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 18:18:14.9384730 | 1,062 | 393 |
E-text prepared by Al Haines
Transcriber's Note:
The Greek words in this e-book have been transliterated according
to Project Gutenberg's Greek How-To. Such words are indicated
with surrounding underscores. There are a couple of instances
of author-transliterated Greek words. Those words are bracketed
and not italicized. Underscores are also used to indicate
italicization of words, but in this e-book such words are always
English words.
THE GOSPEL OF THE HEREAFTER
by
J. PATERSON-SMYTH, B.D., LL.D., LITT. D., D.C.L,
_Rector of St. Georges, Montreal, Late Professor
of Pastoral Theology, University of Dublin_
_Author of "How We Got Our Bible," "The
Old Documents and the New Bible," etc., etc., etc._
New York ---- Chicago ---- Toronto
Fleming H. Revell Company
London And Edinburgh
Copyright, 1910, by
Fleming H. Revell Company
New York: 158 Fifth Avenue
Chicago: 17 North Wabash Ave.
London: 21 Paternoster Square
Edinburgh: 75 Princes Street
_To My Wife_
Contents
PART I
THE NEAR HEREAFTER
I. "I"
II. THE THREE STAGES OF EXISTENCE
III. WHAT THE BIBLE SAYS ABOUT THE NEAR HEREAFTER
IV. WHAT THE BIBLE AND THE CHURCH SAY ABOUT THE NEAR HEREAFTER
V. THE CRISIS OF DEATH
VI. "I" "MYSELF" AFTER DEATH
VII. RECOGNITION
VIII. THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS
IX. GROWTH AND PURIFICATION
X. PROBATION IN THIS LIFE
XI. MINISTRY IN THE UNSEEN LIFE
XII. CONCLUSION
PART II
THE FAR HEREAFTER
I. THE JUDGMENT
II. HELL
III. HEAVEN
Publishers' Note
This tenth American (and sixteenth British) edition has been carefully
revised and where necessary rewritten by the author. We call special
attention to an interesting note on page 108.
This year a Norwegian edition has been published, translated by Judge
Hambro of the Supreme Court of Norway assisted by the Bishops of
Christiania and Trondheim. Also request has been received for
permission to translate the book for readers in Holland. But more
interesting is a letter from a Brahmin gentleman in India asking
permission to produce at his own cost an edition for his people and
dedicated on the front page, "TO MY SON, SEREM ALI, WHO IS NOW IN THE
NEAR HEREAFTER."
Foreword
The Lord is risen, but the people do not know it. There is no death,
but the people do not believe it. Human life is the most exciting
romantic adventure in the Universe, going on stage after stage till we
are older than Methuselah and then on again through the infinite
eternities--and yet men pass into the Unseen as stupidly as the
caterpillar on the cabbage-leaf, without curiosity or joy or wonder or
excitement at the boundless career ahead.
Instead of the thrill of coming adventure we have the dull grey
monotony of aged lives drawing near the close, and the horror of this
war is doubled and the torture of wife or mother as the beloved one
crosses the barrier.
What is the matter with us, Christian people? Do we not know? Or have
we lost our beliefs? or has imagination grown dulled by too frequent
repetition of God's good news?
* * * * *
It was so different in early days when the world was younger, when
Christ's revelation was fresh. Look at St. John, four-score years and
ten, like an eager boy looking into the Great Adventure: "Beloved, now
are we the sons of God, and IT DOTH NOT YET APPEAR WHAT WE SHALL BE."[1]
What we shall be! What we shall be! Is not that the chief delight of
being young? Guessing and hoping and wondering what we shall be.
The dreariest thing in life is dulness--monotony. The brightest thing
in life is outlook--vision. And God has given us that. Like St. John
we too can stand on the rim of the world and look out over the wall.
* * * * *
Life is full of latent possibilities--of outlook, of romance, of
exciting futures. God has made it so, if we would only see it. God's
world | 148.257883 | 600 |
2023-11-16 18:18:14.9405690 | 2,042 | 52 |
Produced by John Bickers and Dagny
LETTERS OF TWO BRIDES
By Honore de Balzac
Translated by R. S. Scott
DEDICATION
To George Sand
Your name, dear George, while casting a reflected radiance on my
book, can gain no new glory from this page. And yet it is neither
self-interest nor diffidence which has led me to place it there,
but only the wish that it should bear witness to the solid
friendship between us, which has survived our wanderings and
separations, and triumphed over the busy malice of the world. This
feeling is hardly likely now to change. The goodly company of
friendly names, which will remain attached to my works, forms an
element of pleasure in the midst of the vexation caused by their
increasing number. Each fresh book, in fact, gives rise to fresh
annoyance, were it only in the reproaches aimed at my too prolific
pen, as though it could rival in fertility the world from which I
draw my models! Would it not be a fine thing, George, if the
future antiquarian of dead literatures were to find in this
company none but great names and generous hearts, friends bound by
pure and holy ties, the illustrious figures of the century? May I
not justly pride myself on this assured possession, rather than on
a popularity necessarily unstable? For him who knows you well, it
is happiness to be able to sign himself, as I do here,
Your friend,
DE BALZAC.
PARIS, June 1840.
LETTERS OF TWO BRIDES
FIRST PART
I. LOUISE DE CHAULIEU TO RENEE DE MAUCOMBE. PARIS, September.
Sweetheart, I too am free! And I am the first too, unless you have
written to Blois, at our sweet tryst of letter-writing.
Raise those great black eyes of yours, fixed on my opening sentence,
and keep this excitement for the letter which shall tell you of my first
love. By the way, why always "first?" Is there, I wonder, a second love?
Don't go running on like this, you will say, but tell me rather how
you made your escape from the convent where you were to take your vows.
Well, dear, I don't know about the Carmelites, but the miracle of my own
deliverance was, I can assure you, most humdrum. The cries of an alarmed
conscience triumphed over the dictates of a stern policy--there's the
whole mystery. The sombre melancholy which seized me after you left
hastened the happy climax, my aunt did not want to see me die of a
decline, and my mother, whose one unfailing cure for my malady was a
novitiate, gave way before her.
So I am in Paris, thanks to you, my love! Dear Renee, could you have
seen me the day I found myself parted from you, well might you have
gloried in the deep impression you had made on so youthful a bosom. We
had lived so constantly together, sharing our dreams and letting our
fancy roam together, that I verily believe our souls had become welded
together, like those two Hungarian girls, whose death we heard about
from M. Beauvisage--poor misnamed being! Never surely was man better cut
out by nature for the post of convent physician!
Tell me, did you not droop and sicken with your darling?
In my gloomy depression, I could do nothing but count over the ties
which bind us. But it seemed as though distance had loosened them; I
wearied of life, like a turtle-dove widowed of her mate. Death smiled
sweetly on me, and I was proceeding quietly to die. To be at Blois, at
the Carmelites, consumed by dread of having to take my vows there, a
Mlle. de la Valliere, but without her prelude, and without my Renee! How
could I not be sick--sick unto death?
How different it used to be! That monotonous existence, where every hour
brings its duty, its prayer, its task, with such desperate regularity
that you can tell what a Carmelite sister is doing in any place, at any
hour of the night or day; that deadly dull routine, which crushes out
all interest in one's surroundings, had become for us two a world of
life and movement. Imagination had thrown open her fairy realms, and in
these our spirits ranged at will, each in turn serving as magic steed
to the other, the more alert quickening the drowsy; the world from
which our bodies were shut out became the playground of our fancy, which
reveled there in frolicsome adventure. The very _Lives of the Saints_
helped us to understand what was so carefully left unsaid! But the day
when I was reft of your sweet company, I became a true Carmelite, such
as they appeared to us, a modern Danaid, who, instead of trying to fill
a bottomless barrel, draws every day, from Heaven knows what deep, an
empty pitcher, thinking to find it full.
My aunt knew nothing of this inner life. How could she, who has made a
paradise for herself within the two acres of her convent, understand my
revolt against life? A religious life, if embraced by girls of our age,
demands either an extreme simplicity of soul, such as we, sweetheart, do
not possess, or else an ardor for self-sacrifice like that which makes
my aunt so noble a character. But she sacrificed herself for a brother
to whom she was devoted; to do the same for an unknown person or an idea
is surely more than can be asked of mortals.
For the last fortnight I have been gulping down so many reckless words,
burying so many reflections in my bosom, and accumulating such a store
of things to tell, fit for your ear alone, that I should certainly
have been suffocated but for the resource of letter-writing as a sorry
substitute for our beloved talks. How hungry one's heart gets! I am
beginning my journal this morning, and I picture to myself that yours
is already started, and that, in a few days, I shall be at home in your
beautiful Gemenos valley, which I know only through your descriptions,
just as you will live that Paris life, revealed to you hitherto only in
our dreams.
Well, then, sweet child, know that on a certain morning--a red-letter
day in my life--there arrived from Paris a lady companion and Philippe,
the last remaining of my grandmother's valets, charged to carry me off.
When my aunt summoned me to her room and told me the news, I could not
speak for joy, and only gazed at her stupidly.
"My child," she said, in her guttural voice, "I can see that you leave
me without regret, but this farewell is not the last; we shall meet
again. God has placed on your forehead the sign of the elect. You have
the pride which leads to heaven or to hell, but your nature is too noble
to choose the downward path. I know you better than you know yourself;
with you, passion, I can see, will be very different from what it is
with most women."
She drew me gently to her and kissed my forehead. The kiss made my flesh
creep, for it burned with that consuming fire which eats away her life,
which has turned to black the azure of her eyes, and softened the lines
about them, has furrowed the warm ivory of her temples, and cast a
sallow tinge over the beautiful face.
Before replying, I kissed her hands.
"Dear aunt," I said, "I shall never forget your kindness; and if it has
not made your nunnery all that it ought to be for my health of body and
soul, you may be sure nothing short of a broken heart will bring me
back again--and that you would not wish for me. You will not see me
here again till my royal lover has deserted me, and I warn you that if I
catch him, death alone shall tear him from me. I fear no Montespan."
She smiled and said:
"Go, madcap, and take your idle fancies with you. There is certainly
more of the bold Montespan in you than of the gentle la Valliere."
I threw my arms round her. The poor lady could not refrain from
escorting me to the carriage. There her tender gaze was divided between
me and the armorial bearings.
At Beaugency night overtook me, still sunk in a stupor of the mind
produced by these strange parting words. What can be awaiting me in this
world for which I have so hungered?
To begin with, I found no one to receive me; my heart had been schooled
in vain. My mother was at the Bois de Boulogne, my father at the
Council; my brother, the Duc de Rhetore, never comes in, I am told,
till it is time to dress for dinner. Miss Griffith (she is not unlike a
griffin) and Philippe took me to my rooms.
The suite is the one which belonged to my beloved grandmother, the
Princess de Vaure | 148.259979 | 601 |
2023-11-16 18:18:14.9582190 | 4,080 | 74 |
CHIPS FROM A GERMAN WORKSHOP
BY
F. MAX MUeLLER, M. A.,
FOREIGN MEMBER OF THE FRENCH INSTITUTE, ETC.
VOLUME V.
MISCELLANEOUS LATER ESSAYS.
NEW YORK:
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS.
1881.
CONTENTS
I. On Freedom
II. On The Philosophy Of Mythology.
III. On False Analogies In Comparative Theology.
IV. On Spelling.
V. On Sanskrit Texts Discovered In Japan.
Index.
Footnotes
I.
ON FREEDOM.
Presidential Address Delivered Before The Birmingham Midland Institute,
October 20, 1879.
Not more than twenty years have passed since John Stuart Mill sent forth
his plea for Liberty.(1)
If there is one among the leaders of thought in England who, by the
elevation of his character and the calm composure of his mind, deserved
the so often misplaced title of Serene Highness, it was, I think, John
Stuart Mill.
But in his Essay "On Liberty," Mill for once becomes passionate. In
presenting his Bill of Rights, in stepping forward as the champion of
individual liberty, he seems to be possessed by a new spirit. He speaks
like a martyr, or the defender of martyrs. The individual human soul, with
its unfathomable endowments, and its capacity of growing to something
undreamt of in our philosophy, becomes in his eyes a sacred thing, and
every encroachment on its world-wide domain is treated as sacrilege.
Society, the arch-enemy of the rights of individuality, is represented
like an evil spirit, whom it behooves every true man to resist with might
and main, and whose demands, as they cannot be altogether ignored, must be
reduced at all hazards to the lowest level.
I doubt whether any of the principles for which Mill pleaded so warmly and
strenuously in his Essay "On Liberty" would at the present day be
challenged or resisted, even by the most illiberal of philosophers, or the
most conservative of politicians. Mill's demands sound very humble to
_our_ ears. They amount to no more than this, "that the individual is not
accountable to society for his actions so far as they concern the
interests of no person but himself, and that he may be subjected to social
or legal punishments for such actions only as are prejudicial to the
interests of others."
