use they
desired to pay the highest of honors to Beowulf, they buried in it the
whole of the treasure that the dragon had guarded, for no price was too
heavy to pay as a token of their love for their lord. So the treasure
even now remains in the earth, as useless as it was before.

When at last the mound was completed, the noble warriors gathered
together and rode around it, lamenting their king and singing the praise
of his valor and mighty deeds.

Thus mourned the people of the Geats for the fall of Beowulf, who of all
kings in the world was the mildest and kindest, the most gracious to his
people, and the most eager to win their praise.

THE GOOD KING ARTHUR

Probably every one knows the story of the great King Arthur who, the
legends say, ruled in Britain so many, many years ago and gathered about
him in his famous Round Table, knights of splendid courage, tried and
proven. So well loved was the story of Arthur in other countries as well
as in England that it was among the very first works ever printed in
Europe, and it was still welcomed centuries later when the great English
poet, Alfred Tennyson, told it in his _Idylls of the King_.

The boy Arthur was really the son of King Uther Pendragon, but few
persons knew of his birth. Uther had given him into the care of the
enchanter Merlin, who had carried him to the castle of Sir Hector,[1] an
old friend of Uther's. Here the young prince lived as a child of the
house.

Now Merlin was a very wise man, and when King Uther died several years
later the noblemen asked his advice in choosing a new king.

"Gather together in St. Stephen's Church in London, on Christmas Day,"
was all the enchanter answered.

So the knights assembled, and when the mass was over and they passed out
into the churchyard, there they beheld a large block of stone, upon
which rested a heavy anvil. The blade of a jeweled sword was sunk deeply
into the anvil.

Wondering, the noblemen drew near. One of them discovered an inscription
upon the hilt which said that none but the man who could draw out the
sword should ever rule in Uther's place. One by one they tried, but the
sword was firmly imbedded. No one could draw it forth.

Arthur was only a baby at this time, but some years later Sir Hector
traveled up to London, bringing with him his own son, Sir Kay, and his
foster son, Arthur. Sir Kay had just reached manhood and was to take
part in his first tournament. Imagine his distress,