Short Stories for English Courses

istmas, in the yea

of clearest, faintest azure bending overhead; in the centre of the aerial landscape the massive walls of the cloister of Pfalzel, gray to the east, purple to the west; silence over all,

ere had been a strange and joyful stir among the nuns. A breeze of curiosit

cares. In the huge kitchen there was a bustle of hospitable preparation. The little bandy-legged dogs that kept the spits turning before the fires had been trotting steadily for m

element. It was a fiel

flocks like merry snow-birds, all in black and white, chattering and whispering together. This was no day for tedious task-work, no day for grammar or arithmetic, no day for picking out illu

at preacher; a wonderful scholar; he had written a Latin grammar himself,-think of it,-and he could hardly sleep without a

tescelle, even though they had chosen him as the abbot; he had refused a bishopric at the court o

red for years, with a handful of companions, sleeping under the trees, crossing mountains and marshes

still young; the smooth skin was bronzed by wind and sun. His gray eyes, clear and kind, flashed like f

been at Rome and received the Pope's blessing. But to-day he had spoken of long journeyings by sea and land; of perils by fire and flood; of wolves and bears and fierce s

lding closely together, half in fear, half in delight. The older nuns had turned from their tasks and paused, in passing by, to hear the pilgrim's story. Too well they knew the truth of what he spoke. Many a one

ver; the hour of the evening meal had come; the inma

and cuffs of her long white robe trimmed with fur, and a snowy veil resting like a crown on her snowy hair. At her right hand was

unbeams striking upwards through the tops of the windows and painting a pink glow high up on the walls,-it was all as beautiful as a picture, and as silent. F

grandson to read to-da

see how much he has

he place in the

arked place was in the letter of St. Paul to the Ephesians,-the passage where he describes the preparation of the Christian as the arming of a

e, as the reader paused, "that was bravely

read this epistle clear through, from beginning to end, so that I almost know it by heart."

him with a friendly

I ask whether thou hast heard what He has said to thee, in thine own words, in the common speech. Come, give us a

and the life of priests and nuns in the cloister, for which my grandmother designs me, though it likes me little. And fighting I know, and the life of warriors and heroes, for I have read of it in Virgil and the ancients, and heard a bit from the soldiers at Treves; and I w

and closed it, clasping th

ers to their vespers," said h

ny feet over the rushes on the floor; the gentle tide of noise flowed out through the doors and ebbe

ate the parable of the soldie

o ventured into the gloomy forest. Gods, they called them, and told strange tales of their dwelling among the impenetrable branches of the oldest trees and in the caverns of the shaggy hills; of their riding on the wind-horses and hurling spears of lightning against their foes. Gods they were not, but foul sp

e! It is a garden full of flowers in the heart of winter; a nest among the branches of a great tree shaken by the winds; a still haven on

at religion means to those who are called and chosen to dare and to fight, and to conquer the world for Christ? It means to launch out into the deep. It means to go against the strongholds of the adversary. It means to struggle to win an entrance for their Master everyw

had struck him. He thrust out his foot, covered with a heavy

hem; ten pair of them have I worn out and thrown away in a single journey. Now I shoe my feet with the toughest hides, hard as iron; no rock can cut them, no branches can tear them. Yet more than one pair of these have I outworn, and many more shall I

forester's boots with me. This is the life to which we are called. Be strong in the Lo

turned to his grandmother. S

from my side with these wild words. I need him

" asked Winfried; "and will you take the wo

ife is too hard for him. He will

ons were exhausted; we must go without breakfast, and perhaps starve before we could escape from the wilderness. While they complained, a fish-hawk flew up from the river wit

y pierce the boy with their arrows, or dash out his brains with t

And if the hero must fall early in the battle, he wears th

he drew Gregor close to her side, and

s, there is no horse in the stable to give him, now,

d straight i

f thou wilt not give me a horse to ride with