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MATLAB®
Mathematics
R2023a
How to Contact MathWorks
Phone: 508-647-7000
Linear Algebra
2
Matrices in the MATLAB Environment . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-2
Creating Matrices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-2
Adding and Subtracting Matrices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-3
Vector Products and Transpose . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-3
Multiplying Matrices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-5
Identity Matrix . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-7
Matrix Inverse . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-7
Kronecker Tensor Product . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-8
Vector and Matrix Norms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-8
Using Multithreaded Computation with Linear Algebra Functions . . . . . . . 2-9
Factorizations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-20
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-20
Cholesky Factorization . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-20
LU Factorization . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-21
QR Factorization . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-22
Using Multithreaded Computation for Factorization . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-25
v
Powers and Exponentials . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-26
Eigenvalues . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-30
Eigenvalue Decomposition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-30
Multiple Eigenvalues . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-31
Schur Decomposition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-31
Random Numbers
3
Why Do Random Numbers Repeat After Startup? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3-2
vi Contents
Creating and Controlling a Random Number Stream . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3-19
Substreams . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3-19
Choosing a Random Number Generator . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3-21
Configuring a Stream . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3-24
Restore State of Random Number Generator to Reproduce Output . . . . . 3-25
Sparse Matrices
4
Computational Advantages of Sparse Matrices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4-2
Memory Management . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4-2
Computational Efficiency . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4-2
vii
Iterative Methods for Linear Systems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4-56
Direct vs. Iterative Methods . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4-56
Generic Iterative Algorithm . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4-57
Summary of Iterative Methods . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4-57
Choosing an Iterative Solver . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4-59
Preconditioners . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4-60
Equilibration and Reordering . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4-62
Using Linear Operators Instead of Matrices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4-64
References . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4-64
Add Graph Node Names, Edge Weights, and Other Attributes . . . . . . . . 5-13
viii Contents
Polynomial Curve Fitting . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6-11
Computational Geometry
7
Triangulation Representations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7-2
2-D and 3-D Domains . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7-2
Triangulation Matrix Format . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7-3
Querying Triangulations Using the triangulation Class . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7-4
Interpolation
8
Gridded and Scattered Sample Data . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8-2
Interpolation versus Curve Fitting . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8-2
Grid Approximation Techniques . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8-3
ix
Interpolation of Multiple 1-D Value Sets . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8-13
Optimization
9
Optimizing Nonlinear Functions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9-2
Minimizing Functions of One Variable . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9-2
Minimizing Functions of Several Variables . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9-3
Maximizing Functions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9-4
fminsearch Algorithm . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9-4
Reference . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9-6
x Contents
States of the Algorithm . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9-17
Stop Flag . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9-18
Function Handles
10
Parameterizing Functions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10-2
Overview . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10-2
Parameterizing Using Nested Functions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10-2
Parameterizing Using Anonymous Functions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10-3
xi
Solve Stiff ODEs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11-23
xii Contents
Solve BVP with Singular Term . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12-25
xiii
Numerical Integration
15
Integration to Find Arc Length . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15-2
Fourier Transforms
16
Fourier Transforms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16-2
xiv Contents
Creation Functions for CompositeGate Objects . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17-22
xv
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different content
CHAPTER X
WILLIAM WALLACE
THE next thing that Billy knew he was waking up, not wide awake,
but a little at a time.
The room seemed very white, and there was somebody in white
standing by his bed. No, it wasn’t Miss King, for this woman had
something white on her head.
Then he felt somebody holding his hand and saying, “Billy, little
Billy.”
He woke up a little further. He tried to say, “Aunt Mary,” but the
words wouldn’t come.
The woman in white took hold of Aunt Mary, and led her out of the
room.
Then he saw something large in the window. He wasn’t at all sure
that he wasn’t dreaming about mountains. But this mountain had a
round top and, while he watched it, it moved. Billy woke up enough
to see that it was somebody standing in the window.
Billy knew only one person who could fill up a window like that. He
tried his voice again. This time he made it go.
“That you, Mr. Prescott?” he said, his voice going up and up till it
ended in a funny little quaver.
Then the mountain came over to him. It was Mr. Prescott.
Billy, looking up, spoke again, very slowly:
“The dimes did roll into the river, Mr. Prescott.”
“Hang it!” said Mr. Prescott. “Of course they did!”
The nurse nodded. “He’s kept talking about that,” she said. “We
thought perhaps you’d know.”
Mr. Prescott started to go close to the bed.
