TIMESTAMP
stringlengths 27
27
| ContextTokens
int64 2
14.1k
| GeneratedTokens
int64 7
1k
| text
stringlengths 4
63.2k
| time_delta
float64 0
3.5k
| idx
int64 0
19.4k
|
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
2023-11-16 18:20:38.0756240 | 373 | 56 |
Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Verity White and
the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net
[Illustration]
TREAT 'EM ROUGH
LETTERS FROM
JACK THE KAISER KILLER
_By_
RING W. LARDNER
AUTHOR OF
My Four Weeks in France, Gullible's Travels, Etc.
ILLUSTRATED BY
FRANK CRERIE
INDIANAPOLIS THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY PUBLISHERS
COPYRIGHT 1913
THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY
PRESS OF BRAUNWORTH & CO. BOOK MANUFACTURERS BROOKLYN, N.Y.
[Illustration]
JACK THE KAISER KILLER
CAMP GRANT, Sept. 23.
_FRIEND AL:_ Well Al I am writeing this in the recreation room at our
barracks and they's about 20 other of the boys writeing letters and I
will bet some of the letters is rich because half of the boys can't talk
english to say nothing about writeing letters and etc. We got a fine
bunch in my Co. Al and its a cinch I won't never die in the trenchs
because I will be murdered in my bed before we ever get out of here only
they don't call it bed in the army.
They call it bunk and no wonder.
Well Al I have been here since Wed. night and now it is Sunday and this
is the first time I have not felt sick since we got here and even at
that my left arm is so sore it is pretty near killing me where I got
vacinated. Its a good thing I am not a left | 291.395034 | 1,400 |
2023-11-16 18:20:38.2529530 | 1,015 | 414 |
Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
THE LIFEBOAT, BY R.M. BALLANTYNE.
CHAPTER ONE.
THE BEGINNING--IN WHICH SEVERAL IMPORTANT PERSONAGES ARE INTRODUCED.
There existed, not many years ago, a certain street near the banks of
old Father Thames which may be described as being one of the most modest
and retiring little streets in London.
The neighbourhood around that street was emphatically dirty and noisy.
There were powerful smells of tallow and tar in the atmosphere,
suggestive of shipping and commerce. Narrow lanes opened off the main
street affording access to wharves and warehouses, and presenting at
their termini segmentary views of ships' hulls, bowsprits, and booms,
with a background of muddy water and smoke. There were courts with
unglazed windows resembling doors, and massive cranes clinging to the
walls. There were yards full of cases and barrels, and great anchors
and chains, which invaded the mud of the river as far as was consistent
with safety; and adventurous little warehouses, which stood on piles, up
to the knees, as it were, in water, totally regardless of appearances,
and utterly indifferent as to catching cold. As regards the population
of this locality, rats were, perhaps, in excess of human beings; and it
might have been observed that the former were particularly frolicsome
and fearless.
Farther back, on the landward side of our unobtrusive street, commercial
and nautical elements were more mingled with things appertaining to
domestic life. Elephantine horses, addicted to good living, drew
through the narrow streets wagons and vans so ponderous and gigantic
that they seemed to crush the very stones over which they rolled, and
ran terrible risk of sweeping little children out of the upper windows
of the houses. In unfavourable contrast with these, donkeys, of the
most meagre and starved aspect, staggered along with cartloads of fusty
vegetables and dirty-looking fish, while the vendors thereof howled the
nature and value of their wares with deliberate ferocity. Low
pawnbrokers (chiefly in the "slop" line) obtruded their seedy wares from
doors and windows halfway across the pavement, as if to tempt the naked;
and equally low pastry-cooks spread forth their stale viands in unglazed
windows, as if to seduce the hungry.
Here the population was mixed and varied. Busy men of business and of
wealth, porters and wagoners, clerks and warehousemen, rubbed shoulders
with poor squalid creatures, men and women, whose business or calling no
one knew and few cared to know except the policeman on the beat, who,
with stern suspicious glances, looked upon them as objects of special
regard, and as enemies; except, also, the earnest-faced man in seedy
black garments, with a large Bible (_evidently_) in his pocket, who
likewise looked on them as objects of special regard, and as friends.
The rats were much more circumspect in this locality. They were what
the Yankees would call uncommonly "cute," and much too deeply intent on
business to indulge in play.
In the lanes, courts, and alleys that ran still farther back into the
great hive, there was an amount of squalor, destitution, violence, sin,
and misery, the depth of which was known only to the people who dwelt
there, and to those earnest-faced men with Bibles who made it their work
to cultivate green spots in the midst of such unpromising wastes, and to
foster the growth of those tender and beautiful flowers which sometimes
spring and flourish where, to judge from appearances, one might be
tempted to imagine nothing good could thrive. Here also there were
rats, and cats too, besides dogs of many kinds; but they all of them led
hard lives of it, and few appeared to think much of enjoying themselves.
Existence seemed to be the height of their ambition. Even the kittens
were depressed, and sometimes stopped in the midst of a faint attempt at
play to look round with a scared aspect, as if the memory of kicks and
blows was strong upon them.
The whole neighbourhood, in fact, teemed with sad yet interesting sights
and scenes, and with strange violent contrasts. It was not a spot which
one would naturally select for a ramble on a summer evening after
dinner; nevertheless it was a locality where time might have been
profitably spent, where a good lesson or two might have been learned by
those who have a tendency to "consider the poor."
But although the neighbourhood was dirty and noisy, | 291.572363 | 1,401 |
2023-11-16 18:20:38.4700320 | 1,082 | 385 | ***Project Gutenberg Etext: The Circus Boys Across The Continent**
Or Making the Start in the Sawdust Life, by Edgar B. P. Darlington
Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check
the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!!
Please take a look at the important information in this header.
We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an
electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this.
**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations*
Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and
further information is included below. We need your donations.
The Circus Boys Across The Continent
Or
Winning New Laurels on the Tanbark
by Edgar B. P. Darlington
January, 2001 [Etext #2475]
***Project Gutenberg Etext: The Circus Boys Across The Continent***
*Or Winning New Laurels on the Tanbark, by Edgar B. P. Darlington*
*******This file should be named 2475.txt or 2475.zip*******
This Etext was prepared for Project Gutenberg by Greg Berckes
Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions,
all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a
copyright notice is included. Therefore, we usually do NOT keep any
of these books in compliance with any particular paper edition.
We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance
of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till
midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at
Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A
preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an
up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes
in the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has
a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a
look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a
new copy has at least one byte more or less.
Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The
time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This
projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value
per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-six text
files per month, or 432 more Etexts in 1999 for a total of 2000+
If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the
total should reach over 200 billion Etexts given away this year.
The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext
Files by December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000 = 1 Trillion]
This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
which is only ~5% of the present number of computer users.
At our revised rates of production, we will reach only one-third
of that goal by the end of 2001, or about 3,333 Etexts unless we
manage to get some real funding; currently our funding is mostly
from Michael Hart's salary at Carnegie-Mellon University, and an
assortment of sporadic gifts; this salary is only good for a few
more years, so we are looking for something to replace it, as we
don't want Project Gutenberg to be so dependent on one person.
We need your donations more than ever!
All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and are
tax deductible to the extent allowable by law. (CMU = Carnegie-
Mellon University).
For these and other matters, please mail to:
Project Gutenberg
P. O. Box 2782
Champaign, IL 61825
When all other email fails...try our Executive Director:
Michael S. Hart <[email protected]>
[email protected] forwards to [email protected] and archive.org
if your mail bounces from archive.org, I will still see it, if
it bounces from prairienet.org, better resend later on....
We would prefer to send you this information by email.
******
To access Project Gutenberg etexts, use any Web browser
to view http://promo.net/pg. This site lists Etexts by
author and by title, and includes information about how
to get involved with Project Gutenberg. You could also | 291.789442 | 1,402 |
2023-11-16 18:20:38.5737790 | 1,140 | 401 |
Produced by K Nordquist, Sigal Alon, Leonard Johnson and
the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net
[Illustration: Book Cover]
OLD FORT SNELLING
From a painting by Captain Seth Eastman, reproduced in Mrs. Eastman's
_Dahcotah; or, Life and Legends of the Sioux around Fort Snelling_
[Illustration: OLD FORT SNELLING]
OLD FORT SNELLING
1819-1858
BY
MARCUS L. HANSEN
[Illustration: Publisher's Logo.]
PUBLISHED AT IOWA CITY IOWA IN 1918 BY
THE STATE HISTORICAL SOCIETY OF IOWA
THE TORCH PRESS
CEDAR RAPIDS
IOWA
EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION
The establishment in 1917 of a camp at Fort Snelling for the training of
officers for the army has aroused curiosity in the history of Old Fort
Snelling. Again as in the days of the pioneer settlement of the
Northwest the Fort at the junction of the Minnesota and Mississippi
rivers has become an object of more than ordinary interest.
Old Fort Snelling was established in 1819 within the Missouri Territory
on ground which later became a part of the Territory of Iowa. Not until
1849 was it included within Minnesota boundaries. Linked with the early
annals of Missouri, Michigan, Wisconsin, Iowa, Minnesota, and the
Northwest, the history of Old Fort Snelling is the common heritage of
many commonwealths in the Upper Mississippi Valley.
The period covered in this volume begins with the establishment of the
Fort in 1819 and ends with the temporary abandonment of the site as a
military post in 1858.
BENJ. F. SHAMBAUGH
OFFICE OF THE SUPERINTENDENT AND EDITOR
THE STATE HISTORICAL SOCIETY OF IOWA
IOWA CITY IOWA
AUTHOR'S PREFACE
The position which the military post holds in western history is
sometimes misunderstood. So often has a consideration of it been left to
the novelist's pen that romantic glamour has obscured the permanent
contribution made by many a lonely post to the development of the
surrounding region. The western fort was more than a block-house or a
picket. Being the home of a handful of soldiers did not give it its real
importance: it was an institution and should be studied as such. Old
Fort Snelling is a type of the many remote military stations which were
scattered throughout the West upon the upper waters of the rivers or at
intermediate places on the interminable stretches of the westward
trails.
This study of the history and influence of Old Fort Snelling was first
undertaken at the suggestion of Dr. Louis Pelzer of the State University
of Iowa, and was carried on under his supervision. The results of the
investigation were accepted as a thesis in the Graduate College of the
State University of Iowa in June, 1917. Upon the suggestion of Dr. Benj.
F. Shambaugh, Superintendent of The State Historical Society of Iowa,
the plan of the work was changed, its scope enlarged, many new sources
of information were consulted, and the entire manuscript
rewritten.
Connected with so many of the aspects of western history, Old Fort
Snelling is pictured in accounts both numerous and varied. The reports
of government officials, the relations of travellers and explorers, and
the reminiscences of fur traders, pioneer settlers, and missionaries
show the Fort as each author, looking at it from the angle of his
particular interest, saw it. These published accounts are found in the
_Annual Reports_ of the Secretary of War, in the _Annual Reports_ of the
Commissioner of Indian Affairs, and in the works of travellers and
pioneers. Many of the most important sources are the briefer accounts
printed in the _Minnesota Historical Collections_. The author's
dependence upon these sources of information is evident upon every page
of this volume.
But not alone from these sources, which are readily accessible, is this
account of the Old Fort drawn. A half-burned diary, the account books of
the post sutler, letter books filled with correspondence dealing with
matters which are often trivial, and statistical returns of men and
equipment are sources which from their nature may never be printed. But
in them reposes much of the material upon which this book is based. The
examination of all the documents which offered any prospect of throwing
light upon the subject was made possible for the author as Research
Assistant in The State Historical Society of Iowa. And in this
connection I wish to express my appreciation for the many courtesies
which I have received from those in whose custody these sources are
kept. To Dr. Solon J. Buck, Superintendent of the Minnesota Historical
Society and the members of the library staff of that Society I am
indebted for many kindnesses. Dr. M. M. Quaife, Superintendent of the
State Historical Society of Wisconsin, placed at my disposal thousands
of sheets of transcripts made from the records of the Indian Department
at Washington and kept in the library of the Historical Society at
Madison. At the Historical Department of Iowa at Des Moines, and in the
library of the | 291.893189 | 1,403 |
2023-11-16 18:20:38.8660090 | 1,015 | 572 |
Produced by Emmy, Charlene Taylor and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
[Illustration: A STREET SHOWMAN.]
PEEPS INTO CHINA; OR, The Missionary's Children.
BY E. C. PHILLIPS,
AUTHOR OF "TROPICAL READING-BOOKS," "THE ORPHANS," "BUNCHY,"
"HILDA AND HER DOLL," ETC.
[Illustration]
CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED:
_LONDON, PARIS, NEW YORK & MELBOURNE._
[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.]
To
MY DEAR PARENTS,
IN
LOVING MEMORY.
"Can I forget thy cares, from helpless years
Thy tenderness for me?"
[Illustration: Contents.]
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE COUNTRY RECTORY 9
II. THE FIRST PEEP 21
III. THE RELIGIONS OF CHINA 44
IV. CHINESE CHILDHOOD 69
V. THE MERCHANT SHOWMAN 89
VI. LITTLE CHU AND WOO-URH 100
VII. LEONARD'S EXPLOIT IN FORMOSA 114
VIII. THE BOAT POPULATION 134
IX. AT CANTON 153
X. A BRIDE AND BRIDEGROOM 179
XI. PROCESSIONS 197
XII. THE LAST PEEP 208
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER I.
THE COUNTRY RECTORY.
[Illustration]
"NOT really; you can't mean it really!"
"As true as possible. Mother told me her _very own_ self," was the
emphatic reply.
Two children, brother and sister, the boy aged ten, the girl three years
older, were carrying on this conversation in the garden of a country
rectory.
"But really and truly, on your word of honour," repeated Leonard, as
though he could not believe what his sister had just related to him.
"I hope my word is always a word of honour; I thought everybody's word
ought to be that," Sybil Graham replied a little proudly, for when she
had run quickly to bring such important news to her brother, she could
not help feeling hurt that he should refuse to believe what she said.
"And we are really going there, and shall actually see the 'pig-tails'
in their own country, and the splendid kites they fly, and all the
wonderful things that father used to tell us about? Oh! it seems too
good to be true."
"But it is true," Sybil repeated with emphasis. "And I dare say we might
even see tea growing, as it does grow there, you know, and I suppose we
shall be carried about in sedan-chairs ourselves." She was really as
happy as her brother, only not so excitable.
At this moment their mother joined them. "Oh, mother!" the boy then
exclaimed, "how beautiful! Sybil has just told me, but I could not
believe her."
"I thought the news would delight you both very much," Mrs. Graham
answered. "Your father and I have been thinking about going to China for
some time, but we would not tell you anything about it until matters
were quite settled, and now everything seems to be satisfactorily
arranged for us to start in three months' time."
"That will be in August, then," they both said at once.
"Oh, how very beautiful!" Sybil exclaimed. "_I like my father to be a
missionary very much._ He must be glad too; isn't he, mother?"
"Very glad indeed, although the joy will entail some sadness also. I
expect your father will grieve a good deal to leave this dear little
country parish of ours, and the duties he has so loved to perform here,
but a wider field of usefulness having opened out for him, he is very
thankful to obey the call."
[Illustration: THE CHURCH.]
"And father will do it so well, mother," answered Sybil. "I wonder
whether I shall be able to do anything to help him there?"
"I think you have long since found out, Sybil," was her mother's loving
answer, "that you can always be doing something to help us."
Sybil and Leonard had as yet only learnt a part of the story. They had
still to learn the rest. This going to China would not be all beautiful,
all joy for them, especially for | 292.185419 | 1,404 |
2023-11-16 18:20:38.8874490 | 991 | 414 |
Produced by Al Haines
[Illustration: Cover art]
A Bunch of Cherries
A STORY OF CHERRY COURT SCHOOL
BY
Mrs. L. T. MEADE
AUTHOR OF
"A Modern Tomboy," "The School Favorite," "Children's Pilgrimage,"
"Little Mother to the Others," Etc.
CHICAGO:
M. A. DONOHUE & CO.
1898
CONTENTS
CHAPTER.
I. The School
II. The Girls
III. The Telegram
IV. Sir John's Great Scheme
V. Florence
VI. Kitty and Her Father
VII. Cherry-Colored Ribbons
VIII. The Letter
IX. The Little Mummy
X. Aunt Susan
XI. "I Always Admired Frankness"
XII. The Fairy Box
XIII. An Invitation
XIV. At the Park
XV. The Pupil Teacher
XVI. Temptation
XVII. The Fall
XVIII. The Guests Arrive
XIX. Tit for Tat
XX. The Hills for Ever
XXI. The Sting of the Serpent
XXII. The Voice of God
A BUNCH OF CHERRIES.
CHAPTER I.
THE SCHOOL.
The house was long and low and rambling. In parts at least it must
have been quite a hundred years old, and even the modern portion was
not built according to the ideas of the present day, for in 1870 people
were not so aesthetic as they are now, and the lines of beauty and
grace were not considered all essential to happiness.
So even the new part of the house had square rooms destitute of
ornament, and the papers were small in pattern and without any artistic
designs, and the windows were square and straight, and the ceilings
were somewhat low.
The house opened on to a wide lawn, and at the left of the lawn was a
paddock and at the right a shrubbery, and the shrubbery led away under
its overhanging trees into the most perfect walled-in garden that was
ever seen. The garden was two or three hundred years old. The oldest
inhabitants of the place had never known the time when Cherry Court
garden was not the talk of the country. Visitors came from all parts
round to see it. It was celebrated on account of its very high walls
built of red brick, its size, for it covered at least three acres of
ground, and its magnificent cherries. The cherry trees in the Court
garden bore the most splendid fruit which could be obtained in any part
of the county. They were in great demand, not only for the girls who
lived in the old house and played in the garden, but for the neighbors
all over the country. A big price was always paid for these cherries,
for they made such splendid jam, as well as being so full of juice and
so ripe and good to eat that their like could not be found anywhere
else.
The cherries were of all sorts and kinds, from the celebrated White
Heart to the black cherry. There were cherries for cooking and
cherries for eating, and in the season the trees, which were laden with
ripe fruit, were a sight to behold.
In the height of the cherry season Mrs. Clavering always gave a cherry
feast. It was the event of the entire year, and the girls looked
forward to it, making all their arrangements in connection with it,
counting the hours until it arrived, and looking upon it as the great
feature of their school year. Everything turned on whether the
cherries were good and the weather fine. There was no greater stimulus
to hard work than the merest mention of this golden day, which came as
a rule towards the end of June and just before the summer vacation.
For Cherry Court School was old-fashioned according to our modern
ideas, and one of its old-fashioned plans was to give holidays at the
end of June instead of the end of July, so that the girls had the
longest, finest days at home, and came back to work at the end of
August refreshed and strengthened, and prepared for a good long tug at
lessons of all sorts until Christmas.
The school consisted of twenty girls, never more and never less, for
Mrs. Clavering was too great a favorite and had too wise and excellent
ideas with regard to education ever to be without pupils, and | 292.206859 | 1,405 |
2023-11-16 18:20:39.4153060 | 1,227 | 420 |
Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the PG Online Distributed
Proofreading Team.(www.pgdp.net)
A
REVERSIBLE
SANTA CLAUS
BY
MEREDITH NICHOLSON
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
FLORENCE H. MINARD
BOSTON and NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
The Riverside Press, Cambridge
1917
COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY MEREDITH NICHOLSON
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
_Published October 1917_
By Meredeth Nicholson
A REVERSIBLE SANTA CLAUS. Illustrated.
THE PROOF OF THE PUDDING. Illustrated.
THE POET. Illustrated.
OTHERWISE PHYLLIS. With frontispiece in color.
THE PROVINCIAL AMERICAN AND OTHER PAPERS.
A HOOSIER CHRONICLE. With illustrations.
THE SIEGE OF THE SEVEN SUITORS. With illustrations.
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
A Reversible Santa Claus
[Illustration: "DO YOU MIND TELLING ME JUST WHY YOU READ THAT NOTE?"
_(Page 78)_]
Illustrations
"DO YOU MIND TELLING ME JUST WHY YOU READ THAT NOTE?" _Frontispiece_
THE HOPPER GRINNED, PROUD OF HIS SUCCESS,
WHICH MARY AND HUMPY VIEWED WITH GRUDGING ADMIRATION 44
THE FAINT CLICK OF A LATCH MARKED THE PROWLER'S PROXIMITY TO A HEDGE 116
THE THREE MEN GATHERED ROUND THEM, STARING DULLY 150
_From Drawings by F. Minard_
* * * * *
[Illustration]
A Reversible Santa Claus
I
Mr. William B. Aikins, _alias_ "Softy" Hubbard, _alias_ Billy The Hopper,
paused for breath behind a hedge that bordered a quiet lane and peered out
into the highway at a roadster whose tail light advertised its presence to
his felonious gaze. It was Christmas Eve, and after a day of unseasonable
warmth a slow, drizzling rain was whimsically changing to snow.
The Hopper was blowing from two hours' hard travel over rough country. He
had stumbled through woodlands, flattened himself in fence corners to
avoid the eyes of curious motorists speeding homeward or flying about
distributing Christmas gifts, and he was now bent upon committing himself
to an inter-urban trolley line that would afford comfortable
transportation for the remainder of his journey. Twenty miles, he
estimated, still lay between him and his domicile.
The rain had penetrated his clothing and vigorous exercise had not greatly
diminished the chill in his blood. His heart knocked violently against his
ribs and he was dismayed by his shortness of wind. The Hopper was not so
young as in the days when his agility and genius for effecting a quick
"get-away" had earned for him his sobriquet. The last time his Bertillon
measurements were checked (he was subjected to this humiliating
experience in Omaha during the Ak-Sar-Ben carnival three years earlier)
official note was taken of the fact that The Hopper's hair, long carried
in the records as black, was rapidly whitening.
At forty-eight a crook--even so resourceful and versatile a member of the
fraternity as The Hopper--begins to mistrust himself. For the greater part
of his life, when not in durance vile, The Hopper had been in hiding, and
the state or condition of being a fugitive, hunted by keen-eyed agents of
justice, is not, from all accounts, an enviable one. His latest experience
of involuntary servitude had been under the auspices of the State of
Oregon, for a trifling indiscretion in the way of safe-blowing. Having
served his sentence, he skillfully effaced himself by a year's siesta on
a pine-apple plantation in Hawaii. The island climate was not wholly
pleasing to The Hopper, and when pine-apples palled he took passage from
Honolulu as a stoker, reached San Francisco (not greatly chastened in
spirit), and by a series of characteristic hops, skips, and jumps across
the continent landed in Maine by way of the Canadian provinces. The Hopper
needed money. He was not without a certain crude philosophy, and it had
been his dream to acquire by some brilliant _coup_ a sufficient fortune
upon which to retire and live as a decent, law-abiding citizen for the
remainder of his days. This ambition, or at least the means to its
fulfillment, can hardly be defended as praiseworthy, but The Hopper was a
singular character and we must take him as we find him. Many prison
chaplains and jail visitors bearing tracts had striven with little
success to implant moral ideals in the mind and soul of The Hopper, but he
was still to be catalogued among the impenitent; and as he moved southward
through the Commonwealth of Maine he was so oppressed by his poverty, as
contrasted with the world's abundance, that he lifted forty thousand
dollars in a neat bundle from an express car which Providence had
sidetracked, apparently for his personal enrichment, on the upper waters
of the Penobscot. Whereupon he began perforce playing his old game of
artful dodging, exercising his best powers as a hopper and skipper. Forty
thousand dollars is no inconsiderable sum of money, and the success of
this master stroke of his career was not to be jeopard | 292.734716 | 1,406 |
2023-11-16 18:20:39.6844110 | 1,024 | 429 |
Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Bryan Ness, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
Transcriber's Note
Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations
in hyphenation have been standardised but all other spelling and
punctuation remains unchanged.
WORKS
_Preparing for Publication._
LAYS AND LEGENDS OF FANCY AND FABLE.
A Collection of Oriental Tales,
ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE IMAGINATIVE CHARACTER OF DIFFERENT
AGES AND NATIONS:
Designed to elucidate the philosophy of fiction as well as to
afford specimens of those marvels which have entered into popular
belief, and taken a permanent place in literature. The classical
inventions of the Greeks, the romantic fables of the middle ages,
the gorgeous and sometimes gloomy conceptions of the orientals, and
our own pleasing superstitions of fairy lore, will be exemplified
by specimens, and the influence of fancy on belief will be
illustrated by a variety of legends most of which have not hitherto
been brought before the English public. By W. C. TAYLOR, L.L.D.
Adorned with Twenty beautiful line Engravings on Steel, from
pictures by British Artists, and several Woodcuts, elegantly
printed in demy 4to, and richly bound in gilt, _Price_ 21_s._
THE BOOK OF ART; Or, Cartoons, Frescoes, Sculpture, and Decorative
Art, as applied to the New Houses of Parliament, as also to
building in general: with an Appendix, containing an Historical
Notice of the Exhibitions in Westminster Hall.
The Volume, which will contain at least One Hundred Engravings,
is printing in the best manner, in royal 4to. _Price_ 15_s._
handsomely bound.
_On the 1st of November, Part 1., Price Half-a-crown, to be continued
Monthly, and completed in Ten Parts_,
WANDERINGS OF A PEN AND PENCIL; Being the results of an antiquarian
and picturesque tour through the Midland Counties of England, by F.
P. PALMER & ALFRED CROWQUILL. The illustrations will be drawn on
wood by the latter, and engraved by our best wood-cutters.
The Book will present something of interest for those readers who
cherish the affection for antiquity, or an appreciation of manners,
customs, and legends which abound in the nooks of "Merry England."
_At Christmas_,
THE
HONEY STEW OF THE COUNTESS BERTHA.
A Fairy Tale.
TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF ALEXANDER DUMAS BY
MARIANNE TAYLOR.
With Engravings.
_Square Royal._
RAMBLES IN NORMANDY.
BY JAMES HAIRBY, M.D.
Normandy, the cradle of our monarchy and aristocracy, the last
resting-place of our early kings, and the scene of our first great
struggles against France, must ever have strong interest for
Englishmen. We find our national associations connected with its
most striking localities; and many of our leading families must
refer to the archives of this province for the antiquities of their
race. It is also as rich in natural scenery as it is in historical
associations; its peasants surpass those of the rest of France in
industry, intelligence, and comforts; while the numerous English
families who annually visit its sea-coast for the purpose of
bathing have brought it almost as close to England in alliance as
it was anciently in connection.
This Volume will record the impressions of a two years' residence,
and sundry journeyings in the province, furnishing a useful guide
to visitors, and information for tarry-at-home travellers. The
Illustrations will consist of a variety of subjects, Costume,
Landscape, and Architecture.
WISE SAWS
AND
MODERN INSTANCES.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
Printed by A. SPOTTISWOODE,
New-Street-Square.
WISE SAWS
AND
MODERN INSTANCES.
BY
THOMAS COOPER,
THE CHARTIST,
AUTHOR OF
"THE PURGATORY OF SUICIDES."
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR JEREMIAH HOW | 293.003821 | 1,407 |
2023-11-16 18:20:39.7855750 | 1,149 | 423 |
Produced by Michael Roe and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
THE LOVE LETTERS OF ABELARD AND HELOISE
[Illustration]
THE LOVE LETTERS OF ABELARD AND HELOISE
_Translated from the original latin and now reprinted from the
edition of 1722: together with a brief account of their lives and
work_
RALPH FLETCHER SEYMOURA.CHICAGO
Copyright 1903
by
Ralph Fletcher Seymour
THE STORY OF ABELARD AND HELOISE.
It sometimes happens that Love is little esteemed by those who choose
rather to think of other affairs, and in requital He strongly
manifests His power in unthought ways. Need is to think of Abelard
and Heloise: how now his treatises and works are memories only, and
how the love of her (who in lifetime received little comfort
therefor) has been crowned with the violet crown of Grecian Sappho
and the homage of all lovers.
The world itself was learning a new love when these two met; was
beginning to heed the quiet call of the spirit of the Renaissance,
which, at its consummation, brought forth the glories of the
Quattrocento.
It was among the stone-walled, rose-covered gardens and clustered
homes of ecclesiastics, who served the ancient Roman builded pile of
Notre Dame, that Abelard found Heloise.
From his noble father's home in Brittany, Abelard, gifted and
ambitious, came to study with William of Champeaux in Paris. His
advancement was rapid, and time brought him the acknowledged
leadership of the Philosophic School of the city, a prestige which
received added lustre from his controversies with his later
instructor in theology, Anselm of Laon.
His career at this time was brilliant. Adulation and flattery, added
to the respect given his great and genuine ability, made sweet a life
which we can imagine was in most respects to his liking. Among the
students who flocked to him came the beautiful maiden, Heloise, to
learn of philosophy. Her uncle Fulbert, living in retired ease near
Notre Dame, offered in exchange for such instruction both bed and
board; and Abelard, having already seen and resolved to win her,
undertook the contract.
Many quiet hours these two spent on the green, river-watered isle,
studying old philosophies, and Time, swift and silent as the Seine,
sped on, until when days had changed to months they became aware of
the deeper knowledge of Love. Heloise responded wholly to this new
influence, and Abelard, forgetting his ambition, desired their
marriage. Yet as this would have injured his opportunities for
advancement in the Church Heloise steadfastly refused this formal
sanction of her passion. Their love becoming known in time to
Fulbert, his grief and anger were uncontrollable. In fear the two
fled to the country and there their child was born. Abelard still
urged marriage, and at last, outwearied with importunities, she
consented, only insisting that it be kept a secret. Such a course was
considered best to pacify her uncle, who, in fact, promised
reconciliation as a reward. Yet, upon its accomplishment he openly
declared the marriage. Unwilling that this be known lest the
knowledge hurt her lover, Heloise strenuously denied the truth. The
two had returned, confident of Fulbert's reaffirmed regard, and he,
now deeply troubled and revengeful, determined to inflict that
punishment and indignity on Abelard, which, in its accomplishment,
shocked even that ruder civilization to horror and to reprisal.
The shamed and mortified victim, caring only for solitude in which to
hide and rest, retired into the wilderness; returning after a time to
take the vows of monasticism. Unwilling to leave his love where by
chance she could become another's, he demanded that she become a nun.
She yielded obedience, and, although but twenty-two years of age,
entered the convent of Argenteuil.
Abelard's mind was still virile and, perhaps to his surprise, the
world again sought him out, anxious still to listen to his masterful
logic. But with his renewed influence came fierce persecution, and
the following years of life were filled with trials and sorrows.
Sixteen years passed after the lovers parted and then Heloise,
prioress of the Paraclete, found a letter of consolation, written by
Abelard to a friend, recounting his sad career. Her response is a
letter of passion and complaining, an equal to which it is hard to
find in all literature. To his cold and formal reply she wrote a
second, questioning and confused, and a third, constrained and
resigned. These three constitute the record of a soul vainly seeking
in spiritual consolation rest from love.
Abelard, with little heart for love or ambition, still stubbornly
contested with his foes. On a journey to Rome, where he had appealed
from a judgment of heresy against his teachings, he, overweary,
turned aside to rest in the monastery of Cluni, | 293.104985 | 1,408 |
2023-11-16 18:20:40.0425810 | 2,227 | 82 |
Produced by David Edwards, Charlie Howard, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
Transcriber’s Note
This Table of Contents was added by the Transcriber and placed in the
Public Domain.
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER I 1
CHAPTER II 10
CHAPTER III 25
CHAPTER IV 37
CHAPTER V 52
CHAPTER VI 59
CHAPTER VII 77
CHAPTER VIII 90
CHAPTER IX 101
CHAPTER X 109
CHAPTER XI 124
CHAPTER XII 132
CHAPTER XIII 143
CHAPTER XIV 155
CHAPTER XV 170
CHAPTER XVI 180
CHAPTER XVII 194
CHAPTER XVIII 202
CHAPTER XIX 219
CHAPTER XX 239
CHAPTER XXI 248
CHAPTER XXII 264
CHAPTER XXIII 274
CHAPTER XXIV 288
CHAPTER XXV 299
A CHICAGO PRINCESS
A CHICAGO
PRINCESS
By ROBERT BARR
Author of “Over the Border,” “The Victors,” “Tekla,”
“In the Midst of Alarms,” “A Woman Intervenes,” etc.
Illustrated by FRANCIS P. WIGHTMAN
[Illustration]
New York · FREDERICK A.
STOKES COMPANY · Publishers
_Copyright, 1904, by_
ROBERT BARR
_All rights reserved_
This edition published in June, 1904
A CHICAGO PRINCESS
CHAPTER I
When I look back upon a certain hour of my life it fills me with wonder
that I should have been so peacefully happy. Strange as it may seem,
utter despair is not without its alloy of joy. The man who daintily
picks his way along a muddy street is anxious lest he soil his polished
boots, or turns up his coat collar to save himself from the shower that
is beginning, eager then to find a shelter; but let him inadvertently
step into a pool, plunging head over ears into foul water, and after
that he has no more anxiety. Nothing that weather can inflict will add
to his misery, and consequently a ray of happiness illumines his gloomy
horizon. He has reached the limit; Fate can do no more; and there is
a satisfaction in attaining the ultimate of things. So it was with me
that beautiful day; I had attained my last phase.
I was living in the cheapest of all paper houses, living as the
Japanese themselves do, on a handful of rice, and learning by
experience how very little it requires to keep body and soul together.
But now, when I had my next meal of rice, it would be at the expense
of my Japanese host, who was already beginning to suspect,--so it
seemed to me,--that I might be unable to liquidate whatever debt I
incurred. He was very polite about it, but in his twinkling little
eyes there lurked suspicion. I have travelled the whole world over,
especially the East, and I find it the same everywhere. When a man
comes down to his final penny, some subtle change in his deportment
seems to make the whole world aware of it. But then, again, this
supposed knowledge on the part of the world may have existed only in my
own imagination, as the Christian Scientists tell us every ill resides
in the mind. Perhaps, after all, my little bowing landlord was not
troubling himself about the payment of the bill, and I only fancied him
uneasy.
If an untravelled person, a lover of beauty, were sitting in my place
on that little elevated veranda, it is possible the superb view spread
out before him might account for serenity in circumstances which to
the ordinary individual would be most depressing. But the view was an
old companion of mine; goodness knows I had looked at it often enough
when I climbed that weary hill and gazed upon the town below me, and
the magnificent harbor of Nagasaki spreading beyond. The water was
intensely blue, dotted with shipping of all nations, from the stately
men-of-war to the ocean tramps and the little coasting schooners. It
was an ever-changing, animated scene; but really I had had enough of it
during all those ineffective months of struggle in the attempt to earn
even the rice and the poor lodging which I enjoyed.
[Illustration: “The twinkling eyes of the Emperor fixed themselves on
Miss Hemster.”
_Page 144_
]
Curiously, it was not of this harbor I was thinking, but of another in
far-distant Europe, that of Boulogne in the north of France, where I
spent a day with my own yacht before I sailed for America. And it was a
comical thought that brought the harbor of Boulogne to my mind. I had
seen a street car there, labelled “Le Dernier Sou,” which I translated
as meaning “The Last Cent.” I never took a trip on this street car,
but I presume somewhere in the outskirts of Boulogne there is a suburb
named “The Last Cent,” and I thought now with a laugh: “Here I am in
Japan, and although I did not take that street car, yet I have arrived
at ‘Le Dernier Sou.’”
This morning I had not gone down to the harbor to prosecute my search
for employment. As with my last cent, I had apparently given that idea
up. There was no employer needing men to whom I had not applied time
and again, willing to take the laborer’s wage for the laborer’s work.
But all my earlier training had been by way of making me a gentleman,
and the manner was still upon me in spite of my endeavors to shake it
off, and I had discovered that business men do not wish gentlemen as
day-laborers. There was every reason that I should be deeply depressed;
yet, strange to say, I was not. Had I at last reached the lotus-eating
content of the vagabond? Was this care-free condition the serenity of
the tramp? Would my next step downward be the unblushing begging of
food, with the confidence that if I were refused at one place I should
receive at another? With later knowledge, looking back at that moment
of mitigated happiness, I am forced to believe that it was the effect
of coming events casting their shadows before. Some occultists tell us
that every action that takes place on the earth, no matter how secretly
done, leaves its impression on some ethereal atmosphere, visible to
a clairvoyant, who can see and describe to us exactly what has taken
place. If this be true, it is possible that our future experiences may
give sub-mental warnings of their approach.
As I sat there in the warm sunlight and looked over the crowded harbor,
I thought of the phrase, “When my ship comes in.” There was shipping
enough in the bay, and possibly, if I could but have known where,
some friend of mine might at that moment be tramping a white deck,
or sitting in a steamer chair, looking up at terrace upon terrace of
the toy houses among which I kept my residence. Perhaps my ship had
come in already if only I knew which were she. As I lay back on the
light bamboo chair, along which I had thrown myself,--a lounging,
easy, half-reclining affair like those we used to have at college,--I
gazed upon the lower town and harbor, taking in the vast blue surface
of the bay; and there along the indigo expanse of the waters, in
striking contrast to them, floated a brilliantly white ship gradually,
imperceptibly approaching. The canvas, spread wing and wing, as it
increased in size, gave it the appearance of a swan swimming toward me,
and I thought lazily:
“It is like a dove coming to tell me that my deluge of misery is past,
and there is an olive-branch of foam in its beak.”
As the whole ship became visible I saw that it, like the canvas,
was pure white, and at first I took it for a large sailing yacht
rapidly making Nagasaki before the gentle breeze that was blowing;
but as she drew near I saw that she was a steamer, whose trim lines,
despite her size, were somewhat unusual in these waters. If this were
indeed a yacht she must be owned by some man of great wealth, for
she undoubtedly cost a fortune to build and a very large income to
maintain. As she approached the more crowded part of the bay, her sails
were lowered and she came slowly in on her own momentum. I fancied I
heard the rattle of the chain as her anchor plunged into the water, and
now I noticed with a thrill that made me sit up in my lounging chair
that the flag which flew at her stern was the Stars and Stripes. It
is true that I had little cause to be grateful to the country which
this piece of bunting represented, for had it not looted me of all I
possessed? Nevertheless in those distant regions an Englishman regards
the United States flag somewhat differently from that of any nation
save his own. Perhaps there is an unconscious feeling of kinship;
perhaps the similarity of language may account for it, because an
Englishman understands American better than any other foreign tongue.
Be that as it may, the listlessness departed from me as I gazed upon
that banner, as crude and gaudy as our own, displaying the most
striking of the primary colors. The yacht rested on the blue waters
as gracefully as if she were a large white waterfowl, and I saw the
sampans swarm around her like a fluffy brood of ducklings.
And now I became conscious that the most polite individual in the
world was making an effort to secure my attention, yet striving to
accomplish his purpose in the most unobtrusive way. My patient and
respected landlord, Yansan, was making deep obeisances before me, | 293.361991 | 1,409 |
2023-11-16 18:20:40.2655980 | 1,063 | 428 |
Produced by Charlene Taylor, Jonathan Ingram, Keith Edkins
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images
generously made available by The Internet Library of Early
Journals.)
Transcriber's note: A few typographical errors have been corrected: they
are listed at the end of the text.
* * * * *
{437}
NOTES AND QUERIES:
A MEDIUM OF INTER-COMMUNICATION FOR LITERARY MEN, ARTISTS, ANTIQUARIES,
GENEALOGISTS, ETC.
"When found, make a note of."--CAPTAIN CUTTLE.
* * * * *
No. 237.]
SATURDAY, MAY 13. 1854.
[Price Fourpence. Stamped Edition 5d.
* * * * *
CONTENTS.
NOTES:-- Page
"Shakspeare's Rime which he made at the Mytre," by
Dr. E. F. Rimbault 439
Rous, the Sottish Psalmist, Provost of Eton College: and
his Will, by the Rev. H. T. Ellacombe 440
Original English Royal Letters to the Grand Masters of
Malta, by William Winthrop 442
Disease among Cattle, by Thos. Nimmo 445
Popiana, by Harry Leroy Temple 445
Hampshire Folk Lore, by Eustace W.
Jacob 446
The most curious Book in the World 446
Minor Notes:--Baptism, Marriage, and Crowning of
Geo. III.--Copernicus--First Instance of Bribery amongst
Members of Parliament--Richard Brinsley Sheridan--Publican's
Invitation--Bishop Burnet again!--Old Custom preserved in
Warwickshire--English Diplomacy v. Russian 447
QUERIES:--
Ancient Tenure of Lands, by A. J. Dunkin 448
Owen Rowe the Regicide 449
Writings of the Martyr Bradford, by the Rev. A. Townsend 449
MINOR QUERIES:--Courtney Family--"The Shipwrecked Lovers"--
Sir John Bingham--Proclamation for making Mustard--Judges
practising at Bar--Celebrated Wagers--"Pay me tribute, or
else----"--"A regular Turk"--Benj. Rush--Per Centum Sign--
Burial Service Tradition--Jean Bart's Descent on Newcastle--
Madame de Stael--Honoria, Daughter of Lord Denny--Hospital
of John of Jerusalem--Heiress of Haddon Hall--Monteith--
Vandyking--Hiel the Bethelite--Earl of Glencairn--Willow
Bark in Ague--"Perturbabantur," &c. 450
MINOR QUERIES WITH ANSWERS:--Seamen's Tickets--Bruce,
Robert--Coronation Custom--William Warner--"Isle of
Beauty"--Edmund Lodge--King John 452
REPLIES:--
Has Execution by Hanging been survived? by William Bates 453
Coleridge's Christabel, by C. Mansfield Ingleby 455
General Whitelocke 455
PHOTOGRAPHIC CORRESPONDENCE:--Gravelly Wax Negatives--
Photographic Experience 456
REPLIES TO MINOR QUERIES:--Turkish Language--Dr. Edward
Daniel Clarke's Charts of the Black Sea--Aristotle on living
Law--Christ's or Cris Cross Row--Titles to the Psalms in
the Syriac Version--"Old Rowley"--Wooden Effigies--Abbott
Families 456
MISCELLANEOUS:--
Notes on Books, &c. 458
Books and Odd Volumes Wanted 458
Notices to Correspondents 459
* * * * *
MR. RUSKIN'S NEW WORK.
Now ready, in crown 8vo., with 15 Plates, price 8s. 6d. cloth,
LECTURES ON ARCHITECTURE AND PAINTING.
BY JOHN RUSKIN,
Author of "The Stones of Venice," "Modern Painters," "Seven Lamps of
Architecture," &c.
London: SMITH, ELDER, & CO.,
65. Cornhill.
* * * * *
GOVERNMENT INSPECTION OF NUNNERIES.
This Day, in fcp. 8vo., price 3s. 6d. (post free, 4s.),
QUICKSANDS ON FOREIGN SH | 293.585008 | 1,410 |
2023-11-16 18:20:40.2906900 | 1,059 | 525 |
Produced by Paul Haxo from page images generously made
available by Google and the Bodleian Library.
THE
CORSICAN BROTHERS
A NOVEL
BY
ALEXANDRE DUMAS
TRANSLATED BY HENRY FRITH
LONDON
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS
BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL
NEW YORK: 416, BROOME STREET
1880
LONDON:
PRINTED BY WOODFALL AND KINDER,
MILFORD LANE, STRAND, W.C.
TO
HENRY IRVING
THE LATEST REPRESENTATIVE OF THE TWIN BROTHERS
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED BY
THE TRANSLATOR
THE
CORSICAN BROTHERS.
CHAPTER I.
IN the beginning of March, 1841, I was travelling in Corsica.
Nothing is more picturesque and more easy to accomplish than a journey
in Corsica. You can embark at Toulon, in twenty hours you will be in
Ajaccio, and then in twenty-four hours more you are at Bastia.
Once there you can hire or purchase a horse. If you wish to hire a
horse you can do so for five francs a-day; if you purchase one you can
have a good animal for one hundred and fifty francs. And don't sneer
at the moderate price, for the horse hired or purchased will perform
as great feats as the famous Gascon horse which leaped over the Pont
Neuf, which neither Prospero nor Nautilus, the heroes of Chantilly and
the Champ de Mars could do. He will traverse roads which Balmat
himself could not cross without _crampons,_ and will go over bridges
upon which Auriol would need a balancing pole.
As for the traveller, all he has to do is to give the horse his head
and let him go as he pleases; he does not mind the danger. We may add
that with this horse, which can go anywhere, the traveller can
accomplish his fifteen leagues a day without stopping to bait.
From time to time, while the tourist may be halting to examine some
ancient castle, built by some old baron or legendary hero, or to
sketch a tower built ages ago by the Genoese, the horse will be
contented to graze by the road side, or to pluck the mosses from the
rocks in the vicinity.
As to lodging for the night, it is still more simple in Corsica. The
traveller having arrived at a village, passes down through the
principal street, and making his own choice of the house wherein he
will rest, he knocks at the door. An instant after, the master or
mistress will appear upon the threshold, invite the traveller to
dismount; offer him a share of the family supper and the whole of his
own bed, and next morning, when seeing him safely resume his journey,
will thank him for the preference he has accorded to his house.
As for remuneration, such a thing is never hinted at. The master would
regard it as an insult if the subject were broached. If, however, the
servant happen to be a young girl, one may fitly offer her a
handkerchief, with which she can make up a picturesque coiffure for a
fete day. If the domestic be a male he will gladly accept a poignard,
with which he can kill his enemy, should he meet him.
There is one thing more to remark, and that is, as sometimes happens,
the servants of the house are relatives of the owner, and the former
being in reduced circumstances, offer their services to the latter in
consideration of board and lodging and a few piastres per month.
And it must not be supposed that the masters are not well served by
their cousins to the fifteenth and sixteenth degree, because the
contrary is the case, and the custom is not thought anything of.
Corsica is a French Department certainly, but Corsica is very far from
being France.
As for robbers, one never hears of them, yet there are bandits in
abundance; but these gentlemen must in no wise be confounded one with
another.
So go without fear to Ajaccio, to Bastia, with a purse full of money
hanging to your saddle-bow, and you may traverse the whole island
without a shadow of danger, but do not go from Oceana to Levaco, if
you happen to have an enemy who has declared the Vendetta against you,
for I would not answer for your safety during that short journey of
six miles.
Well, then, I was in Corsica, as I have said, at the beginning of the
month of March, and I was alone; Jadin having remained at Rome.
I had come across from Elba, had disembarked at Bastia, and there had
| 293.6101 | 1,411 |
2023-11-16 18:20:40.3899500 | 1,085 | 442 |
Produced by Chris Curnow, Paul Clark and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
Transcriber's Note:
Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as
possible. Some changes of spelling and punctuation have been made.
They are listed at the end of the text.
Italic text has been marked with _underscores_.
[Illustration:
J. C. BURROW, F.R.P.S. BREAGE CHURCH. Camborne.]
THE
Story of an Ancient Parish
BREAGE WITH GERMOE,
With some account of its
Armigers, Worthies and
Unworthies, Smugglers
and Wreckers, Its
Traditions and Superstitions
BY
H. R. COULTHARD, M.A.
1913.
THE CAMBORNE PRINTING AND STATIONERY COMPANY, LIMITED.
CAMBORNE, CORNWALL.
MR. J. A. D. BRIDGER, 112a and 112b, Market Jew Street. Penzance.
_I dedicate this small volume to the friends and neighbours who in the
first place suggested the writing of it to me by telling me stories of
the days of their fathers._
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE CELTIC PERIOD 9
II. THE SAXONS 28
III. FROM THE NORMAN CONQUEST TO THE REFORMATION 35
IV. THE REFORMATION TO THE END OF THE COMMONWEALTH 59
V. RECENT TIMES 82
VI. THE GODOLPHINS 100
VII. THE ARUNDELLS, DE PENGERSICKS, MILTONS AND SPARNONS 115
VIII. WORTHIES AND UNWORTHIES 129
IX. PLACE NAMES AND SUPERSTITIONS 148
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
Breage Church, Frontispiece 2
Celtic Cross in Breage Churchyard 24
Frescos in Breage Church 51
St. Germoe's Chair 55
Godolphin House 100
A Godolphin Helmet in Breage Church 103
Pengersick Castle 119
PREFACE.
The facts and thoughts which comprise this little book were many of
them, in the first instance, arranged for use in sermons on the Sundays
preceding our local Feast Day, as some attempt to interest Parishioners
in the story of our Church and parish.
I have to acknowledge with gratitude much information given me most
ungrudgingly, from his great store of antiquarian learning, by the
Reverend T. Taylor, Vicar of St. Just; likewise my thanks are due to Mr.
H. Jenner for kindly help and information upon the etymology of local
place names. I must also acknowledge the free use I have made of facts
bearing upon the history of Breage and Germoe taken from Mr.
Baring-Gould's "Historic Characters and Events in Cornwall," and at the
same time I have to express my thanks to the Reverend H. J. Warner,
Vicar of Yealmpton, the Reverend H. G. Burden, Vicar of Leominster, and
Mr. A. E. Spender for valuable information and assistance. I have been
greatly helped in my examination of the Parish Registers by the
excellent transcription of large parts of them made by Mrs. Jocelyn
Barnes. Finally I have to thank a great number of kind friends at
Breage, who have imparted to me the fast fading traditions of other
times, to whom I venture to dedicate this brief record of days that are
no more.
_Breage,
All Saints' Day, 1912._
Date of |
Insti- | LIST OF THE VICARS OF BREAGE.
tution. |
|--------------------------------+-------------------------------------
-- |WILLIAM, SON OF RICHARD |Died or resigned during the Interdict
1219 |WILLIAM, SON OF HUMPHREY |
1264 |MASTER ROBERT DE LA MORE |Resigned to become Canon of Glasney,
| | ultimately parson of Yeovil.
1264 |MASTER STEPHENUS DE ARBOR |
-- |SIR PASCASIUS |No date of Institution. Old, blind
| | and infirm in 1310.
1313 |SIR DAVID DE LYSPEIN |
-- |SIR JOHN YURL DE TREGESOU |No date of Institution.
1362 |HENRY CRETTIER |
-- |SIR WILLIAM PELLOUR |No date of Institution.
1393 |SIR JOHN GODE |Died at Breage.
1403 |MASTER WILLIAM P | 293.70936 | 1,412 |
2023-11-16 18:20:40.4640570 | 1,023 | 446 |
Produced by David Widger
THE DIARY OF SAMUEL PEPYS M.A. F.R.S.
CLERK OF THE ACTS AND SECRETARY TO THE ADMIRALTY
TRANSCRIBED FROM THE SHORTHAND MANUSCRIPT IN THE PEPYSIAN LIBRARY
MAGDALENE COLLEGE CAMBRIDGE BY THE REV. MYNORS BRIGHT M.A. LATE FELLOW
AND PRESIDENT OF THE COLLEGE
(Unabridged)
WITH LORD BRAYBROOKE'S NOTES
1964
By Samuel Pepys
Edited With Additions By
Henry B. Wheatley F.S.A.
LONDON
GEORGE BELL & SONS YORK ST. COVENT GARDEN
CAMBRIDGE DEIGHTON BELL & CO.
1893
JANUARY 1663-1664
January 1st, Went to bed between 4 and 5 in the morning with my mind
in good temper of satisfaction and slept till about 8, that many people
came to speak with me. Among others one came with the best New Year's
gift that ever I had, namely from Mr. Deering, with a bill of exchange
drawn upon himself for the payment of L50 to Mr. Luellin. It being for
my use with a letter of compliment. I am not resolved what or how to do
in this business, but I conclude it is an extraordinary good new year's
gift, though I do not take the whole, or if I do then give some of it to
Luellin. By and by comes Captain Allen and his son Jowles and his wife,
who continues pretty still. They would have had me set my hand to a
certificate for his loyalty, and I know not what his ability for any
employment. But I did not think it fit, but did give them a pleasing
denial, and after sitting with me an hour they went away. Several others
came to me about business, and then being to dine at my uncle Wight's
I went to the Coffee-house, sending my wife by Will, and there staid
talking an hour with Coll. Middleton, and others, and among other things
about a very rich widow, young and handsome, of one Sir Nicholas Gold's,
a merchant, lately fallen, and of great courtiers that already look
after her: her husband not dead a week yet. She is reckoned worth
L80,000. Thence to my uncle Wight's, where Dr. of-----, among others,
dined, and his wife, a seeming proud conceited woman, I know not what to
make of her, but the Dr's. discourse did please me very well about the
disease of the stone, above all things extolling Turpentine, which he
told me how it may be taken in pills with great ease. There was brought
to table a hot pie made of a swan I sent them yesterday, given me by Mr.
Howe, but we did not eat any of it. But my wife and I rose from table,
pretending business, and went to the Duke's house, the first play I have
been at these six months, according to my last vowe, and here saw the
so much cried-up play of "Henry the Eighth;" which, though I went with
resolution to like it, is so simple a thing made up of a great many
patches, that, besides the shows and processions in it, there is nothing
in the world good or well done. Thence mightily dissatisfied back at
night to my uncle Wight's, and supped with them, but against my stomach
out of the offence the sight of my aunt's hands gives me, and ending
supper with a mighty laugh, the greatest I have had these many months,
at my uncle's being out in his grace after meat, we rose and broke up,
and my wife and I home and to bed, being sleepy since last night.
