My bow! (The bow is handed to him.) Thou wilt not fail thy master, wilt thou? Thou Hast never failed him yet, old servant. No, I'm sure of thee. I know thy honesty, Thou art stanch, stanch. Let me see my quiver.

Ges. Give him a single arrow.

Tell. Do you shoot?

Soldier. I do.

Tell. Is it so you pick an arrow, friend? The point, you see, is bent; the feather, jagged. That's all the use 't is fit for. (Breaks it.)

Ges. Let him have another.

Tell. Why, 't is better than the first, But yet not good enough for such an aim As I'm to take. 'T is heavy in the shaft; I'll not shoot with it! (Throws it away.) Let me see my quiver. Bring it! 'T is not one arrow in a dozen I'd take to shoot with at a dove, much less A dove like that.

Ges. It matters not. Show him the quiver.

Tell. See if the boy is ready. (Tell here hides an arrow under his vest.)

Ver. He is.

Tell. I 'm ready too! Keep silent, for Heaven's sake, and do not stir; and let me have Your prayers, your prayers, and be my witnesses That if his life's in peril from my hand, 'Tis only for the chance of saving it. (To the people.)

Ges. Go on.

Tell. I will. O friends, for mercy's sake keep motionless and silent. (Tell shoots. A shout of exultation bursts from the crowd. Tell's head drops on his bosom; he with difficulty supports himself on his bow.)

Ver. (Rushing in with Albert.) The boy is safe, no hair of him is touched.

Alb. Father, I'm safe. Your Albert's safe, dear father. Speak to me! Speak to me!

Ver. He can not, boy!

Alb. You grant him life?

Ges. I do.

Alb. And we are free?

Ges. You are. (Crossing angrily behind.)

Alb. Open his vest, And give him air. (Albert opens his father's vest, and the arrow drops. Tell starts, fixes his eyes on Albert and clasps him to his breast.)

Tell. My boy! My boy!

Ges. For what Hid you that arrow in your breast? Speak, slave!

Tell. To kill thee, tyrant, had I slain my boy!

DEFINITIONS.--Ac-cords', grants, concede. Is'sue (pro. ish'u), event, consequence. Stanch, sound, strong. Jag'ged, notched, uneven. Shaft, the stem of an arrow upon which the feather and head are inserted. Quiv'er, a case for arrows.

NOTE.--The legend further relates that on the discovery of the concealed arrow Tell was again put in chains. Gesler then embarked for another place, taking Tell with him. A storm overtook them, and Tell was released to steer the boat. In passing a certain point of land now known as "Tell's Rock" or "Leap," Tell leaped ashore and escaped: then going to a point where he knew the boat must land, he lay concealed until it arrived, when he shot Gesler through the heart.

LXIX. THE CRAZY ENGINEER.

1. My train left Dantzic in the morning generally about eight o'clock; but once a week we had to wait for the arrival of the steamer from Stockholm. It was the morning of the steamer's arrival that I came down from the hotel, and found that my engineer had been so seriously injured that he could not perform his work. I went immediately to the engine house to procure another engineer, for I supposed there were three or four in reserve there, but I was disappointed.

2. I heard the puffing of the steamer, and the passengers would be on hand in fifteen minutes. I ran to the guards and asked them if they knew where there was an engineer, but they did not. I then went to the firemen and asked them if anyone of them felt competent to run the engine to Bromberg. No one dared to attempt it. The distance was nearly one hundred miles. What was to be done?

3. The steamer stopped at the wharf, and those who were going on by rail came flocking to the station. They had eaten breakfast on board the boat, and were all ready for a fresh start. The train was in readiness in the long station house, and the engine was steaming and puffing away impatiently in the distant firing house.

4. It was past nine o'clock. "Come, why don't we start?" growled an old, fat Swede, who had been watching me narrowly for the last fifteen minutes. And upon this there was a general chorus of anxious inquiry, which soon settled to downright murmuring. At this juncture some one touched me on the elbow. I turned, and saw a stranger by my side. I thought that he was going to remonstrate with me for my backwardness. In fact, I began to have strong temptations to pull off my uniform, for every anxious eye was fixed upon the glaring badges which marked me as the chief officer of the train.