The nurse put out her hand.
“Hang it!” said Mr. Prescott. “I was a brute. Can you ever forgive
me, Billy?”
“Sure, sir,” answered Billy.
His voice sounded so strong that the nurse told Mr. Prescott that
she was afraid he was exciting the patient.
Billy said, “Please stay.”
Then the nurse told Mr. Prescott that he might stay ten minutes if
he wouldn’t talk to the patient.
Billy tried to smile at Mr. Prescott, but he was so tired that he shut
his eyes instead.
Next time it was Uncle John who was holding his hand, but Uncle
John didn’t smile.
“Uncle John,” said Billy, “what’s the matter with me?”
“Just a few broken bones, Billy, my lad,” answered Uncle John.
“Which ones?” asked Billy.
“Just a left arm and a left leg.”
“That all?” asked Billy.
After that they wouldn’t let him see anybody. There were two
nurses instead of one, and three doctors—“specialists” Billy heard
his own nurse say.
After that there were two doctors every day: a doctor with white
hair, and a doctor with light brown hair, parted in the middle.
The doctor with the white hair seemed to think more about Billy
than he did about his bones, for he talked to Billy while he was
feeling around.
The young doctor seemed to think more about the bones. But Billy
liked him, too, for one day when they were hurting him terribly the
young doctor said:
“You’re a game sort of chap.”
Billy wasn’t quite sure what “game” meant, but he kept right on
gritting his teeth till they were through.
The first day that the young doctor began to come alone, he said:
“Nurse, how are the contusions getting along?”
“They are much lighter in color, doctor, this morning,” answered
the nurse.
“I don’t understand,” said the doctor, standing very straight and
putting his forefinger on his chin, “how a fall of the nature of this one,
practically on the left side, could have produced so many contusions
on the right.”
“What are contusions?” asked Billy.
The doctor began to talk about stasis of the circulation following
superficial injuries.
“Show me one,” said Billy.
When the nurse showed him one on his right arm, just below the
shoulder, Billy said:
“Oh, one of my black and blue spots! That must have been when I
was playing caged lion.”
That time the doctor and the nurse were the ones who didn’t
understand.
Then Billy laughed, a happy boyish laugh. He hadn’t laughed that
way since he and his father used to have frolics together.
The doctor looked at him a minute, then he said:
“Nurse, to-morrow this young chap may have company for half an
hour.”
“I’m glad to hear that, doctor,” said the nurse. “I’ll go right away to
tell Mr. Prescott. He’s fairly worn me out with telephoning to know
when we would let him come.”
At ten o’clock the next morning Mr. Prescott came.
After he had answered Billy’s questions about the fire, and had
told him that the new roof was almost finished, he took a newspaper
out of his pocket.
He folded it across, then down on both sides, and held it up in
front of Billy.
There it was, in big head-lines:
“Billy Bradford Saves Prescott Mill”
Then Mr. Prescott read him what the paper said. They had even
put in about finding him with the flowers in his buttonhole.
“Those,” interrupted Billy, “were Miss King’s flowers.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Prescott; “she cried, right in the office, when she
read that.”
Then Billy told Mr. Prescott about the closet, and all about the box,
and asked him to pull out the drawer in the little stand by his bed.
There lay his jack-knife. Somebody had shut up all that was left of
the blades, and there was so little left that they couldn’t be opened.
Mr. Prescott put the knife into Billy’s hand.
“That was a good knife,” said Billy, looking at it with affection.
“I think,” said Mr. Prescott, “that you really ought to let me have
that knife.”
Billy hesitated a moment, then he said:
“If you please, Mr. Prescott, I should like to keep that knife. It has
been a good friend to me.”
Mr. Prescott took the little white hand, knife and all, in his own
strong, firm fingers.
“I want it, Billy, because you have been a good friend to me.”
Billy’s face flushed so suddenly red that Mr. Prescott was afraid
that something was going to happen to Billy. He called, “Nurse!”
“I’m all right,” said Billy.
He grew red again as he said:
“Mr. Prescott, I want to tell you something.”
Mr. Prescott said: “Let me fix your pillows first.”
Of course he got them all mixed up, and the nurse had to come.
She looked at her watch, and then at Mr. Prescott, but she didn’t say
anything.
Then Mr. Prescott sat close by the bed with Billy’s hand lying in
his, and Billy told him about William Wallace.
Mr. Prescott looked a little surprised, then he said:
“William Wallace seems to know a good deal, doesn’t he?”
