How to Tell Stories to Children, and Some Stories to Tell | ||
THE LITTLE HERO OF HAARLEM[1]
A long way off, across the ocean, there is a little country where the ground is lower than the level of the sea, instead of higher, as it is here. Of course the water would run in and cover the land and houses, if something were
Once there was a little boy who lived in that country, whose name was Hans. One day, he took his little brother out to play. They went a long way out of the town, and came to where there were no houses, but ever so many flowers and green fields. By-and-by, Hans climbed up on the dike, and sat down; the little brother was playing about at the foot of the bank.
Suddenly the little brother called out, "Oh, what a funny little hole! It bubbles!''
"Hole? Where?'' said Hans.
"Here in the bank,'' said the little brother; "water's in it.''
"What!'' said Hans, and he slid down as fast as he could to where his brother was playing.
There was the tiniest little hole in the bank. Just an air-hole. A drop of water bubbled slowly through.
"It is a hole in the dike!'' cried Hans. "What shall we do?''
Suddenly a thought came to Hans. He stuck his little forefinger right into the hole, where it fitted tight; and he said to his little brother, "Run, Dieting! Go to the town and tell the men there's a hole in the dike. Tell them I will keep it stopped till they get here.''
The little brother knew by Hans' face that something very serious was the matter, and he started for the town, as fast as his legs could run. Hans, kneeling with his finger in the hole, watched him grow smaller and smaller as he got farther away.
Soon he was as small as a chicken; then he was only a speck; then he was out of sight. Hans was alone, his finger tight in the bank.
He could hear the water, slap, slap, slap, on the stones; and deep down under the slapping was a gurgling, rumbling sound. It seemed very near.
By-and-by, his hand began to feel numb. He rubbed it with the other hand; but it got colder
As his ear touched the dike, he heard the voice of the great sea, murmuring. The sound seemed to say,—
"I am the great sea. No one can stand against me. What are you, a little child, that you try to keep me out? Beware! Beware!''
Hans' heart beat in heavy knocks. Would they never come? He was frightened.
And the water went on beating at the wall, and murmuring, "I will come through, I will come through, I will get you, I will get you, run—run—before I come through!''
Hans started to pull out his finger; he was so frightened that he felt as if he must run for ever.
"You shall not come through!'' he whispered, "I will not run!''
At that moment, he heard a far-off shout. Far in the distance he saw a black something on the road, and dust. The men were coming! At last, they were coming. They came nearer, fast, and he could make out his own father, and the neighbours. They had pickaxes and shovels, and they were running. And as they ran they shouted, "We're coming; take heart, we're coming!''
The next minute, it seemed, they were there. And when they saw Hans, with his pale face, and his hand tight in the dike, they gave a great cheer,—just as people do for soldiers back from war; and they lifted him up and rubbed his aching arm with tender hands, and they told him that he was a real hero and that he had saved the town.
When the men had mended the dike, they marched home like an army, and Hans was carried high on their shoulders, because he was a hero. And to this day the people of Haarlem tell the story of how a little boy saved the dike.
How to Tell Stories to Children, and Some Stories to Tell | ||