stories to tell to children-第12节

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were　only　five　or　six　drops　of　water　in　the

bottle；　however；　and　he　did　not　dare　to　drink。

So　he　was　putting　the　flask　away　again　when　he

saw　a　little　dog　on　the　rocks；　gasping　for　breath。

He　looked　at　it；　and　then　at　the　Golden　River；

and　he　remembered　the　dwarf's　words；　〃No

one　can　succeed　except　at　the　first　trial〃；　and

he　tried　to　pass　the　dog。　　But　it　whined

piteously；　and　Gluck　stopped。　　He　could　not　bear

to　pass　it。　　〃Confound　the　King　and　his　gold；

too！〃　he　said；　and　he　poured　the　few　drops　of

water　into　the　dog's　mouth。



The　dog　sprang　up；　its　tail　disappeared；　its

nose　grew　red；　and　its　eyes　twinkled。　　The　next

minute　the　dog　was　gone；　and　the　King　of　the

Golden　River　stood　there。　　He　stooped　and

plucked　a　lily　that　grew　beside　Gluck's　feet。

Three　drops　of　dew　were　on　its　white　leaves。

These　the　dwarf　shook　into　the　flask　which　Gluck

held　in　his　hand。



〃Cast　these　into　the　river；〃　he　said；　〃and　go

down　the　other　side　of　the　mountains　into　the

Treasure　Valley。〃　　Then　he　disappeared。



Gluck　stood　on　the　brink　of　the　Golden　River；

and　cast　the　three　drops　of　dew　into　the　stream。

Where　they　fell；　a　little　whirlpool　opened；　but

the　water　did　not　turn　to　gold。　　Indeed；　the

water　seemed　vanishing　altogether。　　Gluck　was

disappointed　not　to　see　gold；　but　he　obeyed　the

King　of　the　Golden　River；　and　went　down　the

other　side　of　the　mountains。



When　he　came　out　into　the　Treasure　Valley；

a　river；　like　the　Golden　River；　was　springing

from　a　new　cleft　in　the　rocks　above；　and　flowing

among　the　heaps　of　dry　sand。　　And　then　fresh

grass　sprang　beside　the　river；　flowers　opened

along　its　sides；　and　vines　began　to　cover　the

whole　valley。　　The　Treasure　Valley　was　becoming

a　garden　again。



Gluck　lived　in　the　Valley；　and　his　grapes　were

blue；　and　his　apples　were　red；　and　his　corn　was

yellow；　and　the　poor　were　never　driven　from

his　door。　　For　him；　as　the　King　had　promised；

the　river　was　really　a　River　of　Gold。





It　will　probably　be　clear　to　anyone　who　has

followed　these　attempts；　that　the　first　step　in

adaptation　is　analysis；　careful　analysis　of　the

story　as　it　stands。　　One　asks　oneself；　What　is

the　story？　　Which　events　are　necessary　links　in

the　chain？　　How　much　of　the　text　is　pure

description？



Having　this　essential　body　of　the　story　in

mind；　one　then　decides　which　of　the　steps　toward

the　climax　are　needed　for　safe　arrival　there；　and

keeps　these。　　When　two　or　more　steps　can　be

covered　in　a　single　stride；　one　makes　the　stride。

When　a　necessary　explanation　is　unduly　long；　or

is　woven　into　the　story　in　too　many　strands；　one

disposes　of　it　in　an　introductory　statement；　or

perhaps　in　a　side　remark。　　If　there　are　two　or

more　threads　of　narrative；　one　chooses　among

them；　and　holds　strictly　to　the　one　chosen；

eliminating　details　which　concern　the　others。



In　order　to　hold　the　simplicity　of　plot　so

attained；　it　is　also　desirable　to　have　but　few

personages　in　the　story；　and　to　narrate　the　action

from　the　point　of　view　of　one　of　them；usually

the　hero。　　To　shift　the　point　of　view　of　the

action　is　confusing　to　the　child's　mind。



When　the　analysis　and　condensation　have

been　accomplished；　the　whole　must　be　cast　in

simple　language；　keeping　if　possible　the　same

kind　of　speech　as　that　used　in　the　original；　but

changing　difficult　or　technical　terms　to　plain；

and　complex　images　to　simple　and　familiar　ones。



All　types　of　adaptation　share　in　this　need　of

simple　language；stories　which　are　too　short；

as　well　as　those　which　are　too　long；　have　this

feature　in　their　changed　form。　　The　change　in　a

short　story　is　applied　oftenest　where　it　becomes

desirable　to　amplify　a　single　anecdote；　or

perhaps　a　fable；　which　is　told　in　very　condensed

form。　　Such　an　instance　is　the　following　anecdote

of　heroism；　which　in　the　original　is　quoted　in

one　of　F。　W。　Robertson's　lectures　on　Poetry。





A　detachment　of　troops　was　marching　along　a　valley；

the　cliffs　overhanging　which　were　crested　by　the　enemy。　　A

sergeant；　with　eleven　men；　chanced　to　become　separated　from

the　rest　by　taking　the　wrong　side　of　a　ravine；　which　they

expected　soon　to　terminate；　but　which　suddenly　deepened

into　an　impassable　chasm。　　The　officer　in　command　signalled

to　the　party　an　order　to　return。　　They　mistook　the　signal　for

a　command　to　charge；　the　brave　fellows　answered　with　a

