By the advice of a friend, at whose house he concealed himself, Gustavus repaired to Mira, where an annual feast of the peasantry was held. There, as his last resource, he displayed with so much mature eloquence and energy the miseries of his country and the tyranny of Christian, that the assembly instantly determined to take up arms and adopt him as their leader. While their hearts were overflowing with an ardent patriotism, Gustavus led them against the governor’s Castle, which they stormed, and took or destroyed the whole garrison. Success increased his forces; multitudes were eager to enlist under the banner of the conquering hero, Gustavus. At the head of his little army, he overran the neighbouring provinces—defeated the Archbishop of Upsala, and advanced to Stockholm. Christian, who had in vain attempted to stop the progress of Gustavus, by the threat of massacreing his mother and sisters, at length put the dreadful menace into execution. This cruel deed only animated Gustavus to a bloody revenge, and warmed more fiercely the blood of his devoted followers. Gustavus now went forward only to triumph, and, having overcome all opposition, he assembled the states of Sweden at Wadstena, where he received the title of Administrator of the Kingdom, and in 1523 they proclaimed him King. He then set himself zealously to work in the reformation of the abuses both of Church and State. The Lutheran religion began to gain ground; the Scriptures were preached; the lazy drones of the church were shorn of their wealth, and compelled to do their duty; and, while the Danes were completely expelled from Sweden, Gustavus conquered all the internal treacherous enemies of Freedom. Although Sweden was a “limited monarchy,” so great a faith had the people in the justice and love of freedom which Gustavus possessed, that they granted him almost unlimited powers, and this power he never used in the least, but for the good of his country. He perfected the legislation, softened manners, encouraged industry and learning, and extended commerce. After a glorious reign of thirty-seven years, he died in 1560, at the age of seventy, leaving behind him a character, which the brave boys of England may love and venerate. [Illustration] The Town Pump. A STORY OF THE COW WITH AN IRON TAIL. Noon by the Town Clock; noon, by the shadow of the blessed sun on the dial face, on the face of the Town Pump. High, hot, scorching, melting, smelting noon. Noon, by the thermometer at eighty-two degrees; noon, by the whirr of the dragon-fly,[A] and the quivering haze over the meadow; noon, by heat without and heat within, and by every melting moment. Come, then, my younkers, fresh from school, where you have been turning over dictionaries and spelling, with sweaty fingers—come and take another lesson. Come and shake hands with the Town Pump! [A] The dragon-fly _rests_ at noontide, and flies most actively towards sundown. [Illustration]