2nd. Up and to the office, and there sitting all the morning, and at
noon to the 'Change, in my going met with Luellin and told him how I had
received a letter and bill for L50 from Mr. Deering, and delivered it
to him, which he told me he would receive for me. To which I consented,
though professed not to desire it if he do not consider himself
sufficiently able by the service I have done, and that it is rather my
desire to have nothing till he be further sensible of my service. From
the 'Change I brought him home and dined with us, and after dinner I
took my wife out, for I do find that I am not able to conquer myself as
to going to plays till | 293.783467 | 1,413 |
2023-11-16 18:20:40.9572200 | 4,079 | 58 |
E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Iris Schröder-Gehring, and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file
which includes the original illustrations (some in color).
See 39484-h.htm or 39484-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/39484/39484-h/39484-h.htm)
or
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/39484/39484-h.zip)
Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics).
[Illustration: "MR. OWL AWAKENED THE FAIRIES AND TOLD THEM TO
LISTEN TO HIS BOOK."--_Page 2_]
DADDY'S BEDTIME BIRD STORIES
by
MARY GRAHAM BONNER
With four illustrations in color by
Florence Choate and Elizabeth Curtis
[Illustration: Emblem]
New York
Frederick A. Stokes Company
Publishers
Copyright, 1917, by
Frederick A. Stokes Company
All rights reserved; including that of translation
into foreign languages
TO
"E. E. E."
CONTENTS
PAGE
OLD MR. OWL WRITES A BOOK 1
THE WOODPECKERS START A BIRD BAND 4
THE CARDINAL BIRD AND THE ROBIN 7
THE WINTER WRENS' DEW-DROP BATHS 10
THE SEAGULLS MOVE TO BLUEY COVE 13
HOW THE LITTLE REDBIRD BECAME RED 16
POOR OLD MR. OWL'S TOOTHACHE 19
THE SOLOIST OF THE BIRD CONCERT 22
THE ROBINS OPEN A SPRING SHOP 25
THE RACE BETWEEN THE SECRETARY BIRDS 28
THE QUARREL BETWEEN NAUGHTY LITTLE SPARROWS 31
THE SUCCESSFUL CONCERT OF THE CHICKADEES 34
THE COLONY OF STARLINGS GIVE A BALL 37
ROBIN REDBREAST'S AND MISS ROBIN'S WEDDING 40
THE TAME CANARY BIRD AND HIS MISTRESS 43
THE PET BIRD OF THE WARD 46
THE EAGLE'S PRIDE AS THE BIRD OF FREEDOM 49
WHAT THE BIRDS THOUGHT OF THE FOURTH OF JULY 52
MR. NIGHTINGALE'S NEW FRIEND MR. BLACKBIRD 55
MR. PLAIN SPARROW CALLS ON DUCKS 58
FARMER'S SCARECROW PROTECTS A CORN-FIELD 61
THE BRAVE BROWN SPARROWS IN WINTER 64
WHAT THE RAINBOW THINKS OF THE WORLD 67
EAGLES AND RAVENS 70
THE EAGLES WHO WERE ALWAYS STILL 73
THE BOBOLINKS HAVE A TEA PARTY 76
A HAPPY DAY IN BIRDLAND 79
THE ROBINS' SPRING CONCERT 82
THE CROWS AT THE FAIRIES' BALL 85
THE NAUGHTY LITTLE SICK SNOWBIRDS 88
A SPARROW CALLS ON A HIPPOPOTAMUS 91
THE ROBINS COME TO THE RESCUE 94
MR. AND MRS. OWL'S STOREROOM 97
POLLY WAS THE HEROINE OF THE FIRE 100
THE WINTER HOME FOR THE WREN FAMILY 103
THE VAIN GOLDFINCH LEARNS A LESSON 106
THE BATS HAVE A JOLLIFICATION 109
THE REPENTANCE OF LITTLE JIM CROW 112
THE RESCUE OF THE CANARY BIRD 115
SMALL FIRE DEPARTMENT RESCUES BIRDS 118
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"Mr. Owl awakened the fairies and told them to
listen to his book" _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
"In the afternoons Elizabeth lets him out of his cage" 44
"'We've been on this chair so long,' said the fourth eagle" 74
"The mother humming-bird hurried back" 96
_These stories first appeared in the American Press Association
Service and the Western Newspaper Union._
_Many of the sketches in this volume are the work of Rebecca
McCann, creator of the "Cheerful Cherub," etc._
OLD MR. OWL WRITES A BOOK
[Illustration: Old Mr. Owl Danced with the Rest.]
"Old Mr. Owl wanted to write a book and he asked the fairies how to set
about doing it," commenced daddy.
"'Well,' said the fairy queen, 'it makes a good deal of difference, old
Mr. Owl, what you want to write about.'
"'What nonsense!' he said. 'It's just that I want to know how to start
off with my book. Just think what a marvelous book it will be--as for as
long as folks can remember I've been called the Wise Bird--the bird
who's awake at night and whose eyes are so very bright!'
"'Before I started saying what a fine book it would be, if I
were you, I'd write it and give other people the chance to say so,'
said the fairy queen.
"Mr. Owl began to write with his pen, made out of one of Mr. Turkey
Gobbler's best feathers, on a large, flat stone, which he put in the
hollow of his tree. Very late in the night, he awakened the fairies who
had been sleeping, and told them to listen to his book. Then he called
all the owls from the neighborhood with a loud hoot-hoot. But before he
began to read, he said:
"'I've not enough light. I will hurt my eyes--my beautiful,
wise, big eyes.'
"You see he had made a special arrangement to have his own lights, and
when he said that he hadn't enough, from all over came countless little
fireflies. They sparkled and gave the most beautiful light all over the
woods, and Mr. Owl put his spectacles on his nose, and said:
"'Now I see to perfection--which means quite all right.' And Mr. Owl
commenced reading his book.
"It told about the parties, balls, and picnics in fairyland, and of the
wild adventures and happenings in the woods. The fairies were absolutely
delighted that a book had been written with so much about them in it.
"And the fairy queen was more than happy, for the last chapter was all
about her.
"'Well,' said Mr. Owl, 'you made me ashamed of myself for boasting about
my book before I had written it, and so the only thing I could do was to
write a wise chapter all about you.'
"And the fairy queen smiled with pleasure and also with amusement--for
Mr. Owl had certainly thought he could write a wise book--though the
next time, perhaps, he wouldn't say so before he had written it.
"The fireflies had been sparkling and flashing lights all this time, and
finally they whispered:
"'Have a dance, all of you; we'll give you the light and dance too. It
is not well to read books all the time--you must dance.'
"So they all ended off with a fine dance, and old Mr. Owl, with his book
under his wing, danced with the rest of the owls and fairies. But before
the evening was over he presented to the fairy queen a copy of his book,
which said on the cover, 'A BOOK, by Wise Mr. Owl.'"
THE WOODPECKERS START A BIRD BAND
The Woodpecker family were around on various trees drumming, drumming on
the bark. Mr. Hairy Woodpecker, Mr. Downy Woodpecker, and Mr. Red-Headed
Woodpecker were hard at work.
"Let's start a band," suggested Mr. Hairy Woodpecker.
"What's that you say?" asked Mr. Red-Headed Woodpecker, who had been so
busy at work that he had not heard what Mr. Hairy Woodpecker had been
suggesting.
"A band," repeated Mr. Hairy Woodpecker.
"What sort of a band?" asked Mr. Red-Headed Woodpecker.
"In the first place," continued Mr. Hairy Woodpecker, "our bills are not
only fine tools for the work we have to do getting the insects from the
trees, and burrowing for our nests, but they would be splendid to use
in beating the drums in a band."
"Where would we get the drums?" asked Mr. Red-Headed Woodpecker.
"The trees, of course, you silly!" said Mr. Hairy Woodpecker.
"Oh yes, yes," agreed Mr. Red-Headed Woodpecker.
And Mr. Downy Woodpecker said, "Of course, of course. The trees will be
our drums."
"We'll get the other birds," said Mr. Hairy Woodpecker, "to help us. We
need something in a band besides the drums. We will ask the goldfinches,
the mocking-birds, the bobolinks, the phoebe and chickadee families, all
of the warbler and vireo families, and the robins of course. Then I
think we'll ask the orioles, the whippoorwills, the thrush family, and
the song sparrows."
"Oh," said Mr. Downy Woodpecker, "that will make a perfect band. We'd
better get started right away." And the woodpeckers began to practise.
They made such a noise that the birds came from far and near to see what
they were doing. Mr. Sapsucker, Mr. Crested Woodpecker, and Mr. Flicker
Woodpecker had all joined in beating the drums too!
"Why are you making so much noise?" asked the birds as they flew around
to the nearby trees to talk to the woodpeckers.
"Oh," said Mr. Hairy Woodpecker, "we were just going to ask you all to
join our band. We will beat the drums."
"And just what do you want us to do?" asked Mr. Robin Redbreast, who was
always eager to help.
"You must all sing."
"But we all sing differently," chirped a song sparrow. "We know
different tunes and different songs."
"Oh," said Mr. Hairy Woodpecker, "I never thought about that. But never
mind, you can have little parts to sing alone, and other choruses where
you will all sing together. I'm sure it will be a very fine band after
we have practised." And they began pounding the drums again.
"Well," said Mr. Robin Redbreast, "if the bird band isn't to be the
finest in the land, at least we'll make a cheerful noise!"
THE CARDINAL BIRD AND THE ROBIN
"The cardinal bird," said daddy, "is a very superior bird and will not
come down to the ground. The lowest he will come is to a bush, but he
never hops along the woods or lawns, no, not he!
"One day Robin Redbreast was walking on a green lawn. He stopped several
times to pick up a worm from the ground, swallow it whole and then walk
along. In a tree nearby he spied the cardinal bird.
"'Hello,' he said cheerily. 'Won't you come and have a worm with me?
There are a number in this lawn, and the good rain we had last night has
made the ground so nice and soft. Do join me,' he ended with a bright
chirp.
"'No, thank you,' said the cardinal bird. 'I wouldn't soil my feet on
that ground. I hate the ground, absolutely hate it.' And the cardinal
bird looked very haughty and proud.
"'Come now,' said Robin Redbreast, 'you won't get your feet dirty. And
if you do,' he whispered knowingly, 'I can lead you to the nicest brook
where you can wash them off with fresh rain water. Do come!'
"'I cannot,' said the cardinal bird. 'I do not like the earth. I want to
be flying in the air, or sitting on the branches of trees. Sometimes I
will perch for a little while on a laurel bush--but come any lower? Dear
me, no, I couldn't.'
"'It's a great shame,' said Robin Redbreast. 'Of course there is no
accounting for taste.'
"'Thank you for inviting me,' added the cardinal bird politely. For he
prided himself on his good manners.
"Pretty soon some people came along. At once they noticed the beautiful
cardinal bird. He wore his best red suit which he wears all the
time--except in the winter, when he adds gray to his wings. His collar
and tie were of black and his feathers stuck up on top of his head so as
to make him look very stylish and fine.
"'Oh, what a wonderful bird!' said the people. Mr. Cardinal Bird knew
they were admiring him, of course--and so did Robin Redbreast. No one
had noticed _him_, but he didn't care, for he knew Mr. Cardinal Bird was
by far the more beautiful, and a robin hasn't a mean disposition.
"Well, when the cardinal bird heard the praise he began to sing--a
glorious high voice he had, and he sounded his clear notes over
and over again. Then suddenly he stopped, cocked his head on one
side, as though to say,
"'And what do you think of me now?'
"From down on the ground Robin Redbreast had been listening. 'Oh, that
was wonderful, wonderful!' he trilled.
"'Listen to that dear little robin,' said one of the people. 'I must get
him some bread crumbs.'
"When the bread crumbs were scattered over the ground, Robin Redbreast
invited the cardinal bird down again thinking they were for him! But the
beautiful, proud bird would not come down, and the people were saying,
'After all there is nothing quite so nice as a dear little robin.'"
THE WINTER WRENS' DEW-DROP BATHS
"The winter wren is really with us during the summer too," said daddy.
"But he is too shy to be near us. We can only hear him sing sometimes.
When winter comes, though, he goes to people for protection and picks up
the crumbs they give him.
"Yesterday he was sitting on a snow-berry bush with a tiny companion.
The snow-berry bushes are full and leafy, and in the spring and summer
are covered with very tiny pink blossoms. In the autumn and winter they
are covered with little berries which look as if they had been made out
of snow.
"'Oh, how I dread the winter!' said the tiny wren. 'Just imagine how
dreadful it would be if no one put any bread crumbs out for us, or no
dog left us some of his dinner on a back porch.'
"'Now,' said Mr. Brown Wren, 'you mustn't think of such sad thoughts.
You always do! Someone will look after us. And maybe we'll find a few
spiders now and then in the cracks, and then well have a regular feast.'
"The next day they were back again on the snow-berry bush, and the day
was much warmer. Now the wrens love to bathe above all things! Even in
the winter they will go through a little sheet of ice and get into the
cold, cold water underneath. For they must get their baths! And in the
spring, when the tiny wrens are brought forth from their mossy nests,
the first lesson they have is of bathing in some nearby brook.
"But this day it was early in the morning, the snow-berry bush was
covered with dew-drops and the wrens were delighted.
"'The sun will drive them away soon. Let's take them while we get the
chance,' whispered Mr. Brown Wren.
"'Yes, yes,' said his small companion. 'We will soon have to bathe when
it is so cold. Let us have a good warm bath first.'
"And then those two little brown wrens took the dew-drops in their
beaks, and dropped each one in turn on their feathers. Then they got
under some leaves full of dew-drops and shook them down over their
little feathered bodies.
"After they were well covered with the dew-drops they began to shake all
over just as every bird does when he takes a bath. And back they went to
take another bath when this one was over. For they seemed to enjoy their
last warm bath so much!
"Finally they had bathed enough, and the sun appeared strong as could
be, and shining very hard. They perched still on the branches of the
snow-berry bush and bathed now in the hot sun. Soon their little
feathers were quite dry and they began to sing.
"And truly I think their song was one of gladness because of their
dew-drop baths!"
THE SEAGULLS MOVE TO BLUEY COVE
[Illustration: Mr. and Mrs. Seagull Flew Off with Bluey.]
"Mr. and Mrs. Seagull didn't really know what to do," said daddy. "They
loved their home, which was in a big harbor, for they enjoyed seeing the
boats pass and hearing the different whistles. All kinds of boats
passed--ferryboats, sailboats, old fishing-boats, great big boats that
went across the ocean, and little tugboats.
"The seagulls would fly overhead, and then they'd land on top of the
water, but they never could stay there long, as the boats would come
along, and they would have to fly off. Of late Mr. and Mrs. Seagull,
although they were still as fond of their home as ever, became rather
worried, for the little seagulls didn't seem to be able to get out of
the way of the boats as quickly as the old seagulls could. Mr. and Mrs.
Seagull were afraid that one of them might get hurt by a boat.
"Of course the little seagulls were quite certain that nothing like that
would ever happen, but one day it did | 294.27663 | 1,414 |
2023-11-16 18:20:40.9793200 | 1,282 | 66 |
Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net. (This file was produced from images
generously made available by The Internet Archive/American
Libraries.)
PERSONAL NARRATIVES
OF THE
BATTLES OF THE REBELLION,
BEING
PAPERS READ BEFORE THE
RHODE ISLAND SOLDIERS AND SAILORS
HISTORICAL SOCIETY.
No. 2.
_"Quaeque ipse miserrima vidi,
Et quorum pars magna fui."_
PROVIDENCE:
SIDNEY S. RIDER
1878.
Copyright by
SIDNEY S. RIDER.
1878.
PRINTED BY PROVIDENCE PRESS COMPANY.
THE RHODE ISLAND ARTILLERY
AT THE
FIRST BATTLE OF BULL RUN.
BY
J. ALBERT MONROE,
(Late Lieutenant-Colonel First Rhode Island Light Artillery.)
PROVIDENCE:
SIDNEY S. RIDER.
1878.
Copyright by
SIDNEY S. RIDER.
1878.
THE RHODE ISLAND ARTILLERY AT THE FIRST BATTLE OF BULL RUN.
When the first call for troops, to serve for the term of three months, was
made by President Lincoln, in 1861, for the purpose of suppressing the
rebellion, which had assumed most dangerous proportions to the National
Government, the Marine Artillery, of this city, responded cheerfully to
the call, and under the command of Captain Charles H. Tompkins, left
Providence, April eighteenth, for the seat of war.
The senior officer of the company, who remained at home, was Captain
William H. Parkhurst, then book-keeper at the Mechanics Bank on South Main
Street. Before the company was fairly away, I called upon him and
suggested the propriety of calling a meeting to organize a new company to
take the place of the one that had gone. The suggestion met his views, and
he at once published a notice that a meeting for the purpose would be held
that evening at the armory of the Marines, on Benefit Street. The meeting
was largely attended, and comprised among its numbers a great many of our
most intelligent and influential citizens. A large number of names were
enrolled that night as members of the new company, and arrangements were
made to have the armory open daily, for the purpose of obtaining
additional signatures to the roll of membership. In a few days some three
hundred names were obtained, and every man whose name was enrolled seemed
to take the greatest interest in having the work proceed.
By general consent, rather than by appointment or election, I assumed the
duty of conducting the drills and of reducing matters to a system. It was
supposed at the time that the force already called into the field,
consisting of seventy-five thousand men, would be amply sufficient to
effectually quell the disturbance that had arisen at the South, but there
appeared to be in the minds of all the men who gathered at the Marines'
Armory, a quiet determination to go to the assistance of those who had
already gone, should they appear to need aid. The call for men to serve
for the period of three years put a new phase upon matters. Those whose
private business was of such importance that absence from home that length
of time would injure the interests of others as well as their own,
withdrew, leaving more than a sufficient number to man a full battery.
From that time drilling of the men proceeded uninterruptedly both day and
night. A greater number than the capacity of the armory would admit of
drilling at one time, presented themselves daily. Many of the evenings
were spent in taking the men out on the streets and to vacant lots near
by, exercising them in marching drill. Through the influence of Governor
Sprague the company was furnished with a complete battery of twelve
pounder James guns, which arrived here some time in May, I think, and then
the drills became spirited in exercise in the manual of the piece,
mechanical maneuvres, as well as in marching.
About the first of June Lieutenant William H. Reynolds and First Sergeant
Thomas F. Vaughn of the three months battery, were appointed Captain and
First Lieutenant respectively, and J. Albert Monroe, John A. Tompkins and
William B. Weeden were appointed Second, Third and Fourth Lieutenants, and
they were so commissioned. The commissions should have been one captain,
two first lieutenants and two second lieutenants, but there was so little
knowledge of just the right way to do things at that time, that this error
occurred, and it was not until after the First Battle of Bull Run that it
was corrected.
On the sixth of June, 1861, the company was mustered into the United
States service by Colonel S. Loomis of the United States Army, for the
period of "three years unless sooner discharged," in a large room of a
building on Eddy street.
On the eighth of June, the regular business of soldier's life began by the
company going into camp on Dexter Training Ground. The time was occupied
in detachment and battery drills until the nineteenth of the month, when
the guns, carriages, and the horses also, if my memory serves me, were
embarked on the steamer Kill-von-Kull, at the Fox Point wharf. The steamer
landed at Elizabethport, New Jersey, where the battery and men were
transferred to cars. The train left Elizabethport about four o'clock in
the afternoon. The journey to Washington was a most tedious one.
Harrisburg was not reached until the next morning, and it was not until
the following morning that the train arrived in Washington.
Although the journey was a long one, and tiresome, many incidents
transpired to relieve the tedium of the trip | 294.29873 | 1,415 |
2023-11-16 18:20:41.3400880 | 421 | 77 |
Produced by Moti Ben-Ari and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
THE
FIRST AFGHAN WAR.
BY
MOWBRAY MORRIS.
London:
SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON,
CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET.
1878.
[_All rights reserved._]
PREFACE.
The following pages pretend to give nothing more than a short summary
of events already recorded by recognised authorities.
THE FIRST AFGHAN WAR.
It was in the year 1808, when the power of Napoleon was at its height,
that diplomatic relations were first opened between the Courts of
Calcutta and Cabul. Napoleon, when in Egypt, had meditated on the
chances of striking a fatal blow at England through her Indian
dependencies; some correspondence had actually passed between him and
Tippoo Saib on the subject, and subsequently, in 1801, he had concluded
a treaty with the Russian Emperor Paul for an invasion of India by
a force of 70,000 men, to be composed of equal parts of French and
Russian troops. The proposed line of march was to lie through Astrakhan
and Afghanistan to the Indus, and was to be heralded by Zemaun Shah,
who then ruled at Cabul, at the head of 100,000 Afghans. There was but
little danger indeed to be apprehended from Afghanistan alone, but
Afghanistan with Russia and France in the background was capable of
proving a very troublesome enemy. In such circumstances the attitude
of Persia was of the last importance, and Marquess Wellesley, then
Viceroy of India, at once proceeded to convert a possible enemy into
a certain and valuable ally. A young officer who had distinguished | 294.659498 | 1,416 |
2023-11-16 18:20:41.4743000 | 1,144 | 498 |
Produced by Rose Mawhorter and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
Transcriber's Notes
All obvious spelling errors have been corrected.
The Greek word Ὠθεὰ has been corrected to Ὠ θεὰ.
BELL'S ENGLISH HISTORY SOURCE BOOKS
_General Editors_: +S. E. Winbolt+, M.A., and +Kenneth Bell+, M.A.
YORK AND LANCASTER
BELL'S ENGLISH HISTORY SOURCE BOOKS.
_Volumes now Ready, 1s. net each._
=449-1066.= =The Welding of the Race.= Edited by the Rev.
+John Wallis+, M.A.
=1066-1154.= =The Normans in England.= Edited by +A. E.
Bland+, M.A.
=1154-1216.= =The Angevins and the Charter.= Edited by
+S. M. Toyne+, M.A.
=1216-1307.= =The Growth of Parliament, and the War with
Scotland.= Edited by +W. D. Robieson+, M.A.
=1307-1399.= =War and Misrule.= Edited by +A. A.
Locke+.
=1399-1485.= =York and Lancaster.= Edited by +W. Garmon
Jones+, M.A.
=1485-1547.= =The Reformation and the Renaissance.= Edited
by +F. W. Bewsher+, B.A.
=1547-1603.= =The Age of Elizabeth.= Edited by +Arundell
Esdaile+, M.A.
=1603-1660.= =Puritanism and Liberty.= Edited by +Kenneth
Bell+, M.A.
=1660-1714.= =A Constitution in Making.= Edited by +G. B.
Perrett+, M.A.
=1714-1760.= =Walpole and Chatham.= Edited by +K. A.
Esdaile+.
=1760-1801.= =American Independence and the French
Revolution.= Edited by +S. E. Winbolt+, M.A.
=1801-1815.= =England and Napoleon.= Edited by +S. E.
Winbolt+, M.A.
=1815-1837.= =Peace and Reform.= Edited by +A. C. W.
Edwards+, M.A., Christ's Hospital.
=1837-1856.= =Commercial Politics.= By +R. H.
Gretton+.
=1856-1876.= =Palmerston to Disraeli.= Edited by +Ewing
Harding+, B.A.
=1876-1887.= =Imperialism and Mr. Gladstone.= Edited by
+R. H. Gretton+, M.A.
* * * * *
=1563-1913.= =Canada.= Edited by +James Munro+,
Lecturer at Edinburgh University.
BELL'S SCOTTISH HISTORY SOURCE BOOKS.
=1637-1688.= =The Scottish Covenanters.= Edited by +J.
Pringle Thomson+, M.A.
=1689-1746.= =The Jacobite Rebellions.= Edited by +J.
Pringle Thomson+, M.A.
LONDON: G. BELL AND SONS, LTD.
YORK AND LANCASTER
1399-1485
COMPILED BY
W. GARMON JONES, M.A.
ASSISTANT LECTURER IN HISTORY, UNIVERSITY OF LIVERPOOL
[Illustration]
LONDON
G. BELL AND SONS, LTD.
1914
INTRODUCTION
This series of English History Source Books is intended for use with
any ordinary textbook of English History. Experience has conclusively
shown that such apparatus is a valuable--nay, an indispensable--adjunct
to the history lesson. It is capable of two main uses: either by
way of lively illustration at the close of a lesson, or by way of
inference-drawing, before the textbook is read, at the beginning of
the lesson. The kind of problems and exercises that may be based on
the documents are legion, and are admirably illustrated in a _History
of England for Schools_, Part I., by Keatinge and Frazer, pp. 377-381.
However, we have no wish to prescribe for the teacher the manner in
which he shall exercise his craft, but simply to provide him and his
pupils with materials hitherto not readily accessible for school
purposes. The very moderate price of the books in this series should
bring them within the reach of every secondary school. Source books
enable the pupil to take a more active part than hitherto in the
history lesson. Here is the apparatus, the raw material: its use we
leave to teacher and taught.
Our belief is that the books may profitably be used by all grades
of historical students between the standards of fourth-form boys
in secondary schools and undergraduates at Universities. What
differentiates students at one extreme from those at the other is not
so much the | 294.79371 | 1,417 |
2023-11-16 18:20:41.4875120 | 373 | 72 |
Produced by Irma Spehar, Markus Brenner and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
THE CONDITION AND TENDENCIES
OF
Technical Education in Germany
BY
ARTHUR HENRY CHAMBERLAIN
Professor of Education and Principal of the Normal School
of Manual Training, Art, and Domestic Economy,
Throop Polytechnic Institute, Pasadena, California:
Author of "Educative Hand-Work Manuals"
and "A Bibliography of Manual Arts"
[Illustration]
SYRACUSE, N. Y.
C. W. BARDEEN, PUBLISHER
1908
Copyright, 1908, by C. W. BARDEEN
INTRODUCTION
The question of the technical phases of education is, with any nation, a
vital one. Perhaps this is true of Germany as it is of no other European
country. This may be mainly due to one of several causes. First, as to
the length of time technical education has had a place in the German
schools. In some form or another, and in a greater or lesser degree,
such instruction has been in vogue for many years, and has in no small
measure become part and parcel of the educational fabric of the nation.
Again, throughout the various German States, the work is rather widely
differentiated, this owing in part to the fact that the varying lines of
industry in adjacent localities even, give color and bent to the
technical education of any particular locality. An extensive field is
thus comprehended under the term "technical education". Then, too | 294.806922 | 1,418 |
2023-11-16 18:20:41.5263150 | 324 | 18 |
Produced by Giovanni Fini, Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, David
Garcia and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images
made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
—Obvious print and punctuation errors were corrected.
—Bold text has been rendered as =bold text=.
AN EXAMINATION
OF
WEISMANNISM
Oxford
HORACE HART, PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY
[Illustration: AUGUST WEISMANN]
AN EXAMINATION
OF
WEISMANNISM
BY
GEORGE JOHN ROMANES
M.A., LL.D., F.R.S.
HONORARY FELLOW OF GONVILLE AND CAIUS COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE
London
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
1893
PREFACE
AS already stated in the Preface to the second edition of _Darwin and
after Darwin_, Part I, severe and protracted illness has hitherto
prevented me from proceeding to the publication of Part II. It is
now more than a year since I had to suspend work of every kind, and
therefore, although at that time Part II was almost ready for press,
I have not yet been able to write its concluding chapters. Shortly
before and during this interval Professor Weismann has produced his
essays on _Am | 294.845725 | 1,419 |
2023-11-16 18:20:41.5930450 | 1,072 | 415 |
Produced by Steven Giacomelli and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images produced by Core Historical Literature
in Agriculture (CHLA), Cornell University)
MYSTERIES
OF
BEE-KEEPING EXPLAINED:
BEING A COMPLETE
ANALYSIS OF THE WHOLE SUBJECT;
CONSISTING OF
THE NATURAL HISTORY OF BEES, DIRECTIONS FOR OBTAINING THE GREATEST
AMOUNT OF PURE SURPLUS HONEY WITH THE LEAST POSSIBLE
EXPENSE, REMEDIES FOR LOSSES GIVEN, AND THE SCIENCE OF
"LUCK" FULLY ILLUSTRATED--THE RESULT OF MORE
THAN TWENTY YEARS' EXPERIENCE IN
EXTENSIVE APIARIES.
BY M. QUINBY,
PRACTICAL BEE-KEEPER.
NEW YORK:
C. M. SAXTON, AGRICULTURAL BOOK PUBLISHER
152 FULTON STREET.
1853.
Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by
M. QUINBY,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States
for the Southern District of New York.
E. O. JENKINS, PRINTER AND STEREOTYPER,
114 NASSAU STREET, N. YORK.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
BRIEF HISTORY.
Three kinds of Bees, 9
Queen described, 9
Description and Duty of Workers, 10
Description of Drones, 11
Most Brood in Spring, 11
Their Industry, 12
CHAPTER II.
HIVES.
Hives to be thoroughly made, 13
Different opinions about them, 14
The Author has no Patent to recommend, 14
Speculators supported long enough, 15
Prefix of Patent a bad recommendation, 15
Ignorance of affairs and committees, 15
Opposition to simplicity, 16
By gaining one point produce another evil, 16
First Delusion, 17
Chamber Hive, 17
Mrs. Griffith's Hive, 18
Weeks' Improvement, 18
Inclined Bottom-Boards do not throw out all the worms, 19
Objections to suspended hives, 19
See bees often, 20
Hall's Patent, 21
Jones's Patent, 21
An Experiment, 21
Reason of failure in dividing hive, 22
Cause of starving in such hives, 23
Advantages of the changeable hive considered, 24
Variation of these hives, 25
Expense in constructing changeable hives, 25
The surplus honey will contain bee-bread, 26
Description of Cutting's changeable hive, 26
First objection cost of construction, 28
Hives can be made with less expense, 29
Old breeding cells will last a long time, 29
Cells larger than necessary at first, 30
Expense of renewing combs, 30
Best to use old combs as long as they will last, 31
Method for Pruning when necessary, 31
Tools for Pruning, 32
Use of Tobacco Smoke, 33
Further objections to a sectional hive, 34
Non-Swarmers, 35
Contrast of profit, 35
Principle of swarming not understood, 36
Not to be depended upon, 37
Hives not always full before swarming, 37
Size of hives needed, 37
An Experiment, 37
Bees do not increase if full after the first year in same hive, 38
Gillmore's system doubted, 39
Utility of moth-proof hives doubted, 39
Instincts of the bee always the same, 40
Profit the object, 41
Common hive recommended, 42
Size Important, 42
Small hives most liable to accidents, 42
Apt to deceive, 43
Unprofitable if too large, 43
Correct size between two extremes, 43
Size for warm latitudes, 44
Larger hives more safe for long Winters or backward Spring, 44
2,000 inches safe for this section, 45
Kind of Wood, width of Board, &c., 46
Shape of little consequence, 46
Directions for making hives, 47
Size of cap and boxes, 48
Miner's Hive, 48
Directions for making holes, 49
A Suggestion, 50
Glass boxes preferred, 51
Glass boxes--how made, 51
Guide-combs necessary, 52
Wood Boxes, | 294.912455 | 1,420 |
2023-11-16 18:20:41.7075220 | 1,136 | 500 |
Produced by David Reed and David Widger
DEMOCRACY IN AMERICA
By Alexis De Tocqueville
Translated by Henry Reeve
Book Two: Influence Of Democracy On Progress Of Opinion In
the United States.
De Tocqueville's Preface To The Second Part
The Americans live in a democratic state of society, which has naturally
suggested to them certain laws and a certain political character. This
same state of society has, moreover, engendered amongst them a
multitude of feelings and opinions which were unknown amongst the elder
aristocratic communities of Europe: it has destroyed or modified all the
relations which before existed, and established others of a novel kind.
The--aspect of civil society has been no less affected by these changes
than that of the political world. The former subject has been treated
of in the work on the Democracy of America, which I published five years
ago; to examine the latter is the object of the present book; but these
two parts complete each other, and form one and the same work.
I must at once warn the reader against an error which would be extremely
prejudicial to me. When he finds that I attribute so many different
consequences to the principle of equality, he may thence infer that I
consider that principle to be the sole cause of all that takes place in
the present age: but this would be to impute to me a very narrow view. A
multitude of opinions, feelings, and propensities are now in existence,
which owe their origin to circumstances unconnected with or even
contrary to the principle of equality. Thus if I were to select the
United States as an example, I could easily prove that the nature of the
country, the origin of its inhabitants, the religion of its founders,
their acquired knowledge, and their former habits, have exercised, and
still exercise, independently of democracy, a vast influence upon the
thoughts and feelings of that people. Different causes, but no less
distinct from the circumstance of the equality of conditions, might be
traced in Europe, and would explain a great portion of the occurrences
taking place amongst us.
I acknowledge the existence of all these different causes, and their
power, but my subject does not lead me to treat of them. I have not
undertaken to unfold the reason of all our inclinations and all our
notions: my only object is to show in what respects the principle of
equality has modified both the former and the latter.
Some readers may perhaps be astonished that--firmly persuaded as I
am that the democratic revolution which we are witnessing is an
irresistible fact against which it would be neither desirable nor wise
to struggle--I should often have had occasion in this book to address
language of such severity to those democratic communities which this
revolution has brought into being. My answer is simply, that it is
because I am not an adversary of democracy, that I have sought to speak
of democracy in all sincerity.
Men will not accept truth at the hands of their enemies, and truth is
seldom offered to them by their friends: for this reason I have spoken
it. I was persuaded that many would take upon themselves to announce the
new blessings which the principle of equality promises to mankind, but
that few would dare to point out from afar the dangers with which
it threatens them. To those perils therefore I have turned my chief
attention, and believing that I had discovered them clearly, I have not
had the cowardice to leave them untold.
I trust that my readers will find in this Second Part that impartiality
which seems to have been remarked in the former work. Placed as I am in
the midst of the conflicting opinions between which we are divided,
I have endeavored to suppress within me for a time the favorable
sympathies or the adverse emotions with which each of them inspires
me. If those who read this book can find a single sentence intended to
flatter any of the great parties which have agitated my country, or any
of those petty factions which now harass and weaken it, let such readers
raise their voices to accuse me.
The subject I have sought to embrace is immense, for it includes the
greater part of the feelings and opinions to which the new state of
society has given birth. Such a subject is doubtless above my strength,
and in treating it I have not succeeded in satisfying myself. But, if
I have not been able to reach the goal which I had in view, my readers
will at least do me the justice to acknowledge that I have conceived and
followed up my undertaking in a spirit not unworthy of success.
A. De T.
March, 1840
Section I: Influence of Democracy on the Action of Intellect in The
United States.
Chapter I: Philosophical Method Among the Americans
I think that in no country in the civilized world is less attention
paid to philosophy than in the United States. The Americans have no
philosophical school of their own; and they care but little for all
the schools into which Europe is divided, the very names of which are
scarcely known to them. Nevertheless it is easy to perceive that almost
all the inhabitants of the United States conduct their understanding in
the same manner, and govern it by the same rules; that is to say,
that without ever having taken the trouble to define the rules of | 295.026932 | 1,421 |
2023-11-16 18:20:42.0772050 | 1,141 | 411 |
Produced by Brian Coe, Moti Ben-Ari and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
SKETCH
OF
THE SIKHS;
A Singular Nation,
WHO INHABIT THE
PROVINCES OF THE PENJAB,
SITUATED BETWEEN
The Rivers Jumna and Indus.
BY
LIEUTENANT-COLONEL MALCOLM,
AUTHOR OF THE POLITICAL SKETCH OF INDIA.
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET,
By James Moyes, Greville Street, Hatton Garden.
1812.
ADVERTISEMENT.
This Sketch has already appeared in the eleventh volume of the Asiatic
Researches: but, as that valuable work is not in common circulation,
it is now republished; and may prove acceptable, as a short and clear
account of an oriental people, of singular religion and manners, with
whose history the European reader can be but little acquainted.
SKETCH OF THE SIKHS.
INTRODUCTION.
When with the British army in the Penjáb, in 1805, I endeavoured to
collect materials that would throw light upon the history, manners, and
religion of the Sikhs. Though this subject had been treated by several
English writers, none of them had possessed opportunities of obtaining
more than very general information regarding this extraordinary race;
and their narratives therefore, though meriting regard, have served
more to excite than to gratify curiosity.
In addition to the information I collected while the army continued
within the territories of the Sikhs, and the personal observations
I was able to make, during that period, upon the customs and manners
of that nation, I succeeded with difficulty in obtaining a copy of
the Adí-Grant'h[1], and of some historical tracts, the most essential
parts of which, when I returned to Calcutta, were explained to me by a
Sikh priest of the Nirmala order, whom I found equally intelligent and
communicative, and who spoke of the religion and ceremonies of his sect
with less restraint than any of his brethren whom I had met with in the
Penjáb. This slender stock of materials was subsequently much enriched
by my friend Dr. Leyden, who has favoured me with a translation of
several tracts written by Sikh authors in the Penjábí and Dúggar
dialects, treating of their history and religion; which, though full
of that warm imagery which marks all oriental works, and particularly
those whose authors enter on the boundless field of Hindú mythology,
contain the most valuable verifications of the different religious
institutions of the Sikh nation.
It was my first intention to have endeavoured to add to these
materials, and to have written, when I had leisure, a history of the
Sikhs; but the active nature of my public duties has made it impossible
to carry this plan into early execution, and I have had the choice of
deferring it to a distant and uncertain period; or of giving, from
what I actually possessed, a short and hasty sketch of their history,
customs, and religion. The latter alternative I have adopted: for,
although the information I may convey in such a sketch may be very
defective, it will be useful at a moment when every information
regarding the Sikhs is of importance; and it may, perhaps, stimulate
and aid some person, who has more leisure and better opportunities, to
accomplish that task which I once contemplated.
In composing this rapid sketch of the Sikhs, I have still had to
encounter various difficulties. There is no part of oriental biography
in which it is more difficult to separate truth from falsehood, than
that which relates to the history of religious impostors. The account
of their lives is generally recorded, either by devoted disciples
and warm adherents, or by violent enemies and bigotted persecutors.
The former, from enthusiastic admiration, decorate them with every
quality and accomplishment that can adorn men: the latter misrepresent
their characters, and detract from all their merits and pretensions.
This general remark I have found to apply with peculiar force to the
varying accounts given, by Sikh and Muhammedan authors, of Nánac and
his successors. As it would have been an endless and unprofitable task
to have entered into a disquisition concerning all the points in which
these authors differ, many considerations have induced me to give a
preference, on almost all occasions, to the original Sikh writers. In
every research into the general history of mankind, it is of the most
essential importance to hear what a nation has to say of itself; and
the knowledge obtained from such sources has a value, independent of
its historical utility. It aids the promotion of social intercourse,
and leads to the establishment of friendship between nations. The
most savage states are those who have most prejudices, and who are
consequently most easily conciliated or offended: they are always
pleased and flattered, when they find, that those whom they cannot
but admit to possess superior intelligence, are acquainted with their
history, and respect their belief and usages: and, on the | 295.396615 | 1,422 |
2023-11-16 18:20:42.5051510 | 1,012 | 416 |
Produced by Larry B. Harrison and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
THE FOOD QUESTION
[Illustration: _Letter from Dr. Ray Lyman Wilbur, president of
Stanford University, and first assistant to Herbert Hoover, in Food
Administration, to the chairman of the Pacific Press Publishing
Committee, after reading the proofs of this book._]
_The_
FOOD QUESTION
Health and Economy
BY EIGHT SPECIALISTS
[Illustration]
"Eat ye that which is good."
"That thou mayest prosper and be in health."
"Eat in due season, for strength, and not for drunkenness."
"Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost."
Copyright 1917 by
Pacific Press Publishing Association
Mountain View, California
Kansas City, Missouri Portland, Oregon Brookfield, Illinois
Calgary, Alberta, Canada Cristobal, Canal Zone
CONTENTS
FRONTISPIECE 2
_Letter from Dr. Ray Lyman Wilbur_
PUBLISHERS' FOREWORD 5
HOOVER AND WHAT HE AND WILSON SAY 6
FOOD ECONOMY 7-15
_By E. A. Sutherland, M. D._
LOAF OF WAR BREAD ON FIELD OF GETTYSBURG 16
FOOD ELEMENTS AND SIMPLICITY OF DIET 17-34
_By E. H. Risley, M. D._
FOOD TABLES--Cereals, Legumes, Fruits, Nuts,
Vegetables, Miscellaneous 23-27
NECESSARY KNOWLEDGE TO CAREFUL PLANNING 34
_Ladies' Home Journal_
VITAMINES AND CALORIES 35-46
_By D. D. Comstock, M. D._
A WORD OF ADVICE TO WOMEN 46
_By Lord Northcliffe_
FRUITS AND THEIR DIETETIC VALUE 47-52
_By George A. Thomason, M. D.,
L. R. C. S., L. R. C. P._
TEN REASONS FOR A FLESHLESS DIET 53-66
_By A. W. Truman, M. D._
PHYSICAL BENEFITS OF JOY 66
_By George A. Thomason, M. D._
STIMULANTS AND CONDIMENTS 67-72
_By Arthur N. Donaldson, M. D._
SIMPLE MENUS AND RECIPES 73-92
_By H. S. Anderson, Food Expert_
THE USE OF LEFT-OVERS 93-96
_By Lavina Baxter-Herzer, M. D._
THE CALL TO YOU 96
_By Dr. Anna Howard Shaw_
Publishers' Foreword
This book was planned before Food Conservation was by the mass
considered seriously. The writers of the various articles are
thoroughly qualified to speak where they have spoken. They are
practical, conscientious, Christian, and have at heart the best in
the needs of humanity. Every one strikes a major chord in the song
of healthful, economical living. The recipes are from the author
of "Food and Cookery," who has had a score of years' experience in
every station and phase of the preparation of food, under French,
English, German, and Spanish chefs. He has been second cook in the
Calumet Club of Chicago, the California Club, Los Angeles, and in many
leading hotels in various cities. For ten years, he has given his best
thought and study to the preparation of the best in food, scientific,
palatable, wholesome, and economic, most of this time in the Sanitarium
and College of Medical Missionaries, Loma Linda, California. Special
attention is called to the valuable tables of Food Elements, and to the
newly demonstrated values of vitamines and the substances which destroy
them.
We are grateful for the kind word spoken by Dr. Ray Lyman Wilbur,
president of Stanford University, and first assistant to Mr. Hoover
in the Federal Food Administration Department; also for the help and
suggestions of Dr. Newton Evans, president of the College of Medical
Evangelists, of Loma Linda, California.
The little book will, we believe, not only meet present needs, but be a
safe counselor in the years to come.
_Hoover | 295.824561 | 1,423 |
2023-11-16 18:20:42.7545860 | 405 | 90 |
Produced by Donal O'Danachair
TARTARIN OF TARASCON
By Alphonse Daudet
EPISODE THE FIRST, IN TARASCON
I. The Garden Round the Giant Trees.
MY first visit to Tartarin of Tarascon has remained a
never-to-be-forgotten date in my life; although quite ten or a dozen
years ago, I remember it better than yesterday.
At that time the intrepid Tartarin lived in the third house on the left
as the town begins, on the Avignon road. A pretty little villa in
the local style, with a front garden and a balcony behind, the walls
glaringly white and the venetians very green; and always about the
doorsteps a brood of little Savoyard shoe-blackguards playing hopscotch,
or dozing in the broad sunshine with their heads pillowed on their
boxes.
Outwardly the dwelling had no remarkable features, and none would ever
believe it the abode of a hero; but when you stepped inside, ye gods and
little fishes! what a change! From turret to foundation-stone--I mean,
from cellar to garret,--the whole building wore a heroic front; even so
the garden!
O that garden of Tartarin's! there's not its match in Europe! Not a
native tree was there--not one flower of France; nothing hut exotic
plants, gum-trees, gourds, cotton-woods, cocoa and cacao, mangoes,
bananas, palms, a baobab, nopals, cacti, Barbary figs--well, you would
believe yourself in the very midst of Central Africa, ten thousand
leagues away. It is but fair to say that these were none of full growth;
indeed, the cocoa-palms were no bigger than beet root and the baobab
(arbos gigante | 296.073996 | 1,424 |
2023-11-16 18:20:43.1211700 | 1,035 | 398 |
Produced by Beginners Projects, Martin Agren and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team
BEHIND A MASK _OR_ A WOMAN'S POWER
By A.M. Barnard
_Chapter I_
JEAN MUIR
"Has she come?"
"No, Mamma, not yet."
"I wish it were well over. The thought of it worries and excites me. A
cushion for my back, Bella."
And poor, peevish Mrs. Coventry sank into an easy chair with a nervous
sigh and the air of a martyr, while her pretty daughter hovered about
her with affectionate solicitude.
"Who are they talking of, Lucia?" asked the languid young man lounging
on a couch near his cousin, who bent over her tapestry work with a happy
smile on her usually haughty face.
"The new governess, Miss Muir. Shall I tell you about her?"
"No, thank you. I have an inveterate aversion to the whole tribe. I've
often thanked heaven that I had but one sister, and she a spoiled child,
so that I have escaped the infliction of a governess so long."
"How will you bear it now?" asked Lucia.
"Leave the house while she is in it."
"No, you won't. You're too lazy, Gerald," called out a younger and more
energetic man, from the recess where he stood teasing his dogs.
"I'll give her a three days' trial; if she proves endurable I shall not
disturb myself; if, as I am sure, she is a bore, I'm off anywhere,
anywhere out of her way."
"I beg you won't talk in that depressing manner, boys. I dread the
coming of a stranger more than you possibly can, but Bella _must_ not be
neglected; so I have nerved myself to endure this woman, and Lucia is
good enough to say she will attend to her after tonight."
"Don't be troubled, Mamma. She is a nice person, I dare say, and when
once we are used to her, I've no doubt we shall be glad to have her,
it's so dull here just now. Lady Sydney said she was a quiet,
accomplished, amiable girl, who needed a home, and would be a help to
poor stupid me, so try to like her for my sake."
"I will, dear, but isn't it getting late? I do hope nothing has
happened. Did you tell them to send a carriage to the station for
her, Gerald?"
"I forgot it. But it's not far, it won't hurt her to walk" was the
languid reply.
"It was indolence, not forgetfulness, I know. I'm very sorry; she will
think it so rude to leave her to find her way so late. Do go and see
to it, Ned."
"Too late, Bella, the train was in some time ago. Give your orders to me
next time. Mother and I'll see that they are obeyed," said Edward.
"Ned is just at an age to make a fool of himself for any girl who
comes in his way. Have a care of the governess, Lucia, or she will
bewitch him."
Gerald spoke in a satirical whisper, but his brother heard him and
answered with a good-humored laugh.
"I wish there was any hope of your making a fool of yourself in that
way, old fellow. Set me a good example, and I promise to follow it. As
for the governess, she is a woman, and should be treated with common
civility. I should say a little extra kindness wouldn't be amiss,
either, because she is poor, and a stranger."
"That is my dear, good-hearted Ned! We'll stand by poor little Muir,
won't we?" And running to her brother, Bella stood on tiptoe to offer
him a kiss which he could not refuse, for the rosy lips were pursed up
invitingly, and the bright eyes full of sisterly affection.
"I do hope she has come, for, when I make an effort to see anyone, I
hate to make it in vain. Punctuality is _such_ a virtue, and I know this
woman hasn't got it, for she promised to be here at seven, and now it is
long after," began Mrs. Coventry, in an injured tone.
Before she could get breath for another complaint, the clock struck
seven and the doorbell rang.
"There she is!" cried Bella, and turned toward the door as if to go and
meet the newcomer.
But Lucia arrested her, saying authoritatively, "Stay here, child. It is
her place to come to you, not yours to go to her."
"Miss Muir," announced a servant, and a little black-ro | 296.44058 | 1,425 |
2023-11-16 18:20:43.3275070 | 1,057 | 439 | THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND***
Transcribed from the 1826 J. Chilcott edition by David Price, email
[email protected]
[Picture: Pamphlet cover]
No. XXXI.
* * * * *
Church of England Tract Society,
Instituted in BRISTOL, 1811.
* * * * *
SHORT REASONS
FOR COMMUNION
_With the Church of England_;
OR,
THE CHURCHMAN’S ANSWER TO THE QUESTION,
“WHY ARE YOU A MEMBER OF THE
ESTABLISHED CHURCH?”
* * * * *
“Endeavouring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of
peace.”—_Ephes._ iv. 3.
“Beseeching Thee to inspire continually the universal Church with the
spirit of truth, unity, and concord; and grant that all they that do
confess Thy holy name, may agree in the truth of Thy holy word, and
live in unity and godly love.”
_Com. Service_.
* * * * *
Sold at the DEPOSITORY, 6, Clare Street, BRISTOL;
And by SEELEY and SON, 169, Fleet Street, LONDON.
_Price_ 1¼_d._ _each_, _or_ 6_s._ 8_d._ _per Hundred_.
[Picture: Hand with finger pointing right] An Allowance to Subscribers
and Booksellers.
* * * * *
J. Chilcott, Printer, 30, Wine Street, Bristol.
1826.
* * * * *
“_O ALMIGHTY God_, _who hast built Thy Church upon the foundation of
the Apostles and Prophets_, _Jesus Christ Himself being the head
corner-stone_; _grant us so to be joined together in unity of spirit
by their doctrine_, _that we may be made a holy temple acceptable
unto Thee_, _through Jesus Christ our Lord_. _Amen_.”
COLLECT
For St. Simon and St. Jude’s Day.
* * * * *
SHORT REASONS FOR COMMUNION WITH THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND, &c.
REASON I.
_I maintain communion with the Church of England_, _not_ MERELY _because
my parents and forefathers were members of her community_.
THE connexion which my parents and forefathers held with the Church of
England I consider to be a sufficient reason why I should continue in
communion with her, if there be nothing contrary to the law of God in
such a connexion. For the fifth commandment peremptorily requires me to
“honour my father and mother;” and, assuredly, this duty implies
reverence to their example, if that example be not inconsistent with the
rule of God’s holy word.
But as a man’s parents and forefathers may have been members of a
communion, a continuance in which would be manifestly contrary to the
word of God (as, for instance, if a man were born of Popish or Socinian
parents;) I therefore say, that “I maintain communion with the Church of
England, not MERELY because my parents and forefathers were members of
her community.”
REASON II.
_I maintain communion with the Church of England_, _not_ MERELY_ because
she is ancient and venerable_.
HER antiquity is a sufficient reason to justify my continuance in her
communion, if it can be shown that nothing materially differing from the
primitive and apostolic Church, in doctrine or discipline, has, in the
long course of her existence, been introduced into her constitution. For
the more ancient any Church can prove to be, the nearer is the approach
to the source of Divine authority and sanction. Now the Church of
England existed long before her corruption by popery; and the labours and
sufferings of her Martyrs in the sixteenth century were employed, not in
planting a new Church, but in correcting gross abuses in one which had
been long established. They are therefore called _Reformers_. The
Church of England, as is highly probable, was planted by St. Paul; and we
know from credible history, that there was a church in Britain during the
apostolic age, and that there were bishops who presided in it soon after
that period.
But as that which is ancient may have been corrupted, antiquity alone
would not fully justify my continuance in any visible Church, though it
strongly enforces the necessity of earnestness and diligence in inquiring
about the reality and nature of the supposed corruption, before I venture
to quit the Church of which I have been made by baptism a member.
REASON III | 296.646917 | 1,426 |
2023-11-16 18:20:43.4277250 | 391 | 90 |
Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
A CRIME OF THE UNDER-SEAS
By GUY BOOTHBY
_Author of "A Bid for Fortune" "Doctor Nikola" "The Beautiful
White Devil" "Pharos, the Egyptian" etc. etc._
ILLUSTRATIONS BY STANLEY L. WOOD
LONDON
WARD LOCK & CO LIMITED
1905
[Illustration: "Dropped him again with a cry that echoed in my helmet."]
CONTENTS
A CRIME OF THE UNDER-SEAS
THE PHANTOM STOCKMAN
THE TREASURE OF SACRAMENTO NICK
INTO THE OUTER DARKNESS
THE STORY OF TOMMY DODD AND "THE ROOSTER"
QUOD ERAT DEMONSTRANDUM
CUPID AND PSYCHE
MISPLACED AFFECTIONS
IN GREAT WATERS
MR. ARISTOCRAT
THIS MAN AND THIS WOMAN
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"DROPPED HIM AGAIN WITH A CRY THAT ECHOED IN MY HELMET."
"I SPRANG TO MY FEET ON HEARING THIS. 'NOT THE FIRST!' I CRIED."
"A NATIVE FRUIT-HAWKER CAME ROUND THE CORNER."
"THEN, JUST AS HER NOSE GROUNDED, MY EYES CAUGHT SIGHT OF A BIG
CREEPER-COVERED MASS."
"ONE MOONLIGHT NIGHT... SOMEBODY STEPPED UP BESIDE HIM."