Billy, in honor, had to nod his head, but he grew very sober.
Perhaps, after all, Mr. Prescott would like William Wallace better than
he liked him.
“I don’t really approve,” said Mr. Prescott, “of his calling you a
coward, though that sometimes makes a boy try to be brave.
“One thing is sure, he can’t ever call you that again, can he?”
Billy shook his head.
“Personally,” continued Mr. Prescott, almost as if he were talking
business, “I had rather be saved by you than by William Wallace.
Can you guess why?”
Billy shook his head again, but this time he smiled.
“Because,” said Mr. Prescott, “you did it out of your heart. William
Wallace would have done it out of his head.”
Billy smiled serenely. Everything—broken jack-knife, broken arm,
broken leg—was exactly all right now.
“Really and truly,” Mr. Prescott went on, “there are two of
everybody, only most people don’t seem to know it: one is his heart,
and the other is his head.
“If I were you, I would be on good terms with William Wallace—it
generally takes both to decide. I’d take him as a sort of brother, but I
wouldn’t let him rule.”
“No,” said Billy.
Then Mr. Prescott saw the nurse coming, and he hurried off.
The next time that Uncle John came Billy asked him what had
become of the man—“the poor man,” Billy called him.
“That man,” said Uncle John, his mouth growing rather firm, “was
found out in his sin.
“He undertook a little too much when he set fire to one end of the
mill, and then tried to blow up the main office. That’s too much for
one man to do at one time, especially when he’s a man that leaves
things around.”
“Oh!” said Billy.
“Now,” said Uncle John, “he’s where he’s having his actions
regulated.”
“I hope,” said Billy, “that they’ll be good to him.”
“Billy,” said Uncle John, very decidedly, “all that you are called
upon to do about that man is to believe that he couldn’t think straight.
“But the way this world is made makes it necessary, when a man
can’t think straighter than to try to destroy the very mill where he’s
working, for some one else to do a part of his thinking for him.
“That’s what the men that make the laws are trying to do. They are
trying to help men to think straight.”
Billy was listening hard. It was a good while since he had heard
one of Uncle John’s lectures.
“You know, Billy, my lad, that there are a lot of things we have to
leave to God.”
“Yes, Uncle John.”
“There are a lot more that we have to leave to the law.
“The best thing for a boy like you and a man like me to do is to
leave things where they belong.”
“All right, Uncle John, I will,” said Billy, giving a little sigh of relief
as if he were glad to have that off his mind.
The next day when Mr. Prescott came, he told Billy that, the day
after that, he was to be moved to Mr. Prescott’s house on the hill.
Billy looked a little sober. He had been thinking a great deal about
home.
“I’m all alone in that big house,” said Mr. Prescott.
“Then,” said Billy, “I’ll come.”
CHAPTER XI
THE TREASURE ROOM
THEY took Billy to Mr. Prescott’s house in his machine. They had to
take a good many pillows and they planned to take an extra nurse,
but the young doctor said that he was going up that way, and could
just as well help.
Billy and the doctor were getting to be very good friends.
“He’s different,” Billy had confided to Uncle John, “but I like him a
lot.”
“Nice people often are different,” said Uncle John.
Billy was so much better that he had some fun, while they were
putting him into the auto, about his “stiff half,” as he called his left
side.
“You just wait till I get that arm and that leg to working,” he said.
“They’ll have to work over time.”
They put him in a large room with broad windows, where he could
look down on the river and across at the mountains. There was a
large brass bed in the room, but Mr. Prescott had had a hospital bed
sent up.
“You’d have hard work to find me in that bed,” said Billy to the
nurse, “wouldn’t you?”
It was a beautiful room. One of the maids told Billy that it had been
Mr. Prescott’s mother’s room, and that he had always kept it as she
had left it.
For the first week Billy feasted his eyes on color.
The walls of the room were soft brown; the paint was the color of
cream. There were two sets of curtains: one a soft old blue, and over
that another hanging of all sorts of colors. It took Billy a whole day to
pick out the pattern on those curtains.
There was a mahogany dressing table, and there was a wonderful
rug—soft shades of rose in the middle, and ever so many shades of
blue in the border.
There was a fireplace with a shining brass fender. And there were
—oh, so many things!
Then Billy spent almost another week on the pictures. But when
he wanted to rest his eyes he looked at his old friends, the
mountains, lying far across the river.
