Other editions of book William Tell Told Again

Most children are familiar with the legend of William Tell, the Swiss hero who successfully shot a cross bolt through an apple placed on his son's head gaining his and his son's life from the evil Austrian, Gessler.William Tell Told Again by P.G. Wodehouse gives the legend new life.In this book the tale of Tell is retold, with variations. So much doubt has been cast on William Tell's doings-some going to the length of saying that he never existed--that the publishers feel that this book should be a valuable contribution to the history of the great archer, as showing what it was that he really did.This is the classic story of William Tell - Swiss patriot and great apple-shooter - as seen through the eyes of English humorist P.G. Wodehouse. No Swiss were (permanently) injured in the telling of this story; however, results differed for Austrian tyrants.

Although many might not recognize the name P.G. Wodehouse, they have inevitably come across his work. Wodehouse was a British humorist who wrote novels, short stories, journalism pieces, and other stuff, becoming extremely popular over a 70 year career. Today he is best known for the Jeeves and Blandings Castle novels and short stories, but he was also a playwright and lyricist who was part author and writer of 15 plays and 250 lyrics. Both the name "Jeeves" and the character of Jeeves have become a common part of the English lexicon, meaning a valet or chauffeur. It is even the inspiration behind the popular search engine Ask Jeeves.

Once upon a time, more years ago than anybody can remember, before the first hotel had been built or the first Englishman had taken a photograph of Mont Blanc and brought it home to be pasted in an album and shown after tea to his envious friends, Switzerland belonged to the Emperor of Austria, to do what he liked with. One of the first things the Emperor did was to send his friend Hermann Gessler to govern the country. Gessler was not a nice man, and it soon became plain that he would never make himself really popular with the Swiss. The point on which they disagreed in particular was the question of taxes. The Swiss, who were a simple and thrifty people, objected to paying taxes of any sort. They said they wanted to spend their money on all kinds of other things. Gessler, on the other hand, wished to put a tax on everything, and, being Governor, he did it. He made everyone who owned a flock of sheep pay a certain sum of money to him; and if the farmer sold his sheep and bought cows, he had to pay rather more money to Gessler for the cows than he had paid for the sheep. Gessler also taxed bread, and biscuits, and jam, and buns, and lemonade, and, in fact, everything he could think of, till the people of Switzerland determined to complain. They appointed Walter Fürst, who had red hair and looked fierce; Werner Stauffacher, who had gray hair and was always wondering how he ought to pronounce his name; and Arnold of Melchthal, who had light-yellow hair and was supposed to know a great deal about the law, to make the complaint. They called on the Governor one lovely morning in April, and were shown into the Hall of Audience.

Most children are familiar with the legend of William Tell, the Swiss hero who successfully shot a cross bolt through an apple placed on his son's head gaining his and his son's life from the evil Austrian, Gessler. William Tell Told Again by P.G. Wodehouse gives the legend new life. In this book the tale of Tell is retold, with variations. So much doubt has been cast on William Tell's doings-some going to the length of saying that he never existed--that the publishers feel that this book should be a valuable contribution to the history of the great archer, as showing what it was that he really did. This is the classic story of William Tell - Swiss patriot and great apple-shooter - as seen through the eyes of English humorist P.G. Wodehouse. No Swiss were (permanently) injured in the telling of this story; however, results differed for Austrian tyrants.

William Tell Told Again CHAPTER I Once upon a time, more years ago than anybody can remember, before the first hotel had been built or the first Englishman had taken a photograph of Mont Blanc and brought it home to be pasted in an album and shown after tea to his envious friends, Switzerland belonged to the Emperor of Austria, to do what he liked with. One of the first things the Emperor did was to send his friend Hermann Gessler to govern the country. Gessler was not a nice man, and it soon became plain that he would never make himself really popular with the Swiss. The point on which they disagreed in particular was the question of taxes. The Swiss, who were a simple and thrifty people, objected to paying taxes of any sort. They said they wanted to spend their money on all kinds of other things. Gessler, on the other hand, wished to put a tax on everything, and, being Governor, he did it. He made everyone who owned a flock of sheep pay a certain sum of money to him; and if the farmer sold his sheep and bought cows, he had to pay rather more money to Gessler for the cows than he had paid for the sheep. Gessler also taxed bread, and biscuits, and jam, and buns, and lemonade, and, in fact, everything he could think of, till the people of Switzerland determined to complain. They appointed Walter Fürst, who had red hair and looked fierce; Werner Stauffacher, who had gray hair and was always wondering how he ought to pronounce his name; and Arnold of Melchthal, who had light-yellow hair and was supposed to know a great deal about the law, to make the complaint. They called on the Governor one lovely morning in April, and were shown into the Hall of Audience.