Is there any one here present who doubts the justice of that principle, or
who would wish to reduce the freedom of the individual to a smaller
measure? Whatever social tyranny may have existed twenty years ago, when
it wrung that fiery protest from the lips of John Stuart Mill, can we
imagine a state of society, not totally Utopian, in which the individual
man need be less ashamed of his social fetters, in which he could more
freely utter all his honest convictions, more boldly propound all his
theories, more fearlessly agitate for their speedy realization; in which,
in fact, each man can be so entirely himself as the society of England,
such as it now is, such as generations of hard-thinking and hard-working
Englishmen have made it, and left it as the most sacred inheritance to
their sons and daughters?
Look through the whole of history, not excepting the brightest days of
republican freedom at Athens and Rome, and you will not find one single
period in which the measure of liberty accorded to each individual was
larger than it is at present, at least in England. And if you wish to
realize the full blessings of the time in which we live, compare Mill's
plea for Liberty with another written not much more than two hundred years
ago, and by a thinker not inferior either in power or boldness to Mill
himself. According to Hobbes, the only freedom which an individual in his
ideal state has a right to claim is what he calls "freedom of thought,"
and that freedom of thought consists in our being able to think what we
like--so long as we keep it to ourselves. Surely, such freedom of thought
existed even in the days of the Inquisition, and we should never call
thought free, if it had to be kept a prisoner in solitary and silent
confinement. By freedom of thought we mean freedom of speech, freedom of
the press, freedom of action, whether individual or associated, and of
that freedom the present generation, as compared with all former
generations, the English nation, as compared with all other nations,
enjoys, there can be no doubt, a good measure, pressed down, and shaken
together, and sometimes running over.
It may be said that some dogmas still remain in politics, in religion, and
in morality; but those who defend them claim no longer any infallibility,
and those who attack them, however small their minority, need fear no
violence, nay, may reckon on an impartial and even sympathetic hearing, as
soon as people discover in their pleadings the true ring of honest
conviction and the warmth inspired by an unselfish love of truth.
It has seemed strange, therefore, to many readers of Mill, particularly on
the Continent, that this plea for liberty, this demand for freedom for
every individual to be what he is, and to develop all the germs of his
nature, should have come from what is known as the freest of all
countries, England. We might well understand such a cry of indignation if
it had reached us from Russia; but why should English philosophers, of all
others, have to protest against the tyranny of society? It is true,
nevertheless, that in countries governed despotically, the individual,
unless he is obnoxious to the Government, enjoys far greater freedom, or
rather license, than in a country like England, which governs itself.
Russian society, for instance, is extremely indulgent. It tolerates in its
rulers and statesmen a haughty defiance of the simplest rules of social
propriety, and it seems amused rather than astonished or indignant at the
vagaries, the frenzies, and outrages of those who in brilliant
drawing-rooms or lecture-rooms preach the doctrines of what is called
Nihilism or Individualism,(2)--viz., "that society must be regenerated by a
struggle for existence and the survival of the strongest, processes which
Nature has sanctioned, and which have proved successful among wild
animals." If there is danger in these doctrines the Government is expected
to see to it. It may place watchmen at the doors of every house and at the
corner of every street, but it must not count on the better classes coming
forward to enrol themselves as special constables, or even on the
cooeperation of public opinion which in England would annihilate that kind
of Nihilism with one glance of scorn and pity.
In a self-governed country like England, the resistance which society, if
it likes, can oppose to the individual in the assertion of his rights, is
far more compact and powerful than in Russia, or even in Germany. Even
where it does not employ the arm of the law, society knows how to use that
quieter, but more crushing pressure, that calm, Gorgon-like look which
only the bravest and stoutest hearts know how to resist.
It is against that indirect repression which a well-organized society
exercises, both through its male and female representatives, that Mill's
demand for liberty seems directed. He does not stand up for unlimited
individualism; on the contrary, he would have been the most strenuous
defender of that balance of power between the weak and the strong on which
all social life depends. But he resents those smaller penalties which
society will always inflict on those who disturb its dignified peace and
comfort:--avoidance, exclusion, a cold look, a stinging remark. Had Mill
any right to complain of these social penalties? Would it not rather
amount to an interference with individual liberty to deprive any
individual or any number of individuals of those weapons of self-defence?
Those who themselves think and speak freely, have hardly a right to
complain, if others claim the same privilege. Mill himself called the
Conservative party the stupid party _par excellence_, and he took great
pains to explain that it was so not by accident, but by necessity. Need he
wonder if those whom he whipped and scourged used their own whips and
scourges against so merciless a critic?
Freethinkers--and I use that name as a title of honor for all who, like
Mill, claim for every individual the fullest freedom in thought, word, or
deed, compatible with the freedom of others--are apt to make one mistake.
Conscious of their own honest intentions, they cannot bear to be misjudged
or slighted. They expect society to submit to their often very painful
operations as a patient submits to the knife of the surgeon. This is not
in human nature. The enemy of abuses is always abused by his enemies.
Society will never yield one inch without resistance, and few reformers
live long enough to receive the thanks of those whom they have reformed.
Mill's unsolicited election to Parliament was a triumph not often shared
by social reformers; it was as exceptional as Bright's admission to a seat
in the Cabinet, or Stanley's appointment as Dean of Westminster. Such
anomalies will happen in a country fortunately so full of anomalies as
England; but, as a rule, a political reformer must not be angry if he
passes through life without the title of Right Honorable; nor should a
man, if he will always speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but
the truth, be disappointed if he dies a martyr rather than a Bishop.
But even granting that in Mill's time there existed some traces of social
tyranny, where are they now? Look at the newspapers and the journals. Is
there any theory too wild, any reform too violent, to be openly defended?
Look at the drawing-rooms or the meetings of learned societies. Are not
the most eccentric talkers the spoiled children of the fashionable world?
When young lords begin to discuss the propriety of limiting the rights of
inheritance, and young tutors are not afraid to propose curtailing the
long vacation, surely we need not complain of the intolerance of English
society.
Whenever I state these facts to my German and French and Italian friends,
who from reading Mill's Essay "On Liberty" have derived the impression
that, however large an amount of political liberty England may enjoy, it
enjoys but little of intellectual freedom, they are generally willing to
be converted so far as London, or other great cities are concerned. But
look at your Universities, they say, the nurseries of English thought!
Compare their mediaeval spirit, their monastic institutions, their
scholastic philosophy, with the freshness and freedom of the Continental
Universities! Strong as these prejudices about Oxford and Cambridge have
long been, they have become still more intense since Professor Helmholtz,
in an inaugural address which he delivered at his installation as Rector
of the University of Berlin, lent to them the authority of his great name.
"The tutors," he says,(3) "in the English Universities cannot deviate by a
hair's-breadth from the dogmatic system of the English Church, without
exposing themselves to the censure of their Archbishops and losing their
pupils." In German Universities, on the contrary, we are told that the
extreme conclusions of materialistic metaphysics, the boldest speculations
within the sphere of Darwin's theory of evolution, may be propounded
without let or hindrance, quite as much as the highest apotheosis of Papal
infallibility.
Here the facts on which Professor Helmholtz relies are entirely wrong, and
the writings of some of our most eminent tutors supply a more than
sufficient refutation of his statements. Archbishops have no official
position whatsoever in English Universities, and their censure of an
Oxford tutor would be resented as impertinent by the whole University. Nor
does the University, as such, exercise any very strict control over the
tutors, even when they lecture not to their own College only. Each Master
of Arts at Oxford claims now the right to lecture (_venia docendi_), and I
doubt whether they would submit to those restrictions which, in Germany,
the Faculty imposes on every _Privat-docent_. _Privat-docents_ in German
Universities have been rejected by the Faculty for incompetence, and
silenced for insubordination. I know of no such cases at Oxford during my
residence of more than thirty years, nor can I think it likely that they
should ever occur.
As to the extreme conclusions of materialistic metaphysics, there are
Oxford tutors who have grappled with the systems of such giants as Hobbes,
Locke, or Hume, and who are not likely to be frightened by Buechner and
Vogt.
I know comparisons are odious, and I should be the last man to draw
comparisons between English and German Universities unfavorable to the
latter. But with regard to freedom of thought, of speech, and action,
Professor Helmholtz, if he would spend but a few weeks at Oxford, would
find that we enjoy it in fuller measure here than the Professors and
_Privat-docents_ in any Continental University. The publications of some
of our professors and tutors ought at least to have convinced him that if
there is less of brave words and turbulent talk in their writings, they
display throughout a determination to speak the truth, which may be
matched, but could not easily be excelled, by the leaders of thought in
France, Germany, or Italy.
The real difference between English and Continental Universities is that
the former govern themselves, the latter are governed. Self-government
entails responsibilities, sometimes restraints and reticences. I may here
be allowed to quote the words of another eminent Professor of the
University of Berlin, Du Bois Reymond, who, in addressing his colleagues,
ventured to tell them,(4) "We have still to learn from the English how the
greatest independence of the individual is compatible with willing
submission to salutary, though irksome, statutes." That is particularly
true when the statutes are self-imposed. In Germany, as Professor
Helmholtz tells us himself, the last decision in almost all the more
important affairs of the Universities rests with the Government, and he
does not deny that in times of political and ecclesiastical tension, a
most ill-advised use has been made of that power. There are, besides, the
less important matters, such as raising of salaries, leave of absence,
scientific missions, even titles and decorations, all of which enable a
clever Minister of Instruction to assert his personal influence among the
less independent members of the University. In Oxford the University does
not know the Ministry, nor the Ministry the University. The acts of the
Government, be it Liberal or Conservative, are freely discussed, and often
powerfully resisted by the academic constituencies, and the personal
dislike of a Minister or Ministerial Councillor could as little injure a
professor or tutor as his favor could add one penny to his salary.
But these are minor matters. What gives their own peculiar character to
the English Universities is a sense of power and responsibility: power,
because they are the most respected among the numerous corporations in the
country; responsibility, because the higher education of the whole country
has been committed to their charge. Their only master is public opinion as
represented in Parliament, their only incentive their own sense of duty.
There is no country in Europe where Universities hold so exalted a
position, and where those who have the honour to belong to them may say
with greater truth _Noblesse oblige_.
I know the dangers of self-government, particularly where higher and more
ideal interests are concerned, and there are probably few who wish for a
real reform in schools and Universities who have not occasionally yielded
to the desire for a Dictator, of a Bismarck or a Falk. But such a desire
springs only from a momentary weakness and despondency; and no one who
knows the difference between being governed and governing one's self,
would ever wish to descend from that higher though dangerous position to a
lower one, however safe and comfortable it might seem. No one who has
tasted the old wine of freedom would ever really wish to exchange it for
the new wine of external rule. Public opinion is sometimes a hard master,
and majorities can be great tyrants to those who want to be honest to
their own convictions. But in the struggle of all against all, each
individual feels that he has his rightful place, and that he may exercise
his rightful influence. If he is beaten, he is beaten in fair fight; if he
conquers, he has no one else to thank. No doubt, despotic Governments have
often exercised the most beneficial patronage in encouraging and rewarding
poets, artists, and men of science. But men of genius who have conquered
the love and admiration of a whole nation are greater than those who have
gained the favor of the most brilliant Courts; and we know how some of the
fairest reputations have been wrecked on the patronage which they had to
accept at the hands of powerful Ministers or ambitious Sovereigns.
But to return to Mill and his plea for Liberty. Though I can hardly
believe that, were he still among us, he would claim a larger measure of
freedom for the individual than is now accorded to every one of us in the
society in which we move, yet the chief cause on which he founded his plea
for Liberty, the chief evil which he thought could be remedied only if
society would allow more elbow-room to individual genius, exists in the
same degree as in his time--aye, even in a higher degree. The principle of
individuality has suffered more at present than perhaps at any former
period of history. The world is becoming more and more gregarious, and
what the French call our _nature moutonniere_, our tendency to leap where
the sheep in front of us has leapt, becomes more and more prevalent in
politics, in religion, in art, and even in science. M. de Tocqueville
expressed his surprise how much more Frenchmen of the present day resemble
one another than did those of the last generation. The same remark, adds
John Stuart Mill, might be made of England in a greater degree. "The
modern _regime_ of public opinion," he writes, "is in an unorganized form
what the Chinese educational and political systems are in an organized;
and unless individuality shall be able successfully to assert itself
against this yoke, Europe, | 148.277629 | 602 |
2023-11-16 18:18:15.6109630 | 328 | 18 |
Produced by Chris Curnow, Joseph Cooper, Michael Zeug,
Lisa Reigel, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
at http://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's Notes: Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been
left as in the original. No typographical corrections have been made.
Words in italics in the original are surrounded by _underscores_. Words
in bold in the original are surrounded by =equal signs=. The words
"manoeuvres," "phoebe", and "phoebes" use an oe ligature in the
original.