5. However, this stranger was a middle-aged man, tall and stout, with a face of great energy and intelligence. His eye was black and brilliant,--so brilliant that I could not gaze steadily into it, though I tried; and his lips, which were very thin, seemed more like polished marble than human flesh. His dress was black throughout, and not only set with exact nicety, but was scrupulously clean and neat.

6. "You want an engineer, I understand," he said in a low, cautious tone, at the same time gazing quietly about him, as though he wanted no one to hear what he said. "I do," I replied. "My train is all ready, and we have no engineer within twenty miles of this place." "Well, sir, I am going to Bromberg; I must go, and I will run the engine for you." "Ha!" I uttered, "are you an engineer?" "I am, sir--one of the oldest in the country--and am now on my way to make arrangements for a great improvement I have invented for the application of steam to a locomotive. My name is Martin Kroller. If you wish, I will run as far as Bromberg; and I will show you running that is running."

7. Was I not fortunate? I determined to accept the man's offer at once, and so I told him. He received my answer with a nod and a smile. I went with him to the house, where we found the engine in charge of the fireman, and all ready for a start. Kroller got upon the platform, and I followed him. I had never seen a man betray such a peculiar aptness amid machinery as he did. He let on the steam in an instant, but yet with care and judgment, and he backed up to the baggage carriage with the most exact nicety.

8. I had seen enough to assure me that he was thoroughly acquainted with the business, and I felt composed once more. I gave my engine up to the new man, and then hastened away to the office. Word was passed for all the passengers to take their seats, and soon afterward I waved my hand to the engineer. There was a puff, a groaning of the heavy axletrees, a trembling of the building, and the train was in motion. I leaped upon the platform of the guard carriage, and in a few minutes more the station house was far behind us.

9. In less than an hour we reached Dirschau, where we took up the passengers, that had come on the Konigsberg railway. Here I went forward and asked Kroller how he liked the engine. He replied that he liked it very much. "But," he added, with a strange sparkling of the eye, "wait until I get my improvement, and then you will see traveling. Why, I could run an engine of my construction to the moon in four and twenty hours?"

10. I smiled at what I thought his enthusiasm, and then went back to my station. As soon as the Konigsberg passengers were all on board, and their baggage carriage attached, we started on again. Soon after, I went into the guard carriage and sat down. An early train from Konigsberg had been through two hours before, and was awaiting us at Little Oscue, where we took on board the Western mail.

11. "How we go," uttered one of the guards, some fifteen minutes after we had left Dirschau. "The new engineer is trying the speed," I replied, not yet having any fear. But ere long I began to apprehend he was running a little too fast. The carriages began to sway to and fro, and I could hear exclamations of fright from the passengers. "Good heavens!" cried one of the guards, coming in at that moment, "what is that fellow doing? Look, sir, and see how we are going."

12. I looked at the window, and found that we were dashing along at a speed never before traveled on that road. Posts, fences, rocks, and trees flew by in one undistinguished mass, and the carriages now swayed fearfully. I started to my feet, and met a passenger on the platform. He was one of the chief owners of our road, and was just on his way to Berlin. He was pale and excited.

13. "Sir," he gasped, "is Martin Kroller on the engine?"

"Yes," I told him.

"What! didn't you know him?"

"Know?" I repeated, somewhat puzzled; "what do you mean? He told me his name was Kroller, and that he was an engineer. We had no one to run the engine, and--"

"You took him!" interrupted the man. "Good heavens, sir, he is as crazy as a man can be! He turned his brain over a new plan for applying steam power. I saw him at the station, but did not fully recognize him, as I was in a hurry. Just now one of your passengers told me that your engineers were all gone this morning, and that you found one that was a stranger to you. Then I knew the man whom I had seen was Martin Kroller. He had escaped from the hospital at Stettin. You must get him off somehow."