A Crime of the Under-Seas
CHAPTER I
There is an old saying that "one half of the world does not know | 296.747135 | 1,427 |
2023-11-16 18:20:43.4727490 | 1,094 | 376 |
Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images available at The Internet Archive)
[Illustration: Copyright 1903 by G. Barrie & Sons]
RAYMOND SURPRISES DORSAN AND NICETTE
_I was determined that he should not, at all events, have time to
scrutinize the girl; I fumbled hastily in my pocket for my key, but
it was entangled in my handkerchief._
NOVELS
BY
Paul de Kock
VOLUME XI
MY NEIGHBOR RAYMOND
PRINTED BY ARRANGEMENT WITH
[Illustration]
GEORGE BARRIE'S SONS
THE JEFFERSON PRESS
BOSTON NEW YORK
_Copyrighted, 1903-1904, by G. B. & Sons._
MY NEIGHBOR RAYMOND
I
THE GRISETTE
I was strolling along the boulevards one Saturday evening. I was alone,
and in a meditative mood; contrary to my usual custom, I was indulging
in some rather serious reflections on the world and its people, on the
past and the present, on the mind and the body, on the soul, on thought,
chance, fate, and destiny. I believe, indeed, that I was on the point of
turning my attention to the moon, which was just appearing, and in which
I already saw mountains, lakes, and forests,--for with a little
determination one may see in the moon whatever one pleases,--when, as I
was gazing at the sky, I suddenly collided with a person going in the
opposite direction, whom I had not previously noticed.
"Look where you're going, monsieur; you're very awkward!" at once
remarked a soft, sweet voice, which not even anger deprived of its
charm. I have always had a weakness for pleasant voices; so I instantly
descended from the regions to which I had mounted only for lack of
something better to do, and looked at the person who had addressed me.
It was a girl of sixteen to eighteen years, with a little cap tied under
her chin, a calico dress, and a modest apron of black mohair. She had
every appearance of a young workgirl who had just finished her day's
work and was on her way home. I made haste to look at her face: a
charming face, on my word! Bright, mischievous eyes, a tiny nose, fine
teeth, black hair, and a most attractive ensemble; an expressive face,
too, and a certain charming grace in her bearing. I was forced to
confess that I saw no such pretty things in the moon.
The girl had under her arm a pasteboard box, which I had unwittingly
jostled; she refastened the string with which it was tied, and seemed to
apprehend that the contents had suffered from my awkwardness. I lost no
time in apologizing.
"Really, mademoiselle, I am terribly distressed--it was very awkward of
me."
"It is certain, monsieur, that if you had looked in front of you this
wouldn't have happened."
"I trust that I have not hurt you?"
"Me? oh, no! But I'm afraid that my flowers are crumpled; however, I
will fix them all right at home."
"Ah!" said I to myself; "she's a flowermaker; as a general rule, the
young ladies who follow that trade are not Lucretias; let us see if I
cannot scrape acquaintance with her."
She replaced her box under her arm, and went her way. I walked by her
side, saying nothing at first. I have always been rather stupid about
beginning gallant interviews; luckily, when one has once made a start,
the thing goes of itself. However, from time to time I ventured a word
or two:
"Mademoiselle walks very fast. Won't you take my arm? I should be
delighted to escort you. May I not be permitted to see you again? Do you
go to the theatre often? I could send you tickets, if you chose. Pray
be careful; you will surely slip!" and other polite phrases of that
sort, the conventional thing in nocturnal meetings.
To all this I obtained no reply save:
"Yes, monsieur;" "no, monsieur;" "leave me, I beg you!" "you are wasting
your time;" "don't follow me."
Sometimes she made no reply at all, but tossed her head impatiently, and
crossed to the other side of the boulevard. But I crossed in her wake;
and after a few moments of silence, I risked another remark, giving to
my voice the most tender and sentimental inflection conceivable.
But I began to realize that my chance acquaintance was shyer than I had
at first supposed, and that I might very well have nothing to show for
my long walk, my little speeches, and my sid | 296.792159 | 1,428 |
2023-11-16 18:20:43.5682400 | 1,050 | 438 |
Produced by Colin Bell, Roberta Staehlin, Joseph Cooper
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net
FREEDOM
IN
SCIENCE AND TEACHING.
FROM THE GERMAN OF
ERNST HAECKEL.
_WITH A PREFATORY NOTE_
By T. H. HUXLEY, F.R.S.
DER TELEOLOG
"Welche Verehrung verdient der Weltenschoepfer der gnaedig.
Als er den Korkbaum schuf, gleich auch die Stoepfel erfand."
XENIEN.
NEW YORK:
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,
549 AND 551 BROADWAY.
1879.
PREFATORY NOTE.
In complying with the wish of the publishers of Professor Haeckel's
reply to Professor Virchow, that I should furnish a prefatory note
expressing my own opinion in respect of the subject-matter of the
controversy, Gay's homely lines, prophetic of the fate of those "who
in quarrels interpose," emerge from some brain-cupboard in which they
have been hidden since my childish days. In fact, the hard-hitting
with which both the attack and the defence abound, makes me think with
a shudder upon the probable sufferings of the unhappy man whose
intervention should lead two such gladiators to turn their weapons
from one another upon him. In my youth, I once attempted to stop a
street fight, and I have never forgotten the brief but impressive
lesson on the value of the policy of non-intervention which I then
received.
But there is, happily, no need for me to place myself in a position
which, besides being fraught with danger, would savour of presumption:
Careful study of both the attack and the reply leaves me without the
inclination to become either a partisan or a peacemaker: not a
partisan, for there is a great deal with which I fully agree said on
both sides; not a peacemaker, because I think it is highly desirable
that the important questions which underlie the discussion, apart from
the more personal phases of the dispute, should be thoroughly
discussed. And if it were possible to have controversy without
bitterness in human affairs, I should be disposed, for the general
good, to use to both of the eminent antagonists the famous phrase of a
late President of the French Chamber--"_Tape dessus._"
No profound acquaintance with the history of science is needed to
produce the conviction, that the advancement of natural knowledge has
been effected by the successive or concurrent efforts of men, whose
minds are characterised by tendencies so opposite that they are forced
into conflict with one another. The one intellect is imaginative and
synthetic; its chief aim is to arrive at a broad and coherent
conception of the relations of phenomena; the other is positive,
critical, analytic, and sets the highest value upon the exact
determination and statement of the phenomena themselves.
If the man of the critical school takes the pithy aphorism "Melius
autem est naturam secare quam abstrahere"[1] for his motto, the
champion of free speculation may retort with another from the same
hand, "Citius enim emergit veritas e falsitate quam e confusione;"[2]
and each may adduce abundant historical proof that his method has
contributed as much to the progress of knowledge as that of his rival.
Every science has been largely indebted to bold, nay, even to wild
hypotheses, for the power of ordering and grasping the endless details
of natural fact which they confer; for the moral stimulus which arises
out of the desire to confirm or to confute them; and last, but not
least, for the suggestion of paths of fruitful inquiry, which, without
them, would never have been followed. From the days of Columbus and
Kepler to those of Oken, Lamarck, and Boucher de Perthes, Saul, who,
seeking his father's asses, found a kingdom, is the prototype of many
a renowned discoverer who has lighted upon verities while following
illusions, which, had they deluded lesser men, might possibly have
been considered more or less asinine.
On the other hand, there is no branch of science which does not owe at
least an equal obligation to those cool heads, which are not to be
seduced into the acceptance of symmetrical formulae and bold
generalisations for solid truths because of their brilliancy and
grandeur; to the men who cannot overlook those small exceptions and
insignificant residual phenomena which, when tracked to their causes,
are so often the death of brilliant hypotheses; to the men, finally,
who, by demonstrating the limits to human knowledge which are set by
the very conditions of thought, have | 296.88765 | 1,429 |
2023-11-16 18:20:43.6674270 | 1,148 | 614 |
Produced by David Edwards, Paul Clark and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
Transcriber's Note:
Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as
possible, including inconsistencies in spelling and hyphenation.
Italic text has been marked with _underscores_.
Bold text has been marked with =equals signs=.
[Illustration: cover]
Number One.
MY MOTHER'S GOLD RING.
FOUNDED ON FACT.
Eighth Edition.
Boston:
PUBLISHED BY FORD AND DAMRELL.
1833.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1833, by
FORD AND DAMRELL,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts.
TO THE READER.
This is the first of a series of stories, of which it possibly may be
the beginning and the end. The incident, which is the foundation of the
following tale, was communicated to the writer, by a valued friend, as a
fact, with the name of the principal character. Another friend, to whom
the manuscript was given, perceiving some advantage in its publication,
has thought proper to give it to the world, as Number One; from which I
infer, that I am expected to write a Number Two. The hint may be worth
taking, at some leisure moment. In the mean time, pray read Number One:
it can do you no harm: there is nothing "_sectarian_" about it. When you
have read it, if, among all your connexions and friends, you can think
of none, whom its perusal may possibly benefit--and it will be strange
if you cannot--do me the favor to present it to the first little boy
that you meet. He will, no doubt, take it home to his mother or his
father. If you will not do this, throw it in the street, as near to some
dram-seller's door, as you ever venture to go: let it take the course of
the flying seed, which God is pleased to entrust to the keeping of the
winds: it may yet spring up and bear fruit, if such be the will of Him,
who giveth the increase.
THE GOLD RING.
I have one of the kindest husbands: he is a carpenter by trade, and our
flock of little children has one of the kindest fathers in the county. I
was thought the luckiest girl in the parish, when G---- T---- made me
his wife: I thought so myself. Our wedding-day--and it was a happy
one--was but an indifferent sample of those days of rational happiness
and uninterrupted harmony, which we were permitted to enjoy together,
for the space of six years. And although, for the last three years of
our lives, we have been as happy as we were at the beginning, it makes
my heart sick to think of those long dark days and sad nights, that came
between; for, two years of our union were years of misery. I well
recollect the first glass of ardent spirit that my husband ever drank.
He had been at the grocery to purchase a little tea and sugar for the
family; there were three cents coming to him in change; and, unluckily,
the Deacon, who keeps the shop, had nothing but silver in the till; and,
as it was a sharp, frosty morning, he persuaded my good man to take his
money's worth of rum, for it was just the price of a glass. He came home
in wonderful spirits, and told me he meant to have me and the children
better dressed, and, as neighbor Barton talked of selling his horse and
chaise, he thought of buying them both; and, when I said to him,
"George, we are dressed as well as we can afford, and I hope you will
not think of a horse and chaise, till we have paid off the Squire's
mortgage," he gave me a harsh look and a bitter word. I never shall
forget that day, for they were the first he ever gave me in his life.
When he saw me shedding tears, and holding my apron to my face, he said
he was sorry, and came to kiss me, and I discovered that he had been
drinking, and it grieved me to the heart. In a short time after, while I
was washing up the breakfast things, I heard our little Robert, who was
only five years old, crying bitterly; and, going to learn the cause, I
met him running towards me with his face covered with blood.
He said his father had taken him on his knee, and was playing with him,
but had given him a blow in the face, only because he had said, when he
kissed him, "dear papa, you smell like old Isaac, the drunken fiddler."
My husband was very cross to us all through the whole of that day; but
the next morning, though he said little, he was evidently ashamed and
humbled; and he went about his work very industriously, and was
particularly kind to little Robert. I prayed constantly for my good man,
and that God would be pleased to guide his heart aright; and, | 296.986837 | 1,430 |
2023-11-16 18:20:43.9790860 | 1,142 | 361 | ***The Project Gutenberg's Etext of Shakespeare's First Folio***
****************The first Part of Henry the Sixt****************
This is our 3rd edition of most of these plays. See the index.
Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check
the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!!
Please take a look at the important information in this header.
We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an
electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this.
**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations*
Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and
further information is included below. We need your donations.
The first Part of Henry the Sixt
by William Shakespeare
July, 2000 [Etext #2254]
***The Project Gutenberg's Etext of Shakespeare's First Folio***
****************The first Part of Henry the Sixt****************
*****This file should be named 2254.txt or 2254.zip******
Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions,
all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a
copyright notice is included. Therefore, we usually do NOT keep any
of these books in compliance with any particular paper edition.
We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance
of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till
midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at
Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A
preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
and editing by those who wish to do so. To be sure you have an
up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes
in the first week of the next month. Since our ftp program has
a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a
look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a
new copy has at least one byte more or less.
Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The
time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This
projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value
per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-six text
files per month, or 432 more Etexts in 1999 for a total of 2000+
If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the
total should reach over 200 billion Etexts given away this year.
The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext
Files by December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000 = 1 Trillion]
This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
which is only ~5% of the present number of computer users.
At our revised rates of production, we will reach only one-third
of that goal by the end of 2001, or about 3,333 Etexts unless we
manage to get some real funding; currently our funding is mostly
from Michael Hart's salary at Carnegie-Mellon University, and an
assortment of sporadic gifts; this salary is only good for a few
more years, so we are looking for something to replace it, as we
don't want Project Gutenberg to be so dependent on one person.
We need your donations more than ever!
All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and are
tax deductible to the extent allowable by law. (CMU = Carnegie-
Mellon University).
For these and other matters, please mail to:
Project Gutenberg
P. O. Box 2782
Champaign, IL 61825
When all other email fails...try our Executive Director:
Michael S. Hart <[email protected]>
[email protected] forwards to [email protected] and archive.org
if your mail bounces from archive.org, I will still see it, if
it bounces from prairienet.org, better resend later on....
We would prefer to send you this information by email.
******
To access Project Gutenberg etexts, use any Web browser
to view http://promo.net/pg. This site lists Etexts by
author and by title, and includes information about how
to get involved with Project Gutenberg. You could also
download our past Newsletters, or subscribe here. This
is one of our major sites, please email [email protected],
for a more complete list of our various sites.
To go directly to the etext collections, use FTP or any
Web browser to visit a Project Gutenberg mirror (mirror
sites are available on 7 continents; mirrors are listed
at http://promo.net/pg).
Mac users, do NOT | 297.298496 | 1,431 |
2023-11-16 18:20:44.2751960 | 1,106 | 434 |
Produced by Emmanuel Ackerman and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
A QUEEN OF TEARS
_BY THE SAME AUTHOR._
THE LOVE OF
AN UNCROWNED QUEEN:
SOPHIE DOROTHEA, CONSORT OF GEORGE I.,
AND HER CORRESPONDENCE WITH PHILIP
CHRISTOPHER, COUNT KONIGSMARCK.
NEW AND REVISED EDITION.
_With 24 Portraits and Illustrations._
_8vo., 12s. 6d. net._
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.,
LONDON, NEW YORK AND BOMBAY.
[Illustration:
_Queen Matilda in the uniform of Colonel of the Holstein Regiment of
Guards._
_After the painting by Als, 1770._]
A QUEEN OF TEARS
CAROLINE MATILDA, QUEEN OF
DENMARK AND NORWAY AND
PRINCESS OF GREAT BRITAIN
AND IRELAND
BY
W. H. WILKINS
_M.A._, _F.S.A._
_Author of "The Love of an Uncrowned Queen," and
"Caroline the Illustrious, Queen Consort of George II."_
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. II.
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
NEW YORK AND BOMBAY
1904
CONTENTS
PAGE
CONTENTS v
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS vii
CHAPTER I.
THE TURN OF THE TIDE 1
CHAPTER II.
THE GATHERING STORM 23
CHAPTER III.
THE MASKED BALL 45
CHAPTER IV.
THE PALACE REVOLUTION 63
CHAPTER V.
THE TRIUMPH OF THE QUEEN-DOWAGER 88
CHAPTER VI.
"A DAUGHTER OF ENGLAND" 110
CHAPTER VII.
THE IMPRISONED QUEEN 129
CHAPTER VIII.
THE DIVORCE OF THE QUEEN 149
CHAPTER IX.
THE TRIALS OF STRUENSEE AND BRANDT 177
CHAPTER X.
THE EXECUTIONS 196
CHAPTER XI.
THE RELEASE OF THE QUEEN 216
CHAPTER XII.
REFUGE AT CELLE 239
CHAPTER XIII.
THE RESTORATION PLOT 268
CHAPTER XIV.
THE DEATH OF THE QUEEN 295
CHAPTER XV.
RETRIBUTION 315
APPENDIX.
LIST OF AUTHORITIES 327
INDEX 331
CATALOG
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
QUEEN MATILDA IN THE UNIFORM OF COLONEL OF THE
HOLSTEIN REGIMENT OF GUARDS. (_Photogravure._)
_From a Painting by Als, 1770_ _Frontispiece_
THE ROSENBORG CASTLE, COPENHAGEN _Facing page_ 6
STRUENSEE. _From the Painting by Jens Juel, 1771, now
in the possession of Count Bille-Brahe_ " " 20
ENEVOLD BRANDT. _From a Miniature at Frederiksborg_ " " 38
QUEEN JULIANA MARIA, STEP-MOTHER OF CHRISTIAN VII.
_From the Painting by Clemens_ " " 54
KING CHRISTIAN VII.'S NOTE TO QUEEN MATILDA INFORMING
HER OF HER ARREST " " 74
THE ROOM IN WHICH QUEEN MATILDA WAS IMPRISONED
AT KRONBORG _Page_ 85
COUNT BERNSTORFF _Facing page_ 96
FREDERICK, HEREDITARY PRINCE OF DENMARK, STEP-BROTHER
OF CHRISTIAN VII. " " 108
THE COURTYARD OF THE CASTLE AT KRONBORG. _From
an Engraving_ " " 130
RÖSKILDE CATHEDRAL, WHERE THE KINGS AND QUEENS
OF DENMARK ARE BURIED " " 150
THE GREAT COURT OF FREDERIKSBORG PALACE. _From
a Painting by Heinrich Hansen_ " " 172
THE DOCKS, COPENHAGEN, _TEMP. 1770_ " " 184
THE MARKET PLACE AND TOWN HALL, COPENHAGEN,
_TEMP. 1770_ " " 184
STRUENSEE IN HIS DUNGEON. _From a Contemporary Print_ " " 198
SIR ROBERT MURRAY KEITH, K.C.B | 297.594606 | 1,432 |
2023-11-16 18:20:44.4960880 | 2,492 | 39 |
Produced by James Rusk
LOVE ME LITTLE, LOVE ME LONG
By Charles Reade
PREFACE
SHOULD these characters, imbedded in carpet incidents, interest the
public at all, they will probably reappear in more potent scenes. This
design, which I may never live to execute, is, I fear, the only excuse
I can at present offer for some pages, forming the twelfth chapter of
this volume.
CHAPTER I.
NEARLY a quarter of a century ago, Lucy Fountain, a young lady of
beauty and distinction, was, by the death of her mother, her sole
surviving parent, left in the hands of her two trustees, Edward
Fountain, Esq., of Font Abbey, and Mr. Bazalgette, a merchant whose
wife was Mrs. Fountain's half-sister.
They agreed to lighten the burden by dividing it. She should spend
half the year with each trustee in turn, until marriage should take
her off their hands.
Our mild tale begins in Mr. Bazalgette's own house, two years after
the date of that arrangement.
The chit-chat must be your main clue to the characters. In life it is
the same. Men and women won't come to you ticketed, or explanation in
hand.
"Lucy, you are a great comfort in a house; it is so nice to have some
one to pour out one's heart to; my husband is no use at all."
"Aunt Bazalgette!"
"In that way. You listen to my faded illusions, to the aspirations of
a nature too finely organized, ah! to find its happiness in this
rough, selfish world. When I open my bosom to him, what does he do?
Guess now--whistles."
"Then I call that rude."
"So do I; and then he whistles more and more."
"Yes; but, aunt, if any serious trouble or grief fell upon you, you
would find Mr. Bazalgette a much greater comfort and a better stay
than poor spiritless me."
"Oh, if the house took fire and fell about our ears, he would come out
of his shell, no doubt; or if the children all died one after another,
poor dear little souls; but those great troubles only come in stories.
Give me a friend that can sympathize with the real hourly
mortifications of a too susceptible nature; sit on this ottoman, and
let me go on. Where was I when Jones came and interrupted us? They
always do just at the interesting point."
Miss Fountain's face promptly wreathed itself into an expectant smile.
She abandoned her hand and her ear, and leaned her graceful person
toward her aunt, while that lady murmured to her in low and thrilling
tones--his eyes, his long hair, his imaginative expressions, his
romantic projects of frugal love; how her harsh papa had warned Adonis
off the premises; how Adonis went without a word (as pale as death,
love), and soon after, in his despair, flung himself--to an ugly
heiress; and how this disappointment had darkened her whole life, and
so on.
Perhaps, if Adonis had stood before her now, rolling his eyes, and his
phrases hot from the annuals, the flourishing matron might have sent
him to the servants' hall with a wave of her white and jeweled hand.
But the melody disarms this sort of brutal criticism--a woman's voice
relating love's young dream; and then the picture--a matron still
handsome pouring into a lovely virgin's ear the last thing she ought;
the young beauty's eyes mimicking sympathy; the ripe beauty's soft,
delicious accents--purr! purr! purr!
Crash overhead! a window smashed aie! aie! clatter! clatter! screams
of infantine rage and feminine remonstrance, feet pattering, and a
general hullabaloo, cut the soft recital in two. The ladies clasped
hands, like guilty things surprised.
Lucy sprang to her feet; the oppressed one sank slowly and gracefully
back, inch by inch, on the ottoman, with a sigh of ostentatious
resignation, and gazed, martyr-like, on the chandelier.
"Will you not go up to the nursery?" cried Lucy, in a flutter.
"No, dear," replied the other, faintly, but as cool as a marble slab;
"you go; cast some of your oil upon those ever-troubled waters and
then come back and let us try once more."
Miss Fountain heard but half this sentence; she was already gliding up
the stairs. She opened the nursery door, and there stood in the middle
of the room "Original Sin." Its name after the flesh was Master
Reginald. It was half-past six, had been baptized in church, after
which every child becomes, according to polemic divines of the day, "a
little soul of Christian fire" until it goes to a public school. And
there it straddled, two scarlet cheeks puffed out with rage, soft
flaxen hair streaming, cerulean eyes glowing, the poker grasped in two
chubby fists. It had poked a window in vague ire, and now threatened
two females with extinction if they riled it any more.
The two grown-up women were discovered, erect, but flat, in distant
corners, avoiding the bayonet and trusting to their artillery.
"Wicked boy!"
"Naughty boy!" (grape.)
"Little ruffian!" etc.
And hints as to the ultimate destination of so sanguinary a soul
(round shot).
"Ah! here's miss. Oh, miss, we are so glad you are come up; don't go
anigh him, miss; he is a tiger."
Miss Fountain smiled, and went gracefully on one knee beside him. This
brought her angelic face level with the fallen cherub's. "What is the
matter, dear?" asked she, in a tone of soft pity.
The tiger was not prepared for this: he dropped his poker and flung
his little arm round his cousin's neck.
"I love YOU. Oh! oh! oh!"
"Yes, dear; then tell me, now--what is the matter? What have you been
doing?"
"Noth--noth--nothing--it's th--them been na--a--agging me!"
"Nagging you?" and she smiled at the word and a tiger's horror of it.
"Who has been nagging you, love?"
"Th--those--bit--bit--it." The word was unfortunately lost in a sob.
It was followed by red faces and two simultaneous yells of
remonstrance and objurgation.
"I must ask you to be silent a minute," said Miss Fountain, quietly.
"Reginald, what do you mean by--by--nagging?"
Reginald explained. "By nagging he meant--why--nagging."
"Well, then, what had they been doing to him?"
No; poor Reginald was not analytical, dialectical and critical, like
certain pedanticules who figure in story as children. He was a
terrible infant, not a horrible one.
"They won't fight and they won't make it up, and they keep nagging,"
was all could be got out of him.
"Come with me, dear," said Lucy, gravely.
"Yes," assented the tiger, softly, and went out awestruck, holding her
hand, and paddling three steps to each of her serpentine glides.
Seated in her own room, tiger at knee, she tried topics of admonition.
During these his eyes wandered about the room in search of matter more
amusing, so she was obliged to bring up her reserve.
"And no young lady will ever marry you."
"I don't want them to, cousin; I wouldn't let them; you will marry me,
because you promised."
"Did I?"
"Why, you know you did--upon your honor; and no lady or gentleman ever
breaks their word when they say that; you told me so yourself," added
he of the inconvenient memory.
"Ah! but there is another rule that I forgot to tell you."
"What is that?"
"That no lady ever marries a gentleman who has a violent temper."
"Oh, don't they?"
"No; they would be afraid. If you had a wife, and took up the poker,
she would faint away, and die--perhaps!"
"Oh, dear!"
"I should."
"But, cousin, you would not _want_ the poker taken to you; you
never nag."
"Perhaps that is because we are not married yet."
"What, then, when we are, shall you turn like the others?"
"Impossible to say."
"Well, then" (after a moment's hesitation), "I'll marry you all the
same."
"No! you forget; I shall be afraid until your temper mends."
"I'll mend it. It is mended now. See how good I am now," added he,
with self-admiration and a shade of surprise.
"I don't call this mending it, for I am not the one that offended you;
mending it is promising me never, never to call naughty names again.
How would you like to be called a dog?"
"I'd kill 'em."
"There, you see--then how can you expect poor nurse to like it?"
"You don't understand, cousin--Tom said to George the groom that Mrs.
Jones was an--old--stingy--b--"
"I don't want to hear anything about Tom."
"He is such a clever fellow, cousin. So I think, if Jones is an old
one, those two that keep nagging me must be young ones. What do you
think yourself?" asked Reginald, appealing suddenly to her candor.
"And no doubt it was Tom that taught you this other vulgar word
'nagging,'" was the evasive reply.
"No, that was mamma."
Lucy, wheeled quickly, and demanded severely of the terrible
infant: "Who is this Tom?"
"What! don't you know Tom?" Reginald began to lose a grain of his
respect for her. "Why, he helps in the stables; oh, cousin, he is such
a nice fellow!"
"Reginald, I shall never marry you if you keep company with grooms,
and speak their language."
"Well!" sighed the victim, "I'll give up Tom sooner than you."
"Thank you, dear; now I _am_ flattered. One struggle more; we
must go together and ask the nurses' pardon."
"Must we? ugh!"
"Yes--and kiss them--and make it up."
Reginald made a wry face; but, after a pause of solemn reflection, he
consented, on condition that Lucy would keep near him, and kiss him
directly afterward.
"I shall be sure to do that, because you will be a good boy then."
Outside the door Reginald paused: "I have a favor to ask you,
cousin--a great favor. You see I am so very little, and you are so
big; now the husband ought to be the biggest."
"Quite my own opinion, Reggy."
"Well, dear, now if you would be so kind as not to grow any older till
I catch you up, I shall be so very, very, very much obliged to you,
dear."
"I will try, Reggy. Nineteen is a very good age. I will stay there as
long as my friends will let me."
"Thank you, cousin."
"But that is not | 297.815498 | 1,433 |
2023-11-16 18:20:44.6185650 | 1,226 | 407 |
Produced by Greg Bergquist and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
[Illustration: Caleb Huse]
DEAR SIR:--
In the Summer of 1903, two friends of Major Huse were hospitably
entertained by him at his charming home, "The Rocks," on the Hudson,
just south of West Point, and, during their visit, were greatly
interested in listening to his recital of some of his experiences as
agent in Europe for purchasing army supplies for the Confederate States
during the Civil war.
I was so impressed by this unique bit of history that I succeeded, after
much urging, in inducing him to write it, believing that it should be
preserved, and knowing that no one else could furnish it.
His four years' experience would, if fully told, fill a large volume,
but this brief recital is all that can be hoped for.
I am sending you herewith a copy of this pamphlet. If you wish to keep
it, please send 25 cents in enclosed coin card. If you do not want it,
please return it flat by pasting the enclosed stamped and addressed
envelope on the enclosing envelope.
Yours truly,
J. S. ROGERS.
Room 118, Barristers Hall,
15 Pemberton Square,
Boston, Mass.
THE SUPPLIES
FOR THE
CONFEDERATE ARMY
HOW THEY WERE OBTAINED IN EUROPE
AND HOW PAID FOR
PERSONAL REMINISCENCES AND
UNPUBLISHED HISTORY
BY
CALEB HUSE
MAJOR AND PURCHASING AGENT, C. S. A.
BOSTON
PRESS OF T. R. MARVIN & SON
1904
BY JAMES S. ROGERS
BOSTON, MASS.
In the Summer of 1903, two friends of Major Huse were hospitably
entertained by him at his charming home, "The Rocks," on the Hudson,
just south of West Point, and, during their visit, were greatly
interested in listening to his recital of some of his experiences as
agent in Europe for purchasing army supplies for the Confederate States
during the Civil war.
So impressed were they by this unique bit of history that they
succeeded, after much urging, in inducing him to write it, believing
that it should be preserved, and knowing that no one else could furnish
it.
His four years' experience would, if fully told, fill a large volume,
but this brief recital is all that can be hoped for.
If the cost of publication is not met by the nominal price charged for
this pamphlet, the satisfaction of preserving the record in print will
compensate for any loss sustained by the
TWO FRIENDS.
_August, 1904._
REMINISCENCES
On my return in May, 1860, from a six months' leave of absence spent in
Europe, I found an appointment as professor of chemistry and commandant
of cadets in the University of Alabama awaiting my acceptance. During my
absence the President of the University and a committee of the Board of
Trustees visited West Point and the Virginia Military Institute and,
pleased with the discipline of both institutions, decided to adopt the
military system, and applied to Colonel Delafield, then the
Superintendent at West Point, for an officer to start them. Col.
Delafield gave them my name but was unable to say whether or not I would
resign from the army. I was then a first lieutenant of artillery; and,
as such, was on the rolls of the garrison of Fort Sumter.
I accepted the position and began my duties in September. My leave of
absence had expired in May; but the authorities of the University,
fearing that I might regret severing irrevocably my connection with the
army--which I had entered as a cadet at sixteen--obtained from the
Secretary of War an extension of the leave till May, 1861, when I was to
resign if all was satisfactory at that time.
It is proper to mention here that the introduction of military drill and
discipline at the State University had no connection whatever with any
secession movement in Alabama, and the fact that a Massachusetts-born
man and of Puritan descent was selected to inaugurate the system, will,
or ought to be, accepted as confirmatory of this assertion.
Discipline was almost at an end at the University, and in seeking ways
and means for restoring it, the attention of the Faculty and Trustees
was directed to the Virginia Military Institute which had been in
successful operation for about fifty years. As this institution had been
organized by a graduate of West Point, and in some respects resembled
the United States Military Academy, it was hoped that in Alabama good
results might be secured by the adoption of similar methods.
Military drill is taught at the present time in many schools and
colleges, but the intention of the Alabama University authorities was
not merely to drill students, but to hold them under military restraint,
as is effectually done at West Point, and, I may add, as cannot be done
in any college designed to qualify young men to become civilian members
of a great republic.
West Point and Annapolis have proved themselves noble institutions for
the purpose for which they were designed--that of training young men to
become officers over other men--but the mission of these schools is not
to fit young men for civil life. Their methods cannot be grafted upon
literary or technical civil institutions, and it is not desirable that
they should be applied to civil colleges or schools of any kind. But the | 297.937975 | 1,434 |
2023-11-16 18:20:44.6204220 | 958 | 554 |
Produced by Steven Gibbs, Keith Edkins and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's note: The errata listed at the end of the work have been
corrected where they occur in the text.
* * * * *
A NEW
CATALOGUE
OF
VULGAR ERRORS.
BY
STEPHEN FOVARGUE, A.M.
FELLOW OF ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.
* * * * *
In many Cases one with Amazement hears the Arguings, and is astonished
at the Obstinacy, of a worthy Man, who yields not to the Evidence of
Reason, tho' laid before him as clear as Day-light. LOCKE.
_Sunt delicta tamen, quibus ignovisse velimus._ HOR.
* * * * *
_CAMBRIDGE_,
Printed for the AUTHOR:
Sold by FLETCHER & HODSON in Cambridge; S. CROWDER in Pater-noster-Row,
J. DODSLEY in Pall-Mall, M. HINGESTON near Temple-Bar, and G. KEARSLY
in Ludgate-street, London; J. FLETCHER at Oxford; and the Booksellers
at Norwich, Lynn, York, and Newcastle. 1767.
(Price HALF A CROWN.)
* * * * *
PREFACE.
To explain the Use of Education, no Method can be more effectual, than to
shew what dull Mistakes and silly Notions Men are apt to be led into for
Want of it. These Mistakes are so numerous, that if we were to undertake to
divulge all the Errors that Men of no Knowledge in the Sciences labour
under, the shortest Way would be to publish a compleat System of Natural
Philosophy, which Learning, as it may be acquired by reading the different
Books, which have already been wrote upon that Subject, in this Aera of the
Sciences, such an Undertaking would be quite needless at this Time, even
supposing the Author capable of that laborious Work.
If the following Sheets do but serve to divest Men of some of those
unreasonable Obstinacies with which they and their Forefathers have long
been prepossessed, the Time will be well laid out, both of the Writer and
Reader.
Be not affronted, gentle Reader, at my taxing thee with Error, with
Obstinacy, or the like; thou mayest not be one of that Stamp; for any Thing
I know you may have studied the Sciences, you may be well versed in
Mechanics, Optics, Hydrostatics, and Astronomy; you may have made the Tour
of Europe, if not, you may soon do it in Post-Chaises, and be almost as
wise as you was when you went out; or you may be one of those whom
bountiful Nature has blessed with a most excellent Understanding, a quick
Apprehension, and a discerning Judgment, and yet not have been so
fortunate, or unfortunate, which you think proper to term it, as to have
been brought up a Scholar.
Scoff not when we dwell so much upon Scholarship; for I would have thee
know, whether thou thinkest proper to believe me or not, that had it not
been for the four Branches of Learning abovementioned, thou wouldest not
have been smoaking that Pipe of right Virginia, which in all Probability
(whether thou art a Farmer in the Country, or a Mechanic in London) thou
art now most pompously blowing to Ashes: Neither would that charming Bowl
of Rum and Brandy Punch mixed, have waited at thy Elbow to inspire thee
with generous Sentiments (which Punch, let me tell thee, if thou drinkest
in Moderation, may keep thee from the Ague, if thou livest in the Hundreds
of Essex.)--Nay, thou wouldest not even have known what it was to have
tasted a Plumb-Pudding, which, tho' now, thy Palate being vitiated with
salt Pork and Mustard, and bottled Beer, thou hast no Relish for, yet thou
mayest remember the Time when thou didst think it most delicious Food. To
Philosophy art thou beholden for all | 297.939832 | 1,435 |
2023-11-16 18:20:44.7324730 | 1,082 | 391 |
Produced by Malcolm Farmer, Stephen Blundell and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by the Library of Congress)
[Illustration: MAY KELLOGG SULLIVAN IN ALASKA DRESS.]
A WOMAN WHO
WENT ----
TO ALASKA
By May Kellogg Sullivan
ILLUSTRATED
Boston:
James H. Earle & Company
178 Washington Street
_Copyright, 1902_
_By MAY KELLOGG SULLIVAN_
_All Rights Reserved_
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I Under Way 9
II Midnight on a Yukon Steamer 19
III Dawson 28
IV The Rush 36
V At The Arctic Circle 48
VI Companions 58
VII Going to Nome 78
VIII Fresh Danger 81
IX Nome 94
X The Four Sisters 109
XI Life in a Mining Camp 131
XII Bar-Room Disturbances 149
XIII Off For Golovin Bay 162
XIV Life at Golovin 184
XV Winter in the Mission 199
XVI The Retired Sea Captain 215
XVII How the Long Days Passed 231
XVIII Swarming 247
XIX New Quarters 261
XX Christmas in Alaska 275
XXI My First Gold Claims 292
XXII The Little Sick Child 311
XXIII Lights and Shadows of the Mining Camp 325
XXIV An Unpleasant Adventure 340
XXV Stones and Dynamite 354
XXVI Good-bye to Golovin Bay 374
XXVII Going Outside 379
Transcriber's Note
Obvious printer errors have been corrected. All other
inconsistencies remain as printed.
A list of illustrations, though not present in the original, has
been provided below:
MAY KELLOGG SULLIVAN IN ALASKA DRESS.
DAWSON, Y. T.
CITY HALL AT SKAGWAY.
PORCUPINE CANYON, WHITE PASS.
MILES CANYON.
UPPER YUKON STEAMER.
FIVE FINGER RAPIDS.
GOING TO DAWSON IN WINTER.
A KLONDYKE CLAIM.
EAGLE CITY, ON THE YUKON, IN 1899.
YUKON STEAMER "HANNAH."
FELLOW TRAVELERS.
ESKIMOS.
UNALASKA.
STEAMSHIP ST. PAUL.
NOME.
LIFE AT NOME.
CLAIM NUMBER NINE, ANVIL CREEK.
CLAIM NUMBER FOUR, ANVIL CREEK, NOME.
MAP OF ALASKA.
ESKIMO DOGS.
WINTER PROSPECTING.
AT CHINIK. THE MISSION.
CLAIM ON BONANZA CREEK.
ON BONANZA CREEK.
SKAGWAY RIVER, FROM THE TRAIN.
PREFACE
This unpretentious little book is the outcome of my own experiences and
adventures in Alaska. Two trips, covering a period of eighteen months
and a distance of over twelve thousand miles were made practically
alone.
In answer to the oft-repeated question of why I went to Alaska I can
only give the same reply that so many others give: I wanted to go in
search of my fortune which had been successfully eluding my grasp for a
good many years. Neither home nor children claimed my attention. No good
reason, I thought, stood in the way of my going to Alaska; for my
husband, traveling constantly at his work had long ago allowed me carte
blanche as to my inclinations and movements. To be sure, there was no
money in the bank upon which to draw, and an account with certain
friends whose kindness and generosity cannot be forgotten, was opened up
to pay passage money; but so far neither they nor I have regretted
making the venture.
I had first-class health and made up in endurance what I lacked in
avoirdupois, along with a firm determination to take up the first honest
work that presented itself, regardless of choice, and in the meantime to
secure a few gold claims, the fame of which had for two years reached my
ears.
In regard to the truthfulness of this record I have tried faithfully to
relate my experiences as they took place. Not all, of course, have been
included, for numerous and varied trials came to me, of which I have not
written, else a far more thrilling story could have been told.
Enough has, however, been noted to give my readers a fair idea of a
woman's life during | 298.051883 | 1,436 |
2023-11-16 18:20:44.7369840 | 245 | 14 |
Produced by Brenda Lewis, Mary Meehan and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at
http://www.pgdpcanada.net (This file was produced from
images generously made available by The Internet
Archive/American Libraries.)
A CHANGED HEART
A Novel.
BY MAY AGNES FLEMING,
AUTHOR OF "GUY EARLSCOURT'S WIFE," "A TERRIBLE SECRET," "A WONDERFUL
WOMAN," "ONE NIGHT'S MYSTERY," "SILENT AND TRUE," "A MAD MARRIAGE,"
"LOST FOR A WOMAN," ETC., ETC.
"If Fortune, with a smiling face,
Strew roses on our way,
When shall we stoop to pick them up?
To-day, my love, to-day."
NEW YORK:
Copyright, 1881, by
_G. W. Carleton & Co., Publishers_,
LONDON: S. LOW, SON & CO.
MDCCCLXXXIII.
Stereotyped by
SAMUEL STODDER,
ELECTRO | 298.056394 | 1,437 |
2023-11-16 18:20:45.1763390 | 1,018 | 390 |
Produced by Imran Ghory, Stan Goodman, Mary Meehan and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team
THE YOUNG WOODSMAN
OR
Life in the Forests of Canada
BY J. MACDONALD OXLEY
Author of "Diamond Rock; or, On the Right Track," &c. &c.
1895
CONTENTS.
I. THE CALL TO WORK
II. THE CHOICE OF AN OCCUPATION
III. OFF TO THE WOODS
IV. THE BUILDING OF THE SHANTY
V. STANDING FIRE
VI. LIFE IN THE LUMBER CAMP
VII. A THRILLING EXPERIENCE
VIII. IN THE NICK OF TIME
IX. OUT OF CLOUDS, SUNSHINE
X. A HUNTING-TRIP
XI. THE GREAT SPRING DRIVE
XII. HOME AGAIN
THE YOUNG WOODSMAN.
CHAPTER I.
THE CALL TO WORK.
"I'm afraid there'll be no more school for you now, Frank darling. Will
you mind having to go to work?"
"Mind it! Why, no, mother; not the least bit. I'm quite old enough, ain't
I?"
"I suppose you are, dear; though I would like to have you stay at your
lessons for one more year anyway. What kind of work would you like best?"
"That's not a hard question to answer, mother. I want to be what father
was."
The mother's face grew pale at this reply, and for some few moments she
made no response.
* * * * *
The march of civilization on a great continent means loss as well as
gain. The opening up of the country for settlement, the increase and
spread of population, the making of the wilderness to blossom as the
rose, compel the gradual retreat and disappearance of interesting
features that can never be replaced. The buffalo, the beaver, and the elk
have gone; the bear, the Indian, and the forest in which they are both
most at home, are fast following.
Along the northern border of settlement in Canada there are flourishing
villages and thriving hamlets to-day where but a few years ago the
verdurous billows of the primeval forest rolled in unbroken grandeur. The
history of any one of these villages is the history of all. An open space
beside the bank of a stream or the margin of a lake presented itself to
the keen eye of the woodranger traversing the trackless waste of forest
as a fine site for a lumber camp. In course of time the lumber camp grew
into a depot from which other camps, set still farther back in the depths
of the "limits," are supplied. Then the depot develops into a settlement
surrounded by farms; the settlement gathers itself into a village with
shops, schools, churches, and hotels; and so the process of growth goes
on, the forest ever retreating as the dwellings of men multiply.
It was in a village with just such a history, and bearing the name of
Calumet, occupying a commanding situation on a vigorous tributary of the
Ottawa River--the Grand River, as the dwellers beside its banks are fond
of calling it--that Frank Kingston first made the discovery of his own
existence and of the world around him. He at once proceeded to make
himself master of the situation, and so long as he confined his efforts
to the limits of his own home he met with an encouraging degree of
success; for he was an only child, and, his father's occupation requiring
him to be away from home a large part of the year, his mother could
hardly be severely blamed if she permitted her boy to have a good deal of
his own way.
In the result, however, he was not spoiled. He came of sturdy, sensible
stock, and had inherited some of the best qualities from both sides of
the house. To his mother he owed his fair curly hair, his deep blue,
honest eyes, his impulsive and tender heart; to his father, his strong
symmetrical figure, his quick brain, and his eager ambition. He was a
good-looking, if not strikingly handsome, boy, and carried himself in an
alert, active way that made a good impression on one at the start. He had
a quick temper that would flash out hotly if he were provoked, and at
such times he would do and say things for which he was heartily sorry
afterwards. But from those hateful qualities that we call malice,
rancour, and sullenness he was absolutely free. To "have it out" and then
shake hands and forget all about it--that was his way | 298.495749 | 1,438 |
2023-11-16 18:20:45.4501880 | 395 | 85 |
Produced by Larry B. Harrison, MFR and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
JANUS IN MODERN LIFE
JANUS
IN
MODERN LIFE
BY
W. M. FLINDERS PETRIE
D.C.L., LL.D., F.R.S., F.B.A., &c.
_Fools only learn by their own experience,
Wise men learn by the experience of others._
LONDON:
ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE & CO. LTD.
10 ORANGE STREET, LEICESTER SQUARE W.C.
1907.
"There are two roads to reformation for mankind—one through
misfortunes of their own, the other through those of others; the former
is the more unmistakable, the latter the less painful.... For it is
history, and history alone, which, without involving us in actual
danger, will mature our judgment, and prepare us to take right views,
whatever may be the crisis or the posture of affairs."
POLYBIUS.
PREFACE.
These papers essay an understanding of some of the various principles
which underlie the course of political movements in the present age.
There is no attempt at introducing any considerations which are
not familiar to every intelligent person, nor any comparisons with
other instances which are not already well known in history. Why
considerations which seem so obvious when stated, should yet not be
familiar, may perhaps be due to the estrangement between science and
corporate life, which is an unhappy feature of a time of transition
both in education and in motives.
The point of view here is that of public and general conditions and
not of private variations of beliefs. Such moral factors, though
all important to the | 298.769598 | 1,439 |
2023-11-16 18:20:45.7775570 | 435 | 114 |
Produced by Col Choat. HTML version by Al Haines.
On Our Selection
Steele Rudd (Arthur Hoey Davis)
PIONEERS OF AUSTRALIA!
To You "Who Gave Our Country Birth;"
to the memory of You
whose names, whose giant enterprise, whose deeds of
fortitude and daring
were never engraved on tablet or tombstone;
to You who strove through the silences of the Bush-lands
and made them ours;
to You who delved and toiled in loneliness through
the years that have faded away;
to You who have no place in the history of our Country
so far as it is yet written;
to You who have done MOST for this Land;
to You for whom few, in the march of settlement, in the turmoil
of busy city life, now appear to care;
and to you particularly,
GOOD OLD DAD,
This Book is most affectionately dedicated.
"STEELE RUDD."
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. STARTING THE SELECTION
CHAPTER II. OUR FIRST HARVEST
CHAPTER III. BEFORE WE GOT THE DEEDS
CHAPTER IV. WHEN THE WOLF WAS AT THE DOOR
CHAPTER V. THE NIGHT WE WATCHED FOR WALLABIES
CHAPTER VI. GOOD OLD BESS
CHAPTER VII. CRANKY JACK
CHAPTER VIII. A KANGAROO HUNT FROM SHINGLE HUT
CHAPTER IX. DAVE'S SNAKEBITE
CHAPTER X. DAD AND THE DONOVANS
CHAPTER XI. A SPLENDID YEAR FOR CORN
CHAPTER XII. KATE'S WEDDING
CHAPTER XIII. THE SUMMER OLD BOB DIED
CHAPTER XIV. WHEN DAN CAME HOME
CHAPTER XV. OUR CIRCUS
CHAPTER XVI. WHEN JOE WAS IN CHARGE
CHAPTER XVII. | 299.096967 | 1,440 |
2023-11-16 18:20:46.0299830 | 379 | 81 |
Produced by David Widger from page images generously
provided by the Internet Archive
ONCE UPON A TIME AND OTHER CHILD-VERSES
By Mary E. Wilkins
Author Of "The Pot Of Gold," "Jane Field," "A New England Nun,"
"An Humble Romance," "Pembroke," Etc.
Illustrated By Etheldred B. Barry
Boston:
Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.
1897
[Illustration: 0001]
[Illustration: 0004]
PREFACE
[Illustration: 9007]
|TRUSTING to the sweet charity of little folk
To find some grace, in spite of halting rhyme
And frequent telling, in these little tales,
I say again:--Now, once upon a time!
[Illustration: 0007]
ONCE UPON A TIME
|NOW, once upon a time, a nest of fairies
Was in a meadow 'neath a wild rose-
tree;
And, once upon a time, the violets clustered
So thick around it one could scarcely see;
And, once upon a time, a troop of children
Came dancing by upon the flowery ground;
And, once upon a time, the nest of fairies,
With shouts of joy and wonderment they
found;
And, once upon a time, the fairies fluttered
On purple winglets, shimmering in the sun;
And, once upon a time, the nest forsaking,
They flew off thro' the violets, every one;
And, once upon a time, the children followed
With loud halloos along the meadow green;
And, once upon a time, the fairies vanished,
And never more could one of | 299.349393 | 1,441 |
2023-11-16 18:20:46.3386010 | 1,099 | 410 |
E-text prepared by Roger Frank, Juliet Sutherland, and the Project
Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 25865-h.htm or 25865-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/5/8/6/25865/25865-h/25865-h.htm)
or
(http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/5/8/6/25865/25865-h.zip)
PATTY'S SUMMER DAYS
by
CAROLYN WELLS
Author of "Idle Idylls," "Patty in the City," etc.
Illustrated
[Illustration]
New York Dodd, Mead & Company 1909
Copyright, 1906, by
Dodd, Mead & Company
Published, September, 1906
To
ELEANOR SHIPLEY HALSEY
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I A Gay Household 1
II Wedding Bells 13
III Atlantic City 27
IV Lessons Again 40
V A New Home 53
VI Busy Days 66
VII A Rescue 79
VIII Commencement Day 92
IX The Play 105
X A Motor Trip 118
XI Dick Phelps 130
XII Old China 143
XIII A Stormy Ride 155
XIV Pine Branches 169
XV Miss Aurora <DW12> 182
XVI A Quilting Party 195
XVII A Summer Christmas 208
XVIII At Sandy Cove 221
XIX Rosabel 234
XX The Rolands 246
XXI The Crusoes 259
XXII The Bazaar Of All Nations 271
XXIII The End Of The Summer 287
ILLUSTRATIONS
"Patty fairly reveled in Nan's beautiful trousseau" 8
"'There, you can see for yourself, there ain't no chip or
crack into it'" 147
"Although a successful snapshot was only achieved after
many attempts" 176
"Patty arrayed herself in a flowered silk of Dresden effect" 203
"In a few minutes Patty was feeding Rosabel bread and milk" 234
PATTY'S SUMMER DAYS
CHAPTER I
A GAY HOUSEHOLD
"Isn't Mrs. Phelps too perfectly sweet! That is the loveliest fan I ever
laid eyes on, and to think it's mine!"
"And _will_ you look at this? A silver coffee-machine! Oh, Nan, mayn't I
make it work, sometimes?"
"Indeed you may; and oh, see this! A piece of antique Japanese bronze!
Isn't it _great?_"
"I don't like it as well as the sparkling, shiny things. This silver tray
beats it all hollow. Did you ever see such a brightness in your life?"
"Patty, you're hopelessly Philistine! But that tray is lovely, and of an
exquisite design."
Patty and Nan were unpacking wedding presents, and the room was strewn
with boxes, tissue paper, cotton wool, and shredded-paper packing.
Only three days more, and then Nan Allen was to marry Mr. Fairfield,
Patty's father.
Patty was spending the whole week at the Allen home in Philadelphia, and
was almost as much interested in the wedding preparations as Nan herself.
"I don't think there's anything so much fun as a house with a wedding
fuss in it," said Patty to Mrs. Allen, as Nan's mother came into the room
where the girls were.
"Just wait till you come to your own wedding fuss, and then see if you
think it's so much fun," said Nan, who was rapidly scribbling names of
friends to whom she must write notes of acknowledgment for their gifts.
"That's too far in the future even to think of," said Patty, "and
besides, I must get my father married and settled, before I can think of
myself."
She wagged her head at Nan with a comical look, and they all laughed.
It was a great joke that Patty's father should be about to marry her dear
girl friend. But Patty was mightily pleased at the prospect, and looked
forward with happiness to the enlarged home circle.
"The trouble is," said Patty, "I don't know what to call this august
personage who insists on becoming my father's wife."
"I shall rule you with a rod of iron," said Nan, "and you'll stand so in
awe of me, that you won't dare to call me anything."
"You think so, do you?" said Patty saucily. "Well, just let me inform
you, Mrs. Fairfield, that is to be, that I intend to | 299.658011 | 1,442 |
2023-11-16 18:20:46.5087130 | 1,339 | 72 |
Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Anne Storer and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's Note: [=o] = macron above letter
* * * * *
BOYS AND GIRLS BOOKSHELF
_A Practical Plan of Character Building_
COMPLETE IN SEVENTEEN VOLUMES
I Fun and Thought for Little Folk
II Folk-Lore, Fables, and Fairy Tales
III Famous Tales and Nature Stories
IV Things to Make and Things to Do
V True Stories from Every Land
VI Famous Songs and Picture Stories
VII Nature and Outdoor Life, Part I
VIII Nature and Outdoor Life, Part II
IX Earth, Sea, and Sky
X Games and Handicraft
XI Wonders of Invention
XII Marvels of Industry
XIII Every Land and its Story
XIV Famous Men and Women
XV Bookland--Story and Verse, Part I
XVI Bookland--Story and Verse, Part II
XVII Graded and Classified Index
THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY
INCORPORATED
_New York_
[Illustration: THE SUNSET FAIRIES
FROM A DRAWING BY FLORENCE MARY ANDERSON]
BOYS AND GIRLS
BOOKSHELF
_A Practical Plan of Character Building_
Little Folks' Section
[Illustration: INSTRUCTIVE PLAY... VOCATIONAL GUIDANCE
The Four Fold Life
MENTAL PHYSICAL SOCIAL MORAL]
Prepared Under the Supervision of
THE EDITORIAL BOARD _of the_ UNIVERSITY SOCIETY
Volume II
FOLK-LORE, FABLES, AND FAIRY TALES
THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY
INCORPORATED
_New York_
Copyright, 1920, By
THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY INC.
Copyright, 1912, 1915, By
THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY INC.
_Manufactured in the U. S. A._
INTRODUCTION
This volume is devoted to a choice collection of the standard and
new fairy-tales, wonder stories, and fables. They speak so truly and
convincingly for themselves that we wish to use this introductory page
only to emphasize their value to young children. There are still those
who find no room in their own reading, and would give none in the
reading of the young, except for facts. They confuse facts and truth,
and forget that there is a world of truth that is larger than the mere
facts of life, being compact of imagination and vision and ideals. Dr.