+--------------------------------------------------------------+
| Books by Mr. Torrey. |
| |
| |
| BIRDS IN THE BUSH. 16mo, $1.25. |
| A RAMBLER'S LEASE. 16mo, $1.25. |
| |
| |
| HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. |
| BOSTON AND NEW YORK. |
| |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+
A RAMBLER'S LEASE
BY
BRADFORD TORREY
I have known many laboring men that have got good estates in
this valley.--BUNYAN
Sunbeams, shadows, butterflies, and birds.--WORDSWORTH
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
The Riverside Press, Cambridge
| 148.930373 | 603 |
2023-11-16 18:18:15.6596320 | 8 | 122 | The Project Gutenberg Etext of My | 148.979042 | 604 |
2023-11-16 18:18:15.8266310 | 1,313 | 156 |
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
| 149.146041 | 605 |
2023-11-16 18:18:15.8930490 | 2,278 | 45 |
Produced by Richard Tonsing, readbueno and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
SQUIB AND HIS FRIENDS.
[Illustration:
“_Squib flung himself upon the dog, and threw his arms about his
neck._”
Page 17.
]
SQUIB AND HIS FRIENDS ❧ BY E. EVERETT-GREEN
LONDON, EDINBURGH,
AND NEW YORK
THOMAS NELSON
AND SONS
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS.
I. “THE ODD ONE,” 9
II. GOING AWAY, 28
III. THE CHALET IN THE HILLS, 47
IV. THE LITTLE GOAT-HERD, 65
V. COMRADES, 84
VI. HERR ADLER, 102
VII. HAPPY HOURS, 124
VIII. A WONDERFUL WALK, 148
IX. A STORY AND A FAREWELL, 175
X. A MOUNTAIN STORM, 204
XI. PLANS AND PROJECTS, 221
XII. FAREWELLS, 238
XIII. GOING HOME, 256
XIV. CONCLUSION, 272
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
“SQUIB FLUNG HIMSELF UPON THE DOG, AND THREW HIS ARMS _Frontispiece_.
ABOUT HIS NECK,”
“SQUIB LISTENED WITH A STRANGE SENSE OF FASCINATION,” 68
“BREATHLESSLY ONE BOY WORKED AND THE OTHER WATCHED,” 94
“DOWN, DOWN, DOWN—WITH A CRASH, AND A BANG, AND A 169
ROAR!”
“SEPPI DREW SQUIB’S HAND DOWN UPON THE HEAD OF MOOR,” 254
“SQUIB’S BROTHERS AND SISTERS REJOICED OVER THE PRETTY 283
GIFTS HE HAD BROUGHT THEM,”
SQUIB AND HIS FRIENDS.
CHAPTER I.
“THE ODD ONE.”
That was the name Squib went by in the nursery and in the household—“the
odd one.” Not exactly because of any personal peculiarities—although he
had a few of these—but because he had no especial brother or sister
belonging to him, and seemed to stand alone, whilst all the others could
be paired off together.
Norman and Frank were big boys, away at school most of the year, near to
each other in age, and always together in the holidays. Philippa and
Molly came next, and were girls, devoted to each other and to their
family of dolls, and even more devoted to the live dolls in the
nursery—the little twin sisters, Hilda and Hulda, whom nobody knew apart
save themselves and the nurse. But Squib had no brother or sister to be
bracketed with him. The baby who came next in age to him had died in
infancy, and was only a dim memory to the brother just above him in age.
So he had always been, as it were, “the odd one” of the family, although
his sisters were very fond of him, and never refused him a share in
their games when he wanted to join in them.
But Squib did not care for dolls, and his tastes lay amongst things
beyond the walls of nursery or schoolroom. He wanted always to be out of
doors when not busy with his lessons for Mademoiselle (for so far he had
not gone to school, but had been taught with his sisters in the
schoolroom); and his pursuits were not of a kind to be attractive to the
dainty little ladies, Philippa and Molly, or to find favour in the eyes
of nurse, who reigned supreme over Hilda and Hulda. So Squib got into
the way of amusing himself in his own fashion, and took his name of “the
odd one” with great equanimity.
Squib was not his real name, as I suppose I need hardly say; it was a
nickname given him by his father some years before my story begins, and
it had stuck to him ever since. His real name was Sydenham, and he had
been called Syd for a time, till Colonel Rutland had hit upon this other
appellation.
And the reason for this was a habit of Squib’s which amused his father a
good deal. The child had a way of sitting perfectly still and silent for
a very long time in the room, not speaking, even when spoken to, until
some exhaustive mental process had taken place, after which he would
suddenly “go off,” as his father expressed it, and talk rapidly and
eagerly for several minutes straight on end; then having thus relieved
his mind and delivered himself of his thoughts, he would relapse into
dead silence until ready for the next explosion. And so his father
called him “Squib;” and Squib he became in time to the whole household.
It was commonly whispered about the place that Squib was the Colonel’s
favourite amongst his children. Colonel Rutland was not a man who had
taken a great deal of notice of his sons and daughters as they appeared
upon the scene. He was a busy man, having a large estate to order, being
a magistrate, churchwarden, and guardian of the poor-law, and having
social duties to attend to as well. He was a most devoted husband; and
people used to say that never was there a happier couple than he and
Lady Mary, his beautiful wife. He was proud of his fine young family in
the aggregate, but did not notice the children very much individually,
until one or two small incidents brought Squib before his eyes.
The first of these was a severe altercation which he chanced to overhear
between the child and his nurse when Squib was five years old. He was
walking through the shrubberies one morning when the sound of raised
voices attracted his attention, the first being that of a child lifted
in indignant protest.
“It’s not a lie. I never tell lies! I _did_ hear father sing it his own
self!”
“Master Syd, that’s not true. Your father never would sing such a wicked
song. It only makes it worse, telling stories about it!”
“It isn’t a story!—it isn’t, I tell you! I heard him my own self, and
lots of other people heard him, too. It’s you who are wicked, saying I
tell lies and father sings wicked songs!” and the crunch of the gravel
betrayed the fact that Squib had brought his small foot heavily down
upon it in a stamp of passionate wrath.
Colonel Rutland turned a corner and came full upon the combatants. The
nurse—a most excellent and trustworthy woman, who had been for twelve
years with them—was looking very grieved and disturbed as she held Squib
by the hand, as if with the intention of taking him at once before some
domestic tribunal; whilst the child’s square, determined face was
flushed a deep crimson, his dark-grey eyes looked almost black, as they
had a way of doing in moments of passion and excitement, and his whole
frame was quivering with anger and protest as he reiterated his
assertion that he was speaking nothing but the truth.
“What is all this?” asked Colonel Rutland in a deep voice. “Squib, what
do you mean by resisting your nurse like that? I will have no
insubordination to authority in my house—you know that as well as I do.”
For Colonel Rutland, with his military training, was a martinet in his
house about discipline, and his children knew perfectly that he would be
more severe over an act of disobedience than over any other kind of
transgression.
Squib and the nurse both started at the sound of the Colonel’s voice,
and nurse dropped the hand she was holding and made a respectful
courtesy to her master. Squib stood perfectly silent, after his fashion,
for a full minute, and then burst into rapid speech,—
“I wasn’t resisting her, father. She told me I was telling lies—and I’m
not. You did sing it. I heard you; and it isn’t wicked—and she didn’t
ought to say it was. I don’t tell lies. I never did. It isn’t lies—it’s
only about them!”
The Colonel held up his hand to command silence.
“What does all this mean?” he asked, turning to nurse.
“If you please, sir, I heard Master Syd singing something that didn’t
sound right for a young gentleman, and when I told him I wouldn’t have
wicked words sung, he turned and said that he’d heard you sing them,
which I was quite sure was not true, and I told him so. And then he went
off into one of his tantrums—which I hoped he was learning to get better
of—and that’s all I know about it. But I am quite sure he is not
speaking the truth.”
“Leave him to me and I will get at the rights of the matter,” said the
Colonel; and nurse, who had an ailing baby indoors (Squib’s little
brother who shortly afterwards died), was glad to go in to see after
him, leaving Squib and his father to settle things together about the
song.
“Now, Squib,” said Colonel Rutland, with grave severity of manner, “let
me hear the whole truth of this from you. What is it you were singing?
Don’t be afraid to speak the truth.”
“I’m not afraid a bit!” cried Squib, after his habitual pause. “I’ll
sing it to you now. _You’ll_ know it—it’s your own song,” and taking a
deep breath and swelling himself out in unconscious imitation of a
singer about to commence his song, the child broke out with the
following words, sung in a deep voice as like that of a man as he could
achieve—
“Fi-ive del dies—
The father of lies!”
And then suddenly breaking off he looked up at his father and cried,—
“You know you did sing it yourself, father—so it can’t be wicked!”
The Colonel was puzzled. There was something in the | 149.212459 | 606 |
2023-11-16 18:18:15.9430870 | 1,129 | 414 |
Produced by StevenGibbs and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
THE BRONTE FAMILY
WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO
PATRICK BRANWELL BRONTE
VOL. I.
BY
FRANCIS A. LEYLAND.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS,
13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
1886.
_All rights reserved._
PREFACE.
It has long seemed to me that the history of the Bronte family is
incomplete, and, in some senses, not well understood. Those who have
written upon it--as I shall have occasion to point out in these
pages--have had certain objects in view, which have, perhaps
necessarily, led them to give undue weight to special points and to
overlook others. Thus it happens that, though there are in the hands of
the public several able works on the Brontes, there are many
circumstances relating to them that are yet in comparative obscurity.
Especially has injustice been done to one member of the family--Patrick
Branwell Bronte--whose life has several times been treated by those who
have had some other object in view; and, through a misunderstanding of
the character of the brother, the sisters, Anne in particular, have
been put, in some respects, in a false light also. This circumstance,
coupled with the fact that I am in possession of much new information,
and am able to print here a considerable quantity of unknown poetry
from Branwell's hand, has induced me to write this work. Those of his
poems which are included in these volumes are placed in dealing with
the periods of his life in which they were written, for I felt that,
however great might be the advantages of putting them together in a
complete form, much more would be lost both to the interest of the
poems and the life of their author in doing so. Branwell's poems, more,
perhaps, than those of any other writer, are so clearly expressive of
his feelings at the time of their writing, that a correct view of his
character is only to be obtained by looking upon them as parts of his
life-history, which indeed they are. And, moreover, when we consider
the circumstances under which any of these were written, our
understanding and appreciation of the subject must necessarily be much
fuller and truer. It has not escaped the attention of writers on the
Bronte story that Branwell had an important influence on his sisters;
and, though I maintain it to have been essentially different from what
others allege, it would not be possible to do justice either to him or
to them without saying a good deal about his character.
I have felt it right, in these pages, to some extent also, to
re-consider the character of the Rev. Patrick Bronte, which has, along
with that of his son, suffered unfair treatment in the biographies of
his daughters. I have likewise entered upon some account of the local
circumstances of art and literature which surrounded the Brontes, an
element in their history which has hitherto been unknown, but is
especially necessary to a right understanding of the life and work of
Branwell Bronte and his sisters. These circumstances, and the altered
view I have taken of the tone of the lives of Mr. Bronte and his son,
have obliged me to deal more fully than would otherwise have been
necessary with the early years of the Brontes, but I venture to hope
that this may be atoned for by the new light I have thus been enabled
to throw on some important points. There are published here, for the
first time, a series of letters which Branwell Bronte addressed to an
intimate friend, J. B. Leyland, sculptor, who died in 1851, and it is
with these that a fresh insight is obtained into an interesting period
of Branwell's life.
I am largely indebted in some parts of my work, especially those which
deal with the lives of the sisters, to Mrs. Gaskell's fascinating 'Life
of Charlotte Bronte'; and it is a source of sincere regret to me that I
am compelled to differ from that writer on many points. I am likewise
indebted in parts to Mr. T. Wemyss Reid's admirable 'Charlotte Bronte:
a Monograph,' a work which has corrected several errors and
misconceptions into which Mrs. Gaskell had fallen. The reader will
perceive that I am obliged in several places to combat the theories and
question the statements of Miss A. Mary F. Robinson in her 'Emily
Bronte,' a book which, nevertheless, so far as its special subject is
concerned, is a worthy contribution to the history of the Brontes.
I have also found of much use, in writing this work, an article
entitled 'Branwell Bronte,' which Mr. George Searle Phillips--'January
Searle'--published in the 'Mirror' in 1872. The chapter in Mr. Francis
H. Grundy's 'Pictures of the Past' on Branwell Bronte, has likewise
been of the greatest service to me. | 149.262497 | 607 |
2023-11-16 18:18:15.9531420 | 405 | 110 |
Produced by Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from scans of public domain works at The National
Library of Australia.)
+-------------------------------------------------+
|Transcriber's note: |
| |
|Superscript characters are prefixed with |
|the 'carat' sign ^. |
| |
+-------------------------------------------------+
CAPTAIN COOK IN
NEW SOUTH WALES
OR
THE MYSTERY OF NAMING
BOTANY BAY
BY
JAMES BONWICK, F.R.G.S.