14. The whole fearful truth was now open to me. The speed of the train was increasing every moment, and I knew that a few more miles per hour would launch us all into destruction. I called to the guard and then made my way forward as quickly as possible. I reached the back platform of the tender, and there stood Kroller upon the engine board, his hat and coat off, his long black hair floating wildly in the wind, his shirt unbuttoned at the front, his sleeves rolled up, with a pistol in his teeth, and thus glaring upon the fireman, who lay motionless upon the fuel. The furnace was stuffed till the very latch of the door was red-hot, and the whole engine was quivering and swaying as though it would shiver to pieces.

15. "Kroller! Kroller'!" I cried, at the top of my voice. The crazy engineer started, and caught the pistol in his hand. Oh, how those great black eyes glared, and how ghastly and frightful the face looked!

"Ha! ha! ha!" he yelled demoniacally, glaring upon me like a roused lion.

"They said that I could not make it! But see! see! See my new power! See my new engine! I made it, and they are jealous of me! I made it, and when it was done, they stole it from me. But I have found it! For years I have been wandering in search of my great engine, and they said it was not made. But I have found it! I knew it this morning when I saw it at Dantzic, and I was determined to have it. And I've got it! Ho! ho! ho! we're on the way to the moon, I say! We'll be in the moon in four and twenty hours. Down, down, villain! If you move, I'll shoot you."

This was spoken to the poor fireman, who at that moment attempted to rise, and the frightened man sank back again.

16. "Here's Little Oscue just before us," cried out one of the guard. But even as he spoke, the buildings were at hand. A sickening sensation settled upon my heart, for I supposed that we were now gone. The houses flew by like lightning. I knew if the officers here had turned the switch as usual, we should be hurled into eternity in one fearful crash. I saw a flash,--it was another engine,--I closed my eyes; but still we thundered on! The officers had seen our speed, and knowing that we would not be able to stop, in that distance, they had changed the switch, so that we went forward.

17. But there was sure death ahead, if we did not stop. Only fifteen miles from us was the town of Schwetz, on the Vistula; and at the rate we were going we should be there in a few minutes, for each minute carried us over a mile. The shrieks of the passengers now rose above the crash of the rails, and more terrific than all else arose the demoniac yells of the mad engineer.

"Merciful heavens!" gasped the guardsman, "there's not a moment to lose; Schwetz is close. But hold," he added; "let's shoot him."

18. At that moment a tall, stout German student came over the platform where we stood, and saw that the mad-man had his heavy pistol aimed at us. He grasped a huge stick of wood, and, with a steadiness of nerve which I could not have commanded, he hurled it with such force and precision that he knocked the pistol from the maniac's hand. I saw the movement, and on the instant that the pistol fell, I sprang forward, and the German followed me. I grasped the man by the arm; but I should have been nothing in his mad power, had I been alone. He would have hurled me from the platform, had not the student at that moment struck him upon the head with a stick of wood, which he caught as he came over the tender.

19. Kroller settled down like a dead man, and on the next instant I shut off the steam and opened the valve. As the free steam shrieked and howled in its escape, the speed began to decrease, and in a few minutes more the danger was passed. As I settled back, entirely overcome by the wild emotions that had raged within me, we began to turn the river; and before I was fairly recovered, the fireman had stopped the train in the station house at Schwetz.

20. Martin Kroller, still insensible, was taken from the platform; and, as we carried him to the guard room, one of the guard recognized him, and told us that he had been there about two weeks before.

"He came," said the guard, "and swore that an engine which stood near by was his. He said it was one he had made to go to the moon in, and that it had been stolen from him. We sent for more help to arrest him, and he fled."

"Well," I replied, with a shudder, "I wish he had approached me in the same way; but he was more cautious at Dantzic."

At Schwartz we found an engineer to run the engine to Bromberg; and having taken out the western mail for the next northern mail to carry along, we saw that Kroller would be properly attended to, and then started on.