Hamilton Wright Mabie convinced us of this in his cogent words.
"America," he said, "has at present greater facility in producing
'smart' men than in producing able men; the alert, quick-witted
money-maker abounds, but the men who live with ideas, who care for the
principles of things, and who make life rich in resource and interest,
are comparatively few. America needs poetry more than it needs
industrial training, though the two ought never to be separated. The
time to awaken the imagination, which is the creative faculty, is early
childhood, and the most accessible material for this education is the
literature which the race created in its childhood."
The value of the fairy-tale and the wonder-tale is that they tell about
the magic of living. Like the old woman in Mother Goose, they "brush
the cobwebs out of the sky." They enrich, not cheapen, life. Plenty of
things do cheapen life for children. Most movies do. Sunday comic
supplements do. Ragtime songs do. Mere gossip does. But fairy stories
enhance life.
They are called "folk-tales," that is, tales of the common folk. They
were largely the dreams of the poor. They consist of fancies that have
illumined the hard facts of life. They find animals, trees, flowers,
and the stars friendly. They speak of victory. In them the child is
master even of dragons. He can live like a prince, in disguise, or,
if he be uncomely, he may hope to win Beauty after he is free of his
masquerade.
Wonder-stories help make good children as well as happy children.
In these stories witches, wolves, and evil persons are defeated or
exposed. Fairy godmothers are ministers of justice. The side that the
child wishes to triumph always does triumph, and so goodness always is
made to seem worth-while.
Almost every fairy-tale contains a test of character or shrewdness or
courage. Sharp distinctions are made, that require a child of parts to
discern.
And the heroes of these nursery tales are much more convincing than
precepts or golden texts, for they impress upon the child not merely
what he ought to do, but what nobly has been done. And the small
hero-worshiper will follow where his admirations lead.
Fables do much the same, and by imagining that the animals have arrived
at human speech and wisdom, they help the child to think shrewdly and
in a friendly way, as if in comradeship with his pets and with our
brothers and sisters, the beasts of the field and forest.
* * * * *
CONTENTS
PAGE
INTRODUCTION vii
#THE OLD FAIRY TALES#
THE ROAD TO FAIRY LAND 2
By Cecil Cavendish
THE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESS GOLDENLOCKS 3
PRINCE HYACINTH AND THE DEAR LITTLE PRINCESS 7
By Madame Leprince De Beaumont
CINDERELLA 10
By Charles Perrault
THE SLEEPING BEAUTY 13
Adapted from the Brothers Grimm
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST 15
PRINCE DARLING 20
RUMPELSTILTSKIN 26
Adapted from the | 299.828123 | 1,443 |
2023-11-16 18:20:46.5646040 | 1,317 | 235 |
Produced by David Garcia, Linda Hamilton and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Kentuckiana Digital Library)
[Illustration: FIGHT WITH THE GRIZZLY BEARS. _p. 290._]
THE
BACKWOODSMAN;
OR,
=Life on the Indian Frontier.=
[Illustration]
LONDON:
WARD, LOOK, AND TYLER,
WARWICK HOUSE, PATERNOSTER ROW.
THE
BACKWOODSMAN
OR
=Life on the Indian Frontier.=
EDITED BY
SIR C. F. LASCELLES WRAXALL, BART.
[Illustration: WL&T]
LONDON:
WARD, LOCK, AND TYLER,
WARWICK HOUSE, PATERNOSTER ROW.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY J. OGDEN AND CO.,
172, ST. JOHN STREET, E.C.
[Illustration]
CONTENTS.
CHAP. PAGE
I. MY SETTLEMENT 1
II. THE COMANCHES 6
III. A FIGHT WITH THE WEICOS 12
IV. HUNTING ADVENTURES 19
V. THE NATURALIST 30
VI. MR. KREGER'S FATE 41
VII. A LONELY RIDE 53
VIII. THE JOURNEY CONTINUED 66
IX. HOMEWARD BOUND 82
X. THE BEE HUNTER 99
XI. THE WILD HORSE 114
XII. THE PRAIRIE FIRE 126
XIII. THE DELAWARE INDIAN 137
XIV. IN THE MOUNTAINS 151
XV. THE WEICOS 162
XVI. THE BEAR HOLE 173
XVII. THE COMANCHE CHIEF 185
XVIII. THE NEW COLONISTS 208
XIX. A BOLD TOUR 224
XX. THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS 238
XXI. LOST IN THE MOUNTAINS 253
XXII. BEAVER HUNTERS 267
XXIII. THE GRIZZLY BEARS 282
XXIV. ASCENT OF THE BIGHORN 300
XXV. ON THE PRAIRIE 326
XXVI. THE COMANCHES 345
XXVII. HOME AGAIN 363
XXVIII. INDIAN BEAUTIES 381
XXIX. THE SILVER MINE 396
XXX. THE PURSUIT 412
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE BACKWOODSMAN
CHAPTER I.
MY SETTLEMENT.
My blockhouse was built at the foot of the mountain chain of the Rio
Grande, on the precipitous banks of the River Leone. On three sides it
was surrounded by a fourteen feet stockade of split trees standing
perpendicularly. At the two front corners of the palisade were small
turrets of the same material, whence the face of the wall could be held
under fire in the event of an attack from hostile Indians. On the south
side of the river stretched out illimitable rolling prairies, while the
northern side was covered with the densest virgin forest for many miles.
To the north and west I had no civilized neighbours at all, while to the
south and east the nearest settlement was at least 250 miles distant. My
small garrison consisted of three men, who, whenever I was absent,
defended the fort, and at other times looked after the small field and
garden as well as the cattle.
As I had exclusively undertaken to provide my colony with meat, I rarely
stayed at home, except when there was some pressing field work to be
done. Each dawn saw me leave the fort with my faithful dog Trusty, and
turn my horse either toward the boundless prairie or the mountains of
the Rio Grande.
Very often hunting kept me away from home for several days, in which
case I used to bivouac in the tall grass by the side of some prattling
stream. Such oases, though not frequent, are found here and there on the
prairies of the Far West, where the dark, lofty magnolias offer the
wearied traveller refreshment beneath their thick foliage, and the
stream at their base grants a cooling draught. One of these favourite
spots of mine lay near the mountains, about ten miles from my abode. It
was almost the only water far and wide, and here formed two ponds, whose
depths I was never able to sound, although I lowered large stones
fastened to upwards of a hundred yards of lasso. The small space between
the two ponds was overshadowed by the most splendid magnolias, peca-nut
trees, yuccas, evergreen oaks, &c., and begirt by a wall of cactuses,
aloes, and other prickly plants. I often selected this place for
hunting, because it always offered a large quantity of game of every
description, and I was certain at any time of finding near this water
hundreds of wild turkeys, which constitute a great dainty in the bill of
fare of the solitary hunter.
After a very hot spring day I had sought the ponds, as it was too late
to ride home. The night was glorious; the magnolias and large-flowered
cactuses diffused their vanilla perfume over me; myriads of fireflies
continually darted over the plain, and a gallant mocking-bird poured
forth its dulcet melody into the silent night above my head. The whole
of nature seemed to be revelling in the beauty of this night, and
thousands of insects sport | 299.884014 | 1,444 |
2023-11-16 18:20:46.8440170 | 1,017 | 537 |
Produced by Juliet Sutherland, D Alexander and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
PEGGY OWEN
AND LIBERTY
_BY_ LUCY
FOSTER
MADISON
AUTHOR OF
"PEGGY OWEN"
"PEGGY OWEN,
PATRIOT"
"PEGGY OWEN
AT YORKTOWN"
ETC.
ILLUSTRATED BY
H. J. PECK
The Penn Publishing Company
PHILADELPHIA MCMXIII
COPYRIGHT
1912 BY
THE PENN
PUBLISHING
COMPANY
[Illustration: "WHY, IT'S FATHER!"]
"The motto of our father-band
Circled the world in its embrace:
'Twas Liberty throughout the land,
And good to all their brother race.
Long here--within the pilgrim's bell
Had lingered--though it often pealed--
Those treasured tones, that eke should tell
Where freedom's proudest scroll was sealed!
Here the dawn of reason broke
On the trampled rights of man;
And a moral era woke
Brightest since the world began."
Introduction
In "Peggy Owen," the first book of this series, is related the story
of a little Quaker maid who lived across from the State House in
Philadelphia, and who, neutral at first on account of her religion,
became at length an active patriot. The vicissitudes and annoyances to
which she and her mother are subjected by one William Owen, an officer
in the English army and a kinsman of her father's, are also given.
"Peggy Owen, Patriot" tells of Peggy's winter at Middlebrook, in
northern New Jersey, where Washington's army is camped, her capture by
the British and enforced journey to the Carolinas, and final return
home.
"Peggy Owen at Yorktown" details how Peggy goes to Virginia to nurse a
cousin, who is wounded and a prisoner. The town is captured by the
British under Benedict Arnold, the traitor, and Peggy is led to
believe that he has induced the desertion of her friend, John
Drayton. Drayton's rescue from execution as a spy and the siege of
Yorktown follow.
In the present volume Peggy's friends rally about her when her Cousin
Clifford is in danger of capture. The exciting events of the story
show the unsettled state of the country after the surrender of
Cornwallis.
Contents
I. A SMALL DINNER BECOMES A PARTY 11
II. PEGGY IS SURPRISED 26
III. ON THE HORNS OF A DILEMMA 40
IV. THE SEARCH 53
V. FRIENDS IN NEED 69
VI. APPEARANCES AGAINST HER 81
VII. DAVID OWEN IS INFORMED OF THE FACTS 94
VIII. BEFORE THE COUNCIL 108
IX. OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN INTO THE FIRE 120
X. A RACE FOR LIFE 134
XI. THE CHOICE OF FAIRFAX 144
XII. "THEY MUST GO HOME" 163
XIII. A WOMAN'S WIT 176
XIV. MARCHING ORDERS 194
XV. THE ATTACK ON THE BLOCKHOUSE 215
XVI. "OF WHAT WAS HE GUILTY?" 227
XVII. A GLIMPSE OF HOME 244
XVIII. HEROD OUT HERODED 256
XIX. THE TURN OF THE WHEEL 272
XX. A SLIGHT EMPHASIS OF "THAT" 285
XXI. CHOSEN BY LOT 303
XXII. WHAT CAN BE DONE? 318
XXIII. A LITTLE HUMOR DESPITE A GRIM SITUATION 334
XXIV. "THEE MAY TELL HIM AT THE LAST" 348
XXV. AT HEADQUARTERS 363
XXVI. THE ADVENTURE OF THE GLEN 376
XXVII. THE SAFEGUARD OF HIS HONOR 392
XXVIII. "HOW COULD SHE KNOW?" 407
XXIX. IN THE SHADOW OF DEATH 424
XXX. AND THEN THE END 437
Illustrations
PAGE
"WHY, IT'S FATHER!" _Frontispiece_
"CLOSE THE | 300.163427 | 1,445 |
2023-11-16 18:20:46.8616090 | 1,139 | 674 |
Produced by Paul Marshall, Malcolm Farmer and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 107.
August 11, 1894.
LORD ORMONT'S MATE AND MATEY'S AMINTA.
BY G***GE M*R*D*TH.
VOLUME III.
And now the climax comes not with tongue-lolling sheep-fleece wolves,
ears on top remorselessly pricked for slaughter of the bleating imitated
lamb, here a fang pointing to nethermost pit not of stomach but of
Acheron, tail waving in derision of wool-bearers whom the double-rowed
desiring mouth soon shall grip, food for mamma-wolf and baby-wolf,
papa-wolf looking on, licking chaps expectant of what shall remain; and
up goes the clamour of flocks over the country-side, and up goes howling
of shepherds shamefully tricked by AEsop-fable artifice or doggish
dereliction of primary duty; for a watch has been set through which the
wolf-enemy broke paws on the prowl; and the King feels this, and the
Government, a slab-faced jubber-mubber of contending punies,
party-voters to the front, conscience lagging how far behind no man can
tell, and the country forgotten, a lout dragging his chaw-bacon hobnails
like a flask-fed snail housed safely, he thinks, in unbreakable shell
soon to be broken, and no man's fault, while the slow country sinks to
the enemy, ships bursting, guns jammed, and a dull shadow of defeat on a
war-office drifting to the tide-way of unimagined back-stops on a lumpy
cricket-field of national interests. But this was a climax revealed to
the world. The Earl was deaf to it. Lady CHARLOTTE dumbed it
surprisingly. Change the spelling, put a for u and n for b in the
dumbed, and you have the way MORSFIELD mouthed it, and MATEY swimming
with BROWNY full in the Harwich tide; head under heels up down they go
in Old Ocean, a glutton of such embraces, lapping softly on a pair of
white ducks tar-stained that very morning and no mistake.
"I have you fast!" cried MATEY.
"Two and two's four," said BROWNY. She slipped. "_Are_ four," corrected
he, a tutor at all times, boys and girls taken in and done for, and no
change given at the turnstiles.
"Catch as catch can," was her next word. Plop went a wave full in the
rosy mouth. "Where's the catch of this?" stuttered the man.
"A pun, a pun!" bellowed the lady. "But not by four-in-hand from
London."
She had him there. He smiled a blue acquiescence. So they landed, and
the die was cast, ducks changed, and the goose-pair braving it in dry
clothes by the kitchen fire. There was nothing else to be done; for the
answer confessed to a dislike of immersions two at a time, and the hair
clammy with salt like cottage-bacon on a breakfast-table.
Lord ORMONT sat with the jewels seized from the debating, unbeaten
sister's grasp.
"She is at Marlow," he opined.
"Was," put in Lady CHARLOTTE.
The answer blew him for memory.
"MORSFIELD's dead," his lordship ventured; "jobbed by a foil with button
off."
"And a good job too."
Lady CHARLOTTE was ever on the crest-wave of the moment's humour. He
snicked a back-stroke to the limits, shaking the sparse hair of
repentance to the wind of her jest. But the unabashed one continued.
"I'll not call on her."
"You shall," said he.
"Shan't," was her lightning-parry.
"You shall," he persisted.
"Never. Her head is a water-flower that speaks at ease in the open sea.
How call on a woman with a head like that?"
The shock struck him fair and square.
"We wait," he said, and the conflict closed with advantage to the
petticoat.
A footman bore a letter. His step was of the footman order, calves
stuffed to a longed-for bulbousness, food for donkeys if any such should
chance: he presented it.
"I wait," he murmured.
"Whence and whither comes it?"
"Postmark may tell."
"Best open it," said the cavalry general, ever on the dash for open
country where squadrons may deploy right shoulders up, serre-files in
rear, and a hideous clatter of serjeant-majors spread over all. He
opened it. It was AMINTA's letter. She announced a French leave-taking.
The footman still stood. Lord ORMONT broke the silence.
"Go and be----" the words quivered into completion, supply the blank who
will.
But her punishment was certain. For it must be thus. Never a lady left
her wedded husband, but she must needs find herself | 300.181019 | 1,446 |
2023-11-16 18:20:47.1198580 | 1,033 | 427 |
Produced by David Garcia, Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Charlie
Howard, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images
generously made available by The Internet Archive)
MY YEAR OF THE GREAT WAR
_BY THE SAME AUTHOR_
GOING TO WAR IN GREECE
THE WAYS OF THE SERVICE
THE VAGABOND
WITH KUROKI IN MANCHURIA
OVER THE PASS
THE LAST SHOT
MY YEAR OF THE GREAT WAR
MY YEAR OF THE
GREAT WAR
BY
FREDERICK PALMER
Author of “The Last Shot,” “With Kuroki in Manchuria,”
“The Vagabond,” etc.
[Illustration]
Toronto
McClelland, Goodchild & Stewart
Limited
COPYRIGHT, 1915
BY DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY
_First Edition_ OCTOBER
_Second, Third and Fourth Editions_ NOVEMBER
_Fifth Edition_ DECEMBER
Printed in U. S. A.
TO THE READER
In “The Last Shot,” which appeared only a few months before the Great
War began, drawing from my experience in many wars, I attempted to
describe the character of a conflict between two great European
land-powers, such as France and Germany.
“You were wrong in some ways,” a friend writes to me, “but in other
ways it is almost as if you had written a play and they were following
your script and stage business.”
Wrong as to the duration of the struggle and its bitterness; right
about the part which artillery would play; right in suggesting the
stalemate of intrenchments when vast masses of troops occupied the
length of a frontier. Had the Germans not gone through Belgium and
attacked on the shorter line of the Franco-German boundary, the
parallel of fact with that of prediction would have been more complete.
As for the ideal of “The Last Shot,” we must await the outcome to see
how far it shall be fulfilled by a lasting peace.
Then my friend asks, “How does it make you feel?” Not as a prophet;
only as an eager observer, who finds that imagination pales beside
reality. If sometimes an incident seemed a page out of my novel, I was
reminded how much better I might have done that page from life; and
from life I am writing now.
I have seen too much of the war and yet not enough to assume the pose
of a military expert; which is easy when seated in a chair at home
before maps and news despatches, but becomes fantastic after one has
lived at the front. One waits on more information before he forms
conclusions about campaigns. He is certain only that the Marne was a
decisive battle for civilisation; that if England had not gone into the
war the Germanic Powers would have won in three months.
No words can exaggerate the heroism and sacrifice of the French or
the importance of the part which the British have played, which we
shall not realise till the war is over. In England no newspapers were
suppressed; casualty lists were given out; she gave publicity to
dissensions and mistakes which others concealed, in keeping with her
ancient birthright of free institutions which work out conclusions
through discussion rather than taking them ready-made from any ruler or
leader.
Whatever value this book has is the reflection of personal observation
and the thoughts which have occurred to me when I have walked around my
experiences and measured them and found what was worth while and what
was not. Such as they are, they are real.
Most vital of all in sheer expression of military power was the visit
to the British Grand Fleet; most humanly appealing, the time spent in
Belgium under German rule; most dramatic, the French victory on the
Marne; most precious, my long stay at the British front.
A traveller’s view I had of Germany in the early period of the war;
but I was never with the German army which made Americans particularly
welcome for obvious reasons. Between right and wrong one cannot be a
neutral. By foregoing the diversion of shaking hands and passing the
time of day on the Germanic fronts, I escaped having to be agreeable to
hosts warring for a cause and in a manner obnoxious to me. I was among
friends, living the life of one army and seeing war in all its aspects
from day to day, instead of having tourist glimpses.
Chapters which deal with the British army in France and with the
British fleet have been submitted to the censor. In all, possibly one
typewritten page fell foul of the blue pencil. Though the censor may
delete military secrets, he may not prompt opinions. Whatever notes | 300.439268 | 1,447 |
2023-11-16 18:20:47.1702840 | 1,009 | 397 |
Produced by Levent Kurnaz and Jose Menendez
The Fall of the House of Usher
Son coeur est un luth suspendu;
Sitot qu'on le touche il resonne.
DE BERANGER.
During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the
autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the
heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a
singularly dreary tract of country; and at length found myself,
as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the
melancholy House of Usher. I know not how it was--but, with the
first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable gloom
pervaded my spirit. I say insufferable; for the feeling was
unrelieved by any of that half-pleasureable, because poetic,
sentiment, with which the mind usually receives even the sternest
natural images of the desolate or terrible. I looked upon the
scene before me--upon the mere house, and the simple landscape
features of the domain--upon the bleak walls--upon the vacant
eye-like windows--upon a few rank sedges--and upon a few white
trunks of decayed trees--with an utter depression of soul which I
can compare to no earthly sensation more properly than to the
after-dream of the reveller upon opium--the bitter lapse into
everyday life--the hideous dropping off of the veil. There was
an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart--an unredeemed
dreariness of thought which no goading of the imagination could
torture into aught of the sublime. What was it--I paused to
think--what was it that so unnerved me in the contemplation of
the House of Usher? It was a mystery all insoluble; nor could I
grapple with the shadowy fancies that crowded upon me as I
pondered. I was forced to fall back upon the unsatisfactory
conclusion, that while, beyond doubt, there are combinations
of very simple natural objects which have the power of thus
affecting us, still the analysis of this power lies among
considerations beyond our depth. It was possible, I reflected,
that a mere different arrangement of the particulars of the
scene, of the details of the picture, would be sufficient to
modify, or perhaps to annihilate its capacity for sorrowful
impression; and, acting upon this idea, I reined my horse
to the precipitous brink of a black and lurid tarn that lay in
unruffled lustre by the dwelling, and gazed down--but with a
shudder even more thrilling than before--upon the remodelled and
inverted images of the grey sedge, and the ghastly tree-stems,
and the vacant and eye-like windows.
Nevertheless, in this mansion of gloom I now proposed to
myself a sojourn of some weeks. Its proprietor, Roderick Usher,
had been one of my boon companions in boyhood; but many years had
elapsed since our last meeting. A letter, however, had lately
reached me in a distant part of the country--a letter from
him--which, in its wildly importunate nature, had admitted of no
other than a personal reply. The MS gave evidence of nervous
agitation. The writer spoke of acute bodily illness--of a mental
disorder which oppressed him--and of an earnest desire to see me,
as his best, and indeed his only personal friend, with a view of
attempting, by the cheerfulness of my society, some alleviation
of his malady. It was the manner in which all this, and much
more, was said--it was the apparent heart that went with his
request--which allowed me no room for hesitation; and I
accordingly obeyed forthwith what I still considered a very
singular summons.
Although, as boys, we had been even intimate associates, yet
I really knew little of my friend. His reserve had been always
excessive and habitual. I was aware, however, that his very
ancient family had been noted, time out of mind, for a peculiar
sensibility of temperament, displaying itself, through long ages,
in many works of exalted art, and manifested, of late, in
repeated deeds of munificent yet unobtrusive charity, as well as
in a passionate devotion to the intricacies, perhaps even more
than to the orthodox and easily recognisable beauties of musical
science. I had learned, too, the | 300.489694 | 1,448 |
2023-11-16 18:20:47.6477820 | 1,020 | 400 |
Produced by Mark C. Orton, Linda McKeown, Barbara Tozier
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net
THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT
[Illustration: I'm in for some of the severest drubbings of my life]
THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT
Being a Record of the Adventures of a Live American Young Man
_By GEORGE RANDOLPH CHESTER_
AUTHOR OF
"Get Rich Quick Wallingford," "The Cash Intrigue," Etc.
WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS
BY JAMES MONTGOMERY FLAGG AND F. R. GRUGER
_A. L. BURT COMPANY_
_Publishers New York_
COPYRIGHT 1908
THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY
COPYRIGHT 1909
THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY
JUNE
DEDICATION
To the Handicapped Sons of Able
Fathers, and the Handicapped
Fathers of Able Sons,
with Sympathy for
each, and a
Smile for
both
THE MAKING OF BOBBY BURNIT
CHAPTER I
BOBBY MAKES SOME IMPORTANT PREPARATIONS FOR A COMMERCIAL LIFE
"I am profoundly convinced that my son is a fool," read the will of
old John Burnit. "I am, however, also convinced that I allowed him to
become so by too much absorption in my own affairs and too little in
his, and, therefore, his being a fool is hereditary; consequently, I
feel it my duty, first, to give him a fair trial at making his own
way, and second, to place the balance of my fortune in such trust that
he can not starve. The trusteeship is already created and the details
are nobody's present business. My son Robert will take over the John
Burnit Store and personally conduct it, as his only resource, without
further question as to what else I may have left behind me. This is my
last will and testament."
That is how cheerful Bobby Burnit, with no thought heretofore above
healthy amusements and Agnes Elliston, suddenly became a business man,
after having been raised to become the idle heir to about three
million. Of course, having no kith nor kin in all this wide world, he
went immediately to consult Agnes. It is quite likely that if he had
been supplied with dozens of uncles and aunts he would have gone first
to Agnes anyhow, having a mighty regard for her keen judgment, even
though her clear gaze rested now and then all too critically upon
himself. Just as he came whirling up the avenue he saw Nick Allstyne's
white car, several blocks ahead of him, stop at her door, and a figure
which he knew must be Nick jump out and trip up the steps. Almost
immediately the figure came down again, much more slowly, and climbed
into the car, which whizzed away.
"Not at home," grumbled Bobby.
It was like him, however, that he should continue straight to the
quaint old house of the Ellistons and proffer his own card, for,
though his aims could seldom be called really worth while, he
invariably finished the thing he set out to do. It seemed to be a sort
of disease. He could not help it. To his surprise, the Cerberus who
guarded the Elliston door received him with a smile and a bow, and
observed:
"Miss Elliston says you are to walk right on up to the Turkish alcove,
sir."
While Wilkins took his hat and coat Bobby paused for a moment
figuratively to hug himself. At home to no one else! Expecting him!
"I'll ask her again," said Bobby to himself with determination, and
stalked on up to the second floor hall, upon which opened a delightful
cozy corner where Aunt Constance Elliston permitted the more
"family-like" male callers to smoke and loll and be at mannish ease.
As he reached the landing the door of the library below opened, and in
it appeared Agnes and an unusually well-set-up young man--a new one,
who wore a silky mustache and most fastidious tailoring. The two were
talking and laughing gaily as the door opened, but as Agnes glanced up
and saw Bobby she suddenly stopped laughing, and he almost thought
that he overheard her say something in an aside to her companion. The
impression was but fleeting, however, for she immediately nodded
brightly. Bobby bowed rather stiffly in return, and continued his
| 300.967192 | 1,449 |
2023-11-16 18:20:47.6482630 | 1,008 | 395 |
Produced by David Widger from page images generously
provided by the Internet Archive
WHERE LOVE IS
By William J. Locke
New York
Grosset & Dunlap Publishers
Copyright, 1903 By John Lane
“_Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and
hatred therewith_.”
_The Proverbe of Solomon_
WHERE LOVE IS
Chapter I--THE FIRST GLIMPSE
HAVE you dined at Ranelagh lately?” asked Norma Hardacre.
“I have never been there in my life,” replied Jimmie Padgate. “In fact,”
he added simply, “I am not quite sure whether I know where it is.”
“Yours is the happier state. It is one of the dullest spots in a dull
world.”
“Then why on earth do people go there?”
The enquiry was so genuine that Miss Hardacre relaxed her expression of
handsome boredom and laughed.
“Because we are all like the muttons of Panurge,” she said. “Where one
goes, all go. Why are we here to-night?”
“To enjoy ourselves. How could one do otherwise in Mrs. Deering's
house?”
“You have known her a long time, I believe,” remarked Norma, taking the
opportunity of directing the conversation to a non-contentious topic.
“Since she was in short frocks. She is a cousin of King's--that's the
man who took you down to dinner--”
She nodded. “I have known Mr. King many weary ages.”
“And he has never told me about you!”
“Why should he?”
She looked him full in the face, with the stony calm of the fashionable
young woman accustomed to take excellent care of herself. Her companion
met her stare in whimsical confusion. Even so ingenuous a being as
Jimmie Padgate could not tell a girl he had met for the first time that
she was beautiful, adorable, and graced with divine qualities above all
women, and that intimate acquaintance with her must be the startling
glory of a lifetime.
“If I had known you for ages,” he replied prudently, “I should have
mentioned your name to Morland King.”
“Are you such friends then?”
“Fast friends: we were at school together, and as I was a lonely little
beggar I used to spend many of my holidays with his people. That is how
I knew Mrs. Deering in short frocks.”
“It's odd, then, that I haven't met you about before,” said the girl,
giving him a more scrutinising glance than she had hitherto troubled to
bestow upon him. A second afterwards she felt that her remark might have
been in the nature of an indiscretion, for her companion had not at all
the air of a man moving in the smart world to which she belonged. His
dress-suit was old and of lamentable cut; his shirt-cuffs were frayed;
a little bone stud, threatening every moment to slip the button-hole,
precariously secured his shirt-front. His thin, iron-grey hair was
untidy; his moustache was ragged, innocent of wax or tongs or any of
the adventitious aids to masculine adornment. His aspect gave the
impression, if not of poverty, at least of narrow means and humble ways
of life. Although he had sat next her at dinner, she had paid little
attention to him, finding easier entertainment in her conversation with
King on topics of common interest, than in possible argument with a
strange man whom she heard discussing the functions of art and other
such head-splitting matters with his right-hand neighbour. Indeed, her
question about Ranelagh when she found him by her side, later, in the
drawing-room was practically the first she had addressed to him with any
show of interest.
She hastened to repair her maladroit observation by adding before he
could reply,--
“That is rather an imbecile thing to say considering the
millions of people in London. But one is apt to talk in an imbecile
manner after a twelve hours' day of hard racket in the season. Don't you
think so? One's stock of ideas gets used up, like the air at the end of
a dance.”
“Not if you keep your soul properly ventilated,” he answered.
The words were, perhaps, not so arresting as the manner in which they
were uttered. Norma Hardacre was startled. A little shutter in the
back of her mind seemed to have flashed open for an elusive second, and
revealed a prospect wide, generous, alive with free-blowing airs.
Then all was dark again before she could realise the vision. She was
disconcerted, | 300.967673 | 1,450 |
2023-11-16 18:20:47.6614410 | 1,046 | 418 |
Produced by Clare Boothby and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+------------------------------------------------------------+
| Transcriber's Note: |
| |
| Obvious typographical errors have been corrected in |
| this text. For a complete list, please see the bottom of |
| this document. |
| |
| The children's letters on page 108 have been reproduced in |
| this text as diagrams. |
+------------------------------------------------------------+
ESSAY ON THE CREATIVE IMAGINATION
BY
TH. RIBOT
TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH
BY
ALBERT H. N. BARON
FELLOW IN CLARK UNIVERSITY
LONDON
KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO., LTD.
1906
COPYRIGHT BY
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING CO.
CHICAGO, U. S. A.
1906
_All rights reserved._
TO THE MEMORY OF MY TEACHER
AND FRIEND,
Arthur Allin, Ph. D.,
PROFESSOR OF PSYCHOLOGY AND EDUCATION,
UNIVERSITY OF COLORADO,
WHO FIRST INTERESTED ME IN THE PROBLEMS OF PSYCHOLOGY,
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED, WITH REVERENCE
AND GRATITUDE, BY
THE TRANSLATOR.
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.
The name of Th. Ribot has been for many years well known in America, and
his works have gained wide popularity. The present translation of one of
his more recent works is an attempt to render available in English what
has been received as a classic exposition of a subject that is often
discussed, but rarely with any attempt to understand its true nature.
It is quite generally recognized that psychology has remained in the
semi-mythological, semi-scholastic period longer than most attempts at
scientific formulization. For a long time it has been the "spook
science" _per se_, and the imagination, now analyzed by M. Ribot in such
a masterly manner, has been one of the most persistent, apparently real,
though very indefinite, of psychological spooks. Whereas people have
been accustomed to speak of the imagination as an entity _sui generis_,
as a lofty something found only in long-haired, wild-eyed "geniuses,"
constituting indeed the center of a cult, our author, Prometheus-like,
has brought it down from the heavens, and has clearly shown that
_imagination is a function of mind common to all men in some degree_,
and that it is shown in as highly developed form in commercial leaders
and practical inventors as in the most bizarre of romantic idealists.
The only difference is that the manifestation is not the same.
That this view is not entirely original with M. Ribot is not to his
discredit--indeed, he does not claim any originality. We find the view
clearly expressed elsewhere, certainly as early as Aristotle, that the
greatest artist is he who actually embodies his vision and will in
permanent form, preferably in social institutions. This idea is so
clearly enunciated in the present monograph, which the author modestly
styles an essay, that when the end of the book is reached but little
remains of the great imagination-ghost, save the one great mystery
underlying all facts of mind.
That the present rendering falls far below the lucid French of the
original, the translator is well aware; he trusts, however, that the
indulgent reader will take into account the good intent as offsetting in
part, at least, the numerous shortcomings of this version.
I wish here to express my obligation to those friends who encouraged me
in the congenial task of translation.
A. H. N. B.
AUTHOR'S PREFACE
Contemporary psychology has studied the purely reproductive imagination
with great eagerness and success. The works on the different
image-groups--visual, auditory, tactile, motor--are known to everyone,
and form a collection of inquiries solidly based on subjective and
objective observation, on pathological facts and laboratory experiments.
The study of the creative or constructive imagination, on the other
hand, has been almost entirely neglected. It would be easy to show that
the best, most complete, and most recent treatises on psychology devote
to it scarcely a page or two; often, indeed, do not even mention it. A
few articles, a few brief, scarce monographs, make up the sum of the
past twenty-five years' work on the subject. The subject does not,
however, at all deserve this indifferent or contemptuous attitude. Its
importance is unquestionable, and even though the study of the creative
imagination has hitherto remained almost inaccessible to experimentation
strictly so-called, there are yet other objective processes that permit
of our approaching it with some likelihood of success, and of continuing
the work of former psychologists | 300.980851 | 1,451 |
2023-11-16 18:20:48.0267190 | 1,054 | 419 |
Produced by David Edwards, Dan Horwood and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
[Illustration: LET GO OF THAT HORSE!--PAGE 144. Y. A.]
* * * * *
YOUNG AUCTIONEERS;
OR,
THE POLISHING OF A ROLLING STONE.
By EDWARD STRATEMEYER,
Author of "Bound to be an Electrician," "Shorthand Tom,"
"Fighting for his Own," etc., etc.
W. L. ALLISON COMPANY,
NEW YORK.
* * * * *
Popular Books for Boys and Girls.
Working Upward Series,
By EDWARD STRATEMEYER.
THE YOUNG AUCTIONEERS, or The Polishing of a Rolling Stone.
BOUND TO BE AN ELECTRICIAN, or Franklin Bell's Success.
SHORTHAND TOM THE REPORTER, or The Exploits of a Smart Boy.
FIGHTING FOR HIS OWN, or The Fortunes of a Young Artist.
Price, $1.00 per Volume, postpaid.
Bright and Bold Series,
By ARTHUR M. WINFIELD.
POOR BUT PLUCKY, or The Mystery of a Flood.
SCHOOL DAYS OF FRED HARLEY, or Rivals for All Honors.
BY PLUCK, NOT LUCK, or Dan Granbury's Struggle to Rise.
THE MISSING TIN BOX, or Hal Carson's Remarkable City Adventures.
Price, 75 Cents per Volume, postpaid.
Young Sportsman's Series,
By CAPTAIN RALPH BONEHILL.
THE RIVAL BICYCLISTS, or Fun and Adventures on the Wheel.
YOUNG OARSMEN OF LAKEVIEW, or The Mystery of Hermit Island.
LEO THE CIRCUS BOY, or Life Under the Great White Canvas.
Price, 75 Cents per Volume, postpaid.
Young Hunters Series,
By CAPTAIN RALPH BONEHILL.
GUN AND SLED, or The Young Hunters of Snow-Top Island.
YOUNG HUNTERS IN PORTO RICO, or The Search for a Lost Treasure.
(Another volume in preparation.)
Price, 75 Cents per Volume, postpaid.
W. L. ALLISON CO.,
105 Chambers Street, New York.
COPYRIGHT, 1897, BY W. L. ALLISON CO.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER. PAGE
I. Matt Attends a Sale 5
II. A Lively Discussion 12
III. Something of the Past 19
IV. An Interesting Proposition 26
V. Matt Is Discharged 33
VI. A Business Partnership 40
VII. Getting Ready to Start 47
VIII. An Unexpected Set-Back 53
IX. The Result of a Fire 60
X. On the Road at Last 68
XI. Harsh Treatment 77
XII. Matt Stands up for Himself 84
XIII. The Corn Salve Doctor 92
XIV. The Young Auctioneer 100
XV. The Charms of Music 108
XVI. The Confidence Man 116
XVII. The Storm 124
XVIII. A Hold Up 132
XIX. Out of a Bad Scrape 141
XX. Accused of Stealing 150
XXI. The Tell-Tale Cap 157
XXII. The Shanty in the Woods 165
XXIII. Something is Missing 173
XXIV. Along the River 181
XXV. A Bitter Mistake 189
XXVI. Something of a Surprise 197
XXVII. Timely Assistance 205
XXVIII. Back to the Village 213
XXIX. Undesirable Customers 220
XXX. A Dash from Danger 229
XXXI. Dangerous Mountain Travelling 238
XXXII. An Interesting Letter 245
XXXIII. The Rival Auctioneers 252
XXXIV. Matt Speaks His Mind 260
XXXV. Tom Inwold 268
XXXVI. Lost in the Snow 277
XXXVII. More of Auction Life 284
XXXVIII. A Surprising Discovery 291
XXXIX. A Mystery Cleared Up 298
XL. The Mining Shares 304
PREFACE.
"The Young Auctioneers" | 301.346129 | 1,452 |
2023-11-16 18:20:48.0386720 | 1,202 | 411 |
Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images available at The Internet Archive)
HISTORIC BUBBLES
BY
FREDERIC LEAKE.
[Illustration: colophon]
_The earth has bubbles as the water has,
And these are of them._--BANQUO.
_Mais les ouvrages les plus courts
Sont toujours les meilleurs._--LA FONTAINE.
ALBANY, N. Y.:
RIGGS PRINTING & PUBLISHING CO.,
1896.
COPYRIGHT, 1896
BY
RIGGS PRINTING AND PUBLISHING COMPANY
CONTENTS
PAGE
Duke of Berwick, 7
Captivity of Babylon, 45
The Second House of Burgundy, 75
Two Jaquelines, 115
Hoche, 152
An Interesting Ancestor of Queen Victoria, 185
John Wiclif, 201
PREFACE
Once upon a time I was a member of that arch-erudite body, the Faculty
of Williams College, and I took my turn in putting forth lectures
tending or pretending to edification. I was not to the manner born,
and had indulged even to indigestion, in the reading of history. These
ebullitions are what came of that intemperance.
The manuscripts were lying harmless in a bureau drawer, under gynæcian
strata, when, last summer, a near and rummaging relative, a printer,
unearthed them, read them, and asked leave to publish them. I refused;
but after conventional hesitation, I--still vowing I would ne’er
consent--consented.
With this diagnosis, I abandon them to the printer and the public.
Those who read them will form opinions of them, and some who read them
not, will do the same thing in accordance with a tempting canon of
criticism.
F. L.
WILLIAMSTOWN, MASS., 1896.
The Duke of Berwick
In the north-east corner of the map of England, or, if you are a
Scotchman, in the south-east corner of the map of Scotland, you will
find the town of Berwick.
That town was held first to belong to Scotland, and then to England.
Then the lawyers tried their hand at it, and made out that it belonged
to neither--that a writ issued either in England or Scotland, would
not run in Berwick-on-Tweed. So an act of Parliament was passed in the
reign of George II., to extend the authority of the British realm to
that evasive municipality.
The name is pronounced _Berrick_. It is a rule in England to spell
proper names one way and pronounce them another: thus Edinburgh is
Edinboro, Derby is Darby, Brougham is Broom, Cholmondeley is Chumly and
so on. This rule is sometimes inconvenient. An American tourist wished
to visit the home of Charlotte Brontë. He asked the way to Haworth.
_Ha-worth!_ Nobody had ever heard of such a place. No such place
in that part of England. At last somebody guessed that this stray
foreigner wanted to go to Hawth. Haworth is Hawth.
But that act of Parliament did not decree that folks should say Berrick
and not Berwick; and even if it had, it would not be of force in this
country; so the reader may pronounce it just as he pleases.
From that town was derived the ducal title of my subject.
In November, 1873, I sailed for England. Among my shipmates was Lord
Alfred Churchill an uncle of the present duke of Marlborough, and a
descendent of John Churchill duke of Marlborough the famous general
of Queen Anne. Walking the deck one day with Lord Alfred, I asked him
about his family--not about his wife and children--that would not have
been good manners; but about the historic line from which he sprang.
I asked how it was that he was a Churchill, when he was descended
not from a son but from a daughter of the great duke. He explained
that an act of parliament had authorised Charles Spencer, earl of
Sunderland, son-in-law of the duke, not only to take the title of duke
of Marlborough, but to change his name from Spencer to Churchill.
There can be no better evidence of the overshadowing glory of the
great captain than that the house of Sunderland should so nearly
suppress the old, aristocratic name of Spencer, in favor of the new,
the parvenu Churchill. The Spencers came in with the Conqueror, and we
meet them often in history. We well remember the two Spencers, father
and son, who were executed in the reign of Edward II. on a charge of
high-treason; and that bizarre historian A’Becket says that the sad
tale of those Spencers led afterwards to the introduction of spencers
without any tail at all.
I asked his lordship what had become of the Berwick branch of the
Churchills. He answered drily that he did not know--so drily in fact
that I inferred he had forgotten there had ever been such a branch.
In order to introduce that branch I must ask you to go back with me to
the middle of the seventeenth century.
Charles Stuart, Charles II. sits on the throne of England, or rather
perambulates about it, | 301.358082 | 1,453 |
2023-11-16 18:20:48.7195220 | 1,102 | 396 |
Produced by David Widger
THE MERRIE TALES OF JACQUES TOURNEBROCHE
AND CHILD LIFE IN TOWN AND COUNTRY
By Anatole France
John Lane Company, MCMXIX
Copyright 1909
John Lane Company
THE MERRIE TALES OF JACQUES TOURNEBROCHE
OLIVIER'S BRAG
[Illustration: 016]
The Emperor Charlemagne and his twelve peers, having taken the palmer's
staff at Saint-Denis, made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. They prostrated
themselves before the tomb of Our Lord, and sat in the thirteen chairs
of the great hall wherein Jesus Christ and his Apostles met together
to celebrate the blessed sacrifice of the Mass. Then they fared to
Constantinople, being fain to see King Hugo, who was renowned for his
magnificence.
The King welcomed them in his Palace, where, beneath a golden dome,
birds of ruby, wrought with a wondrous art, sat and sang in bushes of
emerald.
He seated the Emperor of France and the twelve Counts about a table
loaded with stags, boars, cranes, wild geese, and peacocks, served in
pepper. And he offered his guests, in ox-horns, the wines of Greece and
Asia to drink. Charlemagne and his companions quaffed all these wines
in honour of the King and his daughter, the Princess Helen. After supper
Hugo led them to the chamber where they were to sleep. Now this chamber
was circular, and a column, springing in the midst thereof, carried the
vaulted roof. Nothing could be finer to look upon. Against the walls,
which were hung with gold and purple, twelve beds were ranged, while
another greater than the rest stood beside the pillar.
Charlemagne lay in this, and the Counts stretched themselves round about
him on the others. The wine they had drunk ran hot in their veins, and
their brains were afire. They could not sleep, and fell to making brags
instead, and laying of wagers, as is the way of the knights of France,
each striving to outdo the other in warranting himself to do some
doughty deed for to manifest his prowess. The Emperor opened the game.
He said:
"Let them fetch me, a-horseback and fully armed, the best knight King
Hugo hath. I will lift my sword and bring it down upon him in such wise
it shall cleave helm and hauberk, saddle and steed, and the blade shall
delve a foot deep underground."
Guillaume d'Orange spake up after the Emperor and made the second brag.
"I will take," said he, "a ball of iron sixty men can scarce lift, and
hurl it so mightily against the Palace wall that it shall beat down
sixty fathoms' length thereof."
Ogier, the Dane, spake next.
"Ye see yon proud pillar which bears up the vault. To-morrow will I tear
it down and break it like a straw."
After which Renaud de Montauban cried with an oath:
"'Od's life! Count Ogier, whiles you overset the pillar, I will clap the
dome on my shoulders and hale it down to the seashore."
Gerard de Rousillon it was made the fifth brag.
He boasted he would uproot single-handed, in one hour, all the trees in
the Royal pleasaunce.
Aimer took up his parable when Gerard was done.
"I have a magic hat," said he, "made of a sea-calf's skin, which renders
me invisible. I will set it on my head, and to-morrow, whenas King Hugo
is seated at meat, I will eat up his fish and drink down his wine, I
will tweak his nose and buffet his ears. Not knowing whom or what
to blame, he will clap all his serving-men in gaol and scourge them
sore,--and we shall laugh."
"For me," declared Huon de Bordeaux, whose turn it was, "for me, I am
so nimble I will trip up to the King and cut off his beard and eyebrows
without his knowing aught about the matter. 'T is a piece of sport I
will show you to-morrow. And I shall have no need of a sea-calf hat
either!"
Doolin de Mayence made his brag too. He promised to eat up in one
hour all the figs and all the oranges and all the lemons in the King's
orchards.
Next the Due Naisme said in this wise:
"By my faith! _I_ will go into the banquet hall, I will catch up flagons
and cups of gold and fling them so high they will never light down again
save to tumble into the moon."
Bernard de Brabant then lifted his great voice:
"I will do better yet," he roared. "Ye know the river that flows by
Constantinople is broad and deep, for it is come nigh its mouth by then,
after traversing Egypt, Babylon, and the | 302.038932 | 1,454 |
2023-11-16 18:20:48.8361180 | 1,139 | 429 |
Produced by Larry Mittell and PG Distributed Proofreaders
BUNCH GRASS
A CHRONICLE OF LIFE ON A CATTLE RANCH
BY HORACE ANNESLEY VACHELL
AUTHOR OF "BROTHERS" "THE HILL" ETC. ETC.
1913
TO MY BROTHER
ARTHUR HONYWOOD VACHELL
I DEDICATE
THIS BOOK
FOREWORD
The author of _Bunch Grass_ ventures to hope that this book will
not be altogether regarded as mere flotsam and jetsam of English and
American magazines. The stories, it will be found, have a certain
continuity, and may challenge interest as apart from incident because
an attempt has been made to reproduce atmosphere, the atmosphere of a
country that has changed almost beyond recognition in three decades.
The author went to a wild California cow-country just thirty years
ago, and remained there seventeen years, during which period the land
from such pastoral uses as cattle and sheep-raising became subdivided
into innumerable small holdings. He beheld a new country in the
making, and the passing of the pioneer who settled vital differences
with a pistol. During those years some noted outlaws ranged at large
in the county here spoken of as San Lorenzo. The Dalton gang of train
robbers lived and died (some with their boots on) not far from the
village entitled Paradise. Stage coaches were robbed frequently. Every
large rancher suffered much at the hands of cattle and horse thieves.
The writer has talked to Frank James, the most famous of Western
desperados; he has enjoyed the acquaintance of Judge Lynch, who hanged
two men from a bridge within half-a-mile of the ranch-house; he
remembers the Chinese Riots; he has witnessed many a fight between the
hungry squatter and the old settler with no title to the leagues over
which his herds roamed, and so, in a modest way, he may claim to be a
historian, not forgetting that the original signification of the word
was a narrator of fables founded upon facts.
Apologies are tendered for the dialect to be found in these pages.
There is no Californian dialect. At the time of the discovery of gold,
the state was flooded with men from all parts of the world, and
dialects became inextricably mixed. Not even Bret Harte was able to
reproduce the talk of children whose fathers may have come from
Kentucky or Massachusetts, and their mothers from Louisiana.
Re-reading these chapters, with a more or less critical detachment,
and leaving them--good, bad and indifferent--as they were originally
printed, one is forced to the conclusion that sentiment--which would
seem to arouse what is most hostile in the cultivated dweller in
cities--is an all-pervading essence in primitive communities,
colouring and discolouring every phase of life and thought. One
instance among a thousand will suffice. Stage coaches, in the writer's
county, used to be held up, single-handed, by a highwayman, known as
Black Bart. All the foothill folk pleaded in extenuation of the robber
that he wrote a copy of verses, embalming his adventure, which he used
to pin to the nearest tree. Black Bart would have been shot on sight
had he presented his doggerel to any self-respecting Western editor;
nevertheless the sentiment that inspired a bandit to set forth his
misdeeds in execrable rhyme transformed him from a criminal into a
popular hero! The virtues that counted in the foothills during the
eighties were generosity, courage, and that amazing power of
recuperation which enables a man to begin life again and again,
undaunted by the bludgeonings of misfortune. Some of the stories in
this volume are obviously the work of an apprentice, but they have
been included because, however faulty in technique, they do serve to
illustrate a past that can never come back, and men and women who were
outwardly crude and illiterate but at core kind and chivalrous, and
nearly always humorously unconventional. The bunch grass, so beloved
by the patriarchal pioneers, has been ploughed up and destroyed; the
unwritten law of Judge Lynch will soon become an oral tradition; but
the Land of Yesterday blooms afresh as the Golden State of To-day--and
Tomorrow.
* * * * *
CONTENTS
CHAP.
I. ALETHEA-BELLE
II. THE DUMBLES
III. PAP SPOONER
IV. GLORIANA
V. BUMBLEPUPPY
VI. JASPERSON'S BEST GIRL
VII. FIFTEEN FAT STEERS
VIII. AN EXPERIMENT
IX. UNCLE <DW61>'S LILY
X. WILKINS AND HIS DINAH
XI. A POISONED SPRING
XII. THE BABE
XIII. THE BARON
XIV. JIM'S PUP
XV. MARY
XVI. OLD MAN BOBO'S MANDY
XVII. MINTIE
XVIII. ONE WHO DIED
XIX | 302.155528 | 1,455 |
2023-11-16 18:20:48.9252620 | 1,785 | 137 |
Produced by Ron Swanson
Vol. II. No. 1.
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE.
PUBLISHED BY THE
NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC SOCIETY.
WASHINGTON, D. C.
Price 50 Cents.
CONTENTS.
On the Telegraphic Determinations of Longitude by the Bureau of
Navigation: Lieut. J. A. Norris, U. S. N.
Reports of the Vice-Presidents:
Geography of the Land: Herbert G. Ogden
Geography of the Air: A. W. Greely, Chief Signal Officer, U. S. A.
Annual Report of the Treasurer
Report of Auditing Committee
Annual Report of the Secretary
National Geographic Society:
Abstract of Minutes
Officers for 1890
Members of the Society
Published April, 1890.
PRESS OF TUTTLE, MOREHOUSE & TAYLOR, NEW HAVEN, CONN.
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE.
Vol. II. 1890. No. 1.
ON THE TELEGRAPHIC DETERMINATIONS OF LONGITUDE BY THE BUREAU OF
NAVIGATION.
BY LIEUT. J. A. NORRIS, U. S. N.
The following definitions are given by Chauvenet in his Spherical and
Practical Astronomy.
"The longitude of a point on the earth's surface is the angle at the
Pole included between the meridian of that point and some assumed first
meridian. The difference of longitude between any two points is the
angle included between their meridians." To describe the practical
methods of obtaining this difference or angle, by means of the electric
telegraph both overland and submarine, and especially those employed by
the expeditions sent out by the Navy department, is the object of this
paper.
* * * * *
Before the invention of the telegraph various methods more or less
accurate in their results were employed, and are still in use where the
telegraph is not available. The one most used and giving the best
results was that in which a number of chronometers were transported
back and forth between two places the difference of whose longitudes
was required. "For," as the author quoted above says, "the
determination of an absolute longitude from the first meridian or of a
difference of longitude in general, resolves itself into the
determination of the difference of the time reckoned at the two
meridians at the same absolute instant." If a chronometer be regulated
to the time at any place _A_, and then transported to a second place
_B_, and the local time at _B_, be determined at any instant, and at
that instant the time at _A_, as shown by the chronometer is noted, the
difference of the times is at once known, and that is the difference of
longitude required. The principal objection to this plan is that the
best chronometers vary. If the variations were constant and regular,
and the chronometer always gained or lost a fixed amount for the same
interval of time, this objection would disappear. But the variation is
not constant, the rate of gain or loss, even in the best instruments,
changes from time to time from various causes. Some of these causes may
be discovered and allowed for in a measure, others are accidental and
unknown. Of the former class are variations due to changes of
temperature. At the Naval Observatory, chronometers are rated at
different temperatures, and the changes due thereto are noted, and
serve to a great extent as a guide in their use. But the transportation
of a chronometer, even when done with great care is liable to cause
sudden changes in its indications, and of course in carrying it long
distances, numerous shocks of greater or less violence are unavoidable.
Still, chronometric measurements, when well carried out with a number
of chronometers and skilled observers have been very successful. Among
notable expeditions of this sort was that undertaken in 1843, by Struve
between Pulkova and Altona, in which eighty-one chronometers were
employed and nine voyages made from Pulkova to Altona and eight the
other way. The results from thirteen of the chronometers were rejected
as being discordant, and the deduced longitude was made to depend on
the remaining 68. The result thus obtained differs from the latest
determination by 0^{s}.2.
The U. S. Coast Survey instituted chronometric expeditions between
Cambridge, Mass., and Liverpool, England, in the years 1849, '50, '51
and '55. The probable error of the results of six voyages, three in
each direction, in 1855 was 0^{s}.19, fifty chronometers being carried.
Among other methods of determining differences of time may be mentioned
the observation of certain celestial phenomena, which are visible at
the same absolute instant by observers in various parts of the globe,
such as the instant of the beginning or end of an eclipse of the moon,
the eclipses of Jupiter's satellites by the shadow of the planet, the
bursting of a meteor, and the appearance or disappearance of a shooting
star. The difficulty of identifying these last mentioned objects and
the impossibility of foretelling their occurrence prevents the extended
use of this method.