Mr. Prescott, too, liked the mountains. He came to sit by him in the
evening, and they had real friendly times together watching the
mountains fade away into the night, and seeing the electric lights
flash out, one after another, all along the river.
Finally the doctors took off the splints. They had a great time doing
it, testing his joints to see whether or not they would work.
Then Billy found that, as the young doctor said, there had been a
“tall lot of worrying done about those bones.”
This time the white-haired doctor paid more attention to his bones
than he did to Billy. He didn’t say anything till he went to put his
glasses back in the case. Then he straightened up, and said:
“I’m happy to tell you, young man, that those joints will work all
right after they get used to working again.”
The next day Billy went down the long flight of stairs, with Mr.
Prescott on one side, and the nurse on the other, to the great library,
right under the room where he had been.
“Feel pretty well, now that you’re down?” asked Mr. Prescott, after
the nurse had gone up-stairs.
“Sure, sir,” answered Billy.
“Then follow me,” said Mr. Prescott, opening a door at the end of
the library.
Billy followed, but he had hardly stepped in before he stepped
back.
“Why, Billy,” said Mr. Prescott, coming quickly back to him, “I didn’t
mean to frighten you. We’ll stay in the library.”
Now the doctor had told Mr. Prescott that Billy mustn’t be
frightened by anything if they could help it, for he’d been through
about all a boy’s nerves could stand. So Mr. Prescott drew Billy over
to the big sofa, fixed some pillows around him, and put a foot-rest
under his leg.
Then Mr. Prescott settled himself in a great chair as though he had
nothing in the world to do except to talk to Billy.
“That,” said Mr. Prescott, “is my treasure room. When I go in there,
I think of brave men, and of how they helped the world along. What
made you step back?”
“Because,” answered Billy, half ashamed, “I thought I saw a man
in the corner pointing something at me.”
“I ought,” said Mr. Prescott, “to have thought of that before I took
you into the room.
“I’ve been trying, for some time, to make that old suit of armor and
that spear look like a knight standing there, ready for action. I must
have, at last, succeeded, but I’m sorry that it startled you.
“You see I’m naturally interested in weapons of war because they
are all made of steel or iron.”
“Battle-ships, too,” said Billy.
“Yes,” said Mr. Prescott. “But you mustn’t forget the great naval
battles that were won with ships of wood.
“There’s one thing in that room,” Mr. Prescott went on, “that I am
sure you will like to see. It is my great-great-grandfather’s musket.”
“Oh,” said Billy, “I didn’t know that you had a great-great-
grandfather.”
“I did,” said Mr. Prescott, just as quietly as if Billy had been talking
sense. “He was a brave man, too. That is the musket that he had
when he was with General Washington at Valley Forge.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Billy again.
“Know about Valley Forge, do you?”
“A little,” answered Billy, very humbly.
“That’s enough to start on,” said Mr. Prescott.
Billy could almost imagine that Uncle John was talking. Billy spent
a great deal more time every day than anybody realized in thinking
about his Uncle John.
“Perhaps you don’t know, many people don’t,” said Mr. Prescott,
“that the first name of that place was Valley Creek. It was changed to
Valley Forge because a large forge plant was established there. It
was one of the first places in this state where they made iron and
steel.
“By the way, George Washington’s father was a maker of pig iron
down in Virginia.”
“Oh!” said Billy. “There seem to be a lot of things to know about
iron.”
“There’s really no end to them,” said Mr. Prescott. “They begin way
back in history. Did you ever read about Goliath the giant?”
“My father used to read those stories to me,” answered Billy, “out
of a great big Bible.”
“Was it like this one?” asked Mr. Prescott, getting up quickly and
bringing him, from the library table, a great Bible, covered with light
brown leather.
“That looks almost like ours,” answered Billy.
“This,” said Mr. Prescott, “is the one my mother used to read to
me. There’s a great deal about iron in it,” he added, as he put it away
carefully.
“To come back to Goliath,” said Mr. Prescott. “His spear had a
head of iron that weighed six hundred shekels.
“Then there was that iron bedstead of Og, king of Bashan. Ever
hear of him?”
“I don’t seem,” answered Billy, “to remember about him.”
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have remembered,” said Mr. Prescott, “if I
hadn’t been so interested in iron.”
“That,” said Billy, “was probably on account of your grandfather,
and your father,” he added quickly.
“There’s a great deal about iron in the Bible,” said Mr. Prescott.
“Only four or five pages over in Genesis there is a verse about a
man named Tubal-Cain, who was a master-worker in brass and iron.