AUTHOR OF "GEOGRAPHY OF AUSTRALIA," "LAST OF THE TASMANIANS,"
ETC., ETC.
SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON AND CO., LTD.
ST. DUNSTAN'S HOUSE, FETTER LANE
1901
RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BUNGAY.
CAPTAIN COOK IN NEW SOUTH WALES
This being the age of criticism, and not the time of taking for granted
as a fact whatever one had heard from book or speech, an investigation
of the story of Cook's Discovery of New South Wales may neither be
unwelcome nor unexpected.
The story must have been deemed of consequence, when the Admiralty was
willing to pay Dr. Hawkesworth six thousand guineas, or pounds, as
reported, to write the account of that voyage in H.M.S. _Endeavour_.
Though even after its appearance some doubts were expressed as to its
propriety, or even veracity, yet some allowance was made for
professional jealousies, as well as for the paucity of information upon
Australian matters, and the want of means either to substantiate or
reject the assertions of the writer.
Objection was taken to the literary mode adopted. The author chose to | 149.272552 | 608 |
2023-11-16 18:18:16.0984070 | 393 | 105 |
Produced by KarenD, Joshua Hutchinson and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by Cornell University Digital Collections)
VOL. XXXII. No. 11.
THE
AMERICAN MISSIONARY.
* * * * *
“To the Poor the Gospel is Preached.”
* * * * *
NOVEMBER, 1878.
_CONTENTS_:
EDITORIAL.
THE ANNUAL MEETING 321
PARAGRAPHS 321, 322
MR. STANLEY’S INTEREST IN CHRISTIAN MISSIONS 322
THE INDIAN AGENTS WE NEED 325
“HAMPTON TRACTS.”—CONGREGATIONALISM IN THE SOUTH 327
SUNDRIES.—GENERAL NOTES 328
THE FREEDMEN.
ALABAMA—Florence: Rev. L. C. Anderson.—A
Memphis Letter.—A New Orleans Letter.—Scholarship
Letters 331–334
AFRICA.
THE MENDI MISSION: Rev. A. P. Miller 334
THE INDIANS.
FORT BERTHOLD, D. T.: Rev. C. L. HALL 337
LAKE SUPERIOR AGENCY: I. L. Mahan 339
RED LAKE AGENCY, MINN: C. P. Allen, M. D. 341
THE CHINESE.
CHINAPHOBIA: Dr. M. C. Briggs 342
THE CHILDREN’S PAGE 343
RECEIPTS 344
* | 149.417817 | 609 |
2023-11-16 18:18:16.4094860 | 167 | 187 |
Produced by Larry B. Harrison, 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 MAGIC HOUSE
THE MAGIC HOUSE
AND OTHER POEMS
BY
DUNCAN CAMPBELL SCOTT
[Illustration: colophon]
METHUEN AND CO.
18 BURY STREET, W.C.
LONDON
1893
Edinburgh: T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to Her Majesty
TO
MY MOTHER
CONTENTS
PAGE
A LITTLE SONG
The sunset in the rosy west, 1
THE HILL PATH | 149.728896 | 610 |
2023-11-16 18:18:16.4269720 | 1,040 | 456 | SCHOOL ***
Produced by Al Haines.
BOBBY BLAKE
at Rockledge School
_By_
FRANK A. WARNER
_Author of_
"BOBBY BLAKE AT BASS COVE"
"BOBBY BLAKE ON A CRUISE," Etc.
WHITMAN PUBLISHING CO.
RACINE, WISCONSIN
Copyright, MCMXV, by
BARSE & CO.
Printed in the United States of America
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. "The Overland Limited"
II. Apples and Applethwaite Plunkit
III. Fred in Trouble
IV. An Eventful Afternoon
V. The Tale of a Scarecrow
VI. A Fish Fry and a Startling Announcement
VII. Financial Affairs
VIII. The Peep-Show
IX. Off for Rockledge
X. New Surroundings
XI. Getting Acquainted
XII. In the Dormitory
XIII. The Poguey Fight
XIV. The Honor Medal
XV. Getting Into Step
XVI. Hot Potatoes
XVII. Lost at Sea
XVIII. The Bloody Corner
XIX. The Result
XX. On the Brink of War
XXI. Give and Take
XXII. What Bobby Said
XXIII. Good News Travels Slowly
XXIV. Red Hair Stands for More Than Temper
XXV. The Winner
BOBBY BLAKE AT ROCKLEDGE SCHOOL
CHAPTER I
"THE OVERLAND LIMITED"
A boy of about ten, with a freckled face and fiery red hair cropped
close to his head, came doubtfully up the side porch steps of the Blake
house in Clinton and peered through the screen door at Meena, the
Swedish girl.
Meena was tall and rawboned, with very red elbows usually well
displayed, and her straw- hair was bound in a tight "pug" on top
of her long, narrow head. Meena had sharp blue eyes and she could see
boys a great way off.
"Mis' Blake--she ban gone out," said Meena, before the red-haired boy
could speak. "You vant somet'ing? No?"
"I--I was looking for Bobby," said the visitor, stammeringly. He and
Mrs. Blake's Swedish girl were not on good terms.
"I guess he ban gone out, too," said Meena, who did not want to be
"bothered mit boys."
The boy looked as though he thought she was a bad guesser! Somewhere
inside the house he heard a muffled voice. It shouted:
"Whoo! whoo! whoo-whoo-who-o-o-o!"
The imitation of a steam whistle grew rapidly nearer. It seemed to be
descending from the roof of the house--and descending very swiftly.
Finally there came a decided bang--the landing of a pair of well-shod
feet on the rug--and the voice rang out:
"All out! All out for last stop! All out!"
"_That's_ Bobby," suggested the boy with the red hair, looking wistfully
into Meena's kitchen.
"Vell!" ejaculated the girl. "You go in by the dining-room door, I
guess. You not go to trapse through my clean kitchen. Vipe your feet,
boy!"
The boy did as he was bade, and opened the dining-room door. A steady
footstep was thumping overhead, rising into the upper regions of the
three-story house.
The red-haired youngster knew his way about this house just as well as
he knew his own. Only he tripped over a corner of the dining-room rug
and bumped into two chairs in the darkened living-room before he reached
the front hall.
This was wide and was lighted above by ground-glass oval windows on all
three flights of stairs. The mahogany balustrade was in a single smooth
spiral, broken by no ornament. It offered a tempting course from garret
to ground floor to any venturesome small boy.
"All aboard!" shouted the voice overhead.
"The Overland Limited," said the red-haired boy, grinning, and squinting
up the well.
"Ding-dong! ding-dong! All aboard for the Overland Limited! This way!
No stop between Denver and Chicago! All aboard!"
There was a scramble above and then the exhaust of the locomotive was
imitated in a thin, boyish treble:
"Sh-h! sh-h! sh-h! Choo! choo! choo! Ding-dong-ding! We're off--"
A figure | 149.746382 | 611 |
2023-11-16 18:18:16.6577870 | 1,113 | 399 |
Produced by Bruce Albrecht and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
THE WAY OF INITIATION
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
INITIATION AND ITS RESULTS
a sequel to the
"WAY OF INITIATION"
By
RUDOLF STEINER, Ph.D.
Translated from the German by Clifford Bax
CONTENTS
A FOREWORD
I. THE ASTRAL CENTERS (CHAKRAS)
II. THE CONSTITUTION OF THE ETHERIC BODY
III. DREAM LIFE
IV. THE THREE STATES OF CONSCIOUSNESS
V. THE DISSOCIATION OF HUMAN PERSONALITY DURING INITIATION
VI. THE FIRST GUARDIAN OF THE THRESHOLD
VII. THE SECOND GUARDIAN OF THE THRESHOLD
SELECTED LIST OF OCCULT WORKS
In same clear print and rich binding as this book
PRICE $1.00 PREPAID
THE WAY OF INITIATION
OR
HOW TO ATTAIN KNOWLEDGE OF THE HIGHER WORLDS
BY RUDOLF STEINER, Ph.D.
FROM THE GERMAN
BY
~MAX GYSI~
WITH SOME BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES OF THE AUTHOR BY
~EDOUARD SCHURE~
FIRST AMERICANIZED EDITION
MACOY PUBLISHING AND MASONIC SUPPLY CO.
NEW YORK, U.S.A.
Copyright 1910
BY
MACOY PUBLISHING
AND
MASONIC SUPPLY CO.
45-47-49 JOHN ST.
New York, U.S.A.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
The Personality of Rudolf Steiner and His Development 7
I. The Superphysical World and Its Gnosis 33
II. How to Attain Knowledge of the Higher Worlds 50
III. The Path of Discipleship 65
IV. Probation 81
V. Enlightenment 93
VI. Initiation 117
VII. The Higher Education of the Soul 135
VIII. The Conditions of Discipleship 149
List of Occult and Kindred Books 165
Transcriber's Note: Words printed in bold are noted with tildes;
~bold~. There is no corresponding anchor for footnote number 5.
TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.
(FOR THE ENGLISH EDITION.)
Being deeply interested in Dr. Steiner's work and teachings, and
desirous of sharing with my English-speaking friends the many
invaluable glimpses of Truth which are to be found therein, I decided
upon the translation of the present volume. It is due to the kind
co-operation of several friends who prefer to be anonymous that this
task has been accomplished, and I wish to express my hearty thanks for
the literary assistance rendered by them--also to thank Dr. Peipers of
Munich for permission to reproduce his excellent photograph of the
author.
The special value of this volume consists, I think, in the fact that
no advice is given and no statement made which is not based on the
personal experience of the author, who is, in the truest sense, both
a mystic and an occultist.
If the present volume should meet with a reception justifying a further
venture, we propose translating and issuing during the coming year a
further series of articles by Dr. Steiner in continuation of the same
subject, and a third volume will consist of the articles now appearing
in the pages of The Theosophist, entitled "The Education of Children."
MAX GYSI.
PUBLISHER'S NOTE.
While the pleasant German vernacular is still discernable in the text
of this work, we wish to state that it has been Americanized in
spelling, phraseology, and definition, to make plainer to the Western
mind the wonderful truths experienced by its distinguished author.
The readers, especially Occult, Theosophic, Masonic, and New Thought
students, we believe, will appreciate the clearness with which his
teachings lead to the simple rich Harmony of Life.
MACOY PUB. & MASONIC SUP. CO.
THE PERSONALITY OF RUDOLF STEINER AND HIS DEVELOPMENT
BY EDOUARD SCHURE[1]
Many of even the most cultivated men of our time have a very mistaken
idea of what is a true mystic and a true occultist. They know these two
forms of human mentality only by their imperfect or degenerate types,
of which recent times have afforded but too many examples. To the
intellectual man of the day, the mystic is a kind of fool and visionary
who takes his fancies for facts; the occultist is a dreamer or a
charlatan who abuses public credulity in order to boast of an imaginary
science and of pretended powers. Be it remarked, to begin with, that
this definition of mysticism, though deserved by some, would be as
unjust as erroneous if one sought to apply it to such personalities as
Joachim del Fiore of the thir | 149.977197 | 612 |
2023-11-16 18:18:16.6923320 | 1,042 | 411 |
Produced by Brian Coe, Harry Lamé 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’ Notes:
Text printed as blackletter, italics, underlined, or boldface have
been transcribed as ^text^, _text_, ~text~, and =text=, respectively.
Small capitals have been replaced by all capitals; ^{txt} represents
superscript text.
More Transcriber’s Notes and a list of changes made may be found at
the end of this document.
^The Daily Telegraph^
WAR BOOKS
THE FLEETS AT WAR
^The Daily Telegraph^
WAR BOOKS
CLOTH 1/- NET.
~VOL. I. (3rd Enormous Edition.)~
_HOW THE WAR BEGAN_
_By W. L. COURTNEY, LL.D., and J. M. KENNEDY_
Is Britain’s justification before the Bar of History.
~VOL. II.~
_THE FLEETS AT WAR_
_By ARCHIBALD HURD_,
The key book to the understanding of the NAVAL situation
~VOL. III.~
_THE CAMPAIGN OF SEDAN_
_By GEORGE HOOPER_
The key book to the MILITARY situation.
~VOL. IV.~
_THE CAMPAIGN ROUND
LIEGE_
¶ Describes in wonderful detail the heroic defence of Liege, and shows
how the gallant army of Belgium has upset and altered the whole plan
of advance as devised by the Kaiser and his War Council.
[Illustration: _Photo: Speaight, Ltd._
=ADMIRAL SIR JOHN JELLICOE.=
Supreme Admiral, British Home Fleet.]
THE FLEETS AT
WAR
BY
ARCHIBALD HURD
Author of “Command of the Sea,” “Naval Efficiency,” “German Sea Power:
Its Rise, Progress, and Economic Basis” (part author), etc.