Terrestrial signals may be used and among these can be included those
sent by the electric telegraph. But when two stations are near together
a signal may be made at either or at an intermediate station, which can
be observed at both, the time may be noted at each of the stations and
the difference found directly. These signals may be made by flashes of
gunpowder, or the appearance and disappearance of a strong light, or a
pre-concerted movement of any object easily seen. The heliotrope
reflecting the image of the sun from one station to the other with an
arrangement for suddenly eclipsing it, is a useful and efficient
apparatus.
Various truly astronomical methods have been employed with good
results, of these may be mentioned moon-culminations, azimuths of the
moon, lunar distances, etc.
Coming now to the use of the electric telegraph for this purpose the
following is a rough outline of the methods employed. Suppose two
stations A and B connected by wire, and provided with clocks,
chronographs and transit instruments. A list of suitable fixed stars is
compiled and each observer furnished with a copy. The observer at A the
eastern station, selects a star from his list and sets his transit
instrument upon it. He is furnished with a key by which he can send
telegraphic signals over the line and also mark the time on his own
chronograph. The instant he observes the star crossing the spider line
which represents the meridian, he taps his key, thus registering the
time on his own chronograph and on that at station B and this operation
he repeats with as many stars as necessary. B has his instrument set
for the first star, and when it crosses his meridian, he taps his key
marking the time on his own chronograph and also on A's. Then,
disregarding instrumental and personal errors and the rate of the
clock, A has a record of the times at which the star passed both
meridians. The difference of these times is the difference of longitude
sought, except for an error due to the time occupied in the
transmission of the signal over the wire between the stations. B also
has a record of the same difference of time with the same error
affecting it in the opposite way. A mean of these two differences, will
be the true difference with the error of transmission eliminated. This
method has the advantage of not depending upon the computed position of
the star. The instrumental errors may be allowed for, as well as the
rate of the clocks, and the personal error may be eliminated by the
exchange of stations.
There are disadvantages inseparable from this method, however,
especially when the meridian distance is great. A star observed at the
first station, may be obscured by clouds at the time of its meridian
passage at the second. And the weather generally, at the two stations
may be cloudy, so that while stars can be observed at intervals, yet it
may be impossible to note the meridian passage of the same star at both
| 302.244672 | 1,456 |
2023-11-16 18:20:49.4255140 | 1,075 | 516 |
Produced by Charles Aldarondo. HTML version by Al Haines.
THE DESCENT OF MAN
AND OTHER STORIES
BY EDITH WHARTON
TABLE OF CONTENTS
THE DESCENT OF MAN, AND OTHER STORIES
The Descent of Man
The Other Two
Expiation
The Lady's Maid's Bell
The Mission of Jane
The Reckoning
The Letter
The Dilettante
The Quicksand
A Venetian Night's Entertainment
THE DESCENT OF MAN
I
When Professor Linyard came back from his holiday in the Maine woods
the air of rejuvenation he brought with him was due less to the
influences of the climate than to the companionship he had enjoyed on
his travels. To Mrs. Linyard's observant eye he had appeared to set out
alone; but an invisible traveller had in fact accompanied him, and if
his heart beat high it was simply at the pitch of his adventure: for
the Professor had eloped with an idea.
No one who has not tried the experiment can divine its exhilaration.
Professor Linyard would not have changed places with any hero of
romance pledged to a flesh-and-blood abduction. The most fascinating
female is apt to be encumbered with luggage and scruples: to take up a
good deal of room in the present and overlap inconveniently into the
future; whereas an idea can accommodate itself to a single molecule of
the brain or expand to the circumference of the horizon. The
Professor's companion had to the utmost this quality of adaptability.
As the express train whirled him away from the somewhat inelastic
circle of Mrs. Linyard's affections, his idea seemed to be sitting
opposite him, and their eyes met every moment or two in a glance of
joyous complicity; yet when a friend of the family presently joined him
and began to talk about college matters, the idea slipped out of sight
in a flash, and the Professor would have had no difficulty in proving
that he was alone.
But if, from the outset, he found his idea the most agreeable of
fellow-travellers, it was only in the aromatic solitude of the woods
that he tasted the full savour of his adventure. There, during the long
cool August days, lying full length on the pine-needles and gazing up
into the sky, he would meet the eyes of his companion bending over him
like a nearer heaven. And what eyes they were!--clear yet unfathomable,
bubbling with inexhaustible laughter, yet drawing their freshness and
sparkle from the central depths of thought! To a man who for twenty
years had faced an eye reflecting the obvious with perfect accuracy,
these escapes into the inscrutable had always been peculiarly inviting;
but hitherto the Professor's mental infidelities had been restricted by
an unbroken and relentless domesticity. Now, for the first time since
his marriage, chance had given him six weeks to himself, and he was
coming home with his lungs full of liberty.
It must not be inferred that the Professor's domestic relations were
defective: they were in fact so complete that it was almost impossible
to get away from them. It is the happy husbands who are really in
bondage; the little rift within the lute is often a passage to freedom.
Marriage had given the Professor exactly what he had sought in it; a
comfortable lining to life. The impossibility of rising to sentimental
crises had made him scrupulously careful not to shirk the practical
obligations of the bond. He took as it were a sociological view of his
case, and modestly regarded himself as a brick in that foundation on
which the state is supposed to rest. Perhaps if Mrs. Linyard had cared
about entomology, or had taken sides in the war over the transmission
of acquired characteristics, he might have had a less impersonal notion
of marriage; but he was unconscious of any deficiency in their
relation, and if consulted would probably have declared that he didn't
want any woman bothering with his beetles. His real life had always
lain in the universe of thought, in that enchanted region which, to
those who have lingered there, comes to have so much more colour and
substance than the painted curtain hanging before it. The Professor's
particular veil of Maia was a narrow strip of homespun woven in a
monotonous pattern; but he had only to lift it to step into an empire.
This unseen universe was thronged with the most seductive shapes: the
Professor moved Sultan-like through a seraglio of ideas. But of all the
lovely apparitions that wove their spells about him, none had ever worn
quite so persuasive an aspect as this latest favourite. For the others
were mostly rather grave companions, serious-minded and elevating
enough to have passed muster in a Ladies' Debating Club; but this new
fancy of the Professor's was simply one embodied laugh. It was, in
other words | 302.744924 | 1,457 |
2023-11-16 18:20:49.4270620 | 1,179 | 511 |
Produced by Sandra Laythorpe
SINTRAM AND HIS COMPANIONS
By Friedrich de la Motte Fouque
with foreword by Charlotte M. Yonge
Introduction
Four tales are, it is said, intended by the Author to be appropriate to
the Four Seasons: the stern, grave "Sintram", to winter; the tearful,
smiling, fresh "Undine", to Spring; the torrid deserts of the "Two
Captains", to summer; and the sunset gold of "Aslauga's Knight", to
autumn. Of these two are before us.
The author of these tales, as well as of many more, was Friedrich, Baron
de la Motte Fouque, one of the foremost of the minstrels or tale-tellers
of the realm of spiritual chivalry--the realm whither Arthur's knights
departed when they "took the Sancgreal's holy quest,"--whence Spenser's
Red Cross knight and his fellows came forth on their adventures, and in
which the Knight of la Mancha believed, and endeavoured to exist.
La Motte Fouque derived his name and his title from the French Huguenot
ancestry, who had fled on the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. His
Christian name was taken from his godfather, Frederick the Great,
of whom his father was a faithful friend, without compromising his
religious principles and practice. Friedrich was born at Brandenburg on
February 12, 1777, was educated by good parents at home, served in the
Prussian army through disaster and success, took an enthusiastic part
in the rising of his country against Napoleon, inditing as many
battle-songs as Korner. When victory was achieved, he dedicated his
sword in the church of Neunhausen where his estate lay. He lived there,
with his beloved wife and his imagination, till his death in 1843.
And all the time life was to him a poet's dream. He lived in a continual
glamour of spiritual romance, bathing everything, from the old deities
of the Valhalla down to the champions of German liberation, in an ideal
glow of purity and nobleness, earnestly Christian throughout, even in
his dealings with Northern mythology, for he saw Christ unconsciously
shown in Baldur, and Satan in Loki.
Thus he lived, felt, and believed what he wrote, and though his dramas
and poems do not rise above fair mediocrity, and the great number of his
prose stories are injured by a certain monotony, the charm of them is
in their elevation of sentiment and the earnest faith pervading all. His
knights might be Sir Galahad--
"My strength is as the strength of ten,
Because my heart is pure."
Evil comes to them as something to be conquered, generally as a form of
magic enchantment, and his "wondrous fair maidens" are worthy of them.
Yet there is adventure enough to afford much pleasure, and often we have
a touch of true genius, which has given actual ideas to the world, and
precious ones.
This genius is especially traceable in his two masterpieces, Sintram and
Undine. Sintram was inspired by Albert Durer's engraving of the "Knight
of Death," of which we give a presentation. It was sent to Fouque by his
friend Edward Hitzig, with a request that he would compose a ballad
on it. The date of the engraving is 1513, and we quote the description
given by the late Rev. R. St. John Tyrwhitt, showing how differently it
may be read.
"Some say it is the end of the strong wicked man, just overtaken by
Death and Sin, whom he has served on earth. It is said that the tuft on
the lance indicates his murderous character, being of such unusual size.
You know the use of that appendage was to prevent blood running down
from the spearhead to the hands. They also think that the object under
the horse's off hind foot is a snare, into which the old oppressor is
to fall instantly. The expression of the faces may be taken either way:
both good men and bad may have hard, regular features; and both good men
and bad would set their teeth grimly on seeing Death, with the sands of
their life nearly run out. Some say they think the expression of Death
gentle, or only admonitory (as the author of "Sintram"); and I have to
thank the authoress of the "Heir of Redclyffe" for showing me a fine
impression of the plate, where Death certainly had a not ungentle
countenance--snakes and all. I think the shouldered lance, and quiet,
firm seat on horseback, with gentle bearing on the curb-bit, indicate
grave resolution in the rider, and that a robber knight would have his
lance in rest; then there is the leafy crown on the horse's head; and
the horse and dog move on so quietly, that I am inclined to hope the
best for the Ritter."
Musing on the mysterious engraving, Fouque saw in it the life-long
companions of man, Death and Sin, whom he must defy in order to reach
salvation; and out of that contemplation rose his wonderful romance,
not exactly an allegory, where every circumstance can be fitted with an
appropriate meaning, but with the sense of the struggle of life, with
external temptation and | 302.746472 | 1,458 |
2023-11-16 18:20:49.4923780 | 1,065 | 439 |
Produced by Paul Haxo from page images graciously made
available by the Internet Archive and the University of
California.
SINGLE LIFE;
A COMEDY,
In Three Acts,
BY
JOHN BALDWIN BUCKSTONE, ESQ.,
(MEMBER OF THE DRAMATIC AUTHORS' SOCIETY,)
AS PERFORMED AT THE
THEATRE ROYAL, HAY-MARKET.
CORRECTLY PRINTED FROM THE PROMPTER'S COPY, WITH THE
CAST OF CHARACTERS, COSTUME, SCENIC ARRANGEMENT,
SIDES OF ENTRANCE AND EXIT, AND RELATIVE
POSITIONS OF THE DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
SPLENDIDLY ILLUSTRATED WITH AN ETCHING,
BY PIERCE EGAN, THE YOUNGER, FROM A DRAWING TAKEN
DURING THE REPRESENTATION.
LONDON:
CHAPMAN AND HALL, 186, STRAND.
"NASSAU STEAM PRESS,"
W. S. JOHNSON, 6, NASSAU STREET, SOHO.
Dramatis Personae and Costume.
_First produced, Tuesday, July 23rd, 1839._
BACHELORS.
MR. JOHN NIGGLE _(A fluctuating bachelor.)_ }
Light drab coat, white waistcoat, nankeen } MR. WEBSTER.
pantaloons, white stockings, shoes, white wig }
tied in a tail, white hat }
MR. DAVID DAMPER _(A woman-hating bachelor.)_ }
Brown coat with black horn buttons, old }
fashioned dark figured silk waistcoat, black } MR. STRICKLAND.
pantaloons, hessian boots, iron-grey wig, }
broad-brimmed hat }
MR. PETER PINKEY _(A bashful bachelor.)_ }
Lavender coloured coat, white waistcoat, }
white trowsers, pink socks, pumps, pink silk } MR. BUCKSTONE.
neckerchief, pink gloves, pink watch ribbon, }
low crowned hat and cane, flaxen fashionably }
dressed wig }
MR. NARCISSUS BOSS _(A self-loving }
bachelor.)_ Fashionable chocolate-coloured }
Newmarket coat with roses in the buttonhole, }
elegantly flowered waistcoat, light drab } MR. W. LACY.
French trowsers with boots, light blue cravat }
exquisitely tied, frilled shirt, hat, and }
wristbands a la D'Orsay, and the hair dressed }
in the first style of elegance }
MR. CHARLES CHESTER _(A mysterious }
bachelor.)_ Dark frock coat, silk waistcoat, } MR. HEMMING.
light trowsers, French gaiters and shoes, }
round hat }
SPINSTERS.
MISS CAROLINE COY _(A vilified spinster.)_ }
Grey silk dress, laced shawl and white } MRS. W. CLIFFORD.
ribbons, white satin bonnet, flowers, long }
yellow gloves, white reticule }
MISS MARIA MACAW _(A man-hating spinster.)_ }
Green silk open dress, white petticoat, }
figured satin large apron, lace handkerchief, } MRS. GLOVER.
close lace cap and white ribbons, fan, and }
black rimmed spectacles }
MISS KITTY SKYLARK _(A singing spinster.)_ }
White muslin pelisse over blue, chip hat and } MRS. FITZWILLIAM.
flowers. _(2nd dress.)_ Pink satin and blond }
flounces }
MISS SARAH SNARE _(An insinuating }
spinster.)_, _1st dress._ White muslin }
petticoat, black velvet spencer, pink satin } MRS. DANSON.
high-crowned bonnet and green feathers. _(2nd }
dress.)_ Green satin and pink ribbons, black }
wig dressed in high French bows }
MISS JESSY MEADOWS _(A romantic spinster.)_ }
White muslin dress mittens. _(2nd dress in } MISS TRAVERS.
the last scene.)_ White lace over white satin }
with roses }
Time of representation, 2 hours.
EXPLANATION OF THE STAGE DIRECTIONS.
L. means first entrance, left. R. first entrance, right. S.E.L. second
entrance, left. S.E.R. second entrance, right. U.E.L. upper entrance,
left. U.E.R. upper entrance, right. C. centre, L.C. left centre. R.C.
right centre. T.E.L. third entrance, left. T.E.R. third entrance,
right. Observing you are supposed to face the audience.
ADVERTISEMENT.
"SINGLE LIFE" is intended as a companion picture to the same author's | 302.811788 | 1,459 |
2023-11-16 18:20:49.6952900 | 1,230 | 413 |
Produced by Julia Miller, KD Weeks and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:
A number of printer's errors have been corrected. However, most
spelling variants are left as printed, except where the likelihood
of an error seems strong; (e.g. emcamped/encamped, ryhme/rhyme).
Consult the Notes at the end of this text for specific corrections.
Schoolcraft renders Indian language in English characters using his
own conventions. Therefore, the printed spelling of these words has
been observed as printed, with only several exceptions, where it
seems very clear from adjacent spellings that there have been
printer's errors. The figure 8 is set horizontally to represent a
phonetic sound. In this text these characters are simulated by [oo]
and [OO] for lower- and upper-case. The 'oe' ligature is rendered
as [oe] in transliteration but simply 'oe' elsewhere ('aesofoedita',
'manoeuvre').
The text of pages 286 and 287 are printed in reverse order.
Although pagination is continuous, there is at least one page of
text missing before the text beginning on p. 288. At p. 300, the
text again ends abruptly, with a new section beginning on p. 301.
THE INDIAN IN HIS WIGWAM,
OR
CHARACTERISTICS
OF THE
RED RACE OF AMERICA
FROM ORIGINAL NOTES AND MANUSCRIPTS.
BY HENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT,
Memb. Royal Geographical Society of London, and of the Royal Society
of Northern Antiquaries, Copenhagen; Hon. Memb. of the Natural
History Society of Montreal, Canada East; Memb. of the American
Philosophical Society, Philadelphia; of the American Antiquarian
Society, Worcester; of the American Geological Society, New Haven;
Vice-President of the American Ethnological Society, New York; Hon.
Memb. of the New York Historical Society; Hon. Memb. of the
Historical Society of Georgia; President of the Michigan Historical
Society; and Hon. Memb. of the Ohio Historical and Philosophical
Society; Cor. Memb. of the New York Lyceum of Natural History, and
of the Lyceums of Natural History of Troy and Hudson, N. Y.; Memb of
the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia; of the Albany
Institute at the State Capitol, Albany, and a Res. Memb. of the
National Institute at Washington; President of the Algic Society for
meliorating the condition of the Native Race in the United States,
instituted in 1831; Hon. Memb. of the Goethean and of the Philo L.
Collegiate Societies of Pennsylvania, &c. &c.
BUFFALO:
DERBY & HEWSON, PUBLISHERS.
AUBURN--DERBY, MILLER & CO.
1848.
PERSONAL REMINISCENCES.
It is now twenty-six years since I first entered the area of the
Mississippi valley, with the view of exploring its then but imperfectly
known features, geographical and geological. Twenty-two years of this
period have elapsed since I entered on the duties of an Executive Agent
for the United States Government in its higher northern latitudes among
the Indian tribes in the west. Having devoted so large a portion of my
life in an active sphere, in which the intervals of travel left me
favourable opportunities of pursuing the languages and history of this
branch of the race, it appears to be a just expectation, that, in
sitting down to give some account of this people, there should be some
preliminary remarks, to apprise the reader how and why it is, that his
attention is recalled to a topic which he may have supposed to be well
nigh exhausted. This it is proposed to do by some brief personal
reminiscences, beginning at the time above alluded to.
The year 1814 constituted a crisis, not only in our political history,
but also in our commercial, manufacturing, and industrial interests. The
treaty of Ghent, which put a period to the war with England, was a
blessing to many individuals and classes in America: but, in its
consequences, it had no small share of the effects of a curse upon that
class of citizens who were engaged in certain branches of manufactures.
It was a peculiarity of the crisis, that these persons had been
stimulated by double motives, to invest their capital and skill in the
perfecting and establishment of the manufactories referred to, by the
actual wants of the country and the high prices of the foreign articles.
No pains and no cost had been spared, by many of them, to supply this
demand; and it was another result of the times, that no sooner had they
got well established, and were in the high road of prosperity than the
peace came and plunged them headlong from the pinnacle of success. This
blow fell heavier upon some branches than others. It was most fatal to
those manufacturers who had undertaken to produce fabrics of the highest
order, or which belong to an advanced state of the manufacturing
prosperity of a nation. Be this as it may, however, it fell with
crushing force upon that branch in which I was engaged. As soon as the
American ports were opened to these fabrics, the foreign makers who
could undersell us, poured in cargo on cargo; and when the first demands
had been met, these cargoes | 303.0147 | 1,460 |
2023-11-16 18:20:49.9164220 | 1,314 | 164 |
Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Neville Allen,
Malcolm Farmer and the Online Distributed Proofreading
Team at http://www.pgdp.net
PUNCH,
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 147.
OCTOBER 28, 1914.
CHARIVARIA.
Reports that Germany is not best pleased with Austria-Hungary are
peculiarly persistent just now. There would indeed seem to be good
grounds for Germany's displeasure, for a gentleman just returned from
Budapest says that the Hungarian MINISTER OF THE INTERIOR has actually
issued an official circular to the mayors and prefects throughout the
land enjoining upon them the duty of treating citizens of hostile states
sojourning in their midst with humanity and sympathy.
* * *
Inquisitive people are asking, "What is the KAISER'S quarrel with the
Bavarians?" He is reported to have said, the other day, "My wish for the
English is that one day they will have to fight the Bavarians."
* * *
The King of BAVARIA, by the way, has been operated upon for a swelling
of the shoulder blade. We are glad to hear that he is progressing
favourably, and it is hoped that the swelling will not, as in the case
of another distinguished patient, spread to the head.
* * *
For the following little story we are indebted to the German
army:--"Fears are now entertained of an epidemic breaking out among the
German troops in Antwerp, as, the German artillery having destroyed the
municipal waterworks, there is no drinkable water available."
* * *
Several striking suggestions have reached the authorities in connection
with the danger from Zeppelins. One is that St. Paul's Cathedral and
Westminster Abbey should be covered over with dark cloths every night,
and that shoddy reproductions of these edifices should be run up in
another part of London, and be brilliantly illuminated so as to attract
the attention of the enemy.
* * *
Another method of confusing the airships, it is pointed out, would be to
drain the Thames, and to flood a great thoroughfare, say that from the
Bank to Shepherd's Bush, and to place barges on it so that it would be
mistaken for the river and cause the airmen to lose their bearings.
* * *
Meanwhile the authorities who are responsible for the safety of London
are said to be anxious to hear of an intrepid airman who will undertake
to paint out the moon.
* * *
There are, of course, always pessimists among us, but we would beg the
editor of _The Barmouth and County Advertiser_ to try not to be
downhearted. Impressed, no doubt, by the recent sale of two German
warships to Turkey, he gives voice to the following opinion in a
leader:--"Our Fleet to-day is supreme; but no one knows when an auction
may take place...."
* * *
It has suddenly become more imperative than ever that the War should be
finished quickly. A publishing firm has issued the first volume of a
history of the war with an announcement that it will be completed in
four volumes at a fixed price. If the war should last longer than a year
the last volume threatens to achieve such a size that the publisher
would either have to go back on his word or be ruined.
* * *
The L.C.C. has just produced a new, revised, up-to-date and fully
detailed map of London, and the German War Office is furious to think
that it has been put to the needless expense of compiling a similar
document itself.
* * *
It has been pointed out that the War has had a most satisfactory effect
on criminality. And even in civil actions witnesses would seem to be
turning over a new leaf, and even insisting on giving evidence against
themselves. For example, we learn from _The Northwood Gazette_ that a
van driver, charged the other day with damaging a motor-car, said in
cross-examination:--"I pulled up about fifteen years after the accident
happened."
* * *
In spite of the War our Law Courts pursue the even tenour of their way,
and the Divisional Court has just been asked to decide the important
question, Is ice-cream meat? Personally we should say that, where it is
made from unfiltered water, the answer is in the affirmative.
* * *
"DE WET OF THE SEA."
_Daily Mail._
We should have thought this well-known characteristic was hardly worth
mentioning.
* * *
"DISGUISED SPIES"
was the title of a paragraph in a contemporary last week. These cases
must surely be exceptional. We always think of spies as wearing a
recognised uniform, or at least a label to indicate their profession.
* * *
"CORK STEAMER SUNK BY MINE."--_Evening News._
This war is shattering many of our illusions.
* * *
Mr. FRED EMNEY, who is now appearing at the Coliseum, would like it to
be known that he is not an Alien Emney.
* * * * *
Illustration: "IT'S ALL VERY WELL, JARGE, FOR YOU T' SAY WHY DON'T
KITCHENER AN' FRENCH DO THIS AN' THAT? BUT WHAT I SAY IS, IT DON'T DO
FOR YOU AN' ME T' SAY ANYTHINK WHAT MIGHT EMBARRASS EITHER OF 'EM."
* * * * *
THE NEW CENSORSHIP.
"The country in which so much interest centres may be briefly
described. From near ---- to ---- and onwards in a south-easterly
direction there is a low range of chalky hills, closely resembling
our South Downs. There is no harm in saying definitely that not a
German is on this line."--_Daily Telegraph._
No apparent harm, but you can't be too careful. If the news gets round
to the Germans that they | 303.235832 | 1,461 |
2023-11-16 18:20:49.9588990 | 1,029 | 71 |
Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images available at The Internet Archive)
CAMBRIDGE
AGENTS
AMERICA THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
64 & 66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK
AUSTRALASIA THE OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
205 FLINDERS LANE, MELBOURNE
CANADA THE MACMILLAN COMPANY OF CANADA, LTD.
ST. MARTIN'S HOUSE, 70 BOND STREET, TORONTO
INDIA MACMILLAN & COMPANY, LTD.
MACMILLAN BUILDING, BOMBAY
309 BOW BAZAAR STREET, CALCUTTA
[Illustration]
[Illustration: THE BRIDGE OF SIGHS, ST. JOHN'S COLLEGE
This Bridge joins the Third Court with the Fourth or New Court. The
building on the right, seen through the bridge, is the Library, and
dates back to 1624.]
CAMBRIDGE
BY
M. A. R. TUKER
AUTHOR OF PARTS II. AND III. AND JOINT-AUTHOR OF PARTS I. AND IV. OF THE
HANDBOOK TO CHRISTIAN AND ECCLESIASTICAL ROME, AND
JOINT-AUTHOR OF 'ROME' IN THIS SERIES
PAINTED BY
WILLIAM MATTHISON
[Illustration]
LONDON
ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK
1907
_Published May 1907_
Preface
"Of making many books there is no end." When I set about writing this
book I was ready to believe that the University had not its fair share
of the literary output. Cambridge indeed does not appear to suggest,
does not lend itself to, the numberless little brochures or hymns of
praise which accompany the honoured years of the sister university; in
weighty tomes and valuable _collectanea_ of MSS., however, it possesses
works (such as Cooper's Annals, the Cole and Baker MSS., and Willis and
Clark's Architectural History) not possessed by Oxford and unrivalled,
perhaps, by any English town.
In the middle of last century the invaluable Fuller was the most readily
accessible authority, but the last thirty years have seen the
publication of the monumental work of Messieurs Willis and Clark, and of
the History of the University by Mr. J. Bass Mullinger, while at the
same time the slighter literature of the subject has not been
neglected.
Nevertheless there is room, I hope, for a short book on the present
lines.
It is, I believe, the first time that a chapter on the women's colleges
has anywhere appeared, and certainly the first time that such a chapter
forms part of an account of the University. I have taken pains to
authenticate the description here given, for events which occurred
thirty--even twenty--years back are now fading out of remembrance and
some of those who took part in them are no longer with us.
A first and last chapter on the origin of universities and on the sister
universities have been omitted for the purposes of this volume.
The pleasantest part of my task still remains to be performed--to thank
all those, both in and out of Cambridge, who have kindly afforded me
facilities, have obtained information on innumerable points, or
lightened my labours by lending books. In addition to this welcome
assistance my thanks are specially due to Mr. J. Willis Clark, late
fellow of Trinity, and Registrary of the University, for sparing time to
read the proof sheets of Chapters I. and II.--for sparing time and not
sparing trouble; to the Master of Peterhouse and to Dr. A. W. Verrall
(fellow and late tutor of Trinity) for reading the proof sheets of
portions of Chapter II. and portions of Chapter III.; to Mr. C. W. Moule
fellow and librarian of Corpus Christi, Mr. Ellis H. Minns
assistant-librarian, and late fellow, of Pembroke, to Miss M. G.
Kennedy, and to the Mistress of Girton; to the Assistant Keeper of MSS.
at the British Museum, and the Librarian at Lambeth; to Lord Francis
Hervey and Sir Ernest Clarke who kindly supplied some annotated
references to the school at Bury from the Curteys Register, and last but
not least to the Rev. H. F. Stewart (chaplain of Trinity) and Mrs.
Stewart, the former of whom has been good enough to read portions of the
proof sheets of Chapter IV.
| 303.278309 | 1,462 |
2023-11-16 18:20:50.0714790 | 4,073 | 36 |
Produced by Dianna Adair, Goncalo Silva and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
[Illustration: A LIFETIMER'S CELL]
_After Prison--What?_
_By
Maud Ballington Booth_
[Illustration: Logo]
_New York Chicago Toronto
Fleming H. Revell Company
London and Edinburgh_
Copyright, 1903, by
FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY
(_September_)
New York: 158 Fifth Avenue
Chicago: 63 Washington Street
Toronto: 27 Richmond Street, W
London: 21 Paternoster Square
Edinburgh: 30 St. Mary Street
_DEDICATION_
_Lovingly dedicated to our boys in prison by
their Little Mother
who
believes in them and looks with confidence
to a bright, victorious future
when they shall have lived down
the old, sad record, stormed the walls
of prejudice,
wrested just recognition from the skeptical
and
answered convincingly the question,
"can a convict be reformed?"_
Preface
This message from my pen is not a work on criminology or penology.
No gathering of statistics, nor comparative study of the works or
theories of learned authorities on these subjects will be found within
its pages. It is just a plea from the heart of one who knows them, for
those who cannot voice to the world their own thoughts and feelings. We
ask no sentimental sympathy or pity, no patronage or charity, but only
understanding, justice, and fair play.
My point of view is that of the cell. All I know of this great sad
problem that casts its shadow so much further than the high walls of
prison I have learned from those for whom I work, and my great joy in
every labor is the knowledge that "the boys" are with me. In speaking
of them thus I do so in prison parlance; for just as Masons on the
floor call each other "Brothers"; soldiers in camp "Comrades"; men in
college "Fellows"; so we of the prison use the term "The Boys," and
leave unspoken that hated word "Convict," which seems to vibrate with
the sound of clanging chains and shuffling lock-step.
If I do not write of others, who, during the past century, have worked
in prison reform, it is not that I have disregarded their efforts,
but as this is a record of what I have personally seen and learned,
space and time will not permit the recording of experiences which can
doubtless be read elsewhere.
In sending forth these pages of personal experience I pray that
they may stir the hearts of the free, the happy, and the fortunate
throughout our dear country, that they, in their turn, may champion the
cause of those who cannot fight their own battle, giving to them the
practical help that they so sorely need.
Contents
I. GOLD IN THE MINE 11
II. "REMEMBER ME" 29
III. THE VOLUNTEER PRISON LEAGUE 48
IV. THE POWER BEHIND THE WORK 81
V. LETTERS FROM THE "BOYS" 103
VI. UNWELCOMED HOME-COMING 115
VII. WELCOMED HOME 141
VIII. THE SAME STORY FROM OTHER PENS 170
IX. LIFE STORIES 194
X. WIVES AND MOTHERS 217
XI. SANTA CLAUS RESURRECTED 241
XII. PRISON REFORM 255
XIII. DOES IT PAY? 273
After Prison What?
I
GOLD IN THE MINE
Long before the discovery of gold in Australasia, geologists had
pronounced the strata auriferous. They had propounded to the world
their theories and scientific conclusions on the subject. Those
who read undoubtedly gave respectful credence to their interesting
treatises because of the learning of the writers, and then as quickly
forgot the facts that had not very strongly appealed to any personal
interest. No one thought it worth while to sell out business, and leave
home to risk or venture anything on the theories advanced. The gold lay
there untouched until one day some shepherds from the bush came into
Melbourne and displayed fragments of rock encrusted with glittering
yellow particles which were found to be pure gold. After that people
believed, for they had seen and to almost all the world "seeing is
believing." The shepherds knew nothing of geology. They could not
speak of the strata, but they had found and could show the gold, and
in their footsteps tens of thousands followed in the great rush that
opened up the mines and sent forth to the world the vast wealth that
had lain hidden for ages.
Many who have faith in the hopefulness of all human nature have
believed and told the world of their belief in the possible reformation
of criminals. They have argued that every soul is precious in the eyes
of the great Father in heaven, and that beneath the stain and dross of
crime and sin must always be some grain of gold worth redeeming. Their
great difficulty is to convince those who are hopeless as to human
nature and who, seeing very vividly the evil, have not the discernment
to see beneath it any possible good.
To the world at large a State Prison has been looked upon as an abode
of the utterly evil, depraved and good-for-nothing. In the slums are
the unfortunate victims of drink, the helpless poor and straying
ones who can still be sought and saved, but in the prisons are those
whose lives are spoiled and ruined beyond repair. Many of course give
the subject no thought and their prejudices are the result of utter
ignorance. Others form their conceptions from the sensational accounts
of notorious criminals whose deeds have been exploited in the press.
Some, perhaps, base their unfavorable judgment on the theories advanced
against the possibility of reforming the criminal, and speak as if our
prisons were full of perverted degenerates, at the mention of whom it
is proper to shudder and about whom one can speak as of some species of
human animal quite alien to the common thoughts, feelings, instincts
and possibilities which are possessed by denizens of the outside world.
How truly may it be said that prejudice builds a higher, thicker wall
around our prisoners than those of brick and stone within which the
law has placed them. Naturally in my extensive travels all over this
country and my personal contact with people of every description, I
have had ample opportunity to gauge the thought and feeling of the
world towards those in whom I am so deeply interested, and, though
during the last few years I have seen with joy a very marked change of
feeling, there is yet much gross miscomprehension of the whole subject.
Those of us who have become familiar with the question on the inside of
the walls have found a veritable gold mine of possibility. We realize
fully however that it is only when they see this gold for themselves
that the world will lay aside its doubting for faith in the future
of these men and, casting to the wind prejudice, will stretch out a
friendly hand of good-will to those who come forth from the testing
furnace.
We realized in the early years of its history that such a work as
the one of which I write could only be seen and appreciated by the
world at large in the years of the future when our "boys" had come
back into liberty and had had time to prove the genuineness of their
purpose. Already this day has dawned, and all over the country the
forerunners of the thousands still to come are proving that the work is
no experiment, though naturally many have neither seen them nor looked
into the lives of those still in prison. It is hard to make the wholly
uninformed concede that any good thing can come from such a place.
Many a time when talking to friends after some drawing-room gathering,
at a dinner table or in the cars, they will say with a look of almost
compassion, "But are you not afraid to talk with these men? Is it not
very dreadful to have to come into contact with them?" I try to explain
that they are my friends, that the respect, courtesy and attention I
receive from them could not be excelled in any circle of society; but
the raised eyebrows and incredulous looks tell plainly that I have not
answered the question, simply because to their minds all criminals
are of the same stamp as Tracy, the James brothers and Czolgosz.
They cannot conceive of men of education, refinement or gentlemanly
instincts in prison.
Constantly I am asked, "But how can you talk to these men; what can
you say; how do you touch or appeal to such an audience?" I answer,
"Precisely as I should to any lecture audience or from the pulpit of
any fashionable church." I am talking, not to the criminal with the
theft of a pocketbook or with manslaughter, burglary or murder on his
record but to the man, to the soul, the heart. It is just here that a
grave error could be made. If we always associate the prisoner with his
crime, with the stripes, the cell, the surroundings, we get wofully
far away from him and even find ourselves beyond the point where we
can reach him at all. The crime was one incident of his life, his
imprisonment is but the fact of to-day. Before he was a prisoner he
was a man, and in the future world he will be simply a man, so why not
talk to him and think of him as a man to-day. A lady was recently being
shown over a penal institution (which will remain nameless save to say
that it was not a state prison), and the officer who was explaining
the system took her from room to room that she might understand their
regime. He showed off company after company as a professor might
exhibit specimens in the different classes of zoology, talking of them
loudly in their hearing. At last coming to one of the lower grades he
said, "You will note the inferior intelligence of these men, their
poorer development. These are much lower in mental and moral capacity
and there is very little hope for them. They are many of them very
degraded and seem devoid of moral instinct." Certain malformed heads
and many poorly nourished bodies were pointed out and all this while
these classified animals stood listening. How should we like such an
experience? What thoughts passed through those minds, what fierce hate,
what hopeless despair may not have swept over them as they listened to
the summing up of their case?
Prison communities come from no uncivilized island where they form
a different species of the human family nor are they drawn from one
section of the population confined to the slums. They are from the
great, wide world at large. Some have had homes of ease and comfort
and have been educated in our finest colleges and schools. Society
gives its quota, so does the great world of the common people, while
yet others come from homes of poverty and some from no homes at all.
There are the educated and the ignorant, the rich and the poor, the
industrious and the idle, the brilliant and the poorly endowed. In
fact our audiences in Prison are much like the audiences that we meet
in the free world, save that their hearts are sore and sensitive and
that that great shadow of suffering, the awful loss of liberty, has
brought anguish, despair and shame to quicken every feeling. Nowhere
have I found audiences more attentive, earnest and intelligent than
in prison and I find all who have had any experience will compare
them most favorably with those of the outside. One thing is very
evident--superficiality, seeming and artificiality have been swept away
by the close and bitter contact with life, hence the real man is easier
to recognize and reach. They in their turn are quick to read and judge
the speaker behind the subject, the faith behind the doctrine.
Another gross misconception is the belief that all men in prison are
dishonest. People forget how many and devious are the causes for which
men can be imprisoned. Sometimes when I have asked a business man to
employ one of our "boys" the answer has been, "I am in sympathy with
your work and pity these poor fellows, but in my business I dare not
do it as there would be opportunities to steal and it would not be
right to those whose interests I must protect." This has shown me how
constantly the thought of theft and robbery is associated with all
who come from prison. There are many within the walls who have never
misappropriated a cent. This does not mean they are guiltless, for
their crime may have very justly brought them to conviction but there
is no reason to imagine that because of that punishment they must be
ranked as dishonest.
Then there are those within prison walls who, though evil well nigh all
their lives, claim our sincerest pity. They may have done desperate
deeds, may perhaps be ranked as habitual criminals and may represent
to-day the most hardened and determined offenders and yet in strict
justice they should not be spoken of with harsh condemnation, before
the sad pages of their lives have been read. The judge and jury take
cognizance only of the offense; the police and prison record note the
list of charges and the number of returns to prison but those of us
who seek to know the man beneath the criminal have a right to go back
and ask ourselves, "What chance did this man have to do right, to act
and to be as we are?" The answer sometimes is a pathetic revelation
of a loveless babyhood and childhood where blows and curses took the
place of kiss and caress; a youth where revolt against society in
an embittered heart made it easy to develop every evil tendency and
to follow the lead of those in the under-world who proved the only
possible friends and associates.
Many, many letters have I received from just this class of prisoner. I
remember especially one that spoke of such a history. It was written
just after my first visit to Joliet State Prison and was in the
natural unrestrained language of one who had never learned the art of
deftly turning sentences. He began with an apology for bad spelling and
poor writing in which he explained that it was the first letter he had
attempted to write in seven years, for he had no one in the world who
cared whether he lived or died. Then he thanked me for what I had said
to them Sunday, adding, "You said you loved us. Nobody ever said that
to me before in my whole life and I hardly know what the word means.
You spoke of home. The nearest approach to it I ever had was my time
in the kitchen of one of the state prisons where the officer was very
kind to me." Briefly this was his story. He was born in a poorhouse
in Ireland and never knew father or mother and received in childhood
no touch of love or sympathy. When still very young he was sent out
to work and soon found evil companionship and was led into trouble.
He came out to this country only to continue on the same path which
was in fact the only path he had ever known. It naturally led him to
state prison and his whole life here has been spent within the walls
except for the few short holidays in the slums between the day of his
discharge and the next arrest. All through the letter I could see that
he had never dreamed there was another life for him. He confessed he
had never tried to be good, had had no inducement or chance to be
so. Very pathetic to me was the closing sentence in which he said,
"Now that I know somebody cares, I will try." Let me diverge from my
point enough to add that he made a success of the effort and became
an earnest member of our League. On his discharge from prison he had
a happy experience at our Home and from there launched out into a new
life. He soon proved himself a good workman and in time became the
possessor of a happy little home of his own and has for several years
been a useful member of society.
I have mentioned but one but I could fill a volume with such stories. I
do not think that the happy and fortunate in this life need look upon
it as foolish sentimentality to pity the prisoners. Surely our pity
is no more misspent upon them than upon the heathen for they too have
never seen the light that they might follow it.
A young man came not long since to our Home. He was a poorly developed,
broken-spirited, frightened looking boy. His parents died when he
and his brothers and sisters were very young. He was brought up in a
juvenile asylum, bound out to people who were hard on him, ran away
and herded with criminals. He never knew home, love, sympathy or
friendship. Our Home was the first true home he had ever known. It
took weeks to work a change in the physical, mental and moral attitude
of the man but when the change commenced it was wonderful to notice
how he developed. Naturally he became devotedly attached to the one
bright happy spot in a very sad and gloomy life. When we sent him out
to his first position which was some way from the Home, he broke down
and sobbed like a child whose vacation is over and he was so utterly
homesick that those who had offered him employment had to return him to
us so that we could place him somewhere nearer the Home, for, as they
wrote, they feared that his homesickness was incurable.
Again wholesale condemnation should be withheld by the thought that
there are some innocent men within prison walls. It is natural that
justice should sometimes miscarry and yet alas, the stigma and brand
remain with the man even after his innocence has been proved. A man
was sentenced to life imprisonment for murder and served sixteen and a
half years. Most of the evidence had been purely circumstantial and he
was convicted mainly on the testimony of one witness. He was only saved
from the gallows by the earnest efforts of those who had known of his
previous good character. Last winter the woman who had borne witness
against him came to what she believed to be her deathbed and sending
for the priest she confessed that she had committed perjury. The matter
being brought to the Governor, the man was at once liberated. | 303.390889 | 1,463 |
2023-11-16 18:20:50.2064450 | 1,051 | 420 |
Produced by Al Haines.
IN MEMORABILIA MORTIS
BY FRANCIS SHERMAN
[Illustration: Decoration]
M DCCC XCVI
"BUT YE--SHALL I BEHOLD YOU WHEN LEAVES FALL,
IN SOME SAD EVENING OP THE AUTUMN-TIDE?"
IN MEMORABILIA MORTIS
I
I marked the slow withdrawal of the year,
Out on the hills the scarlet maples shone--
The glad, first herald of triumphant dawn.
A robin's song fell through the silence--clear
As long ago it rang when June was here.
Then, suddenly, a few grey clouds were drawn
Across the sky; and all the song was gone,
And all the gold was quick to disappear,
That day the sun seemed loth to come again;
And all day long the low wind spoke of rain,
Far off, beyond the hills; and moaned, like one
Wounded, among the pines: as though the Earth,
Knowing some giant grief had come to birth,
Had wearied of the Summer and the Sun.
II
I watched the slow oncoming of the Fall.
Slowly the leaves fell from the elms, and lay
Along the roadside; and the wind's strange way
Was their way, when they heard the wind's far call.
The crimson vines that clung along the wall
Grew thin as snow that lives on into May;
Grey dawn, grey noon,--all things and hours were grey,
When quietly the darkness covered all.
And while no sunset flamed across the west,
And no great moon rose where the hills were low,
The day passed out as if it had not been:
And so it seemed the year sank to its rest,
Remembering naught, desiring naught,--as though
Early in Spring its young leaves were not green.
III
A little while before the Fall was done
A day came when the frail year paused and said:
"Behold! a little while and I am dead;
Wilt thou not choose, of all the old dreams, one?"
Then dwelt I in a garden, where the sun
Shone always, and the roses all were red;
Far off, the great sea slept, and overhead,
Among the robins, matins had begun.
And I knew not at all it was a dream
Only, and that the year was near its close;
Garden and sunshine, robin-song and rose,
The half-heard murmur and the distant gleam
Of all the unvext sea, a little space
Were as a mist above the Autumn's face.
IV
And in this garden sloping to the sea
I dwelt (it seemed) to watch a pageant pass,--
Great Kings, their armour strong with iron and brass,
Young Queens, with yellow hair bound wonderfully.
For love's sake, and because of love's decree,
Most went, I knew; and so the flowers and grass
Knew my steps also: yet I wept Alas,
Deeming the garden surely lost to me.
But as the days went over, and still our feet
Trod the warm, even places, I knew well
(For I, as they, followed the close-heard beat
Of Love's wide wings who was her sentinel)
That here had Beauty built her citadel
And only we should reach her mercy-seat.
V
And ye, are ye not with me now alway?--
Thy raiment, Glauce, shall be my attire!
East of the Sun I, too, seek my desire!
My kisses, also, quicken the well-wrought clay!
And thou, Alcestis, lest my little day
Be done, art glad to die! Upon my pyre,
O Brynhild, let thine ashes feed the fire!
And, O thou Wood Sun, pray for me, I pray!
Yea, ye are mine! Yet there remaineth one
Who maketh Summer-time of all the year,
Whose glory darkeneth the very sun.
For thee my sword was sharpened and my spear,
For thee my least poor deed was dreamed and done,
O Love, O Queen, O Golden Guenevere!
VI
Then, suddenly, I was awake. Dead things
Were all about me and the year was dead.
Save where the birches grew, all leaves were shed
And nowhere fell the sound of song or wings.
The fields I deemed were graves of worshipped Kings
Had lost their bloom; no honey-bee now fed
Therein, and no white daisy bowed its head
To harken to the wind's love-murmurings.
Yet, by my dream, I know henceforth for me
This time of year shall hold some unknown grace
When the leaves fall, and shall be sanctified:
As April only comes for memory
Of him who kissed the veil from Beauty's face
That we might see, | 303.525855 | 1,464 |
2023-11-16 18:20:50.7070060 | 990 | 559 |
Produced by Henry Gardiner and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
* * * * *
[Illustration: Part of the original title page.]
* * * * *
Transcriber's Note: The original publication has been replicated
faithfully except as shown in the TRANSCRIBER'S AMENDMENTS near the end of
the text. To preserve the alignment of tables and headers, this etext
presumes a mono-spaced font on the user's device, such as Courier New.
Words in italics are indicated like _this_. But the publisher also wanted
to emphasize words in sentences already italicized, so he printed them in
the regular font which is indicated here with: _The pirates then went to
+Hispaniola+._ The FOOTNOTES: section is located near the end of the text.
There are 20 grains to a scruple, 3 scruples to a dram (or "8-ball"), and
8 drams to the ounce. The following table shows the unusual symbols used
in the prescriptions:
Symbol Meaning
[dram] dram, or drachm
[oz.] ounce
[scruple] scruple
[ss.] semi (half measure)
* * * * *
_LOIMOLOGIA_:
OR, AN
Historical Account
OF THE
Plague in _London_ in 1665:
With precautionary Directions against
the like _Contagion_.
By NATH. HODGES, M. D.
And Fellow of the College of Physicians, who
resided in the City all that Time.
To which is added, An
ESSAY
On the different Causes of PESTILENTIAL
DISEASES, and how they become
Contagious:
WITH
REMARKS
On the Infection now in FRANCE, and
the most probable Means to prevent its
Spreading here.
By JOHN QUINCY, M. D.
_LONDON_:
Printed for _E. Bell_, at the _Cross Keys_ and _Bible_ in
_Cornhill_; and _J. Osborn_, at the _Oxford-Arms_
in _Lombard-street_, 1720.
[Illustration]
THE
PREFACE.
_IT may be needless to acquaint the +Reader+ why the following +Sheets+
are published at this Time, we being all but too justly apprised of the
Danger there may be, of wanting those Helps, which are here intended to be
supplied, as far as such Means as these can do it._
_THE +Treatise+ of Dr. +Hodges+ contains the best Account of the late
Visitation by a +Plague+ here in +England+, of any hitherto extant; and
though some Readers may indeed observe, that the Enthusiastick Strain of
the preceeding Times very much hurts his Style and Perspicuity; such an
Influence had the Spirit of Delusion even over Matters of Science:
However, the most affected Peculiarities and Luxuriancies of that kind are
here avoided._
_WHAT is hereunto added, hath been partly extracted from Papers wrote some
Years ago, and partly put together since our present Apprehensions from
Abroad. The Enumeration of so many Causes of a Pestilence, or like
Changes, as have no Relation to the present Case, may to some perhaps seem
superfluous; but my Design hereby, was only the better to inculcate a
right Understanding of a +Contagion+, which is the last Consequence, and
highest Degree of Aggravation they are capable of rising to; and gradually
to lead Persons, not well accustomed to such Matters, from the more
obvious, to the more secret Means of bringing such terrible Changes into
our Constitutions._
_WHAT relates to such precautionary Means for our Security against the
present Infection now Abroad, as concern the Magistrate, I have presumed
to say but very little to; because I understand such Instructions are now
waited for from a very great and able Physician: But, with Submission to
the wisest, I cannot but repeat it here again, that no humane Means seems
more absolutely necessary, than to remove the Infected immediately upon
their Seizure, out of all great Towns, and provide for their due Support
in all Things, in open | 304.026416 | 1,465 |
2023-11-16 18:20:50.7969260 | 1,136 | 375 |
Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Mary Meehan and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team.
THE CHILD OF THE DAWN
By ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON
FELLOW OF MAGDALENE COLLEGE CAMBRIDGE
[Greek: edu ti tharsaleais ton makron teiein bion elpisin]
Author of THE UPTON LETTERS, FROM A COLLEGE WINDOW, BESIDE STILL WATERS,
THE ALTAR FIRE, THE SCHOOLMASTER, AT LARGE, THE GATE OF DEATH, THE
SILENT ISLE, JOHN RUSKIN, LEAVES OF THE TREE, CHILD OF THE DAWN, PAUL
THE MINSTREL
1912
To MY BEST AND DEAREST FRIEND
HERBERT FRANCIS WILLIAM TATHAM
IN LOVE AND HOPE
INTRODUCTION
I think that a book like the following, which deals with a subject so
great and so mysterious as our hope of immortality, by means of an
allegory or fantasy, needs a few words of preface, in order to clear
away at the outset any misunderstandings which may possibly arise in a
reader's mind. Nothing is further from my wish than to attempt any
philosophical or ontological exposition of what is hidden behind the
veil of death. But one may be permitted to deal with the subject
imaginatively or poetically, to translate hopes into visions, as I have
tried to do.
The fact that underlies the book is this: that in the course of a very
sad and strange experience--an illness which lasted for some two years,
involving me in a dark cloud of dejection--I came to believe
practically, instead of merely theoretically, in the personal
immortality of the human soul. I was conscious, during the whole time,
that though the physical machinery of the nerves was out of gear, the
soul and the mind remained, not only intact, but practically unaffected
by the disease, imprisoned, like a bird in a cage, but perfectly free in
themselves, and uninjured by the bodily weakness which enveloped them.
This was not all. I was led to perceive that I had been living life
with an entirely distorted standard of values; I had been ambitious,
covetous, eager for comfort and respect, absorbed in trivial dreams and
childish fancies. I saw, in the course of my illness, that what really
mattered to the soul was the relation in which it stood to other souls;
that affection was the native air of the spirit; and that anything which
distracted the heart from the duty of love was a kind of bodily
delusion, and simply hindered the spirit in its pilgrimage.
It is easy to learn this, to attain to a sense of certainty about it,
and yet to be unable to put it into practice as simply and frankly as
one desires to do! The body grows strong again and reasserts itself; but
the blessed consciousness of a great possibility apprehended and grasped
remains.
There came to me, too, a sense that one of the saddest effects of
what is practically a widespread disbelief in immortality, which
affects many people who would nominally disclaim it, is that we think
of the soul after death as a thing so altered as to be practically
unrecognisable--as a meek and pious emanation, without qualities or aims
or passions or traits--as a sort of amiable and weak-kneed sacristan in
the temple of God; and this is the unhappy result of our so often making
religion a pursuit apart from life--an occupation, not an atmosphere; so
that it seems impious to think of the departed spirit as interested in
anything but a vague species of liturgical exercise.
I read the other day the account of the death-bed of a great statesman,
which was written from what I may call a somewhat clerical point of
view. It was recorded with much gusto that the dying politician took no
interest in his schemes of government and cares of State, but found
perpetual solace in the repetition of childish hymns. This fact had, or
might have had, a certain beauty of its own, if it had been expressly
stated that it was a proof that the tired and broken mind fell back upon
old, simple, and dear recollections of bygone love. But there was
manifest in the record a kind of sanctimonious triumph in the extinction
of all the great man's insight and wisdom. It seemed to me that the
right treatment of the episode was rather to insist that those great
qualities, won by brave experience and unselfish effort, were only
temporarily obscured, and belonged actually and essentially to the
spirit of the man; and that if heaven is indeed, as we may thankfully
believe, a place of work and progress, those qualities would be actively
and energetically employed as soon as the soul was freed from the
trammels of the failing body.
Another point may also be mentioned. The idea of transmigration and
reincarnation is here used as a possible solution for the extreme
difficulties which beset the question of the apparently fortuitous
brevity of some human lives. I do not, of course, propound it as
| 304.116336 | 1,466 |
2023-11-16 18:20:50.9103440 | 1,315 | 183 |
Produced by Linda M. Everhart, Blairstown, Missouri
MINK TRAPPING.
[Illustration: A LARGE MINK.]
MINK TRAPPING
A BOOK OF INSTRUCTION GIVING MANY
METHODS OF TRAPPING--A VALUABLE
BOOK FOR TRAPPERS.
EDITED BY
A. R. HARDING.
PUBLISHED BY
A. R. HARDING PUBLISHING CO.
COLUMBUS, OHIO.
COPYRIGHT 1906
BY A. R. HARDING.
CONTENTS.