21. The rest of the trip we ran in safety, though I could see the passengers were not wholly at ease, and would not be until they were entirely clear of the railway. Martin Kroller remained insensible from the effects of the blow nearly two weeks; and when he recovered from that, he was sound again; his insanity was all gone. I saw him about three weeks afterward, but he had no recollection of me. He remembered nothing of the past year, not even his mad freak on my engine. But I remembered it, and I remember it still; and the people need never fear that I shall be imposed upon again by a crazy engineer.

DEFINITIONS.--2. Com'pe-tent, fit, qualified. 4. Junc'ture, point of time, crisis. Re-mon'strate, to present strong reasons against any course of proceedings. 7. Apt'ness, fitness, suitableness. 8. Com-posed', calm. 11. Ap-pre-hend', to entertain suspicion or fear of. 14. Ten'der, a car attached to a locomotive to supply it with fuel and water. 18. Pre-ci'sion (pro. pre-sizh'un), accuracy, exactness.

NOTE.--This incident is said to have taken place on the railway following the valley of the Vistula. River, in Prussia, from Dantzic to Bromberg. The cities mentioned are all in Prussia, excepting Stockholm, which is the capital of Sweden.

LXX. THE HERITAGE.

James Russell Lowell (b. 1819, d.1891) was born in Cambridge, Mass., and was graduated from Harvard College. He entered the profession of law; but, in 1843, turned aside to publish "The Pioneer, a Literary and Critical Magazine." In 1855 he was appointed professor of Belles-lettres in Harvard College. From 1877 to 1885 he was U.S. Minister, first to Spain, afterwards to Great Britain. Lowell's powers as a writer were very versatile, and his poems range from the most dreamy and imaginative to the most trenchant and witty. Among his most noted poetical works are "The Biglow Papers," "A Fable for Critics," "The Vision of Sir Launfal," "The Cathedral," and "The Legend of Brittany;" while "Conversations on some of the Old Poets," "Among my Books," and "My Study Windows," place him in the front rank as an essayist.

1. The rich man's son inherits lands, And piles of brick, and stone, and gold, And he inherits soft white hands, And tender flesh that fears the cold, Nor dares to wear a garment old; A heritage, it seems to me, One scarce would wish to hold in fee.

2. The rich man's son inherits cares; The bank may break, the factory burn, A breath may burst his bubble shares, And soft white hands could hardly earn A living that would serve his turn; A heritage, it seems to me, One scarce would wish to hold in fee.

3. The rich man's son inherits wants, His stomach craves for dainty fare; With sated heart, he hears the pants Of toiling hinds with brown arms bare! And wearies in his easy-chair; A heritage, it seems to me, One scarce would wish to hold in fee.

4. What doth the poor man's son inherit? Stout muscles and a sinewy heart, A hardy frame, a hardier spirit; King of two hands, he does his part In every useful toil and art; A heritage, it seems to me, A king might wish to hold in fee.

5. What doth the poor man's son inherit? Wishes o'erjoyed with humble things, A rank adjudged by toil-won merit, Content that from employment springs, A heart that in his labor sings; A heritage, it seems to me, A king might wish to hold in fee.

6. What doth the poor man's son inherit? A patience learned of being poor, Courage, if sorrow come, to bear it, A fellow-feeling that is sure To make the outcast bless his door; A heritage, it seems to me, A king might wish to hold in fee.

7. O rich man's son! there is a toil That with all others level stands: Large charity doth never soil, But only whiten soft, white hands,-- This is the best crop from thy lands; A heritage, it seems to me, Worth being rich to hold in fee.

8. O poor man's son! scorn not thy state; There is worse weariness than thine In merely being rich and great: Toil only gives the soul to shine, And makes rest fragrant and benign; A heritage, it seems to me, Worth being poor to hold in fee.

9. Both, heirs to some six feet of sod, Are equal in the earth at last; Both, children of the same dear God, Prove title to your heirship vast By record of a well-filled past; A heritage, it seems to me, Well worth a life to hold in fee.