HODDER AND STOUGHTON
LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO
MCMXIV
PREFACE
It is hoped that this volume will prove of permanent value as presenting
a conspectus of the great navies engaged in war when hostilities opened,
and in particular of the events of singular significance in the naval
contest between Great Britain and Germany which occurred in the years
immediately preceding the war.
Grateful acknowledgment is made to Mr. H. C. Bywater for valuable
assistance in preparing this volume.
A. H.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
INTRODUCTION--THE OPENING PHASE 9
I. THE RELATIVE STANDING OF THE BRITISH AND GERMAN FLEETS 49
II. THE BRITISH NAVY 54
III. THE GERMAN NAVY 101
IV. ADMIRAL JELLICOE 131
V. OFFICERS AND MEN OF THE BRITISH NAVY 137
VI. THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF OF THE GERMAN FLEET 141
VII. OFFICERS AND MEN OF THE FOREIGN NAVIES 147
VIII. GERMAN NAVAL BASES 151
IX. THE KIEL CANAL 161
X. THE GREAT FLEETS ENGAGED: TABULAR STATEMENT 168
[Illustration: Map of North Sea.]
INTRODUCTION
THE OPENING PHASE
PEACEFUL VICTORIES OF BRITISH SEA POWER
The declaration of war against Germany, followed as it was by similar
action against Austria-Hungary, was preceded by a sequence of events so
remarkable in their character that if any British writer had made any
such forecast in times of peace he would have been written down as a
romantic optimist.
Owing to a series of fortunate circumstances, the British Fleet--our
main line of defence and offence--was fully mobilised for war on the
morning before the day--August 4th at 11 p.m.--when war was declared by
this country, and we were enabled to enter upon the supreme contest in
our history with a sense of confidence which was communicated to all the
peoples of the British Empire. This feeling of assurance and courage
furnished the best possible augury for the future.
Within a fortnight of diplomatic relations being broken off with
Germany, and less than a week after Austria-Hungary by her acts had
declared her community of interest with her ally, the British Navy,
without firing a gun or sending a single torpedo hissing through the
| 150.011742 | 613 |
2023-11-16 18:18:16.7130670 | 1,180 | 414 |
Produced by Julia Miller 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
A number of typographical errors have been maintained in this version of
this book. They have been marked with a [TN-#], which refers to a
description in the complete list found at the end of the text.
Inconsistent spelling, hyphenation, and capitalization have been
maintained. A list of inconsistently spelled words is found at the end
of the text.
THE
BATTLE AND THE RUINS
OF CINTLA
BY
DANIEL G. BRINTON, M. D., LL. D., D. Sc.
PROFESSOR OF
AMERICAN ARCHAEOLOGY AND LINGUISTICS IN THE UNIVERSITY
OF PENNSYLVANIA
[REPRINTED FROM THE _AMERICAN ANTIQUARIAN_, SEPTEMBER, 1896]
CHICAGO
1896
THE BATTLE AND THE RUINS OF CINTLA.
BY DANIEL G. BRINTON, M. D.
The first battle on the American continent in which horses were used was
that of Cintla in Tabasco, March, 1519, the European troops being under
the leadership of Hernando Cortes.
This fact attaches something more than an ordinary historic interest to
the engagement, at least enough to make it desirable to ascertain its
precise locality and its proper name. Both of these are in doubt, as
well as the ethnic stock to which the native tribe belonged which
opposed the Spanish soldiery on the occasion. I propose to submit these
questions to a re-examination, and also to describe from unpublished
material the ruins which,--as I believe--, mark the spot of this first
important encounter of the two races on American soil.
The engagement itself has been described by all the historians of
Cortes' famous conquest of Mexico, as it was the first brilliant
incident of that adventure. We have at least four accounts of it from
participants. One prepared under the eye of Cortes himself, one by the
anonymous historian of his expedition, a third by Cortes'
companion-in-arms, the redoubtable Bernal Diaz del Castillo, and a
fourth by Andres de Tapia.[3-1]
The most satisfactory narrative, however, is given by the chaplain of
Cortes, Francisco de Gomara, and I shall briefly rehearse his story,
adding a few points from other contemporary writers.[3-2]
Cortes with his armada cast anchor at the mouth of the River Grijalva in
March, 1519. The current being strong and the bar shallow, he with about
eighty men proceeded in boats up the river for about two miles, when
they descried on the bank a large Indian village. It was surrounded with
a wooden palisade, having turrets and loopholes from which to hurl
stones and darts. The houses within were built of tiles laid in mortar,
or of sun-dried brick (adobes), and were roofed with straw or split
trees. The chief temple had spacious rooms, and its dependences
surrounded a court yard.
The interpreter Aguilar, a Spaniard who had lived with the Mayas in
Yucatan, could readily speak the tongue of the village, which was
therefore a Mayan dialect. The natives told him that the town was named
Potonchan, which Aguilar translated "the place that smells or stinks,"
an etymology probably correct in a general way.
The natives were distrustful, and opposed the landing of the Europeans
rather with words and gestures than with blows. Their warriors
approached Cortes in large boats, called in their tongue _tahucup_, and
refused him permission to land.
After some parleying, Cortes withdrew to an island in the river near by,
and as night drew on, he sent to the ships for reinforcements, and
despatched some of the troops to look for a ford from the island to the
mainland; which they easily found.
The next morning he landed some of his men by the boats, and attacked
the village on the water side, while another detachment crossed the ford
and making a circuit assaulted it in the rear. The Indians were
prepared, having sent their women and children away. They were in number
about four hundred, and made at first a brisk resistance, but being
surprised by the rear assault, soon fled in dismay. No Spaniard was
killed, though many were wounded.
Cortes established himself in the village and landed most of his troops
and ten out of his thirteen horses. When his men were rested and the
injured had had their wounds dressed with fat taken from dead
Indians[4-1] (!) he sent out three detachments on foot to reconnoitre.
After marching a distance which is not stated, but which could not have
been many miles, they came to an extensive plain covered with maize
fields, temples and houses. This was Cintla. There were many warriors
gathered there, and after a sharp skirmish the Spaniards fell back.
Having thus learned the ground, Cortes prepared for a decisive battle,
as also did the natives. The latter gathered at Cintla in five divisions
of eight thousand men each, as the chroniclers aver.
Cortes had about five hundred | 150.032477 | 614 |
2023-11-16 18:18:16.7445290 | 1,069 | 426 |
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)
Transcriber's Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected
without note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have
been retained as printed. Words printed in italics are noted with
underscores: _italics_.
The Story of a Confederate Boy in the Civil War
By
David E. Johnston
_of the 7th Virginia Infantry Regiment_
Author of "Middle New River Settlements"
With Introduction by
Rev. C. E. Cline, D.D.
A Methodist Minister and Chaplain of the
Military Order of the Loyal Legion, U.S.A.
COPYRIGHT, 1914
BY
DAVID E. JOHNSTON
PUBLISHED BY
GLASS & PRUDHOMME COMPANY
PORTLAND, OREGON
Preface
Some twenty-eight years ago I wrote and published a small book
recounting my personal experiences in the Civil War, but this book is
long out of print, and the publication exhausted. At the urgent request
of some of my old comrades who still survive, and of friends and my own
family, I have undertaken the task of rewriting and publishing this
story.
As stated in the preface to the former volume, the principal object of
this work is to record, largely from memory, and after the lapse of
many years (now nearly half a century) since the termination of the
war between the states of the Federal Union, the history, conduct,
character and deeds of the men who composed Company D, Seventh regiment
of Virginia infantry, and the part they bore in that memorable
conflict.
The chief motive which inspires this undertaking is to give some meager
idea of the Confederate soldier in the ranks, and of his individual
deeds of heroism, particularly of that patriotic, self-sacrificing,
brave company of men with whose fortunes and destiny my own were linked
for four long years of blood and carnage, and to whom during that
period I was bound by ties stronger than hooks of steel; whose
confidence and friendship I fully shared, and as fully reciprocated.
To the surviving members of that company, to the widows and children,
broken-hearted mothers, and to gray-haired, disconsolate fathers (if
such still live) of those who fell amidst the battle and beneath its
thunders, or perished from wounds or disease, this work is dedicated.
The character of the men who composed that company, and their deeds of
valor and heroism, will ever live, and in the hearts of our people will
be enshrined the names of the gallant dead as well as of the living, as
the champions of constitutional liberty. They will be held in grateful
remembrance by their own countrymen, appreciated and recognized by all
people of all lands, who admire brave deeds, true courage, and devotion
of American soldiers to cause and country.
For some of the dates and material I am indebted to comrades. I also
found considerable information from letters written by myself during
the war to a friend, not in the army, and not subject to military duty,
on account of sex; who, as I write, sits by me, having now (February,
1914), for a period of more than forty-six years been the sharer of my
joys, burdens and sorrows; whose only brother, George Daniel Pearis, a
boy of seventeen years, and a member of Bryan's Virginia battery, fell
mortally wounded in the battle of Cloyd's Farm, May 9, 1864.
DAVID E. JOHNSTON.
Portland, Oregon, May, 1914.
Introduction
The author of this book is my neighbor. He was a Confederate, and I a
Union soldier. Virginia born, he worked hard in youth. A country
lawyer, a member of the Senate of West Virginia, Representative in
Congress, and Circuit Judge, his life has been one of activity and
achievement. Blessed with a face and manner which disarm suspicion,
inspire confidence and good will, he makes new friends, and retains old
ones.
Judge Johnston (having through life practiced the virtues of a good
Baptist), is, therefore, morally sound to the core. He has succeeded,
not by luck or chance, but because of what he is. Withal, he has
cultivated the faculty for hard work; in fact, through life he has
liked nothing so well as hard work.
A vast good nature, running easily into jocular talk, with interesting
stories, in which he excels, he is able to meet every kind of man in
every rank of society, catching with unerring instinct the temper of
every individual and company where he is.
He is thoroughly American, and though having traveled extensively in
Europe and the East, he is not spoiled with aping foreigners, nor
"rattled" by their frivolous accomplishments. He is likewise an
experienced writer, being | 150.063939 | 615 |
2023-11-16 18:18:16.8681250 | 209 | 217 | SERIES)***
E-text prepared by Charles Aldarondo, Tam, Tom Allen, and the Project
Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
THE FAITH OF THE MILLIONS
A SELECTION OF PAST ESSAYS
SECOND SERIES
BY
GEORGE TYRRELL, S.J.
1901
"AND SEEING THE MULTITUDES HE WAS MOVED WITH
COMPASSION ON THEM, FOR THEY WERE HARASSED AND
SCATTERED AS SHEEP HAVING NO SHEPHERD."
(Matthew ix. 36.)
_Nil Obstat:_
J. GERARD, S.J.
CENS. THEOL. DEPUTATUS.
_Imprimatur:_
HERBERTUS CARD. VAUGHAN,
ARCHIEP. WESTMON.
CONTENTS
XIII.--Juliana of Norwich
XIV.--Poet and Mystic
XV.--Two Estimates of Catholic Life
XVI.--A Life of De Lamenn | 150.187535 | 616 |
2023-11-16 18:18:17.5731350 | 1,065 | 426 |
Produced by Barbara Tozier 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. |
+------------------------------------------------------------+
[Illustration: THOMAS W. LAWSON AFTER TWELVE MONTHS OF "FRENZIED
FINANCE"]
FRENZIED FINANCE
BY
THOMAS W. LAWSON
OF BOSTON
VOLUME I
THE CRIME OF AMALGAMATED
NEW YORK
THE RIDGWAY-THAYER COMPANY
1905
_Copyright, 1905, by_
THE RIDGWAY-THAYER COMPANY
_These articles are reprinted from "Everybody's Magazine"_
COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY THE RIDGWAY-THAYER COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1905, BY THE RIDGWAY-THAYER COMPANY
_All rights reserved_
TROW DIRECTORY
PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY
NEW YORK
TO
PENITENCE AND PUNISHMENT
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED
TO PENITENCE: that those whose deviltry is exposed within its pages may
see in a true light the wrongs they have wrought--and repent.
TO PUNISHMENT: that the unpenalized crimes of which it is the chronicle
may appear in such hideousness to the world as forever to disgrace their
perpetrators.
TO PENITENCE: that the transgressors, learning the error of their ways,
may reform.
TO PUNISHMENT: that the sins of the century crying to heaven for
vengeance may on earth be visited with condemnation stern enough to halt
greed at the kill.
TO PUNISHMENT: that public indignation may be so aroused against the
practices of high finance that it shall come to be as culpable to graft
and cozen within the law as it is lawless to-day to counterfeit and
steal.
TO PENITENCE: that in the minds of all who read this eventful history
there may grow up a knowledge and a conviction that the gaining of vast
wealth is not worth the sacrifice of manhood, and that poverty and
abstinence with honor are better worth having than millions and luxury
at the cost of candor and rectitude.