I. General Information
II. Mink and Their Habits
III. Size and Care of Skins
IV. Good and Lasting Baits
V. Bait and Scent
VI. Places to Set
VII. Indian Methods
VIII. Mink Trapping on the Prairie
IX. Southern Methods
X. Northern Methods
XI. Unusual Ways
XII. Illinois Trapper's Method
XIII. Experienced Trapper's Ways
XIV. Many Good Methods
XV. Salt Set
XVI. Log and Other Sets
XVII. Points for the Young Trapper
XVIII. Proper Size Traps
XIX. Deadfalls
XX. Steel Traps
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
A Large Mink
A Mink Trapper
Looking for Food
Good Signs
Nicely Handled Wisconsin Skins
Some Prime N. E. Skins
Large Iowa Mink
Caught in Midwinter
Northwestern Skins
Trapper's "Shack"
A Good Mink Stream
Where Signs are Plenty
Indian Trapper
Camping Out
Moses Bone
A Young Trapper
Large Southern Mink
Caught in Minnesota
A Few Good Ones
Broke the Fastening
Trapping Down Stream
Eastern Trapper and Traps
Barricade Set
Northwest Trapper and Mink
Northern Mink Trapper's Shanty
A Few Days' Catch
Three Log Set
Some New York State Skins
Pole Deadfall
Stone Deadfalls
Board or Log Trap
A Good Fastening
Mink and Other Steel Traps
[Illustration: A. R. HARDING.]
INTRODUCTORY.
While there are some excellent mink trappers, no one man has studied
out all the methods, for the conditions under which the trapper in
the South makes his largest catches would probably be of little value
to the trapper of the Far North, where snow covers the ground the
greater part of the year.
Conditions along the Atlantic are different than the Pacific, and as
well the methods used by thousands of trappers along the Mississippi
and its tributaries differ from the Eastern or Western Coast trapper,
for the mink's food is not the same along the fresh inland waters as
the coast or salt water.
The methods published are from all parts of the country, and many
experienced trappers tell of their best methods, so that it makes no
difference in what part of America you live, something will be found
of how to trap in your section. Most of the articles are taken from
those published in the H-T-T with slight correction.
A. R. HARDING.
MINK TRAPPING
CHAPTER I.
GENERAL INFORMATION.
Mink are found in nearly all parts of America living along creeks,
rivers, lakes and ponds. While strictly speaking they are not a water
animal, yet their traveling for food and otherwise is mainly near the
water, so that the trapper finds this the best place to set his
traps.
The mink is fond of fish, rabbit, squirrel, birds, mice, etc. In some
sections they eat muskrat, but we believe they prefer other animals,
only eating muskrat when very hungry and other game is scarce.
At certain seasons scent seems to attract them while at other times
the flesh of the rabbit, bird or fish will attract them. The trapper
who makes mink trapping a business should have various kinds of traps
and sets for them, such as steel traps, both bait and blind sets, as
well as deadfalls.
Mink, while small, are quite strong for their size and very active.
While a No. 0 Newhouse will hold them, the No. 1 is usually
considered the proper trap.
As already mentioned, mink travel a great deal near water, so that
the place to catch them is close to the water or in the water. If you
notice mink tracks near the water, in some narrow place where the
bank comes nearly to the water or a rock or log projects nearly to
the water, carefully dig a hole the size of your trap and an inch or
more deep, covering with a large leaf or a piece of paper first. Then
place a thin layer of earth removed over leaf or paper, making the
set look as natural as before. The dirt from the hole for trap as
taken out should be thrown in the water or to one side. One of the
great secrets in mink trapping, especially blind sets, is to leave
things as near as possible as they were before the set was made.
There are various shades of mink--some quite dark, others brown,
pale, and some cotton. The greater number, however, are brown. In the
Northeast, Maine, etc., mink are not large, but the color is rather
dark. In the same latitude some ten or twelve hundred miles west in
Minnesota and Manitoba, Canada mink are larger but not so dark. Still
further west on the coast of Washington mink are again smaller, being
somewhat similar in size to the Maine mink but much lighter in color.
Throughout the central section such as Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa,
etc., they are larger than the Maine mink but smaller than Minnesota.
In color not near so dark as the Eastern or Maine mink.
The cotton mink is found principally in the prairie and level
sections. In general appearance it is much the same as a | 304.229754 | 1,467 |
2023-11-16 18:20:50.9466450 | 4,081 | 41 |
Produced by Al Haines.
*[Frontispiece: "You locked me out!" she said, hysterically.
(missing from book)]*
_*HER LORD
AND MASTER*_
_By MARTHA MORTON_
_Illustrated by_
_HOWARD CHANDLER CHRISTY
and ESTHER MAC NAMARA_
_R. F. FENNO & COMPANY
18 East Seventeenth Street, NEW YORK_
Copyright, 1902
By
ANTHONY J. DREXEL BIDDLE
Entered at Stationers' Hall, London
All Rights Reserved
*Contents*
CHAPTER
I.--A Reunion
II.--Birds of Passage
III.--On a Model Farm
IV.--Springtime
V.--Camp Indiana
VI.--Guests
VII.--The Weaver
VIII.--The World's Rest
IX.--In an Orchard of the Memory
X.--The Might of the Falls
XI.--A Moonlight Picnic
XII.--Leading to the Altar
XIII.--England
XIV.--Transplantation
XV.--"I Shall Keep My Promise"
XVI.--An Escapade
XVII.--Late Visitors
XVIII.--Awakening
XIX.--"And as He Wove, He Heard Singing"
*Illustrations*
"You locked me out!" she said, hysterically. _Frontispiece_
"I'd call the picture, 'Indiana.'"
Catching Pollywogs
"I--I--what have I said? I didn't mean it."
"I will have love to help me."
*Foreword*
"Her Lord and Master," by Martha Morton, was first produced in New York,
during the Spring of 1902. The play met with great success, and ran for
over one hundred nights at the Manhattan Theatre.
Miss Victoria Morton, the sister of the playwright, now presents "Her
Lord and Master" as a novel.
The play is being produced in the principal cities during this season.
*CHAPTER I.*
*A Reunion.*
"Did the ladies arrive, Mr. Stillwater?" inquired the clerk at the
Waldorf Hotel, New York, as a tall, broad-shouldered man, unmistakably
Western in appearance, walked smilingly up to the desk.
"Bag and baggage, bless their hearts!"
A dark, distinguished looking man, who was looking over the register,
glanced at the speaker, then moved slightly to one side as the latter
took up the pen. Stillwater registered in a quick, bold hand, and
walked away. The dark gentleman turned again to the register and read:
"Horatio Stillwater, Stillwater, Indiana."
"Horatio Stillwater, Stillwater!" he remarked to the clerk with a
cultured English accent. "A coincidence, I presume?"
"Not at all," answered the clerk laughing. "That often happens out
West. You see, Stillwater founded the town. He owned most of the land,
besides the largest interests in wheat and oil. It's a great wheat and
oil centre. Naturally the town is named after him."
"Naturally," acquiesced the Englishman, staring blankly at the clerk.
He lit a cigar and puffed it thoughtfully for about five minutes, then
he exclaimed, "Extraordinary!"
"Beg pardon?" said the clerk.
"I find it most extraordinary."
"What are you referring to, Lord Canning?"
"I was referring to what you were telling me about this gentleman, of
course!" Lord Canning pointed to Stillwater on the register.
"Oh!" laughed the clerk, amused that the facts he had given were still a
matter for reflection. "Yes, he's one of our biggest capitalists out
West. The family are generally here at this time of the year. The
ladies have just arrived from Palm Beach."
"Palm Beach?"
"That's south, you know."
"Oh, a winter resort?"
"Exactly."
Lord Canning recommenced his study of the register.
"Mrs. Horatio Stillwater," he read. "Stillwater, Indiana. Miss Indiana
Stillwater." He reflected a moment. "Miss Indiana Stillwater,
Stillwater, Indiana. Here too, is a similarity of names. Probably a
coincidence and probably not." He read on, "Mrs. Chazy Bunker,
Stillwater, Indiana. Bunker, Bunker!" He pressed his hand to his
forehead. "Oh, Bunker Hill," he thought, with sudden inspiration.
"Miss Indiana Stillwater, Stillwater, Indiana. If the town was named
after the father, why should not the State--no, that could not be. But
the reverse might be possible." He addressed the clerk.
"Would you mind telling me--oh, I beg your pardon," seeing that the
clerk was very much occupied at that moment--"It doesn't matter--some
other time." He turned and lounged easily against the desk, surveying
the people walking about, with the intentness of a person new to his
surroundings, and still pondering the question.
* * * * *
"Now," said Stillwater, after his family had been duly installed, "let
me look at you. I'm mighty glad to see you all again." He swung his
daughter Indiana up in his arms and kissed her, then set her on his knee
and looked at her with open admiration.
Mr. Horatio Stillwater had never seen any reason why he should be
ashamed of his great pride in his only child. Indiana herself had often
been heard to remark, "Pa has never really recovered from the shock of
my birth. It was a case of too much joy. He thinks I'm the greatest
thing on record."
"Well, folks," he said, "I expect you're all dead tired."
"Not I," said Mrs. Bunker, his mother-in-law. She was a well-formed
woman, with dark, vivacious eyes and a crown of white hair dressed in
the latest mode. "I could take the trip all over again."
"Did you miss us, father?" asked Mrs. Stillwater, a gentle-looking,
pretty woman, with soft, brown hair and dark blue eyes like her child's,
only Indiana's were more alert and restless. "Ma has lovely eyes,"
Indiana was in the habit of remarking. "She takes them from me."
Mr. Stillwater put Indiana off his knees and sat by his wife.
"Did I miss you? Not a little bit."
"Your color's pretty bad, father," she said, "and you look dead tired.
Perhaps," she rose impulsively, "perhaps you've been laid up."
"No, ma, no," he placed his big hands on her shoulders, forcing her down
in her chair. "I haven't been laid up. But I've been feeling mighty
queer."
He was immediately overwhelmed by a torrent of exclamations and
questions from Mrs. Bunker and Indiana, while his wife sat pale and
quiet, with heaving breast.
"No, I don't know what's the matter with me," he answered. "No, I can't
describe how I feel. No, I have not been to a doctor, and I'm not
going. There, you have it straight. I don't believe in them."
"Pa!" said Indiana, taking a stand in the centre of the room, "I want to
say a few words to you."
"Oh, Lord!" thought Stillwater, "When Indiana shakes her pompadour and
folds her arms, there's no telling where she'll end."
"I want to ask you if the sentiments which you have just expressed are
befitting ones for a man with a family?"
"Mother," said Mrs. Stillwater, "he always takes your advice, tell him
he should consult a doctor."
"Indiana has the floor!" said Mrs. Bunker.
"Is it right that you should make it necessary for me to remind you of a
common duty; that of paying proper attention to your health, in order
that we should have peace of mind?"
Indiana had been chosen to deliver the valedictory at the closing
exercises at her school. This gave her a reputation for eloquence which
she liked to sustain whenever an occasion presented itself.
"I see your finish," she wound up, not as elegantly as one might have
expected. "You'll be a hopeless wreck and we'll all have insomnia from
lying awake nights, worrying. When we once get in that state--" she
turned to Mrs. Bunker.
"No cure," said the lady. "Nothing but time."
Stillwater sat with his hand in his pocket and his eyes closed,
apparently thinking deeply.
"Well, I've said all I'm going to say."
She looked at him expectantly. His eyes remained closed, however, and
he breathed deeply and regularly.
"I have finished, pa. Have you any remarks to make?"
No answer.
"He's asleep, Indiana," said Mrs. Bunker, with a peal of laughter.
"He is not," said Indiana indignantly. "He's only making believe--" She
bent down and looked in his face. "You're not asleep, are you, pa?"
"No, of course not; who said I was?" He sat up rubbing his eyes. "Did
you get it all off your mind, Indy?"
"You heard what I said, pa?"
"Certainly; it was fine. You must write it down for me some day, Indy."
"Would you close your ears and eyes to the still, small voice," said
Indiana, jumping upon a chair and declaiming in approved pulpit fashion.
"The voice which says, 'Go not in the by-ways. There are snares and
quick-sands. Follow in the open road, the path of truth and
righteousness.' I want to know if you're going to a doctor?"
"Well, I suppose I must, if I want some peace in life."
"No ordinary doctor, you must consult a specialist." She looked around
triumphantly.
Her mother smiled on her in loving approval.
"A specialist for what, Indy?" Stillwater asked drily.
Indiana met his eyes bent enquiringly upon her, then burst into
laughter.
"Well, you've phazed me this time," she said. Then she installed
herself on his knee. "Oh, I don't mean a specialist at all. I mean a
consulting physician--an authority."
"Now you're talking," answered Stillwater, with a beaming smile.
Indiana jumped off his knee. "An ordinary doctor isn't good enough for
my father!" She gave a very good imitation of a cowboy's swagger. "I'm
hungry, pa."
"Well, where are you going to have lunch?"
"I'd like mine brought up," said Mrs. Stillwater. "Are the trunks
unlocked, Kitty?" as a young, bright-looking girl appeared at the door.
"Yes ma'am. Come right in and I'll make you comfortable."
"I'll have my lunch up here with ma," said Mr. Stillwater. "What's the
rest of you going to do?"
"Oh, we'll go down and hear the band play," said Mrs. Bunker with
exuberant spirits. "Come along, Indiana!"
Stillwater was one of the men who had risen rapidly in the West. He had
married at a boyish age, a very young, gentle girl, and had emigrated
from the East soon after marriage, with his wife and her mother, Mrs.
Chazy Bunker. He built a house on government land in Indiana. The first
seven years meant hard and incessant toil, but in that time he and the
two women saw some very happy days. His marriage had been a boy and
girl affair, dating from the village school. One of those lucky unions,
built neither upon calculation or judgment, which terminate happily for
all concerned. Stillwater was only aware that the eyes of Mary Bunker
were blue and sweet as the wild violets that he picked and presented to
her, and that she never spelt above him. His manliness won her respect,
and his gentleness her love. Their immature natures thus thoughtlessly
and happily united, like a pair of birds at nesting time, grew together
as the years went on until they became one. After seven years of
unremitting work, Stillwater could stand and look proudly as far as the
eye could reach, on acre after acre of golden wheat tossing blithely in
the breeze. He had been helped to this result by the women who had lived
with the greatest economy and thrift putting everything into the land.
His young and inexperienced wife acted under the direction of her
mother, a splendid manager and a woman of great shrewdness and sense.
He could look, also, on the low, red-painted house, which could boast
now of many additions, and realize that his marriage had been a success.
In that low red house Indiana first saw the light, and, simultaneously,
oil was struck on the land. The child became the prospective heiress of
millions.
The birth of a daughter opened the source of the deepest joy Stillwater
had ever known. When Mrs. Bunker laid the infant swathed in new
flannels in his arms, he was assailed by indescribable feelings,
altogether new to him. She watched him curiously as he held the tiny
bundle with the greatest timidity in his big brawny hands. Feeling her
bright eyes on his face he flushed with embarrassment. Mrs. Bunker
pushed back the flannel and showed him a wee fist, like a crumpled
roseleaf, which she opened by force, clasping it again around
Stillwater's finger. As he felt that tiny and helpless clasp tears
welled into his honest brown eyes.
"There isn't anything she shan't have," he said. And these words held
good through all the years that Indiana lived under his roof. In a
spirit of patriotism, Stillwater named his daughter Indiana.
"She was born right here in Indiana," he declared. "She's a prairie
flower, so we named her after the State."
The birth of a daughter appealed to Stillwater as a most beautiful and
wonderful thing. It awakened all the latent chivalry and tenderness of
his character. As he remarked to his friend Masters, "A girl kinder
brings out the soft spots in man's nature."
This feeling is a foreign one to the European who always longs for a son
to perpetuate his name and possessions, and after all it is a natural
egotism when there is a long and honorable line of ancestry, but in all
ranks and conditions the cry is the same, "A son, oh Lord, give me a
son!"
After the boom which followed the discovery of oil-gushers on the land,
and Stillwater looked steadily in the face, with that level head which
no amount of success could turn, the enormous prospects of the future,
he thought, "It's just come in time for Indiana." His imagination
pictured another Mary Bunker, another soft and clinging creature to
nestle against his heart, another image of his wife to wind her arms
about his neck and look up into his face with trusting love. Instead,
he had a little whirlwind of a creature, a combination of tempests and
sunshine, with eyes like the skies of Indiana, and hair the color of the
ripe wheat, upon which his wife used to gaze as she sat on her porch
sewing little garments, nothing as far as the eyes could strain but that
harmony of golden color, joining the blue of the sky at the rim of the
horizon. The peace and happiness of the Stillwater household fluctuated
according to the moods of Indiana. These conditions commenced when she
was a child, and grew as she developed. The family regarded her storms
as inevitable, and nothing could be more beautiful than her serenity
when they passed, nothing could equal the tenderness of her love for
them all.
Stillwater, under high pressure from his family, went to consult a noted
New York medical authority; a gaunt, spare-looking man, who, after the
usual preliminaries, leaned back in his chair and regarded Stillwater
fixedly.
"Your liver's torpid, your digestion is all wrong, and you are on the
verge of a nervous collapse."
"Well, doctor, what do you advise?"
"Complete change."
"Well, don't send me too far. I have big interests on hand just now."
"Cessation of all business."
"Don't know how I can manage that."
"Get on a sailing vessel. Stay on it for three months."
"I should die for want of an interest in life."
"Take my advice in time, Mr. Stillwater. It will save future trouble."
"I wonder how Indiana would like a sailing trip," thought Stillwater.
"If the folks were along I guess we'd manage to whoop it up, all right.
Well, I'll think it over, Doctor. Of course, I couldn't do anything
without consulting the ladies."
Stillwater smiled in a confidential way, as much as to say, "You know
how it is yourself." The noted authority answered by a look of
contemptuous pity.
"See you again, Doctor."
As he arrived at the hotel he was hailed by Indiana, driving up in a
hansom.
"Been to see the doctor?"
"Yes; I've got lots to tell."
"Jump in and we'll drive around the park. The others won't be home
yet."
Stillwater made a feint of hesitating. "Perhaps I'd better wait till
we're all together."
"Well, you can jump in anyway, and come for a drive," said Indiana.
"I'll give him five minutes," she thought, "before he tells me all he
knows."
"The air will do me a whole lot of good," remarked Stillwater, acting on
her advice.
It was a clear cold day, in the latter part of February, and the wind
blew keenly in their faces as they bowled leisurely up Fifth Avenue.
"Say, Indiana," after three minutes perusal of the promenaders.
"Yes, pa--it's coming," she thought.
"How would you like to go on a sailing trip for three months; the whole
kit and crew of us? We'd have everything our own way; I'd see to that.
We'd run the whole show. On the water for three months. What do you
think of it--eh?"
"Bully!" shouted Indiana, throwing her muff up in the air, and catching
it deftly.
"I thought you'd like it," said Stillwater, chuckling.
"What did the doctor say | 304.266055 | 1,468 |
2023-11-16 18:20:51.0286110 | 1,139 | 418 |
Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
The Mystery of a Turkish Bath, by Rita.
________________________________________________________________________
Under the pseudonym "Rita" E M Gollan wrote some seventy novels of
which this is one. It is a rather penetrating book about the
supernatural. It starts off with a somewhat unusual situation, at least
in literature, with a group of ladies in the turkish bath of a large and
luxurious hotel by the sea, in England, the sort of hotel to which
people go to be cured of illnesses, on the recommendation of their
doctors. It is some time in the late nineteenth century.
An extraordinarily beautiful woman appears one day in the turkish bath,
and the women already in there are quite fascinated by her. But there
is another guest in the hotel, a Colonel Estcourt, who, it turns out had
known this woman since childhood. Indeed it had been expected that they
would one day wed, but instead she had gone off and married an elderly,
but fabulously wealthy, Russian prince.
Various demonstrations of her occult powers make the guests, both men
and women, realise that the beautiful Princess is someone with very
special gifts, which one or two of them would like to learn more about.
But in the very process of the ensuing teach-in, more things happen
than had been bargained for, and both the Colonel and the Princess end
up lifeless. The Mystery deepens.
If you like this sort of thing it is a very good novel, but if you are
not happy to read about the occult, you should leave it severely alone.
________________________________________________________________________
THE MYSTERY OF A TURKISH BATH, BY RITA.
CHAPTER ONE.
THE FIRST ROOM.
"I take them for rheumatic gout," said a slight, dark-haired woman to
her neighbour, as she leant back in a low lounging-chair, and sipped
some water an attendant had just brought her. "You would not suppose I
suffered from such a complaint, would you?"--and she held up a small
arched foot, with a scarcely perceptible swelling in the larger joint.
She laughed somewhat affectedly, and the neighbour, who was fat and
coarse, and had decided gouty symptoms herself, looked at her with
something of the contempt an invalid elephant might be supposed to
bestow on a buzzing fly.
"You made that remark the last time you were here," she said; "and I
told you, if you suffered from a suppressed form of the disease, it
would be all the worse for you. Much better for it to come out--my
doctor says."
There was no doubt about the disease having "come out" in the person of
the speaker. It had "come out" in her face, which was brilliantly
rubicund; in her hands, and ankles and feet, which were a distressful
spectacle of "knobs" and "bumps" of an exaggerated phrenological type--
perhaps also in her temper, which was fierce and fiery as her
complexion, as most of the frequenters of the Baths knew, and the
attendants also, to their cost.
The small, dark lady, with the arched feet, lapsed into sulky silence,
and let her eyes wander over the room to see if anyone she knew was
there.
The Baths were of an extensive and sumptuous description--fitted up with
almost oriental luxury and comfort, and attached to a monster hotel,
built by an enterprising Company of speculators, at an English winter
resort, in Hampshire.
The Company had proudly hoped that lavish expenditure, a beautiful
situation, and the disinterested recommendation of fashionable
physicians, would induce English people to discover that there were
spots and places in their own land as healthy and convenient as
Auvergne, or Wiesbaden, or the Riviera. But though the coast views were
fine, and the scenery picturesque, and the monster hotel itself stood on
a commanding eminence, surrounded by darkly-beautiful pine woods, and
was fitted up with every luxury of modern civilisation, including every
specimen of Bath that human ingenuity had devised, the Company looked
blankly at the returns on their balance-sheet, and one or two Directors
murmured audible complaints at special Board meetings, against the
fashionable physicians who had not acted up to their promises, or proved
deserving of the substantial bonus which had been more than hinted at,
as a reward for recommended patients.
On this December morning, some half-dozen ladies, of various ages and
stability of person, and all suffering, in a greater or less degree,
from various fashionable complaints--such as neuralgia, indigestion,
rheumatism, or its aristocratic cousin, rheumatic-gout--were in Room
Number One of the Turkish Bath.
The female form is generally supposed to be "divine," and poets and
painters have, from time immemorial, rhapsodised over "beauty
unadorned." It is probable that such poets and painters have never been
gratified by such a vision of feminine charms as Room Number One
presented.
Light and airy garments were, certainly, to be seen, but not--forms. It
was, of course, a question of | 304.348021 | 1,469 |
2023-11-16 18:20:51.3829570 | 1,139 | 428 |
Produced by Richard Tonsing, Chuck Greif and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
book was produced from scanned images of public domain
material from the Google Books project.)
THE
MYSTERIES OF LONDON.
BY
GEORGE W. M. REYNOLDS,
AUTHOR OF "FAUST," "PICKWICK ABROAD," "ROBERT MACAIRE,"
"WAGNER: THE WEHR-WOLF," &C., &C.
WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS
VOL. III.
VOL. I. SECOND SERIES.
LONDON:
G. VICKERS, 3, CATHERINE STREET, STRAND.
MDCCCXLVII.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY J. FAUTLEY, "BONNER HOUSE" PRINTING OFFICE, SEACOAL LANE.
THE MYSTERIES OF LONDON.
CONTENTS OF VOL. I.
CHAPTER I.—The Travelling Carriage 1
II.—Tom Rain and Old Death 4
III.—Bow Street 6
IV.—Esther de Medina 9
V.—The Appeal of Love 13
VI.—Dr. Lascelles 15
VII.—The Beautiful Patient 18
VIII.—Seven Dials 20
IX.—A Death-Scene.—Lock's Fields 23
X.—A Scene at the House of Sir Christopher Blunt 28
XI.—The Two Thousand Pounds.—Torrens Cottage 30
XII.—Adelais and Rosamond 33
XIII.—The Elopement 36
XIV.—Lady Hatfield and Dr. Lascelles.—Esther de Medina 39
XV.—The Opiate 42
XVI.—The Lover and the Uncle 43
XVII.—The Mysterious Letter.—Jacob 44
XVIII.—The Lovers 48
XIX.—Mr. Frank Curtis's Pleasant Adventure 51
XX.—Happiness.—The Diamond Merchant 55
XXI.—The Oath 59
XXII.—The Alarm.—The Letter 61
XXIII.—Old Death 64
XXIV.—Castle Street, Long Acre 67
XXV.—Matilda, the Country-Girl 70
XXVI.—The Lady's-Maid 73
XXVII.—London on a Rainy Evening.—A Scene in a Post-Chaise 75
XXVIII.—Tom Rain's Lodgings in Lock's Fields 77
XXIX.—The Mysteries of Old Death's Establishment 82
XXX.—The Store-Rooms 86
XXXI.—Another Deed of Infamy brought to Light 88
XXXII.—Rainford in the Subterranean 92
XXXIII.—Mrs. Martha Slingsby 94
XXXIV.—The Pious Lady 96
XXXV.—Mr. Sheepshanks 100
XXXVI.—The Baronet and his Mistress 102
XXXVII.—Tom Rain and Jacob 104
XXXVIII.—The History of Jacob Smith 107
XXXIX.—Continuation of the History of Jacob Smith 116
XL.—Conclusion of the History of Jacob Smith 120
XLI.—Fresh Alarms 126
XLII.—The Paragraph in the Newspaper 128
XLIII.—Lord Ellingham and Tom Rainford 131
XLIV.—Mr. Frank Curtis again 134
XLV.—Mr. <DW18>s and his Myrmidons 139
XLVI.—Explanations 141
XLVII.—Farther Explanations 144
XLVIII.—Lord Ellingham and Tom Rain 147
XLIX.—A Painful Interview 151
L.—The Lawyer's Office 155
LI.—Lord Ellingham in the Dungeon 157
LII.—Lord Ellingham's Exertions 162
LIII.—The Execution 164
LIV.—Galvanism 166
LV.—The Laboratory.—Esther de Medina 167
LVI.—A History of the Past 172
LVII.—A Father 185
LVIII.—The Resuscitated 188
LIX.—The Jew's Family 194
LX.—Sir Christopher Blunt's Domestic Hearth 196
LXI.—Captain O'Blunderbuss 198
LXII.—Frank's Embarrassments 202
LXIII.—The Meeting in Battersea Fields 204
LXIV.—Old Death and his Friend Tidmarsh 206
LXV.—The Examination 208
LXVI.—Mrs. Slingsby and the Baronet again 215
LXVII.—The Marriage.—Rosamond 219
LXVIII.—Dr. Wagtail.—Rosamond Torrens | 304.702367 | 1,470 |
2023-11-16 18:20:51.5072090 | 1,180 | 414 |
Produced by Al Haines.
[Illustration: Cover]
[Illustration: WITH IT FELL CONAL! _Page_ 162]
Courage, True Hearts
Sailing in Search of Fortune
BY
GORDON STABLES
Author of "The Naval Cadet" "For Life and Liberty"
"To Greenland and the Pole" &c.
"I've wandered east, I've wandered west,
Through many a weary way;
But never, never can forget
The love of life's young day."
BLACKIE & SON LIMITED
LONDON AND GLASGOW
The Peak Library
_Books in this Series_
Overdue. Harry Collingwood.
The Dampier Boys. E. M. Green.
The King's Knight. G. I. Whitham.
Their London Cousins. Lady Middleton.
The White Witch of Rosel. E. E. Cowper.
Freda's Great Adventure. Alice Massie.
Courage, True Hearts! Gordon Stables.
Stephen goes to Sea. A. O. Cooke.
Under the Chilian Flag. Harry Collingwood.
The Islanders. Theodora Wilson Wilson.
Margery finds Herself. Doris A. Pocock.
Cousins in Camp. Theodora Wilson Wilson.
Far the sake of his Chum. Walter C. Rhoades.
An Ocean Outlaw. Hugh St. Leger.
Boys of the Priory School. F. Coombe.
Jane in Command. E. E. Cowper.
Adventures of Two. May Wynne.
The Secret of the Old House. E. Everett Green.
_Printed in Great Britain by Blackie & Son, Ltd., Glasgow_
CONTENTS.
BOOK I.
IN SCOTTISH WILDS AND LONDON STREETS.
CHAP.
I. Hope told a Flattering Tale
II. Hurrah for "Merrie England"!
III. The Boys' Life in London
IV. Wild Sports on Moorland and Ice
V. A Highland Blizzard--The Lost Sheep and Shepherd
VI. "The breath of God was over all the land"
VII. The Parting comes at last
BOOK II.
THE CRUISE OF THE _FLORA M'VAYNE_.
I. The Terrors of the Ocean
II. A Fearful Experience
III. Bound for Southern Seas of Ice
IV. On the Wings of the Wind
V. Johnnie Shingles and Old Mr. Pen
VI. "Back water all! For life, boys, for life!"
VII. "Here's to the loved ones at home"
VIII. Captain Talbot spins a Yarn
IX. Tongues of Lurid Fire--Blue, Green, and Deepest Crimson
X. So poor Conal must Perish!
XI. Thus Hand in Hand the Brothers Sleep
XII. Winter Life in an Antarctic Pack
XIII. A Chaos of Rolling and Dashing Ice
XIV. "Heave, and she goes! Hurrah!"
XV. The Isles of Desolation
BOOK III.
IN THE LAND OF THE NUGGET AND DIAMOND.
I. Shipwreck on a Lonely Isle
II. A Weary Time
III. Children of the Sky
IV. Treasure-hunters. The Forest
V. Fighting the Gorillas
VI. An Invading Army--Victory!
VII. The Mysterious Stone
VIII. The Battle at the Ford
IX. The very Identical Bird
X. The Welcome Home
BOOK I
IN SCOTTISH WILDS AND LONDON STREETS
CHAPTER I--HOPE TOLD A FLATTERING TALE
Had you been in the beautiful and wild forest of Glenvoie on that bright
and blue-skied September morning--on one of its hills, let us say--and
heard the music of those two boys' voices swelling up towards you,
nothing that I know of could have prevented you from joining in. So
joyous, so full of hope were they withal, that the very tune itself, to
say nothing of the words, would have sent sorrow right straight away
from your heart, if there had been any to send.
"Cheer, boys, cheer, no more of idle sorrow,
Courage, true hearts, shall bear us on our way;
Hope flies before, and points the bright to-morrow,
Let us forget the dangers of to-day."
There was a pause just here, and from your elevated situation on that
rocky pap, looking down, you would have rested your eyes on one of the
prettiest rolling woodland scenes in all broad Scotland.
It was a great waving ocean of foliage, and the sunset of autumn was
over it all, lying here and there in patches of crimson, brown, and
yellow, which the solemn black of pine-trees, and the funereal green of
dark spruces only served to intensify.
Flap-flap-flap! huge wood-pigeons arise in the air and go sailing over
the woods. They are frightened, as well they may be, for a moment
afterwards two guns ring out almost simultaneously, and so still is the
air that you can hear the dull thud of fallen game.
"Hurrah, Conal! Why | 304.826619 | 1,471 |
2023-11-16 18:20:51.7270790 | 1,034 | 519 |
Produced by Chris Curnow, Keith Edkins and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
Transcriber's note: A few typographical errors have been corrected: they
are listed at the end of the text.
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
A carat character is used to denote superscription. A single character
following the carat is superscripted (example: X^1). Similarly an
underscore represents a subscript (_sk_4_ has a subscript 4 and is in
italics).
Page numbers enclosed by curly braces (example: {25}) have been
incorporated to facilitate the use of the Index.
* * * * *
THE
ORIGIN OF VERTEBRATES
BY
WALTER HOLBROOK GASKELL
M.A., M.D. (CANTAB.), LL.D. (EDIN. AND McGILL UNIV.); F.R.S.; FELLOW OF
TRINITY HALL AND UNIVERSITY LECTURER IN PHYSIOLOGY, CAMBRIDGE; HONORARY
FELLOW OF THE ROYAL MEDICAL AND CHIRURGICAL SOCIETY; CORRESPONDING MEMBER
OF THE IMPERIAL MILITARY ACADEMY OF MEDICINE, ST. PETERSBURG, ETC.
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
NEW YORK, BOMBAY, AND CALCUTTA
1908
_All rights reserved_
CONTENTS
PAGE
INTRODUCTION 1
CHAPTER I
THE EVIDENCE OF THE CENTRAL NERVOUS SYSTEM
Theories of the origin of vertebrates--Importance of the central
nervous system--Evolution of tissues--Evidence of Palaeontology--
Reasons for choosing Ammocoetes rather than Amphioxus for the
investigation of this problem--Importance of larval forms--
Comparison of the vertebrate and arthropod central nervous
systems--Antagonism between cephalization and alimentation--
Life-history of lamprey, not a degenerate animal--Brain of
Ammocoetes compared with brain of arthropod--Summary 8
CHAPTER II
THE EVIDENCE OF THE ORGANS OF VISION
Different kinds of eye--Simple and compound retinas--Upright and
inverted retinas--Median eyes--Median or pineal eyes of Ammocoetes
and their optic ganglia--Comparison with other median eyes--Lateral
eyes of vertebrates compared with lateral eyes of crustaceans--
Peculiarities of the lateral eye of the lamprey--Meaning of the
optic diverticula--Evolution of vertebrate eyes--Summary 68
CHAPTER III
THE EVIDENCE OF THE SKELETON
The bony and cartilaginous skeleton considered, not the notochord--
Nature of the earliest cartilaginous skeleton--The mesosomatic
skeleton of Ammocoetes; its topographical arrangement, its
structure, its origin in muco-cartilage--The prosomatic skeleton of
Ammocoetes; the trabeculae and parachordals, their structure, their
origin in white fibrous tissue--The mesosomatic skeleton of Limulus
compared with that of Ammocoetes; similarity of position, of
structure, of origin in muco-cartilage--The prosomatic skeleton of
Limulus; the entosternite, or plastron, compared with the trabeculae
of Ammocoetes; similarity of position, of structure, of origin in
fibrous tissue--Summary 119
CHAPTER IV
THE EVIDENCE OF THE RESPIRATORY APPARATUS
Branchiae considered as internal branchial appendages--Innervation of
branchial segments--Cranial region older than spinal--Three-root
system of cranial nerves: dorsal, lateral, ventral--Explanation of van
Wijhe's segments--Lateral mixed root is appendage-nerve of
invertebrate--The branchial chamber of Ammocoetes--The branchial
unit, not a pouch but an appendage--The origin of the branchial
musculature--The branchial circulation--The branchial heart of the
vertebrate--Not homologous with the systemic heart of the arthropod--
Its formation from two longitudinal venous sinuses--Summary 148
CHAPTER V
THE EVIDENCE OF THE THYROID GLAND
The value of the appendage-unit in non-branchial segments--The | 305.046489 | 1,472 |
2023-11-16 18:20:51.8253150 | 1,166 | 401 |
E-text prepared by Chuck Greif and the Project Gutenberg Online
Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images
generously made available by Internet Archive (http://www.archive.org)
Note: Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
http://www.archive.org/details/grandeenovel00palaiala
[Illustration: book cover]
Heinemann's International Library
Edited by Edmund Gosse
THE GRANDEE
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDES
THE GRANDEE
* * * * * *
_Heinemann's International Library._
Edited by EDMUND GOSSE.
_Crown 8vo, in paper covers, 2s. 6d., or cloth limp, 3s. 6d._
1. _IN GOD'S WAY._ From the Norwegian of
BJORNSTJERNE BJORNSON
2. _PIERRE AND JEAN._ From the French of
GUY DE MAUPASSANT.
3. _THE CHIEF JUSTICE._ From the German
of KARL EMIL FRANZOS.
4. _WORK WHILE YE HAVE THE LIGHT._
From the Russian of COUNT LYOF TOLSTOI.
5. _FANTASY._ From the Italian of MATILDE
SERAO.
6. _FROTH._ From the Spanish of DON ARMANDO
PALACIO VALDES.
7. _FOOTSTEPS OF FATE._ From the Dutch
of LOUIS COUPERUS.
8. _PEPITA JIMENEZ._ From the Spanish of
JUAN VALERA.
9. _THE COMMODORE'S DAUGHTERS._ From
the Norwegian of JONAS LIE.
10. _THE HERITAGE OF THE KURTS._ From
the Norwegian of BJORNSTJERNE BJORNSON.
11. _LOU._ From the German of BARON VON
ROBERTS.
12. _DONA LUZ._ From the Spanish of JUAN
VALERA.
13. _THE JEW._ From the Polish of JOSEPH I.
KRASZEWSKI.
14. _UNDER THE YOKE._ From the Bulgarian
of IVAN VAZOFF.
15. _FAREWELL LOVE!_ From the Italian of
MATILDE SERAO.
16. _THE GRANDEE._ From the Spanish of DON
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDES.
_In preparation._
_A COMMON STORY._ From the Russian of
GONCHAROF.
_NIOBE._ From the Norwegian of JONAS LIE.
_Each Volume contains a specially written Introduction by the Editor._
LONDON: W. HEINEMANN, 21 BEDFORD ST., W.C.
* * * * * *
THE GRANDEE
A Novel
by
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDES
Translated from the Spanish by Rachel Challice
[Illustration: logo]
London
William Heinemann
1894
[_All rights reserved_]
INTRODUCTION
According to the Spanish critics, the novel has flourished in Spain
during only two epochs--the golden age of Cervantes and the period in
which we are still living. That unbroken line of romance-writing which
has existed for so long a time in France and in England, is not to be
looked for in the Peninsula. The novel in Spain is a re-creation of our
own days; but it has made, since the middle of the nineteenth century,
two or three fresh starts. The first modern Spanish novelists were what
are called the _walter-scottistas_, although they were inspired as much
by George Sand as by the author of _Waverley_. These writers were of a
romantic order, and Fernan Caballero, whose earliest novel dates from
1849, was at their head. The Revolution of September, 1868, marked an
advance in Spanish fiction, and Valera came forward as the leader of a
more national and more healthily vitalised species of imaginative work.
The pure and exquisite style of Valera is, doubtless, only to be
appreciated by a Castilian. Something of its charm may be divined,
however, even in the English translation of his masterpiece, _Pepita
Jimenez_. The mystical and aristocratic genius of Valera appealed to a
small audience; he has confided to the world that when all were praising
but few were buying his books.
Far greater fecundity and a more directly successful appeal to the
public, were, somewhat later, the characteristics of Perez y Galdos,
whose vigorous novels, spoiled a little for a foreign reader by their
didactic diffuseness, are well-known in this country. In the hands of
Galdos, a further step was taken by Spanish fiction towards the
rejection of romantic optimism and the adoption of a modified realism.
In Pereda, so the Spanish critics tell us, a still more valiant champion
of naturalism was found, whose studies of local manners in the province
of Santander recall to mind the paintings of Teniers. About 1875 was the
date when the struggle commenced in good earnest between the schools of
romanticism and realism. In 1881 Galdos definitely joined the ranks of
the realists with his _La Desheredada_. An eminent Spanish writer,
Emilio Pardo Bazan, | 305.144725 | 1,473 |
2023-11-16 18:20:51.8844910 | 181 | 246 |
Produced by Mardi Desjardins, Waverley Dovey & the online
Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at
http://www.pgdpcanada.net
Patty in the City
BY
CAROLYN WELLS
AUTHOR OF
TWO LITTLE WOMEN SERIES,
THE MARJORIE SERIES, ETC.
[Illustration]
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
COPYRIGHT, 1905,
BY
DODD, MEAD & COMPANY
_All rights reserved_
PRINTED IN U.S.A.
_To_
_Dorothy Esterbrook_
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I PLANS 1
II A LAST MEETING 13
III | 305.203901 | 1,474 |
2023-11-16 18:20:51.8999900 | 4,086 | 53 |
Produced by David Widger from page images generously
provided by the Internet Archive
THE YOUNG EMPEROR, WILLIAM II OF GERMANY
A Study In Character Development On A Throne
By Harold Frederic
Author Of “In The Valley “The Lawton Girl”
With Portraits
New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons
1891
[Illustration: 0011]
[Illustration: 0012]
TO MY EDITOR, AND EVEN MORE TO MY FRIEND,
CHARLES R. MILLER
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED
THE YOUNG EMPEROR, WILLIAM II OF GERMANY
CHAPTER I.--THE SUPREMACY OF THE HOHENZOLLERNS.
In June of 1888, an army of workmen were toiling in the Champ de Mars
upon the foundations of a noble World’s Exhibition, planned to celebrate
the centenary of the death by violence of the Divine Right of Kings.
Four thousand miles westward, in the city of Chicago, some seven
hundred delegates were assembled in National Convention, to select the
twenty-third President of a great Republic, which also stood upon the
threshold of its hundredth birthday. These were both suggestive facts,
full of hopeful and inspiring thoughts to the serious mind. Considered
together by themselves they seemed very eloquent proofs of the progress
which Liberty, Enlightenment, the Rights of Man, and other admirable
abstractions spelled with capital letters, had made during the century.
But, unfortunately or otherwise, history will not take them by
themselves. That same June of 1888 witnessed a spectacle of quite
another sort in a third large city--a spectacle which gave the lie
direct to everything that Paris and Chicago seemed to say. This sharp
and clamorous note of contradiction came from Berlin, where a helmeted
and crimson-cloaked young man, still in his thirtieth year, stood erect
on a throne, surrounded by the bowing forms of twenty ruling sovereigns,
and proclaimed, with the harsh, peremptory voice of a drill-sergeant,
that he was a War Lord, a Mailed Hand of Providence, and a sovereign
specially conceived, created, and invested with power by God, for the
personal government of some fifty millions of people.
It is much to be feared that, in the ears of the muse of history, the
resounding shrillness of this voice drowned alike the noise of the
hammers on the banks of the Seine and the cheering of the delegates at
Chicago.
Any man, standing on that throne in the White Saloon of the old
Schloss at Berlin, would have to be a good deal considered by his
fellow-creatures. Even if we put aside the tremendous international
importance of the position of a German Emperor, in that gravely open
question of peace or war, he must compel attention as the visible
embodiment of a fact, the existence of which those who like it least
must still recognize. This is the fact: that the Hohenzollerns, having
done many notable things in other times, have in our day revivified
and popularized the monarchical idea, not only in Germany, but to a
considerable extent elsewhere throughout Europe. It is too much to say,
perhaps, that they have made it beloved in any quarter which was hostile
before. But they have brought it to the front under new conditions, and
secured for it admiring notice as the mainspring of a most efficient,
exact, vigorous, and competent system of government. They have made an
Empire with it--a magnificent modern machine, in which army and civil
service and subsidiary federal administrations all move together like
the wheels of a watch. Under the impulse of this idea they have not only
brought governmental order out of the old-time chaos of German divisions
and dissensions, but they have given their subjects a public service,
which, taken all in all, is more effective and well-ordered than its
equivalent produced by popular institutions in America, France, or
England, and they have built up a fighting force for the protection of
German frontiers which is at once the marvel and the terror of Europe.
Thus they have, as has been said, rescued the ancient and time-worn
function of kingship from the contempt and odium into which it had
fallen during the first half of the century, and rendered it once more
respectable in the eyes of a utilitarian world.
But it is not enough to be useful, diligent, and capable. If it were,
the Orleans Princes might still be living in the Tuileries. A kingly
race, to maintain or increase its strength, must appeal to the national
imagination. The Hohenzollerns have been able to do this. The Prussian
imagination is largely made up of appetite, and their Kings, however
fatuous and limited of vision they may have been in other matters, have
never lost sight of this fact. If we include the Great Elector, there
have been ten of these Kings, and of the ten eight have made Prussia
bigger than they found her. Sometimes the gain has been clutched out of
the smoke and flame of battle; sometimes it has more closely resembled
burglary, or bank embezzlement on a large scale; once or twice it has
come in the form of gifts from interested neighbours, in which category,
perhaps, the cession of Heligoland may be placed--but gain of some sort
there has always been, save only in the reign of Frederic William IV and
the melancholy three months of Frederic III.
That there should be a great affection for and pride in the
Hohenzollerns in Prussia was natural enough. They typified the strength
of beak, the power of talons and sweeping wings, which had made Prussia
what she was. But nothing save a very remarkable train of surprising
events could have brought the rest of Germany to share this affection
and pride.
The truth is, of course, that up to 1866 most other Germans disliked
the Prussians thoroughly and vehemently, and decorated those head
Prussians, the Hohenzollerns, with an extremity of antipathy. That
brief war in Bohemia, with the consequent annexation of Hanover,
Hesse-Cassel, Nassau, and Frankfort, did not inspire any new love for
the Prussians anywhere, we may be sure, but it did open the eyes of
other Germans to the fact that their sovereigns--Kings, Electors, Grand
Dukes, and what not--were all collectively not worth the right arm of a
single Hohenzollern.
It was a good deal to learn even this--and, turning over this revelation
in their minds, the Germans by 1871 were in a mood to move almost
abreast of Prussia in the apotheosis of the victor of Sedan and Paris.
To the end of old William’s life in 1888, there was always more or less
of the apotheosis about the Germans’ attitude toward him. He was never
quite real to them in the sense that Leopold is real in Brussels
or Humbert in Rome. The German imagination always saw him as he is
portrayed in the fine fresco by Wislicenus in the ancient imperial
palace at Goslar--a majestic figure, clad in modern war trappings yet of
mythical aspect, surrounded, it is true, by the effigies of recognizable
living Kings, Queens, and Generals, but escorted also by heroic
ancestral shades, as he rides forward out of the canvas. Close behind
him rides his son, Fritz, and he, too, following in the immediate shadow
of his father to the last, lives only now in pictures and in sad musing
dreams of what might have been.
But William II--the young Kaiser and King--_is_ a reality. He has won no
battles. No antique legends wreathe their romantic mists about him. It
has occurred to no artist to paint him on a palace wall, with the mailed
shadows of mediaeval Barbarossas and Conrads and Sigismunds overhead.
The group of helmeted warriors who cluster about those two mounted
figures in the Goslar picture, and who, in the popular fancy, bring
down to our own time some of the attributes of mediaeval devotion and
prowess--this group is dispersed now. Moltke, Prince Frederic Charles,
Roon, Manteuffel, and many others are dead; Blumenthal is in
dignified retirement; Bismarck is at Friedrichsruh. New men crowd the
scene--clever organizers, bright and adroit parliamentarians, competent
administrators, but still fashioned quite of our own clay--busy new men
whom we may look at without hurting our eyes.
For the first time, therefore, it is possible to study this prodigious
new Germany, its rulers and its people, in a practical way, without
being either dazzled by the disproportionate brilliancy of a few
individuals or drawn into side-paths after picturesque unrealities.
*****
Three years of this new reign have shown us Germany by daylight
instead of under the glamour and glare of camp fires and triumphal
illuminations. We see now that the Hohenzollern stands out in the far
front, and that the other German royalties, Wendish, Slavonic, heirs
of Wittekind, portentously ancient barbaric dynasties of all sorts, are
only vaguely discernible in the background. During the lifetime of the
old Kaiser it seemed possible that their eclipse might be of only a
temporary nature. Nowhere can such an idea be cherished now. Young
William dwarfs them all by comparison even more strikingly than did his
grandfather.
They all came to Berlin to do him homage at the opening of the
Reichstag, which inaugurated his reign on June 25, 1888. They will never
make so brave a show again; even then they twinkled like poor tallow
dips beside the shining personality of their young Prussian chief.
Almost all of them are of royal lines older than that of the
Hohenzollerns. Five of the principal personages among them--the King of
Saxony, the Regent representing Bavaria’s crazy King, the heir-apparent
representing the semi-crazy King of Wurtemberg, the Grand Duke of Baden,
and the Grand Duke of Hesse-Darmstadt--owe their titles in their present
form to Napoleon, who paid their ancestors in this cheap coin for
their wretched treason and cowardice in joining with him to crush and
dismember Prussia. Now they are at the feet of Prussia, not indeed in
the posture of conquered equals, but as liveried political subordinates.
No such wiping out of sovereign authorities and emasculation of
sovereign dignities has been seen before since Louis XI consolidated
France 500 years ago. Let us glance at some of these vanishing royalties
for a moment, that we may the better measure the altitude to which the
Hohenzollern has climbed.
There was a long time during the last century when people looked upon
Saxony as the most powerful and important State in the Protestant part
of Germany. It is an Elector of Saxony who shines forth in history as
Luther’s best friend and resolute protector. For more than a hundred
years thereafter Saxony led in the armed struggles of Protestantism to
maintain itself against the leagued Catholic powers.
Then, in 1694, there ascended the electoral throne the cleverest and
most showy man of the whole Albertine family, who for nearly thirty
years was to hold the admiring attention of Europe. We can see now that
it was a purblind and debased Europe which believed August _der Starke_
to be a great man; but in his own times there was no end to what he
thought of himself or to what others thought of him. It was regarded as
a superb stroke of policy when, in 1697, he got himself elected King of
Poland--a promotion which inspired the jealous Elector of Branden-berg
to proclaim himself King of Prussia four years later. August abjured
Protestantism to obtain the Polish crown, and his descendants are
Catholics to this day, though Saxony is strongly Protestant. August
did many wonderful things in his time--made Dresden the superb city of
palaces and museums it is, among other matters, and was the father of
354 natural children, as his own proud computation ran. A tremendous
fellow, truly, who liked to be called the Louis XIV of Germany, and
tried his best to live up to the ideal!
Contemporary observers would have laughed at the idea that Frederick
William, the surly, bearish Prussian King, with his tobacco orgies and
giant grenadiers, was worth considering beside the brilliant, luxurious,
kingly August. Ah, “gay eupeptic son of Belial,” where is thy dynasty
now?
There is to-day a King of Saxony, descended six removes from this
August, who is distinctly the most interesting and valuable of these
minor sovereigns. He is a sagacious, prudent, soldierlike man, nominal
ruler of over three millions of people, actual Field Marshal in the
German Army which has a Hohenzollern for its head. Although he really
did some of the best fighting which the Franco-German war called forth,
nobody outside his own court and German military circles knows much
about it, or cares particularly about him. The very fact of his rank
prevents his generalship securing popular recognition. If he had been
merely of noble birth, or even a commoner, the chances are that he
would now be chief of the German General Staff instead of Count
von Schlieffen. Being only a king, his merits as a commander are
comprehended alone by experts.
There is just a bare possibility that this King Albert may be forced by
circumstances out of his present obscurity. He is only sixty-three years
old, and if a war should come within the next decade and involve defeat
to the German Army in the field, there would be a strong effort made
by the other subsidiary German sovereigns to bring him to the front as
Generalissimo.
As it is, his advice upon military matters is listened to in Berlin
more than is generally known, but in other respects his position is
a melancholy one. Even the kindliness with which the Kaisers have
personally treated him since 1870, cannot but wear to him the annoying
guise of patronage. He was a man of thirty-eight when his father, King
John, was driven out of Dresden by Prussian troops, along with the royal
family, and when for weeks it seemed probable that the whole kingdom of
Saxony would be annexed to Prussia. Bismarck’s failure to insist upon
this was bitterly criticised in Berlin at the time, and Gustav Frey-tag
actually wrote a book deprecating the further independent existence
of Saxony. Freytag and the Prussians generally confessed their mistake
after the young Saxon Crown Prince’s splendid achievement at Sedan; but
that could scarcely wipe from his memory what had gone before, and
even now, after the lapse of a quarter century, King Albert’s delicate,
clear-cut, white-whiskered face still bears the impress of melancholy
stamped on it by the humiliations of 1866.
Two other kings lurk much further back in the shadow of the
Hohenzollern--idiotic Otto of Bavaria and silly Charles of Wurtemberg.
Of the former much has been written, by way of complement to the
picturesque literature evoked by the tragedy of his strange brother
Louis’s death. In these two brothers the fantastic Wittelsbach blood,
filtering down from the Middle Ages through strata of princely scrofula
and imperial luxury, clotted rankly in utter madness.
As for the King of Würtemberg, whose undignified experiences in the
hands of foreign adventurers excited a year or two ago the wonderment
and mirth of mankind, he also pays the grievous penalty of heredity’s
laws. Writing thirty years back, Carlyle commented in this fashion upon
the royal house of Stuttgart: “There is something of the abstruse in
all these Beutelsbachers, from Ulric downwards--a mute _ennui_, an
inexorable obstinacy, a certain streak of natural gloom which no
illumination can abolish; articulate intellect defective: hence a
strange, stiff perversity of conduct visible among them, often marring
what wisdom they have. It is the royal stamp of Fate put upon these
men--what are called fateful or fated men.” * The present King Charles
was personally an unknown quantity when this picture of his house was
drawn. He is an old man now, and decidedly the most “abstruse” of his
whole family.
* “History of Friedrich II, of Prussia,” book vii. chapter
vi.
Thus these two ancient dynasties of Southern Germany, which helped to
make history for so many centuries, have come down into the mud. There
is an elderly regent uncle in Bavaria who possesses sense and
respectable abilities; and in Würtemberg there is an heir-apparent of
forty-three, the product of a marriage between first cousins, who is
said to possess ordinary intelligence. These will in time succeed to the
thrones which lunacy and asininity hold now in commission, but no one
expects that they will do more than render commonplace what is now
grotesquely impossible.