DEFINITIONS.--1. Her'it-age, that which is inherited, or taken by descent, from an ancestor. 3. Sat'ed, surfeited, glutted. Hinds, peasants, countrymen. 5. Ad-judged', decided, determined. 8. Be-nign' (pro. be-nin'), having healthful qualities, wholesome.

NOTES.--1. To hold in fee, means to have as an inheritance. 9. Prove title. That is, to prove the right of ownership.

LXXI. NO EXCELLENCE WITHOUT LABOR.

William Wirt (b. 1772, d. 1834) was born in Bladensburg, Md. He was admitted to the bar in 1799, and afterwards practiced law, with eminent success, at Richmond and Norfolk, Va. He was one of the counsel for the prosecution in the trial of Aaron Burr for treason. From 1817 to 1829 he was attorney-general for the United States. In 1803 he published the "Letters of a British Spy," a work which attracted much attention, and in 1817 a "Life of Patrick Henry."

1. The education, moral and intellectual, of every individual, must be chiefly his own work. Rely upon it that the ancients were right; both in morals and intellect we give the final shape to our characters, and thus become, emphatically, the architects of our own fortune. How else could it happen that young men, who have had precisely the same opportunities, should be continually presenting us with such different results, and rushing to such opposite destinies?

2. Difference of talent will not solve it, because that difference is very often in favor of the disappointed candidate. You will see issuing from the walls of the same college, nay, sometimes from the bosom of the same family, two young men, of whom one will be admitted to be a genius of high order, the other scarcely above the point of mediocrity; yet you will see the genius sinking and perishing in poverty, obscurity, and wretchedness; while, on the other hand, you will observe the mediocre plodding his slow but sure way up the hill of life, gaining steadfast footing at every step, and mounting, at length, to eminence and distinction, an ornament to his family, a blessing to his country.

3. Now, whose work is this? Manifestly their own. They are the architects of their respective fortunes. The best seminary of learning that can open its portals to you can do no more than to afford you the opportunity of instruction; but it must depend, at last, on yourselves, whether you will be instructed or not, or to what point you will push your instruction.

4. And of this be assured, I speak from observation a certain truth: THERE IS NO EXCELLENCE WITHOUT GREAT LABOR. It is the fiat of fate, from which no power of genius can absolve you.

5. Genius, unexerted, is like the poor moth that flutters around a candle till it scorches itself to death. If genius be desirable at all, it is only of that great and magnanimous kind, which, like the condor of South America, pitches from the summit of Chimborazo, above the clouds, and sustains itself at pleasure in that empyreal region with an energy rather invigorated than weakened by the effort.

6. It is this capacity for high and long-continued exertion, this vigorous power of profound and searching investigation, this careering and wide-spreading comprehension of mind, and these long reaches of thought, that

"Pluck bright honor from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the bottom of the deep, And pluck up drowned honor by the locks;"

this is the prowess, and these the hardy achievements, which are to enroll your names among the great men of the earth.

DEFINITIONS.--1. Mor'al, relating to duty or obligation. Ar'-chi-tects, builders, makers. Des'ti-ny, ultimate fate, appointed condition. 2. Can'di-date, one who seeks after some honor or office. Gen'ius (pro. jen'yus), a man of superior intellectual powers. Me-di-oc'ri-ty, a middle state or degree of talents. Me'di-o-cre (pro. me'di-o-kr), a man of moderate talents. 3. Re-spec'tive, particular, own. 4. Ab-solve', set free, release from. Fi'at, a decree. 5. Con'-dor, a large bird of the vulture family. Em-pyr'e-al, relating to the highest and purest region of the heavens. 6. Ca-reer'ing, moving rapidly. Prow'ess (pro. prou'es), bravery, boldness.

NOTES.--5. Chimborazo (pro. chim-bo-ra'zo), is an extinct volcano in Ecuador, whose height is 20,517 feet above the sea.

6. The quotation is from Shakespeare's "King Henry IV," Part I, Act II