Summary

Doris Hayman The Children's Longfellow

When Hiawatha returned, fierce anger rose in his heart. "I will slay this mischief-maker," said he, "even if I have to search the world for him." Together with other hunters he set out in hot pursuit, but cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis outstripped them all and ran, swift as an antelope, till he came to a stream in the midst of a forest where the beavers had built a dam. "Change me into a beaver," he entreated them, "and make me larger than yourselves, so that I may be your ruler and king."
Source: Gutenberg

Doris Hayman The Children's Longfellow

Then Hiawatha raised his hands to heaven and called the thunder and lightning to his aid. Stronger than any mortal power, the tempest smote the rocks till they fell to fragments, and there beneath the crags lay Pau-Puk-Keewis dead in his own human form.
This was Hiawatha's last victory—grief and loss were now to be his portion. The death of his two friends, Chibiabos and Kwasind, weighed on his mind, and, hardest of all, a long and dreary winter, bringing the specters of famine and fever in its train, came upon the land and robbed Hiawatha of his dearest treasure, his beautiful young wife.
Source: Gutenberg

Doris Hayman The Children's Longfellow

One hot summer's morning, weary from working in his plot of garden, Ser Federigo sat on a wooden bench beneath the shelter of his cottage eaves thinking dreamily of the past and of the happiness which might have been his, while the falcon by his side was dreaming also. Suddenly he started up on his perch, shook his bells, and looked eagerly at his master as if to say, "Ser Federigo, shall we not go a-hunting?" But his master's thoughts were far away, and he did not stir. Presently he looked up in amazement.
Source: Gutenberg

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