Of another line which was celebrated a thousand years ago, and which
flared into martial prominence for a little in its dying days, when this
century was young, nothing whatever is left. The Fighting Brunswickers
are all gone.
They had a fair right to this name, had the Guelphs of the old
homestead, for of the forty-five of them buried in the crypt of the
Brunswick Burg Kirche nine fell on the battlefield. This direct line
died out seven years ago with a curiously-original old Duke who bitterly
resented the new order of things, and took many whimsical ways of
showing his wrath. In the sense that he scorned to live in remodeled
Germany, and defied Prussia by ostentatiously exhibiting his sympathy
for the exiled Hanoverian house, he too may be said to have died
fighting. The collateral Guelphs who survive in other lands are anything
but fighters. The Prince of Wales is the foremost living male of the
family, and Bismarck’s acrid jeer that he was the only European Crown
Prince whom one did not occasionally meet on the battlefield, though | 305.2194 | 1,475 |
2023-11-16 18:20:51.9668570 | 396 | 136 |
Produced by Greg Bergquist, John Campbell and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors
have been corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences
within the text and consultation of external sources.
More detail can be found at the end of the book.
Revolutionary Reader
REMINISCENCES AND
INDIAN LEGENDS
COMPILED BY
SOPHIE LEE FOSTER
STATE REGENT
DAUGHTERS OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION OF GEORGIA
ATLANTA, GA.:
BYRD PRINTING COMPANY
1913
_COPYRIGHTED 1913_
_BY_
_SOPHIE LEE FOSTER_
_DEDICATION_
_As my work has been a labor of love, I therefore affectionately
dedicate this book to the Daughters of the
American Revolution of Georgia._
September 4, 1913.
MRS. SHEPPARD W. FOSTER,
Atlanta, Georgia.
My Dear Mrs. Foster:--To say that I am delighted with your
Revolutionary Reader is to state the sheer truth in very mild
terms. It is a marvel to me how you could gather together so many
charmingly written articles, each of them illustrative of some
dramatic phase of the great struggle for independence. There
is much in this book of local interest to each section. There
is literally nothing which does not carry with it an appeal of
the most profound interest to the general reader, whether in
Georgia or New | 305.286267 | 1,476 |
2023-11-16 18:20:52.1312750 | 1,314 | 243 |
Produced by This e-text was produced by Greg Weeks, Charles
Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
TOM SWIFT IN CAPTIVITY
OR
A Daring Escape by Airship
BY VICTOR APPLETON
AUTHOR OF "TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE," "TOM SWIFT AND HIS
WIRELESS MESSAGE," "TOM SWIFT IN THE CITY OF GOLD," ETC.
ILLUSTRATED
CONTENTS
I A STRANGE REQUEST
II THE CIRCUS MAN
III TOM WILL GO
IV "LOOK OUT FOR MY RIVAL!"
V ANDY FOGER LEARNS SOMETHING
VI ALARMING NEWS
VII FIRE ON BOARD
VIII A NARROW ESCAPE
IX "FORWARD MARCH!"
X A WILD HORSE STAMPEDE
XI CAUGHT IN A LIVING ROPE
XII A NATIVE BATTLE
XIII THE DESERTION
XIV IN GIANT LAND
XV IN THE "PALACE" OF THE KING
XVI THE RIVAL CIRCUS MAN
XVII HELD CAPTIVES
XVIII TOM'S MYSTERIOUS BOX
XIX WEAK GIANTS
XX THE LONE CAPTIVE
XXI A ROYAL CONSPIRACY
XXII THE TWIN GIANTS
XXIII A SURPRISE IN THE NIGHT
XXIV THE AIRSHIP FLIGHT
XXV TOM'S GIANT--CONCLUSION
CHAPTER I
A STRANGE REQUEST
Tom Swift closed the book of adventures he had been reading, tossed
it on the table, and got up. Then he yawned.
"What's the matter?" asked his chum, Ned Newton, who was deep in
another volume.
"Oh, I thought this was going to be something exciting," replied
Tom, motioning toward the book he had discarded. "But say! the
make-believe adventures that fellow had, weren't anything compared to
those we went through in the city of gold, or while rescuing the
exiles of Siberia."
"Well," remarked Ned, "they would have to be pretty classy
adventures to lay over those you and I have had lately. But where
are you going?" he continued, for Tom had taken his cap and started
for the door.
"I thought I'd go out and take a little run in the aeroplane. Want
to come along? It's more fun than sitting in the house reading about
exciting things that never have happened. Come on out and--"
"Yes, and have a tumble from the aeroplane, I suppose you were going
to say," interrupted Ned with a laugh. "Not much! I'm going to stay
here and finish this book."
"Say," demanded Tom indignantly. "Did you ever know me to have a
tumble since I knew how to run an airship?"
"No, I can't say that I did. I was only joking."
"Then you carried the joke too far, as the policeman said to the man
he found lugging off money from the bank. And to make up for it
you've got to come along with me."
"Where are you going?"
"Oh, anywhere. Just to take a little run in the upper regions, and
clear some of the cobwebs out of my head. I declare, I guess I've
got the spring fever. I haven't done anything since we got back from
Russia last fall, and I'm getting rusty."
"You haven't done ANYTHING!" exclaimed Ned, following his chum's
example by tossing aside the book. "Do you call working on your new
invention of a noiseless airship nothing?"
"Well, I haven't finished that yet. I'm tired of inventing things. I
just want to go off, and have some good fun, like getting
shipwrecked on a desert island, or being lost in the mountains, or
something like that. I want action. I want to get off in the jungle,
and fight wild beasts, and escape from the savages!"
"Say! you don't want much," commented Ned. "But I feel the same way,
Tom."
"Then come on out and take a run, and maybe we'll get on the track
of an adventure," urged the young inventor. "We won't go far, just
twenty or thirty miles or so."
The two youths emerged from the house and started across the big
lawn toward the aeroplane sheds, for Tom Swift owned several speedy
aircrafts, from a big combined aeroplane and dirigible balloon, to a
little monoplane not much larger than a big bird, but which was the
most rapid flier that ever breathed the fumes of gasolene.
"Which one you going to take, Tom?" asked Ned, as his chum paused in
front of the row of hangars.
"Oh, the little double-seated monoplane, I guess that's in good
shape, and it's easy to manage. When I'm out for fun I hate to be
tinkering with levers and warping wing tips all the while. The Lark
practically flies herself, and we can sit back and take it easy.
I'll have Eradicate fill up the gasolene tank, while I look at the
magneto. It needs a little adjusting, though it works nearly to
perfection since I put in some of that new platinum we got from the
lost mine in Siberia."
"Yes, that was a trip that amounted to something. I wouldn't mind
going on another like that, though we ran lots of risks."
"We sure did," agreed Tom, and then, raising his voice he called
out: "Rad, I say Rad! Where are you? I want you!"
"Comin', massa Tom, comin'," answered an aged <DW52> man, as he
shuffled around the corner of the shed. "What do yo'-all want ob
me?"
"Put some gasolene in the | 305.450685 | 1,477 |
2023-11-16 18:20:52.6387480 | 1,176 | 548 |
Produced by Al Haines
[Frontispiece: W. Clark Russell]
INTERNATIONAL SHORT STORIES
EDITED BY
WILLIAM PATTEN
A NEW COLLECTION OF
FAMOUS EXAMPLES
FROM THE LITERATURES
OF ENGLAND, FRANCE
AND AMERICA
ENGLISH
P F COLLIER & SON
NEW YORK
Copyright, 1910
BY P. F. COLLIER & SON
The use of the copyrighted stories in this collection has been
authorized in each case by their authors or by their representatives.
ENGLISH STORIES
THE TWO DROVERS ................. By Sir Walter Scott
MR. DEUCEACE................... By W. M. Thackeray
THE BROTHERS.................. Edward Bulmer Lytton
DOCTOR MANETTE'S MANUSCRIPT ........... By Charles Dickens
THE CALDRON OF OIL................. By Wilkie Collins
THE BURIAL OF THE TITHE ............... By Samuel Lover
THE KNIGHTSBRIDGE MYSTERY ............. By Charles Reade
THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD ........... By Rudyard Kipling
THE SIRE DE MALETROIT'S DOOR........... By R. L. Stevenson
THE SECRET OF GORESTHORPE GRANGE........ By Sir A. Conan Doyle
A CHANGE OF TREATMENT ................ By W. W. Jacobs
THE STICKIT MINISTER................ By S. R. Crockett
THE LAMMAS PREACHING................ By S. R. Crockett
AN UNDERGRADUATE'S AUNT ................ By F. Anstey
THE SILHOUETTES ............... By A. T. Quiller-Couch
MY BROTHER HENRY................... By J. M. Barrie
GILRAY'S FLOWER POT ................. By J. M. Barrie
MR. O'LEARY'S SECOND LOVE ............. By Charles Lever
THE INDIFFERENCE OF THE MILLER OF HOFBAU... By Anthony Hope Hawkins
THE STOLEN BODY ................... By H. G. Wells
THE LAZARETTE OF THE "HUNTRESS" ......... By W. Clark Russell
THE GREAT TRIANGULAR DUEL ....... By Captain Frederick Marryat
THREE THIMBLES AND A PEA.............. By George Borrow
THE TWO DROVERS
By SIR WALTER SCOTT
CHAPTER I
It was the day after Donne Fair when my story commences. It had been a
brisk market: several dealers had attended from the northern and
midland counties in England, and English money had flown so merrily
about as to gladden the hearts of the Highland farmers. Many large
droves were about to set off for England, under the protection of their
owners, or of the topsmen whom they employed in the tedious, laborious,
and responsible office of driving the cattle for many hundred miles,
from the market where they had been purchased to the fields or
farm-yards where they were to be fattened for the shambles.
The Highlanders in particular are masters of this difficult trade of
driving, which seems to suit them as well as the trade of war. It
affords exercise for all their habits of patient endurance and active
exertion. They are required to know perfectly the drove-roads, which
lie over the wildest tracts of the country, and to avoid as much as
possible the highways, which distress the feet of the bullocks, and the
turnpikes, which annoy the spirit of the drover; whereas on the broad
green or grey track, which leads across the pathless moor, the herd not
only move at ease and without taxation, but, if they mind their
business, may pick up a mouthful of food by the way. At night, the
drovers usually sleep along with their cattle, let the weather be what
it will; and many of these hardy men do not once rest under a roof
during a journey on foot from Lochaber to Lincolnshire | 305.958158 | 1,478 |
2023-11-16 18:20:52.7873140 | 1,085 | 409 | LIFE AND WORK, VOLUME II (OF 2)***
E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram and the Online Distributed Proofreading
Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
Note: Project Gutenberg has the other volume of this work.
Volume I: see http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45130
Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
[Illustration: CHARLES BRADLAUGH Born Sept. 26, 1833 Died Jan. 30,
1891]
CHARLES BRADLAUGH
A Record of His Life and Work by His Daughter.
HYPATIA BRADLAUGH BONNER.
With an Account of his Parliamentary Struggle
Politics and Teachings by
JOHN M. ROBERTSON, M.P.
Seventh Edition
With Portraits and Appendices
T. Fisher Unwin
London Leipsic
Adelphi Terrace Inselstrasse 20
1908
All Rights Reserved
VOL. II.
CHAPTER I.
IN THE UNITED STATES AGAIN 1
The _Parthia_--Mr J. Walter, M.P.--Sumner's opinion
of Mr Bradlaugh's lecture--The Delaware Clionian Society--Milwaukee
--Chicago--Intense cold--Mrs Lucretia Mott--A third
lecturing tour--Dr Otis--The currency question--Religious
animus--Death of Henry Wilson--In St Luke's Hospital, New
York, with typhoid fever--Moncure D. Conway--Return.
CHAPTER II.
MRS BESANT 12
A friend lost--A friend gained--Mrs Besant and Mr Bradlaugh--"Ajax"--The
Knowlton pamphlet--Advantages and disadvantages
of a dual defence.
CHAPTER III.
THE PROSECUTION OF MR BRADLAUGH AND MRS BESANT 20
Appointment to sell the pamphlet--Arrested on a warrant--At
the Guildhall--Application for a writ of _certiorari_--The Lord
Chief Justice--Who was the prosecutor?--The trial at Westminster--The
witnesses--The jury--The verdict--The judgment--Execution
of sentence stayed--The Court of Appeal quashes
indictment--Expenses of defence paid by subscription--The City--Other
proceedings--Mr Truelove's trial and sentence--Effect of
the prosecutions.
CHAPTER IV.
AN UNIMPORTANT CHAPTER 30
Side lights--"Man, whence and how?"--The Turberville legacy--From
Turner Street to Circus Road--Selling the Knowlton
pamphlet--The day of arrest--At Westminster--Mr G. J. Holyoake--The
hearing of the sentence--A riding accident.
CHAPTER V.
MORE DEBATES 39
Rev. Brewin Grant--Rev. A. Mursell--Mr Walter R. Browne--Mr
Robert Roberts, a Christadelphian--Mr William Simpson--Mr
Gordon--Rev. John Lightfoot--Rev. R. A. Armstrong--Rev.
W. M. Westerby.
CHAPTER VI.
SOME LATER LECTURES 52
At Oxford--The Suez Canal--Carrying "consolation"--At
Congleton--At Newman Street, London--Edinburgh--Professor
Flint--Scarborough.
CHAPTER VII.
LUNATICS 59
Letters--"A mission from God"--John Sladen and the Queen.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE "WATCH" STORY 63
The defiance of Deity an ancient idea--_The British Monarchy_--Abner
Kneeland--Emma Martin--G. J. Holyoake--Charles
Capper, M. P.--The _Razor_--Rev. P. R. Jones, M. A., Dr Harrison,
and other clergymen--The _Christian_ and other journals--The
Rev. Basil Wilberforce--Dr Parker--The _British Empire_--_Prosecution_
of Edgecumbe--Reckless swearing--A bad plea,
"embarrassing and unfair"--Edgecumbe missing--The reward
of Mr Bradlaugh's forbearance.
CHAPTER IX.
OTHER FABLES 76
The "cob of coal"--The "old woman"--Story narrated by
the Rev. H. W. Webb-Peploe--Personal slanders--The _World_--Action
against Mr Laker--Poisoning the Prince of Wales--A
"bagman"--A common accusation.
CHAPTER X.
PEACE DEMONSTRATIONS, 1878 82
The "Jingo" fever--Meetings in favour of peace--Auberon
Herbert and C. Bradlaugh in Hyde Park--Preparing for difficulties--The
war party--The fight--Second | 306.106724 | 1,479 |
2023-11-16 18:20:52.8072430 | 1,282 | 66 |
Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland, Music transcribed by
June Troyer. and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
at http://www.pgdp.net Music transcribed by Linda Cantoni.
THE CHAUTAUQUAN.
_A MONTHLY MAGAZINE DEVOTED TO THE PROMOTION OF TRUE CULTURE. ORGAN OF
THE CHAUTAUQUA LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC CIRCLE._
VOL. III. MARCH, 1883. No. 6.
Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle.
_President_, Lewis Miller, Akron, Ohio.
_Superintendent of Instruction_, J. H. Vincent, D. D., Plainfield, N. J.
_General Secretary_, Albert M. Martin, Pittsburgh, Pa.
_Office Secretary_, Miss Kate F. Kimball, Plainfield, N. J.
_Counselors_, Lyman Abbott, D. D.; J. M. Gibson, D. D.; Bishop H. W.
Warren, D. D.; W. C. Wilkinson, D. D.
Transcriber's Note: This table of contents of this
periodical was created to aid the reader.
Contents
REQUIRED READING
History of Russia
Chapter VIII.The Lithuanian and Livonian Orders 303
A Glance at the History and Literature of Scandinavia
Chapter V.The Romance of Axel 305
Pictures from English History
VI.A Picturesque Half-Century 309
SUNDAY READINGS
[March 4.]
The False Balance Detected by the True 311
[March 11.]
Three Dispensations in History and in the Soul 313
[March 18.]
Three Dispensations 314
[March 25.]
Three Dispensations 316
Practice and Habit 317
Thoughts and Aphorisms 318
The Comet That Came But Once 319
My Winter Garden 320
Science and Common Sense 321
The Sorrow of the Sea 322
Anecdotes of Fashion 323
Language in Animals 323
The Electric Light 325
Among the Mountains 326
New Mexico 327
Speculation in Theology 329
Advantage of Warm Clothing 332
In Him Confiding 335
The History of Education
V.Egypt, Phnicia, Judea 336
Song 338
Tales from ShakspereMacbeth 338
Before Daybreak, With the Great Comet of 1882 341
Social Duties in the Family 342
C. L. S. C. Work 345
C. L. S. C. Songs 346
A Sweet Surprise 346
Local Circles 347
Questions and Answers
One Hundred Questions and Answers on Recreations
in Astronomy 353
Answers to Questions For Further Study in the January Number 355
Outline of C. L. S. C. Studies 356
C. L. S. C. Round-TableHow to Read Together Profitably 356
The Study of French 358
Editors Outlook 359
Editors Note-Book 361
Editors Table 363
Our Daily Bread 363
New Books 364
REQUIRED READING
FOR THE
_Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle for 1882-83_.
MARCH.
HISTORY OF RUSSIA.
By MRS. MARY S. ROBINSON.
_CHAPTER VIII._
THE LITHUANIAN AND LIVONIAN ORDERS.
In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, three new races entered
Slavonia whose character essentially modified its subsequent history.
From the northwest came the Germans, from the east the Tartar Mongols,
from the west the Lithuanians. The modern Russian divisions of Livonia
and Esthonia, with the outlying regions, were peopled in the ninth
century with the Tchud or Lett tribes, of the Finnish race,the most
ancient, it is believed, of living European peoples. The Russian Finns
of the present time number one and a half million souls; but though
they long retained their distinctive nationality, they have yielded
to the process of Russification, and to-day, among the majority
of them, their ancient character is noticeable merely by certain
peculiarities of physiognomy and dialect. They are short and thick
of stature, tough as oak, and of a hickory hue. The countenance is
blurred and unfinished, so to speak. The face is broad and flat, the
cheek bones high, the nose depressed and bridgeless. Their dialects are
primitive and meager. Their manners and superstitions are traceable
to the earliest of known races; their religious observances antedate
those of any known form of paganism. They remain, in fact, pagan at
heart, loyal to their ancient gods, though with these they are willing
to give Saint Nicholas some qualified homage. They recognize a good
and an evil principle, both to be equally revered. An offspring and
mingling of the two is Keremet, who, with his progeny of Keremets, is
more mischievous than malevolent, and to whom, far in the depths of
the forests, offerings and sacrifices are made. The evil principle is
Shaïtan, philologically allied with the Arabic Shatana, and the still
older Hebrew Sâtân. The Finn buys his bride, by paying to her father a
_kalm_ or fee. With his fellows he practices an | 306.126653 | 1,480 |
2023-11-16 18:20:53.2022550 | 1,148 | 501 |
Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.
A Big Temptation.
[Illustration: "_What are you doing with that baby?_"]
A Big Temptation
By
L. T. Meade,
And Other Stories
by
M. B. Manwell and Maggie Browne
Illustrated by
Arthur A. Dixon
LONDON: _Printed in Bavaria._ _NEW YORK:_
ERNEST NISTER. 640. E. P. DUTTON & CO.
[Illustration]
A Big Temptation
By
L. T. Meade.
Netty stood on the doorstep of a rickety old house and nursed the baby.
She was ten years old and had the perfectly white face of a child who
had never felt any fresher air than that which blows in a London court.
It is true that the year before she had gone with her brother Ben into
the country. The Ladies' Committee of the Holiday Fund had arranged the
matter, and Netty and Ben had gone away. They had spent a whole
delicious fortnight in a place where trees waved, and the air blew
fresh, and there were lots of wildflowers to pick; and she had run about
under the trees, and slept at night in the tiniest little room in the
world, and in the cleanest bed, and had awakened each morning to hear
the doves cooing and the birds singing, and she had thought then that no
happiness could be greater than hers.
This had happened a year ago, and since then a new baby had arrived,
and the baby was rather sickly, and whenever Netty was not at school she
was lugging the baby about or trying to rock him to sleep. She was
baby's nurse, and she was not at all sorry, for she loved the baby and
the occupation gave her time to dream.
Netty had big dark-blue eyes, which showed bigger and darker than ever
in the midst of her white little face. She could talk to the baby about
the country. How often she had told him the story of that brief
fortnight!
"And you know, baby, there were real flowers growing; we picked them,
Ben and I, and we rolled about in the grass; yes, we did. You needn't
believe it unless you like, baby, but we did. Oh! it was fine. I had no
headaches there, and I could eat almost anything, and if you never heard
doves cooing, why, you never heard what's really pretty. But never mind:
your time will come--not yet awhile, but some day."
On this particular July afternoon the sun was so hot and the air so
close that even Netty could not find it in her heart to be cheerful.
"Oh, dear!" she said, with a deep sigh, "I do wish it were my turn for
the country this year. I would take you with me--yes, I would, baby. I
wouldn't mind a bit lugging you about, though you are getting heavy. I
wish it were my luck to be going this year, but there isn't a chance."
She had scarcely uttered the last words before Ben's face was seen
peeping at her from behind a corner.
Ben was a year older than his sister; he had long trousers very much
patched about the knees, and a shock head of rough red hair. Next to
baby, Netty loved him best in the world. He beckoned to her now, looking
very knowing.
"I say, come here--here's a lark," he said; "come round the corner and
I'll show you something."
Netty jumped up and, staggering under the weight of the heavy baby,
approached the spot where Ben was waiting for her.
"Such a lark!" he continued; "you never heard tell anything like it. I
say, Netty, what do you say to the seaside for a whole day, you and me
together? We can go, yes, we can. To-morrow's the day; I have the
tickets. What do you say?"
"Say?" cried Netty; "why, of course I say go; but it isn't true--it
can't be true."
[Illustration]
"Yes, it is," answered Ben. "I was standing by the scholars at the
school-house as they was coming out, and they were all getting their
tickets for the seaside treat, and I dashed in behind another boy, and a
teacher came round giving out the tickets and I grabbed two. He said to
me: 'Are you a Sunday scholar?' and I said: 'Yes, I am,' and there was a
big crowd and no one listened. I got two tickets, one for you and one
for me, and we'll go to-morrow. It's to a place called Southend. There's
a special train for us, and we'll take our chance. Oh, isn't it fun?
We'll see the waves and we'll feel the breezes and we'll bathe. My word!
I don't know whether I'm standing on my head or my heels."
"Do show me the tickets, Ben," said Netty.
Ben thrust his hand into his trousers pocket and presently | 306.521665 | 1,481 |
2023-11-16 18:20:53.3404130 | 390 | 96 |
E-text prepared by Project Gutenberg volunteers
and revised by Joseph E. Loewenstein, M.D.
THE FOUR MILLION
by
O. HENRY
Not very long ago some one invented the assertion that there were
only "Four Hundred" people in New York City who were really worth
noticing. But a wiser man has arisen--the census taker--and his
larger estimate of human interest has been preferred in marking out
the field of these little stories of the "Four Million."
Contents:
TOBIN'S PALM
THE GIFT OF THE MAGI
A COSMOPOLITE IN A CAFE
BETWEEN ROUNDS
THE SKYLIGHT ROOM
A SERVICE OF LOVE
THE COMING-OUT OF MAGGIE
MAN ABOUT TOWN
THE COP AND THE ANTHEM
AN ADJUSTMENT OF NATURE
MEMOIRS OF A YELLOW DOG
THE LOVE-PHILTRE OF IKEY SCHOENSTEIN
MAMMON AND THE ARCHER
SPRINGTIME A LA CARTE
THE GREEN DOOR
FROM THE CABBY'S SEAT
AN UNFINISHED STORY
THE CALIPH, CUPID AND THE CLOCK
SISTERS OF THE GOLDEN CIRCLE
THE ROMANCE OF A BUSY BROKER
AFTER TWENTY YEARS
LOST ON DRESS PARADE
BY COURIER
THE FURNISHED ROOM
THE BRIEF DEBUT OF TILDY
TOBIN'S PALM
Tobin and me, the two of us, went down to Coney one day, for there was
four dollars between us, and Tobin had need of distractions. For there
was Katie Mahorner, his sweetheart, of County Sligo, lost since she
started for America three months before with two hundred dollars, her
own savings, and | 306.659823 | 1,482 |
2023-11-16 18:20:53.4535640 | 1,756 | 111 |
Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by Google Books
Transcriber's Notes:
1. Page scan source: Google Books
https://books.google.com/books?id=0nrlugEACAAJ
(the Bavarian State Library)
COLLECTION
OF
BRITISH AUTHORS
TAUCHNITZ EDITION.
VOL. 1270.
WITHIN THE MAZE BY MRS. HENRY WOOD.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
WITHIN THE MAZE.
A NOVEL.
BY
MRS. HENRY WOOD,
AUTHOR OF "EAST LYNNE," ETC.
_COPYRIGHT EDITION_.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
LEIPZIG
BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ
1872.
_The Right of Translation is reserved_.
CONTENTS
OF VOLUME I.
CHAPTER
I. Mrs. Andinnian's Home.
II. Lucy Cleeve.
III. Done at Sunset.
IV. The Trial.
V. Unable to get strong.
VI. An Atmosphere of Mystery.
VII. At the Charing-Cross Hotel.
VIII. In the Avenue d'Antin.
IX. Down at Foxwood.
X. Mrs. Andinnian's Secret.
XI. At the Gate of the Maze.
XII. Taking an Evening Stroll.
XIII. Miss Blake gets in.
XIV. Miss Blake on the Watch.
XV. Revealed to Lady Andinnian.
XVI. A Night at the Maze.
XVII. Before the World.
XVIII. A Night Alarm.
XIX. In the same Train.
XX. Only one Fly at the Station.
XXI. Hard to Bear.
XXII. With his Brother.
WITHIN THE MAZE.
CHAPTER I.
Mrs. Andinnian's Home.
The house was ugly and old-fashioned, with some added modern
improvements, and was surrounded by a really beautiful garden. Though
situated close upon a large market town of Northamptonshire, it stood
alone, excluded from the noise and bustle of the world.
The occupant of this house was a widow lady, Mrs. Andinnian. Her
husband, a post-captain in the Royal Navy, had been dead some years.
She had two sons. The elder, Adam, was of no profession, and lived
with her: the younger, Karl, was a lieutenant in one of Her Majesty's
regiments. Adam was presumptive heir to his uncle, Sir Joseph
Andinnian, a baronet of modern creation: Karl had his profession alone
to look to, and a small private income of two hundred a year.
They were not rich, these Andinnians: though the captain had deemed
himself well-off, what with his private fortune, and what with his
pay. The private fortune was just six hundred a year; the pay not
great: but Captain Andinnian's tastes were simple, his wants few. At
his death it was found that he had bequeathed his money in three equal
parts: two hundred a year to his wife, and two hundred each to his
sons. "Adam and his mother will live together," he said in the will;
"she'd not be parted from him: and four hundred pounds, with her bit
of pension, will be enough for comfort. When Adam succeeds his uncle,
they can make any fresh arrangement that pleases them. But I hope when
that time shall come they will not forget Karl."
Mrs. Andinnian resented the will, and resented these words in it. Her
elder boy, Adam, had always been first and foremost with her: never a
mother loved a son more ardently than she loved him. For Karl she
cared not. Captain Andinnian was not blind to the injustice, and
perhaps thence arose the motive that induced him not to leave his
wife's two hundred pounds of income at her own disposal: when Mrs.
Andinnian died, it would lapse to Karl. The captain had loved his sons
equally: he would willingly have left them equally provided for in
life, and divided the fortune that was to come sometime to Adam. Mrs.
Andinnian, in spite of the expected rise for Adam, would have had him
left better off from his father's means than Karl.
There had been nearly a lifelong feud between the two family
branches. Sir Joseph Andinnian and his brother the captain had not met
for years and years: and it was a positive fact that the latter's sons
had never seen their uncle. For this feud the brothers themselves were
not in the first instance to blame. It did not arise with them, but
with their wives. Both ladies were of a haughty, overbearing, and
implacable temper: they had quarrelled very soon after their first
introduction to each other; the quarrel grew, and grew, and finally
involved the husbands as well in its vortex.
Joseph Andinnian, who was the younger of the two brothers, had been a
noted and very successful civil engineer. Some great work, that he had
originated and completed, gained him his reward--a baronetcy. While he
was in the very flush of his new honours, an accident, that he met
with, laid him for many months upon a sick-bed. Not only that: it
incapacitated him for future active service. So, when he was little
more than a middle-aged man, he retired from his profession, and took
up his abode for life at a pretty estate he had bought in Kent,
called Foxwood Court, barely an hour's railway journey from London: by
express train not much more than half one. Here, he and his wife had
lived since: Sir Joseph growing more and more of an invalid as the
years went on. They had no children; consequently his brother, Captain
Andinnian, was heir to the baronetcy: and, following on Captain
Andinnian, Adam, the captain's eldest son.
Captain Andinnian did not live to succeed. In what seemed the pride of
his health and strength, just after he had landed from a three years'
voyage, and was indulging in ambitious visions of a flag, symptoms of
a mortal disease manifested themselves. He begged of his physicians to
let him know the truth; and they complied--he must expect but a very
few weeks more of life. Captain Andinnian, after taking a day or two
to look matters fully in the face, went up to London, and thence
down to Sir Joseph's house in Kent. The brothers, once face to face,
met as though no ill-blood had ever separated them: hands were
locked in hands, gaze went out to gaze. Both were simple-minded,
earnest-hearted, affectionate-natured men; and but for their wives--to
whom, if the truth must be avowed, each lay in subjection--not a
mis-word would ever have arisen between them.
"I am dying, Joseph," said the captain, when some of their mutual
emotion had worn away. "The doctors tell me so, and I feel it to be
true. Naturally, it has set me on the thought of many things--that I
am afraid I have been too carelessly putting off. What I have come
down to you chiefly for, is to ask about my son--Adam. You'll tell me
the truth, won't you, Joseph, as between brothers?"
"I'll tell you anything, Harry," was Sir Joseph's answer. "The truth
about what?"
"Whether he is to succeed you or not?"
"Why, of course he must succeed: failing yourself. What are you
thinking of, Harry, to ask it? I've no son of my own: it's not likely
I shall have one now. He will be Sir Adam after me."
"It's not the title I was thinking of, Joseph. Failing a direct heir,
I know that must come to him. But the property?--will he have that? It
is not entailed; and you could cut him out absolutely."
"D'ye | 306.772974 | 1,483 |
2023-11-16 18:20:53.8674870 | 1,025 | 591 |
Produced by Charles Aldarondo. HTML version by Al Haines.
AMERICAN PIONEERS AND PATRIOTS.
DAVID CROCKETT:
HIS
LIFE AND ADVENTURES
BY
JOHN S. C. ABBOTT
ILLUSTRATED.
PREFACE.
David Crockett certainly was not a model man. But he was a
representative man. He was conspicuously one of a very numerous class,
still existing, and which has heretofore exerted a very powerful
influence over this republic. As such, his wild and wondrous life is
worthy of the study of every patriot. Of this class, their modes of
life and habits of thought, the majority of our citizens know as little
as they do of the manners and customs of the Comanche Indians.
No man can make his name known to the forty millions of this great and
busy republic who has not something very remarkable in his character or
his career. But there is probably not an adult American, in all these
widespread States, who has not heard of David Crockett. His life is a
veritable romance, with the additional charm of unquestionable truth.
It opens to the reader scenes in the lives of the lowly, and a state of
semi-civilization, of which but few of them can have the faintest idea.
It has not been my object, in this narrative, to defend Colonel
Crockett or to condemn him, but to present his peculiar character
exactly as it was. I have therefore been constrained to insert some
things which I would gladly have omitted.
JOHN S. C. ABBOTT.
FAIR HAVEN, CONN.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
Parentage and Childhood.
The Emigrant.--Crossing the Alleghanies.--The Boundless
Wilderness.--The Hut on the Holston.--Life's Necessaries.--The
Massacre.--Birth of David Crockett.--Peril of the
Boys.--Anecdote.--Removal to Greenville; to Cove Creek.--Increased
Emigration.--Loss of the Mill.--The Tavern.--Engagement with the
Drover.--Adventures in the Wilderness.--Virtual Captivity.--The
Escape.--The Return.--The Runaway.--New Adventures.... 7
CHAPTER II.
Youthful Adventures.
David at Gerardstown.--Trip to Baltimore.--Anecdotes.--He ships for
London.--Disappointment.--Defrauded of his Wages.--Escapes.--New
Adventures.--Crossing the River.--Returns Home.--His Reception.--A Farm
Laborer.--Generosity to his Father.--Love Adventure.--The Wreck of his
Hopes.--His School Education.--Second Love adventure.--Bitter
Disappointment.--Life in the Backwoods.--Third Love Adventure.... 35
CHAPTER III.
Marriage and Settlement.
Rustic Courtship.--The Rival Lover.--Romantic Incident. The Purchase of
a Horse.--The Wedding.--Singular Ceremonies.--The Termagant.--Bridal
Days.--They commence Housekeeping.--The Bridal mansion and
Outfit.--Family Possessions.--The Removal to Central Tennessee.--Mode
of Transportation.--The New Income and its Surroundings.--Busy
Idleness.--The Third Move.--The Massacre at Fort Mimms.... 54
CHAPTER IV.
The Soldier Life.
War with the Creeks.--Patriotism of Crockett.--Remonstrances of his
Wife.--Enlistment.--The Rendezvous.--Adventure of the Scouts.--Friendly
Indians,--A March through the Forest.--Picturesque Scene.--The Midnight
Alarm.--March by Moonlight.--Chagrin of Crockett.--Advance into
Alabama.--War's Desolations.--Indian Stoicism.--Anecdotes of Andrew
Jackson.--Battles, Carnage, and Woe.... 93
CHAPTER V.
Indian Warfare.
The Army at Fort Strother.--Crockett's Regiment.--Crockett at
Home.--His Reenlistment.--Jackson Surprised.--Military Ability of the
Indians.--Humiliation of the Creeks.--March to Florida.--Affairs at
Pensacola.--Capture of the City.--Characteristics of Crockett.--The
Weary March,--Inglorious Expedition.--Murder of Two
Indians.--Adventures at the Island.--The Continued March.--Severe
Sufferings.--Charge upon the Uninhabited Village.... 124
CHAPTER VI.
The Camp and the Cabin.
Deplorable Condition of the Army.--Its wanderings.--Crockett's
Benevolence.--Cruel Treatment of the Indians.--A Gleam of Good
Luck.--The Joyful Feast.--Crockett's Trade with the Indian.--Visit to
the Old Battlefield.-- | 307.186897 | 1,484 |
2023-11-16 18:20:54.1721120 | 1,136 | 429 |
Produced by Stephen Hope, David Edwards, Sankar Viswanathan,
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net (This file was made from images produced
by the North Carolina History and Fiction Digital Library)
NICK BABA'S LAST DRINK
AND
OTHER SKETCHES.
BY
GEO. P. GOFF.
* * * * *
Pro captu lectoris habent sua fata libelli.
* * * * *
ILLUSTRATED.
* * * * *
LANCASTER, PENNA.:
INQUIRER PRINTING AND PUBLISHING COMPANY
1879.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1879, by
GEO. P. GOFF,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C.
TO THE
"RAYMOND HALL" SHOOTING CLUB,
THIS
VOLUME IS INSCRIBED.
PREFACE.
THE KIND PARTIALITY OF INDULGENT FRIENDS HAVING INDUCED ME TO GATHER
TOGETHER THESE SCATTERED FRAGMENTS, INDITED AS A RECREATION FOR MY
LEISURE MOMENTS, I GIVE THEM THUS COLLECTED, WITH THE HOPE THAT THE
SAME FAVOR WILL BE EXTENDED TO THEIR IMPERFECTIONS AS HAS SO OFTEN
BEEN SHOWN TO THEIR AUTHOR.
CONTENTS.
NICK BABA'S LAST DRINK.
TRIP TO CURRITUCK--ILLUSTRATED.
HAUNTED ISLAND.
LEGEND OF BERKELEY SPRINGS--ILLUSTRATED.
NICK BABA'S LAST DRINK,
AND OTHER SKETCHES.
NICK BABA'S LAST DRINK.
It was Christmas Eve, and the one narrow main street of a small
country town was ablaze. Extra lights were glowing in all the little
shops; yet all this illumination served only to make more apparent the
untidy condition of the six-by-nine window panes, as well as the goods
therein. Men and women were hastening homeward with well-filled
baskets which they had provided for the festive morrow. All the
ragged, dirty urchins of the village were gathered about the dingy
shop windows admiring, with distended eyes and gaping mouths, the
several displays of toys and sweetmeats.
Their arms buried quite to their elbows in capacious but empty
pockets, they cast longing looks and wondered, as they had no
stockings, where Santa Claus could put their presents when he had
brought them. To all this show and preparation there was one
exception: one place shrouded in total darkness--it was the shop of
Nick Baba, the village shoemaker. That was for the time deserted; left
to its dust, its collection of worn-out soles, its curtains of
cobwebs, and its compound of bad, unwholesome odors. This darkness and
neglect was about to end, however, and give place to a glimmer of
light.
Nick now came hurrying in and, quickly striking a light, placed
between himself and a flickering oil lamp a small glass globe filled
with water. He sat down upon his bench and commenced work in earnest
on an unfinished pair of shoes. He hammered, and pulled, and
stretched, and pegged, and sewed, and all this time, had there been
any one present, they might have observed that, though Nick worked so
diligently, he was unhappy, and a prey to the bitterest reflections.
All in the village had commenced their merry-making, while he sat
there alone, forgotten, and in despair. His neighbors had plenty--he
was penniless, and could take nothing to his home but regrets for the
past. The rickety old door now creaked on its rusty, worn-out hinges,
and admitted a creature as strange looking as it was unexpected. It
moved straight toward Nick, and perched itself upon a three-legged
stool close beside him. This mysterious thing could not be pronounced
supernatural, and yet it was as unlike anything human as is possible
to imagine. It was more like some fantastic figure seen in a
dream--the creation of a disordered brain. It may be that it was a
goblin--Nick thought it one. It was only about two feet high; a mass
of dark-brown hair streamed down its back, partially concealing a
great hump, and thence flowed down to its heels. Its head was round as
a ball and topped out by a velvet cap of curious shape and
workmanship, with a broad projecting front which shaded a pair of
lustrous red eyes, set far back beneath the forehead--almost lost
there. Its breast was sunken, and the head settled down between the
shoulders, created an impression of weakness, as if, for example, it
should speak, that a small piping voice would come struggling up from
below. Baba looked up with alarm, but the goblin greeted him with a
smile, and said, "Merry Christmas, Nick," in a deep, strong and not
unmusical voice, which came boldly up and out from its | 307.491522 | 1,485 |
2023-11-16 18:20:54.3053640 | 4,083 | 37 |
E-text prepared by Project Gutenberg volunteers
and revised by Joseph E. Loewenstein, M.D.
THE FOUR MILLION
by
O. HENRY
Not very long ago some one invented the assertion that there were
only "Four Hundred" people in New York City who were really worth
noticing. But a wiser man has arisen--the census taker--and his
larger estimate of human interest has been preferred in marking out
the field of these little stories of the "Four Million."
Contents:
TOBIN'S PALM
THE GIFT OF THE MAGI
A COSMOPOLITE IN A CAFE
BETWEEN ROUNDS
THE SKYLIGHT ROOM
A SERVICE OF LOVE
THE COMING-OUT OF MAGGIE
MAN ABOUT TOWN
THE COP AND THE ANTHEM
AN ADJUSTMENT OF NATURE
MEMOIRS OF A YELLOW DOG
THE LOVE-PHILTRE OF IKEY SCHOENSTEIN
MAMMON AND THE ARCHER
SPRINGTIME A LA CARTE
THE GREEN DOOR
FROM THE CABBY'S SEAT
AN UNFINISHED STORY
THE CALIPH, CUPID AND THE CLOCK
SISTERS OF THE GOLDEN CIRCLE
THE ROMANCE OF A BUSY BROKER
AFTER TWENTY YEARS
LOST ON DRESS PARADE
BY COURIER
THE FURNISHED ROOM
THE BRIEF DEBUT OF TILDY
TOBIN'S PALM
Tobin and me, the two of us, went down to Coney one day, for there was
four dollars between us, and Tobin had need of distractions. For there
was Katie Mahorner, his sweetheart, of County Sligo, lost since she
started for America three months before with two hundred dollars, her
own savings, and one hundred dollars from the sale of Tobin's inherited
estate, a fine cottage and pig on the Bog Shannaugh. And since the
letter that Tobin got saying that she had started to come to him not a
bit of news had he heard or seen of Katie Mahorner. Tobin advertised in
the papers, but nothing could be found of the colleen.
So, to Coney me and Tobin went, thinking that a turn at the chutes and
the smell of the popcorn might raise the heart in his bosom. But Tobin
was a hardheaded man, and the sadness stuck in his skin. He ground his
teeth at the crying balloons; he cursed the moving pictures; and, though
he would drink whenever asked, he scorned Punch and Judy, and was for
licking the tintype men as they came.
So I gets him down a side way on a board walk where the attractions were
some less violent. At a little six by eight stall Tobin halts, with a
more human look in his eye.
"'Tis here," says he, "I will be diverted. I'll have the palm of me hand
investigated by the wonderful palmist of the Nile, and see if what is to
be will be."
Tobin was a believer in signs and the unnatural in nature. He possessed
illegal convictions in his mind along the subjects of black cats, lucky
numbers, and the weather predictions in the papers.
We went into the enchanted chicken coop, which was fixed mysterious with
red cloth and pictures of hands with lines crossing 'em like a railroad
centre. The sign over the door says it is Madame Zozo the Egyptian
Palmist. There was a fat woman inside in a red jumper with pothooks and
beasties embroidered upon it. Tobin gives her ten cents and extends one
of his hands. She lifts Tobin's hand, which is own brother to the hoof
of a drayhorse, and examines it to see whether 'tis a stone in the frog
or a cast shoe he has come for.
"Man," says this Madame Zozo, "the line of your fate shows--"
"Tis not me foot at all," says Tobin, interrupting. "Sure, 'tis no
beauty, but ye hold the palm of me hand."
"The line shows," says the Madame, "that ye've not arrived at your
time of life without bad luck. And there's more to come. The mount
of Venus--or is that a stone bruise?--shows that ye've been in love.
There's been trouble in your life on account of your sweetheart."
"'Tis Katie Mahorner she has references with," whispers Tobin to me in a
loud voice to one side.
"I see," says the palmist, "a great deal of sorrow and tribulation with
one whom ye cannot forget. I see the lines of designation point to the
letter K and the letter M in her name."
"Whist!" says Tobin to me, "do ye hear that?"
"Look out," goes on the palmist, "for a dark man and a light woman; for
they'll both bring ye trouble. Ye'll make a voyage upon the water very
soon, and have a financial loss. I see one line that brings good luck.
There's a man coming into your life who will fetch ye good fortune.
Ye'll know him when ye see him by his crooked nose."
"Is his name set down?" asks Tobin. "'Twill be convenient in the way of
greeting when he backs up to dump off the good luck."
"His name," says the palmist, thoughtful looking, "is not spelled out by
the lines, but they indicate 'tis a long one, and the letter 'o' should
be in it. There's no more to tell. Good-evening. Don't block up the
door."
"'Tis wonderful how she knows," says Tobin as we walk to the pier.
As we squeezed through the gates a <DW65> man sticks his lighted segar
against Tobin's ear, and there is trouble. Tobin hammers his neck, and
the women squeal, and by presence of mind I drag the little man out of
the way before the police comes. Tobin is always in an ugly mood when
enjoying himself.
On the boat going back, when the man calls "Who wants the good-looking
waiter?" Tobin tried to plead guilty, feeling the desire to blow the
foam off a crock of suds, but when he felt in his pocket he found
himself discharged for lack of evidence. Somebody had disturbed his
change during the commotion. So we sat, dry, upon the stools, listening
to the <DW55>s fiddling on deck. If anything, Tobin was lower in spirits
and less congenial with his misfortunes than when we started.
On a seat against the railing was a young woman dressed suitable for red
automobiles, with hair the colour of an unsmoked meerschaum. In passing
by, Tobin kicks her foot without intentions, and, being polite to ladies
when in drink, he tries to give his hat a twist while apologising. But
he knocks it off, and the wind carries it overboard.
Tobin came back and sat down, and I began to look out for him, for the
man's adversities were becoming frequent. He was apt, when pushed so
close by hard luck, to kick the best dressed man he could see, and try
to take command of the boat.
Presently Tobin grabs my arm and says, excited: "Jawn," says he, "do ye
know what we're doing? We're taking a voyage upon the water."
"There now," says I; "subdue yeself. The boat'll land in ten minutes
more."
"Look," says he, "at the light lady upon the bench. And have ye
forgotten the <DW65> man that burned me ear? And isn't the money I had
gone--a dollar sixty-five it was?"
I thought he was no more than summing up his catastrophes so as to get
violent with good excuse, as men will do, and I tried to make him
understand such things was trifles.
"Listen," says Tobin. "Ye've no ear for the gift of prophecy or the
miracles of the inspired. What did the palmist lady tell ye out of me
hand? 'Tis coming true before your eyes. 'Look out,' says she, 'for a
dark man and a light woman; they'll bring ye trouble.' Have ye forgot
the <DW65> man, though he got some of it back from me fist? Can ye show
me a lighter woman than the blonde lady that was the cause of me hat
falling in the water? And where's the dollar sixty-five I had in me vest
when we left the shooting gallery?"
The way Tobin put it, it did seem to corroborate the art of prediction,
though it looked to me that these accidents could happen to any one at
Coney without the implication of palmistry.
Tobin got up and walked around on deck, looking close at the passengers
out of his little red eyes. I asked him the interpretation of his
movements. Ye never know what Tobin has in his mind until he begins to
carry it out.
"Ye should know," says he, "I'm working out the salvation promised by
the lines in me palm. I'm looking for the crooked-nose man that's to
bring the good luck. 'Tis all that will save us. Jawn, did ye ever see
a straighter-nosed gang of hellions in the days of your life?"
'Twas the nine-thirty boat, and we landed and walked up-town through
Twenty-second Street, Tobin being without his hat.
On a street corner, standing under a gas-light and looking over the
elevated road at the moon, was a man. A long man he was, dressed decent,
with a segar between his teeth, and I saw that his nose made two twists
from bridge to end, like the wriggle of a snake. Tobin saw it at the
same time, and I heard him breathe hard like a horse when you take the
saddle off. He went straight up to the man, and I went with him.
"Good-night to ye," Tobin says to the man. The man takes out his segar
and passes the compliments, sociable.
"Would ye hand us your name," asks Tobin, "and let us look at the size
of it? It may be our duty to become acquainted with ye."
"My name" says the man, polite, "is Friedenhausman--Maximus G.
Friedenhausman."
"'Tis the right length," says Tobin. "Do you spell it with an 'o'
anywhere down the stretch of it?"
"I do not," says the man.
"_Can_ ye spell it with an 'o'?" inquires Tobin, turning anxious.
"If your conscience," says the man with the nose, "is indisposed toward
foreign idioms ye might, to please yourself, smuggle the letter into the
penultimate syllable."
"'Tis well," says Tobin. "Ye're in the presence of Jawn Malone and
Daniel Tobin."
"Tis highly appreciated," says the man, with a bow. "And now since I
cannot conceive that ye would hold a spelling bee upon the street
corner, will ye name some reasonable excuse for being at large?"
"By the two signs," answers Tobin, trying to explain, "which ye display
according to the reading of the Egyptian palmist from the sole of me
hand, ye've been nominated to offset with good luck the lines of trouble
leading to the <DW65> man and the blonde lady with her feet crossed in
the boat, besides the financial loss of a dollar sixty-five, all so far
fulfilled according to Hoyle."
The man stopped smoking and looked at me.
"Have ye any amendments," he asks, "to offer to that statement, or are
ye one too? I thought by the looks of ye ye might have him in charge."
"None," says I to him, "except that as one horseshoe resembles another
so are ye the picture of good luck as predicted by the hand of me
friend. If not, then the lines of Danny's hand may have been crossed,
I don't know."
"There's two of ye," says the man with the nose, looking up and down
for the sight of a policeman. "I've enjoyed your company immense.
Good-night."
With that he shoves his segar in his mouth and moves across the street,
stepping fast. But Tobin sticks close to one side of him and me at the
other.
"What!" says he, stopping on the opposite sidewalk and pushing back his
hat; "do ye follow me? I tell ye," he says, very loud, "I'm proud to
have met ye. But it is my desire to be rid of ye. I am off to me home."
"Do," says Tobin, leaning against his sleeve. "Do be off to your home.
And I will sit at the door of it till ye come out in the morning. For
the dependence is upon ye to obviate the curse of the <DW65> man and the
blonde lady and the financial loss of the one-sixty-five."
"'Tis a strange hallucination," says the man, turning to me as a more
reasonable lunatic. "Hadn't ye better get him home?"
"Listen, man," says I to him. "Daniel Tobin is as sensible as he ever
was. Maybe he is a bit deranged on account of having drink enough to
disturb but not enough to settle his wits, but he is no more than
following out the legitimate path of his superstitions and predicaments,
which I will explain to you." With that I relates the facts about
the palmist lady and how the finger of suspicion points to him as an
instrument of good fortune. "Now, understand," I concludes, "my position
in this riot. I am the friend of me friend Tobin, according to me
interpretations. 'Tis easy to be a friend to the prosperous, for it
pays; 'tis not hard to be a friend to the poor, for ye get puffed up by
gratitude and have your picture printed standing in front of a tenement
with a scuttle of coal and an orphan in each hand. But it strains the
art of friendship to be true friend to a born fool. And that's what I'm
doing," says I, "for, in my opinion, there's no fortune to be read from
the palm of me hand that wasn't printed there with the handle of a pick.
And, though ye've got the crookedest nose in New York City, I misdoubt
that all the fortune-tellers doing business could milk good luck from
ye. But the lines of Danny's hand pointed to ye fair, and I'll assist
him to experiment with ye until he's convinced ye're dry."
After that the man turns, sudden, to laughing. He leans against a corner
and laughs considerable. Then he claps me and Tobin on the backs of us
and takes us by an arm apiece.
"'Tis my mistake," says he. "How could I be expecting anything so fine
and wonderful to be turning the corner upon me? I came near being found
unworthy. Hard by," says he, "is a cafe, snug and suitable for the
entertainment of idiosyncrasies. Let us go there and have drink while we
discuss the unavailability of the categorical."
So saying, he marched me and Tobin to the back room of a saloon, and
ordered the drinks, and laid the money on the table. He looks at me and
Tobin like brothers of his, and we have the segars.
"Ye must know," says the man of destiny, "that me walk in life is
one that is called the literary. I wander abroad be night seeking
idiosyncrasies in the masses and truth in the heavens above. When ye
came upon me I was in contemplation of the elevated road in conjunction
with the chief luminary of night. The rapid transit is poetry and art:
the moon but a tedious, dry body, moving by rote. But these are private
opinions, for, in the business of literature, the conditions are
reversed. 'Tis me hope to be writing a book to explain the strange
things I have discovered in life."
"Ye will put me in a book," says Tobin, disgusted; "will ye put me in a
book?"
"I will not," says the man, "for the covers will not hold ye. Not yet.
The best I can do is to enjoy ye meself, for the time is not ripe for
destroying the limitations of print. Ye would look fantastic in type.
All alone by meself must I drink this cup of joy. But, I thank ye, boys;
I am truly grateful."
"The talk of ye," says Tobin, blowing through his moustache and pounding
the table with his fist, "is an eyesore to me patience. There was good
luck promised out of the crook of your nose, but ye bear fruit like the
bang of a drum. Ye resemble, with your noise of books, the wind blowing
through a crack. Sure, now, I would be thinking the palm of me hand lied
but for the coming true of the <DW65> man and the blonde lady and--"
"Whist!" says the long man; "would ye be led astray by physiognomy? Me
nose will do what it can within bounds. Let us have these glasses filled
again, for 'tis good to keep idiosyncrasies well moistened, they being
subject to deterioration in a dry moral atmosphere."
So, the man of literature makes good, to my notion, for he pays,
cheerful, for everything, the capital of me and Tobin being exhausted by
prediction. But Tobin is sore, and drinks quiet, with the red showing in
his eye.
By and by we moved out, for 'twas eleven o'clock, and stands a bit upon
the sidewalk. And then the man says he must be going home, and invites
me and Tobin to walk that way. We arrives on a side street two blocks
away where there is a stretch of brick houses with high stoops and iron
fences. The man stops at one of them and looks up at the top windows
which he finds dark.
"'Tis me humble dwelling," says he, "and I begin to perceive by the
signs that me wife has retired to slumber. Therefore I will venture a
bit in the way of hospitality. 'Tis me wish that ye enter the basement
room, where we dine, and partake of a reasonable refreshment. There will
be some fine cold fowl and cheese and a bottle or two of ale. Ye will be
welcome to enter and eat, for I am indebted to ye for diversions."