TO MY AUDIENCE
SAINTS, SINNERS, AND IN-BETWEENS
Before you enter the confines of "Frenzied Finance," here spread
out--for your inspection, at least; enlightenment, perhaps--halt one
brief moment. If the men and things to be encountered within are
real--did live or live now--you must deal with them one way. If these
embodiments are but figments of my mind and pen, you must regard them
from a different view-point. Therefore, before turning the page, it
behooves you to find for yourself an answer to the grave question:
Is it the truth that is dealt with here? In weighing the evidence
remember:
My profession is business. My writing is an incident. "Frenzied Finance"
was set down during the twenty-fifth and twenty-sixth hours of busy
days. I pass it up as the history of affairs of which I was a part. The
men who move within the book's pages are still on the turf. A period of
twelve years is covered. So far, eighteen instalments, in all some
400,000 words, have been published. The spigot is still running. I have
written from memory, necessarily. While it is true that fiction is
expressed in the same forms and phrases as truth, no man ever lived who
could shape 400,000 words into the kinds of pictures I have painted and
pass them off for aught but what they were. The character of my palette
made it mechanically impossible to shade or temper the pigments, for the
story was written in instalments, and circumstances were such that often
one month's issue was out to the public before the next instalment was
on paper. Considering all this, the consistency of the chronicle as it
stands is the best evidence of its truth. In submitting it to my readers
I desire to reiterate:
It _is_ truth--of the kind that carries its own bell and candle. Within
the narrative itself are the reagents required to test and prove its
genuineness. Were man endowed with the propensity of a Muenchhausen, the
cunning of a Machiavelli, the imagination of Scheherezade, the ability
of a Shakespeare, and the hellishness of his Satanic Majesty, he could
not play upon 400,000 words, or one-quarter that number, and make the
play peal truth for a single hour to the audience who will read this
book, or to one-thousand | 150.892545 | 617 |
2023-11-16 18:18:17.5771510 | 128 | 173 |
Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive) Last Edit of Project Info
The Old Willow-tree
and other stories by
CARL EWALD
Translated by A. Teixeira de Mattos
Drawings by Helen M. Jacobs & G. E. Lee
[Illustration]
Thornton Butterworth Limited
15 Bedford St Strand London. W. C. 2
_First published October, 1921._
_Copyright U.S.A., | 150.896561 | 618 |
2023-11-16 18:18:17.5874790 | 4,082 | 50 |
Produced by D Alexander and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
_SPECIAL EDITION_
WITH THE WORLD'S
GREAT TRAVELLERS
EDITED BY CHARLES MORRIS
AND OLIVER H. G. LEIGH
Vol. I
CHICAGO
UNION BOOK COMPANY
1901
COPYRIGHT 1896 AND 1897
BY
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
COPYRIGHT 1901
E. R. DUMONT
[Illustration: THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN
PAINTING BY SPADA]
CONTENTS.
SUBJECT. AUTHOR. PAGE
New Dependencies of the United States OLIVER H. G. LEIGH 9
Winter and Summer in New England HARRIET MARTINEAU 22
Niagara Falls and the Thousand Islands CHARLES MORRIS 31
From New York to Washington in 1866 HENRY LATHAM 39
The Natural Bridge and Tunnel of EDWARD A. POLLARD 49
Virginia
Plantation Life in War Times WILLIAM HOWARD RUSSELL 62
Among Florida Alligators S. C. CLARKE 74
In the Mammoth Cave THERESE YELVERTON 83
Down the Ohio and Mississippi THOMAS L. NICHOLS 94
From New Orleans to Red River FREDERICK LAW OLMSTED 104
Winter on the Prairies G. W. FEATHERSTONHAUGH 114
A Hunter's Christmas Dinner J. S. CAMPION 124
A Colorado "Round-Up" ALFRED TERRY BACON 133
Among the Cow-boys LOUIS C. BRADFORD 141
Hunting the Buffalo WASHINGTON IRVING 147
In the Country of the Sioux MERIWETHER LEWIS 157
The Great Falls of the Missouri WILLIAM CLARKE 168
Hunting Scenes in Canadian Woods B. A. WATSON 178
The Grand Falls of Labrador HENRY G. BRYANT 189
Life Among the Esquimaux WILLIAM EDWARD PARRY 200
Fugitives from the Arctic Seas ELISHA KENT KANE 210
Rescued from Death W. S. SCHLEY 220
The Muir Glacier SEPTIMA M. COLLIS 230
A Summer Trip to Alaska JAMES A. HARRISON 239
The Fort William Henry Massacre JONATHAN CARVER 249
The Gaucho and His Horse THOMAS J. HUTCHINSON 257
Valparaiso and Its Vicinity CHARLES DARWIN 265
An Escape from Captivity BENJAMIN F. BOURNE 274
List of Illustrations
VOLUME I
THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN _Frontispiece_
MORRO CASTLE, HAVANA 14
WASHINGTON ELM, CAMBRIDGE 28
NEW YORK AND THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE 42
ON THE COAST OF FLORIDA 78
SUNRISE FROM THE SUMMIT OF PIKE'S PEAK 134
A KANSAS CYCLONE 144
THE CATSKILLS--SUNRISE FROM SOUTH MOUNTAIN 180
PARLIAMENT HOUSES, OTTAWA 198
WINTER IN THE FAR NORTH 214
MUIR GLACIER, ALASKA 236
PREFACE.
Next to actual travel, the reading of first-class travel stories by men
and women of genius is the finest aid to the broadening of views and
enlargement of useful knowledge of men and the world's ways. It is the
highest form of intellectual recreation, with the advantage over
fiction-reading of satisfying the wholesome desire for facts. With all
our modern enthusiasm for long journeys and foreign travel, now so easy
of accomplishment, we see but very little of the great world. The fact
that ocean voyages are now called mere "trips" has not made us
over-familiar with even our own kinsfolk in our new dependencies.
Foreign peoples and lands are still strange to us. Tropic and Arctic
lands are as far apart in condition as ever; Europe differs from Asia,
America from Africa, as markedly as ever. Man still presents every grade
of development, from the lowest savagery to the highest civilization,
and our interest in the marvels of nature and art, the variety of plant
and animal life, and the widely varied habits and conditions, modes of
thought and action, of mankind, is in no danger of losing its zest.
These considerations have guided us in our endeavor to tell the story of
the world, alike of its familiar and unfamiliar localities, as displayed
in the narratives of those who have seen its every part. Special
interest attaches to the stories of those travellers who first gazed
upon the wonders and observed the inhabitants of previously unknown
lands, and whose descriptions are therefore those of discoverers.
One indisputable advantage belongs to this work over the average record
of travel: the reader is not tied down to the perusal of a one-man book.
He has the privilege of calling at pleasure upon any one of these
eminent travellers to recount his or her exploit, with the certainty of
finding they are all in their happiest vein and tell their best stories.
The adventures and discoveries here described are gathered from the four
quarters of the globe, and include the famous stories of men no longer
living, as well as those of present activity. Many of the articles were
formerly published in the exhaustive work entitled, "The World's Library
of Literature, History and Travel" [The J. B. Lippincott Co.,
Philadelphia].
For the rich variety and quality of our material we are indebted to
many travellers of note, and to the courtesy of numerous publishers
and authors. Among these it is desired to acknowledge particularly
indebtedness to the following publishers and works: To Harper and
Brothers, for selections from Stanley's "Through the Dark Continent," Du
Chaillu's "Equatorial Africa," Prime's "Tent-Life in the Holy Land,"
Orton's "The Andes and the Amazon," and Browne's "An American Family in
Germany." To Charles Scribner's Sons: Stanley's "In Darkest Africa,"
Field's "The Greek Islands," and Schley's "The Rescue of Greely." To G.
P. Putnam's Sons: De Amicis's "Holland and its People," Taylor's "Lands
of the Saracens," and Brace's "The New West." To Houghton, Mifflin and
Co.: Melville's "In the Lena Delta," and Hawthorne's "Our Old Home." To
Roberts Brothers: Hunt's "Bits of Travel at Home." To H. C. Coates and
Co.: Leonowen's "Life and Travel in India." Equal tribute is offered to
the authors who have courteously permitted the use of their material,
and in these acknowledgments we include Charles Morris, editor of the
above work, and Oliver H. G. Leigh, whose pen has won honors in various
fields, for their special contributions to this edition.
WITH THE WORLD'S
GREAT TRAVELLERS.
NEW DEPENDENCIES OF THE UNITED STATES.
OLIVER H. G LEIGH.
[The trend of events makes it certain that our geographical
knowledge is going to be enlarged by personal investigation.
The boom of Dewey's big guns sent us to our school-books with
mixed feelings as to the practical value of much of our alleged
learning. The world suddenly broadened as we gazed in surprise.
Hawaii invited itself into the circle of new relations. The
near West Indies and the remote Philippines craved peculiar
attentions. Whether moved by commercial zeal, official duty
or the profitable curiosity of pleasure or scientific
investigation, he is in the highest sense a patriotic
benefactor of his own country and the land he visits, who
devotes his energies to making Americans more intimately
acquainted with the communities now linked with the most
powerful of nations.]
The scope of holiday travel, or tours of profitable investigation, has
been widely extended by the new relationship between the United States
and Hawaii, now included in its possessions, and the former Spanish
islands over which it exercises a kindly protectorate. Through the usual
channels public sentiment is being formed upon the resources and
responsibilities of the new dependencies. Many will be attracted to
Cuba, Porto Rico, Hawaii, and even to the remote Philippines, by
considerations of a practical kind. No truer patriotic motive can
inspire the American traveller than the desire to develop the natural
resources, and, by consequence, the social welfare of a dependent
community Whether bent on business, pleasure, or official duty in the
service of the United States the prospective voyager, and the friends he
leaves behind him, will profit by these gatherings from the impressions
and experiences of former travellers.
The approach to Havana at daybreak overwhelms the senses with the
gorgeous beauties of the sky and landscape. Foul as the harbor may be
with city drainage it seems a silvery lake encircled with the charms of
Paradise and over-arched with indescribable glories of celestial forms
and hues and ever-changing witcheries wrought by the frolicsome sun in
his ecstasy of morning release. Strange that where nature most lavishes
her wealth of charms and favors, the listlessness of perverse man
responds in ungrateful contrasts rather than in harmonies. Havana
has the interest of age, with the drawbacks incident to hereditary
indifference to progressive change. As in all important cities there are
sharp contrasts in its quarters. With long avenues of stately mansions,
marble-like and colonnaded, and exquisitely designed courtyards, there
are unpaved thoroughfares with an open sewer in the mid-roadway, flanked
by tenement houses with a family in each room. Most of Havana's two
hundred thousand citizens live in one-story buildings, lacking
conveniences which the poorest American considers necessities. The older
streets are mere alleys, about twenty feet wide, of which the sidewalks
take up seven. Light and ample ventilation are obtained by grated
window-openings without frames or glass. The dwellings and public
buildings throughout Cuba are planned to give free passage to every
zephyr that wafts relief from the oppressive heat. This is not because
the thermometer mounts much higher than it does in the United States,
for it never touches the records of our great cities, where a hundred in
the shade is not unknown. From 80 to 50 degrees is the year's average,
and it is this steady continuance of warmth that tries strength and
temper.
In the better districts of Havana the driveways are twenty-three feet
and the sidewalks about ten feet wide. Politeness keeps native and
foreign men hopping up and down the foot deep curb to allow ladies a
fair share of elbow-room on the pavements. Your guest-chamber in a
well-to-do family residence has probably a window twenty by eight feet,
sashless, but with several lace curtains and shutters to suit the
weather. The walls are tinted with the Spaniard's eye for rich color
display, the massive furniture is solid carved old mahogany, and the
graceful mosquito curtains suggest experiences better left untold.
House-rent is high, owing to the heavy taxation, which will doubtless be
modified after American administration has put the city in a sanitary
condition. Flour used to cost the poorer classes from two to three times
its price in the United States.
Before we leave the capital for the interior we must note two or three
of the time-mellowed edifices, which give the flavor of old-world
mediaevalism to the island. The gloomy Morro Castle is familiar in the
chronicles of the war. It stands guard at the water-gate of the city,
a grim-visaged dungeon that echoes with the despairing groans of more
victims of cruel oppression than can ever be counted. A more cheerful
landmark is the old Cathedral, looking as if it dates further back than
1724, cooped up in its crowded quarter. Here rest the ashes of Columbus,
say the faithful, and they are probably right. He died in Spain May 20,
1506. In 1856, his bones were brought to San Domingo and from there were
transferred in January, 1796, to this Cathedral, where they rest in the
wall behind the bust and tablet to his memory. The elaborate monument
under the dome is a splendid work of art. Four life-size sculptured
ecclesiastics bear a sarcophagus on their shoulders. There is also a
supposed portrait bust on a mural tablet.