“Then there are some things in mythology that you ought to know,
now that you’re interested in iron. One of them is that the old
Romans, who imagined all sorts of gods, said that iron was
discovered by Vulcan. They said, too, that he forged the thunderbolts
of Jupiter.
“Now, then, Billy, how about my treasure room?”
“Ready, sir,” answered Billy, working himself out from among his
pillows.
“Once,” said Mr. Prescott, walking close by Billy, “I went into a
room something like this, only it had many more things in it. The
room was in Sir Walter Scott’s house. He had one of Napoleon’s
pistols from Waterloo.
“He called his room an armory. I generally call mine my ‘treasure
room.’”
“I think I like armory better,” said Billy.
“Then,” said Mr. Prescott, “will you walk into my armory?”
“First of all,” said Billy, “I want to see that gun—musket.”
“Here it is,” said Mr. Prescott. “There,” he added, pointing to a
picture in an oval brass frame, “is my great-great-grandfather.”
“Oh!” said Billy.
Then Mr. Prescott knew that Billy had never before seen a
silhouette.
“That kind of picture,” he said, “does make a man look as black as
his own hat, though it is often a good profile. I used to make them
myself. Some night I’ll make one of you.
“Now that you’ve seen the musket, I think that you had better take
a look at this suit of armor that I have been trying to make stand up
here like a knight.
“This coat of mail is made of links, you see. Sometimes they were
made of scales of iron linked together.
“The work that those old smiths did is really wonderful, especially
when you remember that their only tools were hammer, pincers,
chisel, and tongs. It took both time and patience to weld every one of
those links together.”
“I don’t think I understand what weld means,” said Billy.
“When iron is heated to a white heat,” said Mr. Prescott, “it can be
hammered together into one piece. Most metals have to be soldered,
you know. The blacksmiths generally use a powder that will make
the iron weld more easily, because it makes the iron soften more
quickly, but iron is its own solder.
“You’d better sit down here while I explain a little about this suit of
armor; then you’ll know what you’re reading about when you come to
a knight.
“I suppose that every boy knows what a helmet and a vizor are;
they learn about that from seeing firemen.”
“And policemen,” said Billy.
“Only the helmets of the knights covered their faces and ended in
guards for their necks. I dare say that you don’t know what a gorget
is.”
“No,” said Billy, “I don’t.”
“That is the piece of armor that protected the throat. Here is the
cuirass or breast-plate, and the tassets that covered the thighs.
They’re hooked to the cuirass. And here are the greaves for the
shins. There are names for all the arm pieces, too, but we’ll let those
go just now.
“This shield, you see, is wood covered with iron, and part of the
handle inside is wood. A man must have weighed a great deal when
he had a full suit of armor on, and he must have been splendid to
look at and rather hard to kill.
“Those old smiths certainly made a fine art of their work in iron.
They got plenty of credit for it, too. In the Anglo-Saxon times they
were really treated as officers of rank.
“When a man was depending on his sword to protect his family, he
naturally respected a man who could make good swords. The smiths
sort of held society together.”
Billy, looking around the room, saw that one side had spears and
shields and helmets hung all over it; and on the wall at the end were
pistols, bows and arrows, and some dreadful knives.
“Did all those,” he asked, pointing at the end of the room, “kill
somebody?”
“Ask it the other way,” said Mr. Prescott; “did they all protect
somebody? Then I can safely say that they did, for any foe would
think twice before he attacked a man in mail. These things were all
made because they were needed.”
“What do you suppose put the armorers out of business?”
“I don’t know,” answered Billy.
“Gunpowder,” said Mr. Prescott. “A man could be blown up, armor
and all.”
“Then they had to make guns,” said Billy.
“And they’ve been at that ever since,” said Mr. Prescott.
“Come over to this cabinet, and I’ll show you my special treasure.
“Shut your eyes, Billy, and think of walls in a desert long enough
and high enough to shut in a whole city.”
Billy shut his eyes. “I see the walls,” he said.
“Now, just inside the wall, think a garden with great beds of roses.”
“Blush roses?” queried Billy.
“Damask,” replied Mr. Prescott; “pink, pretty good size.”
“That’s done!” said Billy.
“Now, in that garden, think an Arab chief, a sheik, mounted on a
beautiful Arabian horse, and—open your eyes!”
“Here is his sword!”
“I saw him clearly!” exclaimed Billy, his eyes flying wide open.
“HERE IS HIS SWORD”