The appetite and | 307.624774 | 1,486 |
2023-11-16 18:20:54.5818130 | 1,024 | 402 |
Produced by hekula03, David E. Brown, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
book was produced from images made available by the
HathiTrust Digital Library.)
PLEASING
POETRY AND PICTURES:
FOR THE
MIND AND THE EYE.
[Illustration]
Here’s a pretty new Book, full of verses to sing,
And Mary can read it--oh, what a fine thing;
Then such pretty verses, and pictures too, look!
Oh, I’m glad I can read such a beautiful book.
NEW HAVEN.
PUBLISHED BY S. BABCOCK.
1849.
[Illustration: THE BEE-HIVE.]
PLEASING
POETRY AND PICTURES.
[Illustration]
The Little Busy Bee.
_An Example of Industry, for Young Children._
How doth the little busy Bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flower?
How skilfully she builds her cell,--
How neat she spreads her wax,
And labors hard to store it well
With the sweet food she makes.
In works of labor, or of skill,
I must be busy too,
For Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do.
In books, or work, or healthful play,
Let my first years be past,
That I may give for every day
Some good account at last.
[Illustration]
The Dead Bird.
_What we call Sport is too often Cruelty._
Ah! there it falls, and now ’tis dead!
The shot went thro’ its pretty head,
And broke its shining wing?
How dull and dim its closing eyes;
How cold, and stiff, and still it lies!
Poor harmless little thing!
It was a lark, and in the sky,
In mornings fine, it mounted high,
To sing a pretty song;
Cutting the fresh and healthy air,
It whistled out its music there,
As light it skimmed along.
How little thought its pretty breast,
This morning, when it left its nest
Hid in the springing corn,
To find some breakfast for its young,
And pipe away its morning song,
It never should return.
[Illustration: THE DEAD BIRD.]
Those pretty wings shall never more
Its tender nestlings cover o’er,
Or bring them dainties rare:
But long with gaping beaks they’ll cry,
And then they will with hunger die,
All in the open air!
Poor little bird! If people knew
The sorrows little birds go through,
I think that even boys
Would never call it sport and fun
To stand and fire a frightful gun,
For nothing but the noise.
[Illustration]
My Kind Mother.
_A Dutiful Child is the Joy of its Parents._
I must not tease my mother,
For she is very kind;
And every thing she says to me,
I must directly mind;
For when I was a baby,
And could not speak or walk,
She let me in her bosom sleep,
And taught me how to talk.
I must not tease my mother;
And when she likes to read,
Or has the headache, I will step
Most silently, indeed.
I will not choose a noisy play,
Or trifling troubles tell;
But sit down quiet by her side,
And try to make her well.
I must not tease my mother;
I have heard my father say,
When I was in my cradle sick,
She tended me all day.
She lays me in my little bed,
She gives me clothes and food,
And I have nothing else to pay,
But trying to be good.
I must not tease my mother;
She loves me all the day,
And she has patience with my faults,
And teaches me to pray;
How much I’ll strive to please her
She every hour shall see,
For, should she go away, or die,
What would become of me!
[Illustration]
Good Night.
_Little Children should go to Bed Early._
The sun is hidden from our sight,
The birds are sleeping sound;
’Tis time to say to all, “Good night,”
And give a kiss all round.
Good night! my father, mother dear,
Now kiss your little son;
Good night! my friends, both far and near;
Good night! to every one.
Good night! ye merry, merry | 307.901223 | 1,487 |
2023-11-16 18:20:54.7913510 | 1,209 | 522 |
Produced by Marc D'Hooghe at http://www.freeliterature.org
(From images generously made available by the Internet
Archive.)
FAIR HAVEN
AND
FOUL STRAND
BY
AUGUST STRINDBERG
NEW YORK
MCBRIDE, NAST & COMPANY
MCMXIV
CONTENTS
FAIR HAVEN AND FOUL STRAND
THE DOCTOR'S FIRST STORY
THE DOCTOR'S SECOND STORY
HERR BENGT'S WIFE
FAIR HAVEN AND FOUL STRAND
The quarantine doctor was a man of five-and-sixty, well-preserved,
short, slim and elastic, with a military bearing which recalled the
fact that he had served in the Army Medical Corps. From birth he
belonged to the eccentrics who feel uncomfortable in life and are never
at home in it. Born in a mining district, of well-to-do but stern
parents, he had no pleasant recollections of his childhood. His father
and mother never spoke kindly, even when there was occasion to do so,
but always harshly, with or without cause. His mother was one of those
strange characters who get angry about nothing. Her anger arose without
visible cause, so that her son sometimes thought she was not right in
her head, and sometimes that she was deaf and could not hear properly,
for occasionally her response to an act of kindness was a box on the
ears. Therefore the boy became mistrustful towards people in general,
for the only natural bond which should have united him to humanity
with tenderness, was broken, and everything in life assumed a hostile
appearance. Accordingly, though he did not show it, he was always in a
posture of defence.
At school he had friends, but since he did not know how sincerely
he wished them well, he became submissive, and made all kinds of
concessions in order to preserve his faith in real friendship. By so
doing he let his friends encroach so much that they oppressed him and
began to tyrannise over him. When matters came to this point, he went
his own way without giving any explanations. But he soon found a new
friend with whom the same story was repeated from beginning to end. The
result was that later in life he only sought for acquaintances, and
grew accustomed to rely only upon himself. When he was confirmed, and
felt mature and responsible through being declared ecclesiastically of
age, an event happened which proved a turning-point in his life. He
came home too late for a meal and his mother received him with a shower
of blows from a stick. Without thinking, the young man raised his hand,
and gave her a box on the ear. For a moment mother and son confronted
each other, he expecting the roof to fall in or that he would be struck
dead in some miraculous way. But nothing happened. His mother went
out as though nothing had occurred, and behaved afterwards as though
nothing unusual had taken place between them.
Later on in life when this affair recurred to his memory, he wondered
what must have passed through her mind. She had cast one look to the
ceiling as though she sought there for something--an invisible hand
perhaps, or had she resigned herself to it, because she had at last
seen that it was a well-deserved retribution, and therefore not called
him to account? It was strange, that in spite of desperate efforts to
produce pangs of conscience, he never felt any self-reproach on the
subject. It seemed to have happened without his will, and as though it
must happen.
Nevertheless, it marked a boundary-line in his life. The cord was cut
and he fell out in life alone, away from his mother and domesticity. He
felt as though he had been born without father and mother. Both seemed
to him strangers whom he would have found it most natural to call Mr
and Mrs So-and-so. At the University he at once noticed the difference
between his lot and that of his companions. They had parents, brothers,
and sisters; there was an order and succession in their life. They had
relations to their fellow-men and obeyed secret social laws. They felt
instinctively that he did not belong to their fold.
When as a young doctor he acted on behalf of an army medical officer
for some time, he felt at once that he was not in his proper place, and
so did the officers. The silent resistance which he offered from the
first to their imperiousness and arbitrary ways marked him out as a
dissatisfied critic, and he was left to himself.
In the hospital it was the same. Here he perceived at once the fateful
predestination of social election, those who were called and those who
were not called. It seemed as though the authorities could discern
by scent those who were congenial to them. And so it was everywhere.
He started a practice as a ladies' doctor, but had no luck, for he
demanded straightforward answers to his questions, and those he never
received. Then he became impatient, and was considered brutal. He
became a Government sanitary officer in a remote part of the country,
and since he was now independent of his patients' favour, he troubled
himself still less about pleasing them. Presently he was transferred to
the quarantine service, and was finally stationed at Skamsund.
When he had come here, now seventeen years ago, he at once began to
be at variance with the pilots, who, as the only authorities on the
island, indulged themselves in many acts of arbitrariness towards the
inhabitants. The quarantine doctor loved peace and quietness like other | 308.110761 | 1,488 |
2023-11-16 18:20:54.7926920 | 1,057 | 394 |
Produced by Irma Spehar and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was
produced from scanned images of public domain material
from the Google Print project.)
THE
MINSTREL,
WITH
SOME OTHER POEMS.
[Illustration]
THE MINSTREL;
OR,
THE PROGRESS OF GENIUS.
WITH
SOME OTHER POEMS.
By JAMES BEATTIE, LL. D.
EDINBURGH:
PRINTED BY JAMES BALLANTYNE,
FOR WILLIAM CREECH, MANNERS AND MILLER,
AND A. CONSTABLE AND CO.
1805.
TO
SIR WILLIAM FORBES,
OF PITSLIGO, BARONET,
AS A MARK OF RESPECT FOR HIS CHARACTER,
AND AS AN APPROPRIATE TRIBUTE TO ONE OF THE MOST
VALUED FRIENDS OF THE AUTHOR,
THIS EDITION
OF THE
POETICAL WORKS OF DR BEATTIE,
_IS INSCRIBED_
BY
THE PUBLISHERS.
CONTENTS.
Page.
The Minstrel, Book I. 1
Book II. 35
Retirement 71
Elegy 76
Ode to Hope 81
Pygmaeo-gerano-machia: The Battle of the Pigmies and Cranes 89
Epistle to the Hon. C. B. 101
The Hares: A Fable 105
Epitaph: being Part of an Inscription for a Monument,
to be erected by a Gentleman to the Memory
of his Lady 118
Ode on Lord H***'s Birth-Day 119
To the Right Hon. Lady Charlotte Gordon, dressed in
a Tartan Scotch Bonnet, with Plumes, &c. 125
The Hermit 127
Ode to Peace 130
Triumph of Melancholy 139
PREFACE TO THE MINSTREL.
The design was, to trace the progress of a Poetical Genius, born in a
rude age, from the first dawning of fancy and reason, till that period
at which he may be supposed capable of appearing in the world as a
MINSTREL, that is, as an itinerant Poet and Musician;--a character,
which, according to the notions of our fore-fathers, was not only
respectable, but sacred.
I have endeavoured to imitate SPENSER in the measure of his verse, and
in the harmony, simplicity, and variety, of his composition. Antique
expressions I have avoided; admitting, however, some old words, where
they seemed to suit the subject; but I hope none will be found that
are now obsolete, or in any degree unintelligible to a reader of
English poetry.
To those, who may be disposed to ask, what could induce me to write in
so difficult a measure, I can only answer, that it pleases my ear, and
seems, from its Gothic structure and original, to bear some relation
to the subject and spirit of the Poem. It admits both of simplicity
and magnificence of sound and of language, beyond any other stanza
that I am acquainted with. It allows the sententiousness of the
couplet, as well as the more complex modulation of blank verse. What
some critics have remarked, of its uniformity growing at last tiresome
to the ear, will be found to hold true, only when the poetry is faulty
in other respects.
THE
MINSTREL;
IN TWO BOOKS.
_Me vero primum dulces ante omnia Musae,
Quarum sacra fero, ingenti perculsus amore,
Accipiant.----_
VIRGIL.
THE
MINSTREL;
OR,
THE PROGRESS OF GENIUS.
BOOK FIRST.
I.
Ah! who can tell how hard it is to climb
The steep, where Fame's proud temple shines afar!
Ah! who can tell how many a soul sublime
Has felt the influence of malignant star,
And waged with Fortune an eternal war!
Checked by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown,
And Poverty's unconquerable bar,
In life's low vale remote has pined alone,
Then dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown!
II.
And yet, the languor of inglorious days
Not equally oppressive is to all.
Him, who ne'er listened to the voice of praise,
The silence of neglect can ne'er appal.
There are, who, deaf to mad Ambition's call,
Would shrink to hear th' obstreperous trump of Fame;
Supremely ble | 308.112102 | 1,489 |
2023-11-16 18:20:54.8040140 | 1,314 | 202 |
Produced by Colin Bell, Sam W. and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN;
WHAT IS IT?
BY
EDWARD BURBIDGE, M.A.
RECTOR OF BACKWELL, SOMERSET.
PUBLISHED UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE TRACT COMMITTEE.
LONDON:
SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE;
NORTHUMBERLAND AVENUE, CHARING CROSS;
4, ROYAL EXCHANGE; AND 48, PICCADILLY.
PREFACE.
There is nothing new in the following pages; except it be that they
call popular attention to facts which have been commonly recognised
only by scholars.
But I am aware that their contents will appear novel to many; and to
remove this idea some extracts are here given from the Commentaries in
general use.
1. Bishop Wordsworth on S. Matt. xiii. 3; "This chapter may be
described as containing a Divine Treatise on the Church Militant here
on earth."
2. Dean Alford on S. Matt. xiii. 52; "The seven Parables compose in
their inner depth of connexion, a great united whole, beginning with
the first sowing of the Church, and ending with the consummation."
3. The Speaker's Commentary on S. Matt. iii. 2; "It--the Kingdom of
Heaven--signifies the promised Kingdom of the Messiah. Hence the
expectation of the Messiah is spoken of as a _waiting for the Kingdom
of God_. Our Lord, adopts the expression and frequently employs it to
denote His Spiritual Kingdom the Church."
4. Bishop Walsham How (S. P. C. K. Commentary) on S. Matt. iii. 2;
"It--the Kingdom of Heaven--is generally used to signify the Kingdom
of Christ on earth, the Kingdom of the Gospel, the Church of Christ."
I desire also to remove by anticipation a fear that some may feel,
lest, in regarding the Gospel as being the good news of the Kingdom of
Heaven, the great doctrine of the Atonement should be forgotten. Such
an idea is refuted by the words of Holy Scripture. For not only is the
Preaching of our Blessed Lord, before He suffered, thus described--see
S. Mark i. 14--but also the teaching of S. Paul, in later years, who
gloried in knowing only "Jesus Christ and Him crucified"--see Acts xx.
25.
My object has been to provide an answer to two questions.
1. What did our Blessed Lord teach about His Church in His discourses?
2. What is meant by the words of the Creed, "The Holy Catholic Church;
the Communion of Saints?"
May these pages help men to gain an intelligent knowledge of that
Kingdom, into which our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ has called us.
May they lead many to desire the fulfilment of His last prayer for us
before His Passion, "That they all may be one." And may every word in
this little book, which is not in accordance with God's will, be
pardoned, and overruled to His Glory.
BACKWELL, _August 1879_.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE KING'S HERALD 7
II. THE GOSPEL OF THE KINGDOM 18
III. THE PARABLES OF THE KINGDOM 32
IV. THE SUBJECTS OF THE KINGDOM 50
V. THINGS PERTAINING TO THE KINGDOM 66
VI. THE KING ON HIS THRONE 76
VII. THE PARABLES EXEMPLIFIED IN THE EARLY HISTORY
OF THE CHURCH 88
VIII. THE ESSENTIAL UNITY OF THE KINGDOM 99
IX. THE HOLY CATHOLIC CHURCH 121
X. THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS 145
XI. CONCLUSION 160
"_Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall
believe on ME through their word; that they all may be one; as THOU
FATHER art in ME, and I in THEE, that they also may be one in US; that
the world may believe that Thou hast sent ME._"--S. John xvii. 20, 21.
"_When THOU hadst overcome the sharpness of death: THOU didst open the
KINGDOM OF HEAVEN to all believers._"--Te Deum.
"_THY KINGDOM come._"--S. Matt. vi. 10.
CHAPTER I.
THE KING'S HERALD.
"On Jordan's banks the Baptist's cry
Announces that the Lord is nigh;
Awake and hearken, for he brings
Glad tidings of the King...."
When the Saviour of the world was about to enter upon His public
ministry, the Jewish nation was startled with the cry, "The Kingdom of
Heaven is at hand" (S. Matt. iii. 2).
Such was God's call to His people of old time, to prepare themselves
to take part in the fulfilment of the promises, on which their faith
and hopes were founded. The fulness of the times had come; and Christ,
the long-promised and long-expected Saviour and King, was nigh at
hand.
And ever since that day, as the good news of the Kingdom has spread
from land to land, it has been the portion of the Lord's people to
endeavour to realise their high position in that Kingdom, and to
discharge their duties loyally to their Heavenly King.
But the words--"The Kingdom of Heaven"--are apt to lead away the
thoughts from the present to the future, from this world to a better
one. And since men are not in Heaven now, but are surrounded with
earthly cares and troubles, there is danger lest they should forget or
be ignorant of the intimate connection which | 308.123424 | 1,490 |
2023-11-16 18:20:54.8298700 | 4,075 | 53 |
Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images
generously made available by The Internet Archive.)
ON THE INCUBUS, OR NIGHT-MARE.
J. M'Creery, Printer,
Black Horse Court, London.
A TREATISE ON THE INCUBUS,
OR
Night-Mare,
DISTURBED SLEEP, TERRIFIC DREAMS,
AND NOCTURNAL VISIONS.
WITH THE MEANS OF REMOVING THESE
DISTRESSING COMPLAINTS.
BY JOHN WALLER,
SURGEON OF THE ROYAL NAVY.
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR E. COX AND SON, ST. THOMAS'S STREET,
BOROUGH.
1816.
INTRODUCTION.
The enjoyment of comfortable and undisturbed sleep, is certainly to be
ranked amongst the greatest blessings which heaven has bestowed on
mankind; and it may be considered as one of the best criterions of a
person enjoying perfect health. On the contrary, any disturbance which
occurs in the enjoyment of this invaluable blessing, may be considered a
decisive proof of some derangement existing in the animal economy, and a
consequent deviation from the standard of health. Indeed it is astonishing
how slight a deviation from that standard may be perceived, by paying
attention to the circumstance of our sleep and dreams. This may be more
clearly demonstrated by attending carefully to the state of persons on the
approach of any epidemic fever or other epidemic disease, and indeed of
every kind of fever, as I have repeatedly witnessed; when no other signs
of a deviation from health could be perceived, the patient has complained
of disturbed rest and frightful dreams, with Night-Mare, &c. Hence the
dread which the vulgar, in all ages and countries, have had of what they
call _bad_ dreams; experience having proved to them, that persons,
previously to being attacked with some serious or fatal malady, had been
visited with these kind of dreams. For this reason they always dread some
impending calamity either to themselves or others, whenever they occur;
and, so far as relates to themselves, often not without reason. Frightful
dreams, however, though frequently the forerunners of dangerous and fatal
diseases, will yet often occur when the disturbance of the system is
comparatively trifling, as they will generally be found to accompany every
derangement of the digestive organs, particularly of the stomach, of the
superior portion of the intestinal canal, and of the biliary system.
Children, whose digestive organs are peculiarly liable to derangement, are
also very frequently the subjects of frightful dreams, and partial
Night-Mares; which are frequently distressing enough to them. They are
still more so to grown up people, as they generally arise from a more
serious derangement of the system. Those who are subject to them will
agree with me in opinion, that they are by no means to be ranked amongst
the lesser calamities to which our nature is liable.
There are many persons in the world to whom it is no uncommon occurrence,
to rise from their bed in the morning more wearied and exhausted, both in
mind and body, than when they retired to it the evening before: to whom
sleep is frequently an object of terror rather than comfort, and who seek
in vain for relief from the means usually recommended by Physicians. To
such persons I dedicate this little work; for their information I have
laid down, in as clear terms as the subject will admit, the history of
those diseases, which, by depriving us of the benefit of sleep, and
driving rest from our couch, often render life itself miserable, and lay
the foundation of formidable, and sometimes of fatal diseases. Amongst
those affections which thus break in upon our repose, the most formidable
and the most frequent is the disease called Night-Mare; the history of
which, with its various modifications, I have endeavoured to give with as
much accuracy as possible, and have attempted also to investigate its
nature and immediate causes, as well as to point out the best mode of
obtaining relief. Very little assistance could be obtained in this
undertaking, from the writings of modern Physicians, who have paid little
or no attention to it: those of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries,
seem to have well understood both its causes and cure, but differed much
amongst themselves respecting its nature, as will ever be the case when
we attempt to reason on any subject which is above our comprehension. I
have availed myself of all the light which these illustrious men could
throw upon the subject, which is not a little; but my principal
information respecting it has arisen from a personal acquaintance with the
disease itself, for a long series of years, having been a victim to it
from my earliest infancy. I have never met with any person who has
suffered to so great an extent from this affection, or to whom it was
become so habitual. To eradicate thoroughly a disease so deeply rooted and
of so long duration, cannot be expected: but I have so far succeeded as to
bring it under great control, and to keep myself free from its attacks for
several months together; or indeed scarcely ever to be disturbed by it
at all, but when I have deviated from those rules which experience has
proved to be sufficient to secure me from all danger of it.
The various kinds of disturbed sleep taken notice of in this little work,
are all so many modifications of Night-Mare, and may be all remedied by
observing the rules here laid down, as they will be found to originate
from one or other of the causes here specified. The regimen and treatment
I have recommended are directed to the root of the disease, that is, to
the hypochondriac or hysteric temperament; for Night-Mare, disturbed
sleep, terrific dreams, &c. may be considered only as symptoms of great
nervous derangement, or hypochondriasis, and are a sure sign that this
disease exists to a great extent. Thus, while the patient is seeking, by
the means recommended, to get rid of his Night-Mare, he will find his
general health improving, and the digestive organs recovering their proper
tone.
THE INCUBUS, &c.
This disease, vulgarly called Night-Mare, was observed and described by
physicians and other writers at a very early period. It was called by the
Greeks, [Greek: ephialtes], and by the Romans, _Incubus_, both of which
names are expressive of the sensation of weight and oppression felt by the
persons labouring under it, and which conveys to them the idea of some
living _being_ having taken its position on the breast, inspiring terror,
and impeding respiration and all voluntary motion. It is not very
surprising that persons labouring under this extraordinary affection,
should ascribe it to the agency of some daemon, or evil spirit; and we
accordingly find that this idea of its immediate cause has generally
prevailed in all ages and countries. Its real nature has never been
satisfactorily explained, nor has it by any means met with that attention
from modern physicians which it merits: indeed it scarcely seems to be
considered by them as a disease, or to deserve at all the attention of a
physician. Those, however, who labour under this affection to any great
degree, can bear testimony to the distress and alarm which it occasions;
in many cases rendering the approach of night a cause of terror, and life
itself miserable, from the dread of untimely suffocation. The little
attention paid to this disease by medical men, has left the subjects of it
without a remedy, and almost without hope. Its nature and its cause have
been altogether misunderstood by those who have lately given any opinion
upon it. It appears a general opinion that it only happens to persons
lying upon the back, and who have eaten large suppers; the causes of it
have consequently been traced to mechanical pressure upon the lungs,
arising from a full stomach; and a change of position, together with the
avoiding eating any supper, has been thought all that was necessary to
prevent its attack. To those, however, who are unfortunately afflicted
with it to any degree, it is well known by experience, that no change of
position, or abstinence, will secure them from the attacks of this
formidable disturber of the night. As I have so long been an unfortunate
victim to this enemy of repose, and have suffered more from its repeated
attacks than any other person I have ever met with, I hope to be able to
throw some light on the nature of this affection, and to point out some
mode of relief to the unfortunate victims of it.
The late Dr. Darwin, who had an admirable talent for explaining the
phenomena of animal life in general, is of opinion, that this affection is
nothing more than sleeping too sound; in which situation of things the
power of volition, or command over the muscles of voluntary motion, is too
completely suspended; and that the efforts of the patient to recover this
power, constitute the disease we call Night-Mare. In order to reconcile
this hypothesis with the real state of things, he is obliged to have
recourse to a method not unusual amongst theoretic philosophers, both in
medicine and other sciences--that is, when the hypothesis does not exactly
apply to the phenomenon to be explained by it, to twist the phenomenon
itself into such a shape as will make it fit, rather than give up a
favourite hypothesis. Now, in order to mould the Night-Mare into the
proper form, to make this hypothesis apply to it, he asserts, first, that
it only attacks persons when very sound asleep; and secondly, that there
cannot exist any difficulty of breathing, since the mere suspension of
volition will not produce any, the respiration going on as well asleep as
awake; so that he thinks there must needs be some error in this part of
the account. Any person, however, that has experienced a paroxysm of
Night-Mare, will be disposed rather to give up Dr. Darwin's hypothesis
than to mistrust his own feelings as to the difficulty of breathing, which
is far the most terrific and painful of any of the symptoms. The dread of
suffocation, arising from the inability of inflating the lungs, is so
great, that the person, who for the first time in his life is attacked by
this "worst phantom of the night," generally imagines that he has very
narrowly escaped death, and that a few seconds more of the complaint would
have inevitably proved fatal. This disease, although neglected by modern
physicians, was well described and understood by those of the seventeenth
century, as well as by the Greeks and Romans.[1] There are few affections
more universally felt by all classes of society, yet it is seldom at
present considered of sufficient consequence to require medical advice. To
those nevertheless who, from sedentary habits, and depraved digestion, are
the most frequent subjects of it, it is a source of great anxiety and
misery, breaking in upon their repose, and filling the mind with constant
alarms for more serious consequences, "making night hideous," and
rendering the couch, which is to others the sweet refuge from all the
cares of life, to them an object of dread and terror. To such persons, any
alleviation of their sufferings will be considered an act of philanthropy;
as they are now in general only deterred from applying to the
practitioners of medicine for relief, from the idea that their case is out
of the reach of medicine.
It is a very well known fact, however, that this affection is by no means
free from danger. I have known one instance in which a paroxysm of it
certainly proved fatal, and I have heard of several others. I do not doubt
indeed but that this happens oftener than is suspected, where persons have
been found dead in their beds, who had retired to rest in apparent health.
I do not know that any late writer has observed a fatal case of
Night-Mare, but we find a circumstance recorded by Coelius Aurelianus, who
is supposed to have lived a short time before Galen, which, if true, is
very remarkable; and I know no reason why it should be doubted. Yet I am
aware that in the age in which we live, it is a common practice, not
merely to doubt, but to contradict every fact recorded by ancient writers,
which, if admitted, would militate against any received theory. Coelius
Aurelianus, however, informs us, upon the authority of _Silimachus_, a
follower of Hippocrates, that this affection was once epidemic at Rome,
and that a great number of persons in that city died of it.[2]
A young man, of sober habits, about thirty years of age, by trade a
carpenter, had been all his life subject to severe attacks of Night-Mare.
During the paroxysm he frequently struggled violently, and vociferated
loudly. Being at Norwich for some business, which detained him there
several weeks, he one night retired to bed in apparent good health;
whether he had eaten supper, or what he had taken previously to going to
bed, or during the day, I cannot now remember. In the night, or towards
morning, he was heard by some of the family in the house where he lodged
to vociferate and groan as he had been accustomed to do during the
paroxysms of Night-Mare; but as he was, after no great length of time,
perfectly quiet, no person went to his assistance. In the morning,
however, it was soon observed that he did not, as usual, make his
appearance, and on some person going into his room, he was found dead,
having thrown himself by his exertions and struggles out of bed, with his
feet, however, still entangled among the bed-clothes. This patient, and
the circumstances attending his death, were very well known to me, and I
have not the least doubt that it was Night-Mare which proved fatal to him.
A similar case has been related to me by a person deserving of credit,
and I do not doubt but they are of more frequent occurrence than is
generally supposed. It may appear surprising to some, that a person should
struggle with so much violence as to throw himself out of bed, and yet not
shake off the Night-Mare, since, in general, it is sufficient to call a
person by his name, and he will recover. This is indeed true in common
cases, and in every case it is of much more service than any exertions
which the patient himself can make. I once at sea, in a paroxysm of
Night-Mare, threw myself out of my cot, and it nearly cost me my life. Had
any person been near to have taken hold of my hand, and have called to me,
I should have been easily recovered, whilst, notwithstanding my struggles,
and the violence with which I fell out of my cot, I lay nevertheless for
some time partly upon a chest, and partly upon the cot, without being able
to recover myself. I cannot help thinking that, but for the violent
motion of the ship (as it was blowing a gale of wind), and the noise from
every thing about me, that paroxysm of Night-Mare would have proved fatal.
The disease had then gained very much upon me, and was at its greatest
height.
Although instances of a fatal termination of this disease may be rare; it
is not so, to find it degenerate into Epilepsy, of which it is frequently
the forerunner, and to which, when it has become habitual, it appears to
bear a great affinity. There is however a great difference in the degree
of danger, between an accidental and an habitual Night-Mare, which we
shall have occasion to notice hereafter.
I shall begin by describing this affection as it most commonly occurs,
pointing out the various degrees and varieties of it, and the persons most
subject to it. Its remote and proximate causes will be the next subject of
consideration, and lastly the means necessary to be pursued for avoiding
it, as well as those likely to afford immediate relief.
This affection has been very elegantly and correctly described both by
physicians and poets. There are two descriptions of the latter kind which
I cannot help placing before the reader; the first is given by the Prince
of Latin Poets; the other by one, (not the least,) of our own country.
_Ac veluti in somnis, oculos ubi languida pressit
Nocte quies, nequidquam avidos extendere cursus
Velle videmur, et in mediis conatibus aegri
Succidimus; non lingua valet, non corpore notae
Sufficiunt vires, nec vox aut verba sequuntur._
VIRGIL. _AEneid. Lib. xii. v. 909. et sequent._
In broken dreams the image rose
Of varied perils, pains, and woes;
His steed now flounders in the brake,
Now sinks his barge upon the lake;
Now leader of a broken host,
His standard falls, his honour's lost.
Then--from my couch may heavenly might
Chase that worst phantom of the night!
LADY OF THE LAKE, Canto 1. xxiii.
In tracing out the symptoms and mode of attack, I shall particularize
those symptoms which I have experienced in my own person, and take notice
likewise of those described by other writers on the subject.
First then, this disease attacks always during sleep. This is a truth of
which I am now well assured, although frequently the evidence of my senses
has apparently produced a contrary conviction. Whatever may be the
situation of the patient at the moment previous to the invasion of the
disease, he is at that moment asleep, although the transition from the
waking to the sleeping state may be so rapid as to be imperceptible. I
will explain this part of the subject more fully by and by, at present we
will assume the fact, and proceed to enumerate the symptoms. If the
patient be in a profound sleep, he is generally alarmed with some
disagreeable dream; he imagines that he is exposed to some danger, or
pursued by some enemy which he cannot avoid; frequently he feels as
though his legs were tied, or deprived of the power of motion; sometimes
he fancies himself confined in some very close place, | 308.14928 | 1,491 |
2023-11-16 18:20:54.8306710 | 969 | 554 |
Produced by Thiers Halliwell, deaurider and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
Transcriber’s notes:
Except for the spelling corrections listed below, the text of this
book has been preserved as in the original, including inconsistent
punctuation, hyphenation and accents.
Lepidotera → Lepidoptera
coccoon → cocoon
subtances → substances
Bütchsli → Bütschli
In this plain-text version, paired underscores denote _italicised
text_, paired asterisks denote *bold text*, a ^ (caret) indicates
^superscripted text and an underscore denotes _subscripted text.
Footnotes have been positioned below the relevant paragraphs and
illustration captions adjacent to the relevant text.
THE COCKROACH
An Introduction to the Study of Insects
STUDIES IN COMPARATIVE ANATOMY--III
THE STRUCTURE AND LIFE-HISTORY
OF
THE COCKROACH
(_PERIPLANETA ORIENTALIS_)
An Introduction to the Study of Insects
BY
L. C. MIALL
PROFESSOR OF BIOLOGY IN THE YORKSHIRE COLLEGE, LEEDS
AND
ALFRED DENNY
LECTURER ON BIOLOGY IN THE FIRTH COLLEGE, SHEFFIELD
LONDON: LOVELL REEVE & CO.
LEEDS: RICHARD JACKSON
1886
STUDIES IN COMPARATIVE ANATOMY.
I.--THE SKULL OF THE CROCODILE. A Manual for Students. By Professor
L. C. MIALL. 8vo, 2_s._ 6_d._
II.--THE ANATOMY OF THE INDIAN ELEPHANT. By Professor L. C. MIALL
and F. GREENWOOD. 8vo, 5_s._
III.--THE COCKROACH: An Introduction to the Study of Insects. By
Professor L. C. MIALL and A. DENNY. 8vo, 7_s._ 6_d._
IV.--MEGALICHTHYS; A Ganoid Fish of the Coal Measures. By Professor
L. C. MIALL (_In preparation_).
MAY BE HAD OF
LOVELL REEVE & CO., LONDON;
RICHARD JACKSON, LEEDS.
PREFACE.
That the thorough study of concrete animal types is a necessary
preliminary to good work in Zoology or Comparative Anatomy will now
be granted by all competent judges. At a time when these subjects,
though much lectured upon, were rarely taught, Döllinger, of Würzburg,
found out the right way. He took young students, often singly, and
made them master such animal types as came to hand, thereby teaching
them how to work for themselves, and fixing in their minds a nucleus
of real knowledge, around which more might crystallise. “What do you
want lectures for? Bring any animal and dissect it here,” said he to
Baer, then a young doctor longing to work at Comparative Anatomy.[1]
It was Döllinger who trained Purkinje, Pander, Baer, and Agassiz,
and such fame cannot be heightened by words of praise. In our own
time and country Döllinger’s methods have been practised by Professor
Huxley, whose descriptive guides, such as the Elementary Biology and
the delightful little book on the Crayfish, now make it easy for
every teacher to work on the same lines. From the description of the
Cockroach in Huxley’s Anatomy of Invertebrated Animals came the impulse
which has encouraged us to treat that type at length. It may easily
turn out that in adding some facts and a great many words to his
account, we have diluted what was valuable for its concentration. But
there are students--those, namely, who intend to give serious attention
to Entomology--who will find our explanations deficient rather than
excessive in detail. It is our belief and hope that naturalists will
some day recoil from their extravagant love of words and names, and
turn to structure, development, life-history, and other aspects of the
animal world which have points of contact with the life of man. We have
written for such as desire to | 308.150081 | 1,492 |
2023-11-16 18:20:55.0576240 | 505 | 92 |
Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
THE TALE OF JOLLY ROBIN
TUCK-ME-IN TALES
(Trademark Registered)
BY
ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY
AUTHOR OF
SLEEPY-TIME TALES
(Trademark Registered)
The Tale of Jolly Robin
The Tale of Old Mr. Crow
The Tale of Solomon Owl
The Tale of Jasper Jay
The Tale of Rusty Wren
The Tale of Daddy Longlegs
The Tale of Kiddie Katydid
The Tale of Buster Bumblebee
The Tale of Freddy Firefly
The Tale of Betsy Butterfly
The Tale of Bobby Bobolink
The Tale or Chirpy Cricket
The Tale of Mrs. Ladybug
The Tale of Reddy Woodpecker
The Tale of Grandmother Goose
[Illustration: Jolly Robin Asks Jasper Jay About The Sign
Frontispiece--(Page 44)]
TUCK-ME-IN TALES
THE TALE OF JOLLY ROBIN
BY
ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY
Author of
"SLEEPY-TIME TALES"
(Registered Trademark)
ILLUSTRATED BY
HARRY L. SMITH
NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS
Made in the United States of America
Copyright, 1917, by
GROSSET & DUNLAP
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I Nestlings 1
II Learning to Fly 6
III The Wide, Wide World 11
IV What Jolly Did Best 16
V Laughing for Mr. Crow 21
VI Tickling a Nose 26
VII A New Way to Travel 33
VIII Jolly is Left Behind 38
IX Jolly's Mistake 43
X The White Giant 48
XI What a Snowball Did 53
XII Jolly Feels Better 57
XIII The Hermit 64
XIV One or Two Blunders 69
XV Lost--A Cousin! 74
XVI Jealous Jasper Jay 80
XVII Only a Rooster 86
XVIII On Top of the Barn | 308.377034 | 1,493 |
2023-11-16 18:20:55.1081440 | 403 | 91 |
Produced by David Edwards, Emmy and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
[Illustration: [See page 64
"I KNOW," HE SAID--"I KNOW A WAY"]
MR. TURTLE'S FLYING ADVENTURE
[Illustration: HOLLOW TREE STORIES
BY ALBERT BIGELOW PAINE
ILLUSTRATED BY J. M. CONDE]
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
HOLLOW TREE STORIES
BY ALBERT BIGELOW PAINE
12mo, Cloth. Fully Illustrated
MR. TURTLE'S FLYING ADVENTURE
MR. CROW AND THE WHITEWASH
MR. RABBIT'S WEDDING
HOW MR. DOG GOT EVEN
HOW MR. RABBIT LOST HIS TAIL
MR. RABBIT'S BIG DINNER
MAKING UP WITH MR. DOG
MR. 'POSSUM'S GREAT BALLOON TRIP
WHEN JACK RABBIT WAS A LITTLE BOY
HOLLOW TREE AND DEEP WOODS BOOK
Illustrated. 8vo.
HOLLOW TREE SNOWED-IN BOOK
Illustrated. 8vo.
HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK
MR. TURTLE'S FLYING ADVENTURE
* * * * *
Copyright, 1915, 1916, 1917, by Harper & Brothers
Printed in the United States of America
Published October, 1917
CONTENTS
PAGE
MR. TURTLE'S FLYING ADVENTURE 9
THE DEEP WOODS | 308.427554 | 1,494 |
2023-11-16 18:20:55.1870340 | 1,062 | 509 |
Produced by Juliet Sutherland, David Garcia and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
[Transcriber's Note: Portions of this text are written in an archaic
manner in which macrons over single or double letters stand in place
for an abbreviation. This has been represented in the text version
by enclosing the letter in square brackets and preceeding the letter
(or letters) with a tilde character. There are also copious single
and multiple superscripted abbreviations represented in the text version
by enclosing the superscripted characters with curly braces, preceded
by a caret.]
Series XXVI Nos. 1-2-3
JOHNS HOPKINS UNIVERSITY STUDIES
IN
Historical and Political Science
Under the Direction of the Departments
of History, Political Economy, and
Political Science
* * * * *
BRITISH COMMITTEES, COMMISSIONS, AND COUNCILS OF TRADE AND PLANTATIONS,
1622-1675
BY CHARLES M. ANDREWS
Professor of History
BALTIMORE
THE JOHNS HOPKINS PRESS
PUBLISHED MONTHLY
January, February, March, 1908
Copyright 1908 by
THE JOHNS HOPKINS PRESS
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
CONTROL OF TRADE AND PLANTATIONS UNDER JAMES I AND CHARLES I.
Before 1622, Privy Council the sole authority 10
Commission of Trade, 1622-1623 11
Commission of Trade, 1625-1626 12
Privy Council Committee of Trade, 1630-1640 13
Temporary Plantation Commissions, 1630-1633 14
Laud Commission for Plantations, 1634-1641 14
Subcommittees for Plantations, 1632-1639 17
Privy Council in control, 1640-1642 21
Parliamentary Commission for Plantations, 1643-1648 21
CHAPTER II.
CONTROL OF TRADE AND PLANTATIONS DURING THE INTERREGNUM.
The Council of Trade, 1650-1653 24
Plantation Affairs controlled by the Council of State, 1649-1651 30
Standing Committee of the Council for Plantations,
1651-April, 1653 33
Plantation Affairs controlled by the Council of State,
April-Dec., 1653 35
Trade controlled by Council of State and Parliamentary Committees,
Dec., 1653-June, 1655 36
Importance of the years 1654-1655 36
The great Trade Committee, 1655-1657 38
Parliamentary Committees of Trade, 1656-1658 43
Plantation Affairs controlled by Protector's Council and Council
of the State, 1653-1660 43
Special Council Committees for Plantations, 1653-1659 44
Council Committee for Jamaica and Foreign Plantations, 1655-1660 44
Select Committee for Jamaica, known later as Committee
for America, 1655-1660 45
Inadequacy of Control during the Interregnum 47
CHAPTER III.
THE PROPOSALS OF THE MERCHANTS: NOELL AND POVEY.
Career of Martin Noell 49
Career of Thomas Povey 51
Enterprises of the Merchants, 1657-1659 53
Proposals of Noell and Povey 55
"Overtures" of 1654 55
"Queries" of 1656 58
Additional Proposals, 1656, 1657 58
CHAPTER IV.
COMMITTEES AND COUNCILS UNDER THE RESTORATION.
Plantation Committee of Privy Council, June 4, 1660 61
Work of Privy Council Committee 63
Appointment of Select Councils of Trade and Plantations, 1660 64
Membership of these Councils 67
Comparison of Povey's "Overtures" with the Instructions for
Council for Foreign Plantations 68
Comparison of Povey's "First Draft" with Instructions for
Council of Trade 71
Work of Council for Foreign Plantations, 1660-1665 74
Control of Plantation Affairs, 1665-1670 79
Work of Council of Trade, 1660-1664 80
Parliamentary Committee of Trade, 1664 85
Commission for | 308.506444 | 1,495 |
2023-11-16 18:20:55.2564780 | 692 | 109 |
Produced by Bryan Ness and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries.)
FETICHISM IN WEST AFRICA
[Illustration: FETICH MAGICIAN. (With horns, wooden mask, spear, and
sword; dress of leaves of palm and plantain.)]
FETICHISM IN WEST AFRICA
_Forty Years' Observation of Native Customs
and Superstitions_
BY THE REV. ROBERT HAMILL NASSAU, M.D., S.T.D.
FOR FORTY YEARS A MISSIONARY IN THE GABUN DISTRICT
OF KONGO-FRANCAISE
AUTHOR OF "CROWNED IN PALM LAND," "MAWEDO"
WITH TWELVE ILLUSTRATIONS
YOUNG PEOPLE'S
MISSIONARY MOVEMENT
156 FIFTH AVENUE
NEW YORK
_Copyright, 1904_
BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
Published October, 1904
PREFACE
On the 2d of July, 1861, I sailed from New York City on a little brig, the
"Ocean Eagle," with destination to the island of Corisco, near the
equator, on the West Coast of Africa. My first introduction to the natives
of Africa was a month later, when the vessel stopped at Monrovia, the
capital of the Liberian Republic, to land a portion of its trade goods,
and at other ports of Liberia, Sinoe, and Cape Palmas; thence to Corisco
on September 12.
Corisco is a microcosm, only five miles long by three miles wide; its
surface diversified with every variety of landscape, proportioned to its
size, of hill, prairie, stream, and lake. It is located in the eye of the
elephant-head shaped Bay of Corisco, and from twelve to twenty miles
distant from the mainland. Into the bay flow two large rivers,--the Muni
(the Rio D'Angra of commerce) and the Munda (this latter representing the
elephant's proboscis).
The island, with adjacent mainland, was inhabited by the Benga tribe. It
was the headquarters of the American Presbyterian Mission. On the voyage I
had studied the Benga dialect with my fellow-passenger, the senior member
of the Mission, Rev. James L. Mackey; and was able, on my landing, to
converse so well with the natives that they at once enthusiastically
accepted me as an interested friend. This has ever since been my status
among all other tribes.
I lived four years on the island, as preacher, teacher, and itinerant to
the adjacent mainland, south to the Gabun River and its Mpongwe tribe,
east up the Muni and Munda rivers, and north to the Benito River.
In my study of the natives' language my attention was drawn closely to
their customs; and in my inquiry into their religion I at once saw how it
was bound up in these customs. I met with other white men--traders | 308.575888 | 1,496 |
2023-11-16 18:20:55.6821210 | 1,061 | 448 |
Produced by Colin Bell, Michael, Rare Books & Manuscripts
Collection of The Ohio State University Libraries, and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Zula
BY H. ESSELSTYN LINDLEY
BROADWAY PUBLISHING COMPANY
835 BROADWAY : : NEW YORK
Copyright, 1905
by
H. ESSELSTYN LINDLEY
All Rights Reserved
TO THE HON. S. W. BURROUGHS AND GEO. W. MOORE OF DETROIT, MICH. AND TO
MY ESTEEMED FRIEND MR. W. A. ESSELSTYN OF NEW YORK IS THIS VOLUME MOST
RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. The Arrest. 1
II. June's Pity. 10
III. The Chastisement. 19
IV. The Escape. 29
V. Zula's Friend. 35
VI. Silvery Waves. 39
VII. The Disaster. 48
VIII. Cruel Crisp. 53
IX. Free Again. 65
X. Scott's Valet. 70
XI. Scott's Wife. 78
XII. A Cloud. 86
XIII. A Bold Plot. 94
XIV. Bright Hopes. 103
XV. Rejected. 115
XVI. A Shadowed Home. 122
XVII. The Removal. 128
XVIII. The Interview. 132
XIX. A Fatal Step. 138
XX. Mr. Le Moyne of Paris. 144
XXI. Paul and Scott. 147
XXII. Looking for a Place. 152
XXIII. June's Reason--Letter From Paul. 162
XXIV. A Scene on the Water. 176
XXV. The Elopement. 184
XXVI. The Old House at Roxbury. 194
XXVII. Insane Bessie. 199
XXVIII. Bessie's Visit. 208
XXIX. The Fortune Teller. 216
XXX. Bessie's Sad Story. 227
XXXI. Repenting at Leisure. 235
XXXII. A Bitter Atonement. 248
XXXIII. Still at Work. 262
XXXIV. A Game of Hearts. 268
XXXV. A Sad Event. 278
XXXVI. Solving the Problem. 292
XXXVII. General Explanation. 312
CHAPTER I.
THE ARREST.
"Oh, you little wretch! What are you about? You dreadfully sinful
little creature. Police, police!"
The speaker, a richly dressed woman, was just entering the spacious
dining-room, as she caught sight of a dusky little form in the act of
taking a set of silver spoons from the heavy gold-lined holder. The
child raised a pair of coal-black eyes to the lady's face as she
turned to pass out of the dining-room door, which had been left open
to let in the cool June breeze; but as she was about to cross the
threshold she was seized by the strong hands of a policeman, who had
answered Mrs. Wilmer's call, and the silver was scattered in a dozen
different directions.
"Did you ever see such a bold little creature in all your life? Who
would have thought she would dare come in here, right in broad
daylight, and steal my spoons off the table? Why, it's awful!"
"It's lucky you caught her at it," said the officer, "for she is as
quick as a deer, and saucy enough, no doubt, but never mind, we'll put
the little jade where she won't steal anything again for a day or two,
at least." He took her roughly by the shoulder in the attempt to lead
her away.
"Oh, don't be too hard on her, mother," said a young man who had
followed her into the room, "perhaps she did not know just how wicked
it was."
His fine eyes looked pityingly on the child, who could not have been
more than ten years of age.
"Oh, nonsense, sir, that is too old a story. She is old enough to have
some sense, the young gypsy. I have seen too many of these young
burglars to be fooled by 'em. It won't do to encourage 'em."
"I'll give you a 'V' if you will let her go."
"Why, | 309.001531 | 1,497 |
2023-11-16 18:20:55.9863710 | 1,041 | 385 |
The Academic Questions,
Treatise De Finibus.
and
Tusculan Disputations
Of
M. T. Cicero
With
A Sketch of the Greek Philosophers Mentioned by Cicero.
Literally Translated by
C. D. Yonge, B.A.
London: George Bell and Sons
York Street
Covent Garden
Printed by William Clowes and Sons,
Stamford Street and Charing Cross.
1875
CONTENTS
A Sketch of the Greek Philosophers Mentioned by Cicero.
Introduction.
First Book Of The Academic Questions.
Second Book Of The Academic Questions.
A Treatise On The Chief Good And Evil.
First Book Of The Treatise On The Chief Good And Evil.
Second Book Of The Treatise On The Chief Good And Evil.
Third Book Of The Treatise On The Chief Good And Evil.
Fourth Book Of The Treatise On The Chief Good And Evil.
Fifth Book Of The Treatise On The Chief Good And Evil.
The Tusculan Disputations.
Introduction.
Book I. On The Contempt Of Death.
Book II. On Bearing Pain.
Book III. On Grief Of Mind.
Book IV. On Other Perturbations Of The Mind.
Book V. Whether Virtue Alone Be Sufficient For A Happy Life.
Footnotes
A SKETCH OF THE GREEK PHILOSOPHERS MENTIONED BY CICERO.
In the works translated in the present volume, Cicero makes such constant
references to the doctrines and systems of the ancient Greek Philosophers,
that it seems desirable to give a brief account of the most remarkable of
those mentioned by him; not entering at length into the history of their
lives, but indicating the principal theories which they maintained, and
the main points in which they agreed with, or differed from, each other.
The earliest of them was _Thales_, who was born at Miletus, about 640 B.C.
He was a man of great political sagacity and influence; but we have to
consider him here as the earliest philosopher who appears to have been
convinced of the necessity of scientific proof of whatever was put forward
to be believed, and as the originator of mathematics and geometry. He was
also a great astronomer; for we read in Herodotus (i. 74) that he
predicted the eclipse of the sun which happened in the reign of Alyattes,
king of Lydia, B.C. 609. He asserted that water is the origin of all
things; that everything is produced out of it, and everything is resolved
into it. He also asserted that it is the soul which originates all motion,
so much so, that he attributes a soul to the magnet. Aristotle also
represents him as saying that everything is full of Gods. He does not
appear to have left any written treatises behind him: we are uncertain
when or where he died, but he is said to have lived to a great age--to 78,
or, according to some writers, to 90 years of age.
_Anaximander_, a countryman of Thales, was also born at Miletus, about 30
years later; he is said to have been a pupil of the former, and deserves
especial mention as the oldest philosophical writer among the Greeks. He
did not devote himself to the mathematical studies of Thales, but rather
to speculations concerning the generation and origin of the world; as to
which his opinions are involved in some obscurity. He appears, however, to
have considered that all things were formed of a sort of matter, which he
called {~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON WITH VARIA~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA WITH PSILI AND OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER RHO~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}, or The Infinite; which was something everlasting and
divine, though not invested with any spiritual or intelligent nature. His
own works have not come down to us; but, according to Aristotle, he
considered this "Infinite" as consisting of a mixture of simple,
unchangeable elements, from which all things were produced by the
concurrence of homogeneous particles already existing in it,--a process
which he attributed to the constant conflict between heat and cold, and to
affinities of the particles: in this he was opposed to the doctrine of
Thales, Anaximenes, and Diogenes of Apollonia, who agreed in deriving all
things from a single, not _changeable_, principle.
Anaximander further held that the earth was of a cylindrical form,
s | 309.305781 | 1,498 |
2023-11-16 18:20:56.2090740 | 955 | 602 | ROCKIES***
E-text prepared by Stephen Hutcheson, Chris Curnow, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 45630-h.htm or 45630-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/45630/45630-h/45630-h.htm)
or
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/45630/45630-h.zip)
Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
[Illustration: PREPARING BREAKFAST (Two adult Chipping Sparrows breaking
worm into pieces to feed young.)]
BIRD GUIDE
LAND BIRDS EAST OF THE ROCKIES
From Parrots to Bluebirds
by
CHESTER A. REED
Author of
North American Birds' Eggs, and, with Frank M. Chapman, of Color Key to
North American Birds. Curator in Ornithology, Worcester Natural History
Society.
Garden City New York
Doubleday, Page & Company
1919
Copyrighted, 1906, 1909 by Chas. K. Reed.
PREFACE
[Illustration: Chickadee]
The native birds are one of our nation's most valuable assets. Destroy
them, and in a comparatively few years the insects will have multiplied
to such an extent that trees will be denuded of their foliage, plants
will cease to thrive and crops cannot be raised. This is not fancy but
plain facts. Look at the little Chickadee on the side of this page. She
was photographed while entering a bird box, with about twenty-five plant
lice to feed her seven young; about two hundred times a day, either she
or her mate, made trips with similar loads to feed the growing
youngsters.
It has been found, by observation and dissection, that a Cuckoo consumes
daily from 50 to 400 caterpillars or their equivalent, while a Chickadee
will eat from 200 to 500 insects or up to 4,000 insect or worm eggs. 100
insects a day is a conservative estimate of the quantity consumed by each
individual insectivorous bird. By carefully estimating the birds in
several areas, I find that, in Massachusetts, there are not less than
five insect-eating birds per acre. Thus this state with its 8,000 square
miles has a useful bird population of not less than 25,600,000, which,
for each day's fare, requires the enormous total of 2,560,000,000
insects. That such figures can be expressed in terms better understood,
it has been computed that about 120,000 average insects fill a bushel
measure. This means that the daily consumption, of chiefly obnoxious
insects, in Massachusetts is 21,000 bushels. This estimate is good for
about five months in the year, May to September, inclusive; during the
remainder of the year, the insects, eggs and larvae destroyed by our
Winter, late Fall and early Spring migrants will be equivalent to nearly
half this quantity.
It is the duty, and should be the pleasure, of every citizen to do all in
his or her power to protect these valuable creatures, and to encourage
them to remain about our homes. The author believes that the best means
of protection is the disseminating of knowledge concerning them, and the
creating of an interest in their habits and modes of life. With that
object in view, this little book is prepared. May it serve its purpose
and help those already interested in the subject, and may it be the
medium for starting many others on the road to knowledge of our wild,
feathered friends.
CHESTER A. REED.
Worcester, Mass.,
October 1 1905.
INTRODUCTION
It is an undisputed fact that a great many of our birds are becoming more
scarce each year, while a few are, even now, on the verge of extinction.
The decrease in numbers of a few species may be attributed chiefly to the
elements, such as a long-continued period of cold weather or ice storms
in the winter, and rainy weather during the nesting season; however, in
one way or another, and often unwittingly, man is chiefly responsible for
the diminution in numbers. If I were to name the forces | 309.528484 | 1,499 |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.