The Spanish element in the city is popularly said to be an exaggeration
of the old country quality. The Tacon theatre holds three thousand
people. Cafes and restaurants abound, and never lack customers. Some day
Havana may be transformed into a nearer Paris, with a larger American
colony than haunts the dearer city across the sea. Cuba has nearly
the same area as England. The Province of Havana has a population of
452,000, of whom 107,500 are black. Large tracts of the island have not
yet been explored. The long years of intermittent battling between
the Cubans and Spaniards have grievously hindered progress in all
directions. Nature is bountiful beyond belief, yet her overtures have
been scorned, partly because of native inertia, but mainly through dread
of loss. Both sides have been guilty of laying waste vast areas of
cultivated land, ruining its husbandmen, capitalists and laborers alike.
The millennium bids fair to come before long. Peace is restoring
confidence. The reign of justice will bring capital and labor back to
the soil and tempt American migration to the cities and towns, where
life can be lived so enjoyably by those who bring modern methods and
ideas to bear in the task of converting a man-made wilderness into an
alluring paradise. Not long ago an American bought seventy acres of
ground in Trinidad valley, which he cleared and planted at a cost of
$3,070 for the first year. The second year's cultivation cost $1,120. He
made it a banana orchard. At the end of the second year he had realized
$30,680 net profit by the sale of his crop of 54,000 bunches.
Havana has the cosmopolitan air. Clubs, cafes, and entertainments abound
and flourish. Its suburbs and nearby towns afford all the allurements
the modern city-man seeks in country life. The rural charms of Marianao
are unsurpassed in any land. Ornately simple architecture marks the
columned houses of its best street. Around it are the cosy cottages in
their luxuriant gardens, and beyond these the open country, a veritable
Eden of foliage, flowers and fruit. In one spot a famous old banyan tree
has thrown out its limbs, thrusting them deep into the soil till they
have sprouted and spread over a five-acre field.
As we traverse the garden landscape in any settled part of the island,
and in Porto Rico, we note the habits of the rustic native in his
interesting simplicity. Poor enough in all conscience, but wonderfully
contented with his crust of bread, his cigarette, the family pig,
bananas for the pickaninnies' staple fare, and the frequent sips of rum
which are to the West Indian laborer what beefsteak is to the American
toiler. He is by no means a drunkard, and if he lacks book-learning
he excels in some civic virtues of the homelier kind, and is not
extravagant in his tailor-bills. The children's costume is usually that
of Eve before the fall, and the apparel of a goodly family might be
bought for the price of a dude's red vest.
Cock-fighting is the favorite native sport. It is encountered at any
hour, anywhere. There are other sports, such as boar hunts, spearing
fish, not to mention that of killing tarantulas, sand-flies, land-crabs,
and the gentle crocodile. The thousand miles of steam railway in Cuba
are unevenly distributed. From Havana the trip through Pinar del Rio
gives an astounding revelation of the wealth of forest and soil and
mines. Devastated as so much of this country was during the long years
of dragging war, its charms of scenery and possibilities of development
will work its speedy salvation. A single acre of choice land has
produced $3,000 worth of tobacco.
Two crops of corn and two of strawberries grow each year, vegetables and
many fruits are superabundant, yet wheat and flour are imported, and
cotton, besides other important staples, can be successfully cultivated.
Journeying to the charming Isle of Pines, and then south and east
through Matanzas, Santa Clara, and Puerto Principe to Santiago, there is
the same invitation of Nature to come and enjoy all that makes earth
lovely. The island is dotted with towns large and small having much the
same characteristics as Havana. Her virgin forests have some of the
richest woods known to commerce. Her hills hold stores of iron, copper,
coal and other minerals. Her soil is ready to yield many-fold to
the courageous cultivator. When the swords have been turned into
plough-shares and the spears to pruning-hooks, there will come a new day
for the native Cuban. He will feel himself liberated from the hindering
rancors and jealousies, inevitable in the light of recent history, which
alone now stand between his beautiful island and the prosperity that
hovers, waiting his encouragement to alight. Then the traveller will
return with reports of Havana rejuvenated, her harbor dredged and
purified, her highways paved, homes made healthy and the whole island
lifted to the higher and happier plane that will give the Pearl of the
Antilles its rightful setting among the other gems of God's earth.
[Illustration: MORRO CASTLE, HAVANA]
Porto Rico, the "rich port," so named by Columbus, came gladly under the
American flag. Its population of about 900,000 has had a sorry time for
three hundred years. They have been steeped in spiritless poverty from
first to last, so used to the oppressor's yoke that ambition seems to
have been crushed. Yet their island is an earthly paradise, save for
its rain-storms and occasional droughts. It is rich in undeveloped
mineral deposits and splendid forests. Nature has helped to discourage
native effort by providing the means of sust | 150.906889 | 619 |
2023-11-16 18:18:17.5877230 | 1,037 | 415 |
Produced by Irma Spehar 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.)
WALT WHITMAN
_Yesterday & Today_
BY
HENRY EDUARD LEGLER
CHICAGO
BROTHERS OF THE BOOK
1916
COPYRIGHT 1916
BY THE
BROTHERS OF THE BOOK
The edition of this book consists of six hundred copies on this
Fabriano hand-made paper, and the type distributed.
This copy is Number 2
TO DR. MAX HENIUS
CONSISTENT HATER OF SHAMS
ARDENT LOVER OF ALL OUTDOORS
AND GENEROUS GIVER OF SELF
IN GENUINE FELLOWSHIP
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED
_Walt Whitman: Yesterday & Today_
I
On a day about mid-year in 1855, the conventional literary world was
startled into indecorous behavior by the unannounced appearance of a
thin quarto sheaf of poems, in form and in tone unlike anything of
precedent issue. It was called Leaves of Grass, and there were but
twelve poems in the volume. No author's name appeared upon the title
page, the separate poems bore no captions, there was no imprint of
publisher. A steel engraving of a man presumably between thirty and
forty years of age, coatless, shirt flaringly open at the neck, and a
copyright notice identifying Walter Whitman with the publication,
furnished the only clues. Uncouth in size, atrociously printed, and
shockingly frank in the language employed, the volume evoked such a
tirade of rancorous condemnation as perhaps bears no parallel in the
history of letters. From contemporary criticisms might be compiled an
Anthology of Anathema comparable to Wagner's Schimpf-Lexicon, or the
Dictionary of Abuse suggested by William Archer for Henrik Ibsen. Some
of the striking adjectives and phrases employed in print would include
the following, as applied either to the verses or their author:
The slop-bucket of Walt Whitman.
A belief in the preciousness of filth.
Entirely bestial.
Nastiness and animal insensibility to shame.
Noxious weeds.
Impious and obscene.
Disgusting burlesque.
Broken out of Bedlam.
Libidinousness and swell of self-applause.
Defilement.
Crazy outbreak of conceit and vulgarity.
Ithyphallic audacity.
Gross indecency.
Sunken sensualist.
Rotten garbage of licentious thoughts.
Roots like a pig.
Rowdy Knight Errant.
A poet whose indecencies stink in the nostrils.
Its liberty is the wildest license; its love the essence of
the lowest lust!
Priapus--worshipping obscenity.
Rant and rubbish.
Linguistic silliness.
Inhumanly insolent.
Apotheosis of Sweat.
Mouthings of a mountebank.
Venomously malignant.
Pretentious twaddle.
Degraded helot of literature.
His work, like a maniac's robe, bedizened with fluttering
tags of a thousand colors.
Roaming, like a drunken satyr, with inflamed blood, through
every field of lascivious thought.
Muck of abomination.
A few quotations from the press of this period will serve to indicate
the general tenor of comment:
"The book might pass for merely hectoring and ludicrous, if it were
not something a great deal more offensive," observed the Christian
Examiner (Boston, 1856). "It openly deifies the bodily organs, senses,
and appetites in terms that admit of no double sense. The author is
'one of the roughs, a Kosmos, disorderly, fleshly, sensual, divine
inside and out. The scent of these armpits an aroma finer than
prayer.' He leaves 'washes and razors for foofoos,' thinks the talk
about virtue and vice only 'blurt,' he being above and indifferent to
both of them. These quotations are made with cautious delicacy. We
pick our way as cleanly as we can between other passages which are
more detestable."
In columns of bantering comment, after parodying his style of
all-inclusiveness, the United States Review (1855) characterizes Walt
Whitman thus: "No skulker or tea-drinking poet is Walt Whitman. He
will bring poems to fill the days and nights--fit for men and women
with the attributes of throbbing blood and | 150.907133 | 620 |
2023-11-16 18:18:17.8359330 | 966 | 403 |
Produced by S Goodman, David Starner and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team
SONGS OF LABOR
AND OTHER POEMS BY
MORRIS ROSENFELD
_Translated from the Yiddish by
Rose Pastor Stokes and Helena Frank_
Contents
In the Factory
My Boy
The Nightingale to the Workman
What is the World?
Despair
Whither?
From Dawn to Dawn
The Candle Seller
The Pale Operator
The Beggar Family
A Millionaire
September Melodies
Depression
The Canary
Want and I
The Phantom Vessel
To my Misery
O Long the Way
To the Fortune Seeker
My Youth
In the Wilderness
I've Often Laughed
Again I Sing my Songs
Liberty
A Tree in the Ghetto
The Cemetery Nightingale
The Creation of Man
Journalism
Pen and Shears
For Hire
A Fellow Slave
The Jewish May
The Feast of Lights
Chanukah Thoughts
Sfere
Measuring the Graves
The First Bath of Ablution
Atonement Evening Prayer
Exit Holiday
SONGS OF LABOR AND OTHER POEMS
In the Factory
Oh, here in the shop the machines roar so wildly,
That oft, unaware that I am, or have been,
I sink and am lost in the terrible tumult;
And void is my soul... I am but a machine.
I work and I work and I work, never ceasing;
Create and create things from morning till e'en;
For what?--and for whom--Oh, I know not! Oh, ask not!
Who ever has heard of a conscious machine?
No, here is no feeling, no thought and no reason;
This life-crushing labor has ever supprest
The noblest and finest, the truest and richest,
The deepest, the highest and humanly best.
The seconds, the minutes, they pass out forever,
They vanish, swift fleeting like straws in a gale.
I drive the wheel madly as tho' to o'ertake them,--
Give chase without wisdom, or wit, or avail.
The clock in the workshop,--it rests not a moment;
It points on, and ticks on: Eternity--Time;
And once someone told me the clock had a meaning,--
Its pointing and ticking had reason and rhyme.
And this too he told me,--or had I been dreaming,--
The clock wakened life in one, forces unseen,
And something besides;... I forget what; Oh, ask not!
I know not, I know not, I am a machine.
At times, when I listen, I hear the clock plainly;--
The reason of old--the old meaning--is gone!
The maddening pendulum urges me forward
To labor and labor and still labor on.
The tick of the clock is the Boss in his anger!
The face of the clock has the eyes of a foe;
The clock--Oh, I shudder--dost hear how it drives me?
It calls me "Machine!" and it cries to me "Sew!"
At noon, when about me the wild tumult ceases,
And gone is the master, and I sit apart,
And dawn in my brain is beginning to glimmer,
The wound comes agape at the core of my heart;
And tears, bitter tears flow; ay, tears that are scalding;
They moisten my dinner--my dry crust of bread;
They choke me,--I cannot eat;--no, no, I cannot!
Oh, horrible toil I born of Need and of Dread.
The sweatshop at mid-day--I'll draw you the picture:
A battlefield bloody; the conflict at rest;
Around and about me the corpses are lying;
The blood cries aloud from the earth's gory breast.
A moment... and hark! The loud signal is sounded,
The dead rise again and renewed is the fight...
They struggle, these corpses; for strangers, for strangers!
They struggle, they fall, and they sink into night.
I gaze on the battle in bitterest anger,
And pain, hellish pain wakes the rebel in me!
The | 151.155343 | 621 |
2023-11-16 18:18:17.8510150 | 380 | 99 |
Produced by Greg Bergquist, JoAnn Greenwood, 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: HERCULES AND THE GOLDEN APPLES]
HALF A HUNDRED
HERO TALES
OF ULYSSES AND THE MEN OF OLD
EDITED BY
FRANCIS STORR
EDITOR OF "THE JOURNAL OF EDUCATION," LONDON
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
FRANK C. PAPE
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
1913
COPYRIGHT, 1911,
BY
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY
_Published January, 1911_
THE QUINN & BODEN CO. PRESS
RAHWAY, N. J.
PREFACE
The apology offered for adding yet another book of Classical Stories
to the endless existing versions, ancient and modern, in verse and in
prose, is the plea that Vivien offers to Merlin for her "tender
rhyme":
"It lives dispersedly in many hands,
And every minstrel sings it differently."
"You Greeks," said the Egyptian priest to Herodotus, "are always
children," and Greece will never lose the secret of eternal youth. The
tale of Troy divine, of Thebes and Pelops' line, the song of sweet
Colonus, the most cruel death of Pyramus and Thisby, Dido with a
willow in her hand--these old stories of Homer and Sophocles, of
Virgil and Ovid, have not lost their | 151.170425 | 622 |
2023-11-16 18:18:18.0064720 | 1,087 | 396 |
Produced by Bill Tozier, Julia Neufeld and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals.