cheer；　and　charged。　　At　the　summit　of　the　steep　mountain

was　a　triangular　platform；　defended　by　a　breastwork；　behind

which　were　seventy　of　the　foe。　　On　they　went；　charging　up

one　of　those　fearful　paths；　eleven　against　seventy。　　The

contest　could　not　long　be　doubtful　with　such　odds。　　One

after　another　they　fell；　six　upon　the　spot；　the　remainder

hurled　backwards；　but　not　until　they　had　slain　nearly　twice

their　own　number。



There　is　a　custom；　we　are　told；　amongst　the　hillsmen；　that

when　a　great　chieftain　of　their　own　falls　in　battle；　his　wrist　is

bound　with　a　thread　either　of　red　or　green；　the　red　denoting

the　highest　rank。　　According　to　custom；　they　stripped　the

dead；　and　threw　their　bodies　over　the　precipice。　　When　their

comrades　came；　they　found　their　corpses　stark　and　gashed；

but　round　both　wrists　of　every　British　hero　was　twined　the

red　thread！





This　anecdote　serves　its　purpose　of　illustration

perfectly　well；　but　considered　as　a　separate

story　it　is　somewhat　too　explanatory　in　diction；

and　too　condensed　in　form。　　Just　as　the　long

story　is　analysed　for　reduction　of　given　details；

so　this　must　be　analysed；to　find　the　details

implied。　　We　have　to　read　into　it　again　all　that

has　been　left　between　the　lines。



Moreover；　the　order　must　be　slightly　changed；

if　we　are　to　end　with　the　proper　〃snap；〃　the

final　sting　of　surprise　and　admiration　given　by

the　point　of　the　story；　the　point　must　be　prepared

for。　　The　purpose　of　the　original　is　equally

well　served　by　the　explanation　at　the　end；　but

we　must　never　forget　that　the　place　for　the

climax；　or　effective　point　in　a　story　told；　is　the

last　thing　said。　　That　is　what　makes　a　story

〃go　off〃　well。



Imagining　vividly　the　situation　suggested；　and

keeping　the　logical　sequence　of　facts　in　mind；

shall　we　not　find　the　story　telling　itself　to　boys

and　girls　in　somewhat　this　form？





THE　RED　THREAD　OF　COURAGE＇1＇



＇1＇　See　also　The　Red　Thread　of　Honour；　by　Sir　Francis　Doyle；

in　Lyra　Heroica；





This　story　which　I　am　going　to　tell　you　is　a

true　one。　　It　happened　while　the　English　troops

in　India　were　fighting　against　some　of　the　native

tribes。　　The　natives　who　were　making　trouble

were　people　from　the　hill…country；　called

Hillsmen；　and　they　were　strong　enemies。　　The

English　knew　very　little　about　them；　except

their　courage；　but　they　had　noticed　one　peculiar

custom；　after　certain　battles；the　Hillsmen　had

a　way　of　marking　the　bodies　of　their　greatest

chiefs　who　were　killed　in　battle　by　binding　a　red

thread　about　the　wrist；　this　was　the　highest

tribute　they　could　pay　a　hero。　　The　English；

however；　found　the　common　men　of　them　quite

enough　to　handle；　for　they　had　proved　themselves

good　fighters　and　clever　at　ambushes。



One　day；　a　small　body　of　the　English　had

marched　a　long　way　into　the　hill　country；　after

the　enemy；　and　in　the　afternoon　they　found

themselves　in　a　part　of　the　country　strange

even　to　the　guides。　　The　men　moved　forward

very　slowly　and　cautiously；　for　fear　of　an

ambush。　　The　trail　led　into　a　narrow　valley　with

very　steep；　high；　rocky　sides；　topped　with　woods

in　which　the　enemy　might　easily　hide。



Here　the　soldiers　were　ordered　to　advance

more　quickly；　though　with　caution；　to　get　out

of　the　dangerous　place。



After　a　little　they　came　suddenly　to　a　place

where　the　passage　was　divided　in　two　by　a　big

three…cornered　boulder　which　seemed　to　rise

from　the　midst　of　the　valley。　　The　main　line

of　men　kept　to　the　right；　to　save　crowding　the

path；　a　sergeant　and　eleven　men　took　the　left；

meaning　to　go　round　the　rock　and　meet　the　rest

beyond　it。



They　had　been　in　the　path　only　a　few　minutes

when　they　saw　that　the　rock　was　not　a　single

boulder　at　all；　but　an　arm　of　the　left　wall　of　the

valley；　and　that　they　were　marching　into　a　deep

ravine　with　no　outlet　except　the　way　they　came。

Both　sides　were　sheer　rock；　almost　perpendicular；

with　thick　trees　at　the　top；　in　front　of

them　the　ground　rose　in　a　steep　hill；　bare　of

woods。　　As　they　looked　up；　they　saw　that　the

top　was　barricaded　by　the　trunks　of　trees；　and

guarded　by　a　strong　body　of　Hillsmen。　　As　the

English　hesitated；　looking　at　this；　a　shower　of

spears　fell　from　the　wood's　edge；　aimed　by

hidden　foes。　　The　place　was　a　death　trap。



At　this　moment；　their　danger　was　seen　by　the

officer　in　command　of　the　main　body；　and　he

signalled　to　the　sergeant　to　retreat。



By　some　terrible　mischance；　the　signal　was

misunderstood。　　The　men　took　it　for　the　signal