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them very quiet and good.

      There was a large castle in Scotland which the English had taken early in the war. The Scottish soldiers wanted very much to take it again, and the Black Douglas and his men went one day to see what they could do. It happened to be a holiday, and most of the English soldiers in the castle were eating and drinking and having a merry time. But they had left watchmen on the wall to see that the Scottish soldiers did not come upon them unawares; and so they felt quite safe.

      In the evening, when it was growing dark, the wife of one of the soldiers went up on the wall with her child in her arms. As she looked over into the fields below the castle, she saw some dark objects moving toward the foot of the wall. In the dusk, she could not make out what they were, and so she pointed them out to one of the watchmen.

      “Pooh, pooh!” said the watchman. “Those are nothing to frighten us. They are the farmer’s cattle, trying to find their way home. The farmer himself is enjoying the holiday, and he has forgotten to bring them in. If the Douglas should happen this way before morning, he will be sorry for his carelessness.”

      But the dark objects were not cattle. They were the Black Douglas and his men, creeping on hands and feet toward the foot of the castle wall. Some of them were dragging ladders behind them through the grass. They would soon be climbing to the top of the wall. None of the English soldiers dreamed that they were within many miles of the place.

      The woman watched them until the last one had passed around a corner out of sight. She was not afraid, for in the darkening twilight they looked indeed like cattle. After a little while she began to sing to her child:—

      “Hush ye, hush ye, little pet ye,

      Hush ye, hush ye, do not fret ye,

      The Black Douglas shall not get ye.”

      All at once a gruff voice was heard behind her, saying, “Don’t be so sure about that!”

      She looked around, and there stood the Black Douglas himself. At the same moment a Scottish soldier climbed off a ladder and leaped upon the wall; and then there came another and another and another, until the wall was covered with them. Soon there was hot fighting in every part of the castle. But the English were so taken by surprise that they could not do much. Many of them were killed, and in a little while the Black Douglas and his men were the masters of the castle, which by right belonged to them.

      As for the woman and her child, the Black Douglas would not suffer any one to harm them. After a while they went back to England; and whether the mother made up any more songs about the Black Douglas I cannot tell.

      There is a town in England called Gotham, and many merry stories are told of the queer people who used to live there.

      One day two men of Gotham met on a bridge. Hodge was coming from the market, and Peter was going to the market.

      “Where are you going?” said Hodge.

      “I am going to the market to buy sheep,” said Peter.

      “Buy sheep?” said Hodge. “And which way will you bring them home?”

      “I shall bring them over this bridge,” said Peter.

      “No, you shall not,” said Hodge.

      “Yes, but I will,” said Peter.

      “You shall not,” said Hodge.

      “I will,” said Peter.

      Then they beat with their sticks on the ground as though there had been a hundred sheep between them.

      “Take care!” cried Peter. “Look out that my sheep don’t jump on the bridge.”

      “I care not where they jump,” said Hodge; “but they shall not go over it.”

      “But they shall,” said Peter.

      “Have a care,” said Hodge; “for if you say too much, I will put my fingers in your mouth.”

      “Will you?” said Peter.

      Just then another man of Gotham came from the market with a sack of meal on his horse. He heard his neighbors quarreling about sheep; but he could see no sheep between them, and so he stopped and spoke to them.

      “Ah, you foolish fellows!” he cried. “It is strange that you will never learn wisdom.—Come here, Peter, and help me lay my sack on my shoulder. “

      Peter did so, and the man carried his meal to the side of the bridge.

      “Now look at me,” he said, “and learn a lesson.” And he opened the mouth of the sack, and poured all the meal into the river.

      “Now, neighbors,” he said, “can you tell how much meal is in my sack?”

      “There is none at all!” cried Hodge and Peter together.

      “You are right,” said the man; “and you that stand here and quarrel about nothing, have no more sense in your heads than I have meal in my sack!”

      One day, news was brought to Gotham that the king was coming that way, and that he would pass through the town. This did not please the men of Gotham at all. They hated the king, for they knew that he was a cruel, bad man. If he came to their town, they would have to find food and lodging for him and his men; and if he saw anything that pleased him, he would be sure to take it for his own. What should they do?

      They met together to talk the matter over.

      “Let us chop down the big trees in the woods, so that they will block up all the roads that lead into the town,” said one of the wise men.

      “Good!” said all the rest.

      So they went out with their axes, and soon all the roads and paths to the town were filled with logs and brush. The king’s horsemen would have a hard time of it getting into Gotham. They would either have to make a new road, or give up the plan altogether, and go on to some other place.

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