Minor typographical errors and inconsistencies have been silently
normalized. Inconsistent capitalizations of christian and christianity
have been left as in the original.
A SERMON DELIVERED BEFORE HIS EXCELLENCY EDWARD EVERETT, GOVERNOR, HIS
HONOR GEORGE HULL, LIEUTENANT GOVERNOR, THE HONORABLE COUNCIL, AND THE
LEGISLATURE OF MASSACHUSETTS, ON THE ANNIVERSARY ELECTION, JANUARY 2,
1839.
BY MARK HOPKINS, D. D. President of Williams College.
Boston:
DUTTON AND WENTWORTH, PRINTERS TO THE STATE.
1839.
Commonwealth of Massachusetts.
SENATE, JANUARY 3, 1839.
_Ordered_, That Messrs. Filley, Quincy, and Kimball, be a Committee
to present the thanks of the Senate to the Rev. MARK HOPKINS, D. D.
for the discourse yesterday delivered by him, before the Government
of the Commonwealth, and to request a copy thereof for publication.
Attest,
CHARLES CALHOUN, _Clerk_.
SERMON.
Acts v. 29.
WE OUGHT TO OBEY GOD RATHER THAN MAN.
Man was made for something higher and better, than either to make, or
to obey, merely human laws. He is the creature of God, is subject to
his laws, and can find his perfection, and consequent happiness, only
in obeying those laws. As his moral perfection, the life of his life,
is involved in this obedience, it is impossible that any power should
lay him under obligation to disobey. The known will of God, if not the
foundation of right, is its paramount rule, and it is because human
governments are ordained by him, that we owe them obedience. We are
bound to them, not by compact, but only as God's institutions for the
good of the race. This is what the Bible, though sometimes referred to
as supporting arbitrary power, really teaches. It does not support
arbitrary power. Rightly understood, it is a perfect rule of duty, and
as in every thing else, so in the relations of subjects and rulers.
It lays down the true principles, it gives us the guiding light. When
the general question is whether human governments are to be obeyed,
the answer is, "He that resisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance
of God." "The powers that be are ordained of God." But when these
powers overstep their appointed limits, and would lord it over the
conscience, and come between man and his maker, then do we hear it
uttered in the very face of power, and by the voice of inspiration, no
less than of indignant humanity, "We ought to obey God rather than
men."
It has been in connexion with the maintenance of this principle, first
proclaimed by an Apostle of Christ eighteen hundred years ago, that
all the civil liberty now in the world has sprung up. It is to the
fearless assertion of this principle by our forefathers, that we owe
it that the representatives of a free people are assembled here this
day to worship God according to the dictates of their own consciences,
to seek to Him for wisdom in their deliberations, and to acknowledge
the subordination of all human governments to that which is divine.
Permit me then, as appropriate to the present occasion, to call the
attention of this audience, 1st. To the grounds on which all men are
bound to adhere to the principle stated in the text; and
2d. To the consequences of such adherence, on the part, both of
subjects, and of rulers.
* * * * *
I observe, then, that we ought to obey God rather than men, because
human governments are comparatively so limited and negative in their
bearing upon the great purposes, first, of individual, and second, of
social existence.
The purposes for which man was made, must evidently involve in their
accomplishment, both his duty and his happiness; and nothing can be
his duty which would contravene those purposes. Among them, as already
intimated, the highest is the moral perfection of the individual; for
as it is by his moral nature that man is distinguished from the
inferior animals, so it is only in the perfection of that nature, that
his perfection, as man, can consist. As absolute perfection can belong
only to God, that of man must be relative, that is, it must consist in
the proper adjustment of relations, and especially in the relation of
his voluntary actions to the end for which God designed him. This is
our idea of perfection, when we affirm | 151.325882 | 623 |
2023-11-16 18:18:18.0614790 | 218 | 179 |
Produced by Ron Burkey
LIFE OF JOHN STERLING
By Thomas Carlyle
Transcriber's Note: Italics in the text are indicated by the use of an
underscore as delimiter, _thusly_. All footnotes have been collected at
the end of the text, and numbered sequentially in brackets, [thusly].
One illustration has been omitted. The "pound" symbol has been replaced
by the word "pounds". Otherwise, all spelling, punctuation, etc., have
been left as in the printed text.
Taken from volume 2 of Carlyle's Complete Works, which additionally
contains the Latter-Day Pamphlets, to be provided as a separate etext.
PART I.
CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY.
Near seven years ago, a short while before his death in 1844, John
Sterling committed the care of his literary Character and printed
Writings to two friends, Archdeacon Hare and myself. His estimate of the
bequest was far from overweening; to | 151.380889 | 624 |
2023-11-16 18:18:18.1002660 | 387 | 75 | Project Gutenberg's The Principles of Philosophy, by Rene Descartes
#2 in our series by Rene Descartes
Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
copyright laws for your country before distributing this or any other
Project Gutenberg file.
We encourage you to keep this file, exactly as it is, on your
own disk, thereby keeping an electronic path open for future
readers. Please do not remove this.
This header should be the first thing seen when anyone starts to
view the etext. Do not change or edit it without written permission.
The words are carefully chosen to provide users with the
information they need to understand what they may and may not
do with the etext.
**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
*****These Etexts Are Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get etexts, and
further information, is included below. We need your donations.
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a 501(c)(3)
organization with EIN [Employee Identification Number] 64-6221541
Title: The Principles of Philosophy
Author: Rene Descartes
Release Date: August, 2003 [Etext# 4391]
[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
[This file was first posted on January 22, 2002]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
Project Gutenberg's The Principles of Philosophy, by Rene Descartes
*******This file should be named 4391.txt or 4391.zip*******
Produced by Steve Harris, Charles Franks
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
Project Gutenberg Etexts are often created from several printed
editions, | 151.419676 | 625 |
2023-11-16 18:18:18.1971150 | 1,000 | 498 | The Project Gutenberg Etext of NEVER AGAIN! by Edward Carpenter
Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check
the laws for your country before redistributing 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.
Please do not remove this.
This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book.
Do not change or edit it without written permission. The words
are carefully chosen to provide users with the information they
need about what they can legally do with the texts.
**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.
Presently, contributions are only being solicited from people in:
Texas, Nevada, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota,
Iowa, Indiana, and Vermont. As the requirements for other states
are met, additions to this list will be made and fund raising will
begin in the additional states. These donations should be made to:
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
PMB 113
1739 University Ave.
Oxford, MS 38655
Title: NEVER AGAIN
Author: Edward Carpenter
Release Date: December, 2001 [Etext #2990]
[Yes, we are about one year ahead of schedule]
Edition: 10
The Project Gutenberg Etext of NEVER AGAIN! by Edward Carpenter
*****This file should be named 2990.txt or 2990.zip******
Scanned by Edward.W.Badger
e-mail [email protected] OR
e-mail [email protected]
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 year in advance
of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
Please be encouraged to send us error messages even years after
the official publication date.
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.
Most people start at our sites at:
http://gutenberg.net
http://promo.net/pg
Those of you who want to download any Etext before announcement
can surf to them as follows, and just download by date; this is
also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.
http://metalab.unc.edu/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext01
or
ftp://metalab.unc.edu/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext01
Or /etext00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90
Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
as it appears in our Newsletters.
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 fifty new Etext
files per month, or 500 more Etexts in 2000 for a total of 3000+
If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total
should reach over 300 billion Etexts given away by year's end.
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 about 4% of the present number of computer users.
At our revised rates of production | 151.516525 | 626 |
2023-11-16 18:18:19.1020270 | 383 | 114 | THE GERMAN OCEAN ALONG THE NORFOLK COAST***
Transcribed from the 1844 Matchett, Stevenson, and Matchett edition by
David Price, email [email protected]
[Picture: Public domain book cover]
[Picture: Eccles Church, the present state of the Beach at Happisburgh,
Norfolk. C. Graf. Lith. to Her Majesty. D. Hodgson, delt.]
AN ESSAY
ON THE
ENCROACHMENTS OF THE GERMAN OCEAN
ALONG THE NORFOLK COAST,
WITH
A DESIGN TO ARREST ITS FURTHER DEPREDATIONS;
DEDICATED
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE
LORDS COMMISSIONERS OF THE ADMIRALTY.
* * * * *
* * * * *
By W. HEWITT, SURGEON.
* * * * *
* * * * *
NORWICH:
PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR,
BY MATCHETT, STEVENSON, AND MATCHETT, MARKET-PLACE.
SOLD ALSO BY EDWARDS AND HUGHES, 12, AVE-MARIA-LANE, LONDON.
1844.
DEDICATION.
_To the Right Honourable the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty_.
MY LORDS AND GENTLEMEN,
A communication with your Lordships in 1843, led me to infer that an
Essay upon the interesting subject connected with the present inquiry,
would be received with a degree of attention according to its merits, and
the importance of the object connected with it. But should you, in your
superior wisdom, perceive sufficient evidence has not been advanced to
render it deserving | 152.421437 | 627 |
2023-11-16 18:18:19.1440310 | 1,093 | 429 |
Produced by Gardner Buchanan. HTML version by Al Haines.
CHRONICLES OF CANADA
Edited by George M. Wrong and H. H. Langton
In thirty-two volumes
Volume 2
THE MARINER OF ST MALO
A Chronicle of the Voyages of Jacques Cartier
By
STEPHEN LEACOCK
TORONTO, 1915
CONTENTS
I EARLY LIFE
II THE FIRST VOYAGE--NEWFOUNDLAND AND LABRADOR
III THE FIRST VOYAGE--THE GULF OF ST LAWRENCE
IV THE SECOND VOYAGE--THE ST LAWRENCE
V THE SECOND VOYAGE--STADACONA
VI THE SECOND VOYAGE--HOCHELAGA
VII THE SECOND VOYAGE--WINTER AT STADACONA
VIII THE THIRD VOYAGE
IX THE CLOSE OF CARTIER'S CAREER
ITINERARY OF CARTIER'S VOYAGES
BIBLIOGRAPHIC NOTE
CHAPTER I
EARLY LIFE
In the town hall of the seaport of St Malo there hangs a portrait of
Jacques Cartier, the great sea-captain of that place, whose name is
associated for all time with the proud title of 'Discoverer of Canada.'
The picture is that of a bearded man in the prime of life, standing on
the deck of a ship, his bent elbow resting upon the gunwale, his chin
supported by his hand, while his eyes gaze outward upon the western
ocean as if seeking to penetrate its mysteries. The face is firm and
strong, with tight-set jaw, prominent brow, and the full, inquiring eye
of the man accustomed both to think and to act. The costume marks the
sea-captain of four centuries ago. A thick cloak, gathered by a belt at
the waist, enwraps the stalwart figure. On his head is the tufted
Breton cap familiar in the pictures of the days of the great
navigators. At the waist, on the left side, hangs a sword, and, on the
right, close to the belt, the dirk or poniard of the period.
How like or unlike the features of Cartier this picture in the town
hall may be, we have no means of telling. Painted probably in 1839, it
has hung there for more than seventy years, and the record of the
earlier prints or drawings from which its artist drew his inspiration
no longer survives. We know, indeed, that an ancient map of the eastern
coast of America, made some ten years after the first of Cartier's
voyages, has pictured upon it a group of figures that represent the
landing of the navigator and his followers among the Indians of Gaspe.
It was the fashion of the time to attempt by such decorations to make
maps vivid. Demons, deities, mythological figures and naked savages
disported themselves along the borders of the maps and helped to
decorate unexplored spaces of earth and ocean. Of this sort is the
illustration on the map in question. But it is generally agreed that we
have no right to identify Cartier with any of the figures in the scene,
although the group as a whole undoubtedly typifies his landing upon the
seacoast of Canada.
There is rumour, also, that the National Library at Paris contains an
old print of Cartier, who appears therein as a bearded man passing from
the prime of life to its decline. The head is slightly bowed with the
weight of years, and the face is wanting in that suggestion of
unconquerable will which is the dominating feature of the portrait of
St Malo. This is the picture that appears in the form of a medallion,
or ring-shaped illustration, in more than one of the modern works upon
the great adventurer. But here again we have no proofs of identity, for
we know nothing of the origin of the portrait.
Curiously enough an accidental discovery of recent years seems to
confirm in some degree the genuineness of the St Malo portrait. There
stood until the autumn of 1908, in the French-Canadian fishing village
of Cap-des-Rosiers, near the mouth of the St Lawrence, a house of very
ancient date. Precisely how old it was no one could say, but it was
said to be the oldest existing habitation of the settlement. Ravaged by
perhaps two centuries of wind and weather, the old house afforded but
little shelter against the boisterous gales and the bitter cold of the
rude climate of the Gulf. Its owner decided to tear it down, and in
doing so he stumbled upon a startling discovery. He found a dummy
window that, generations before, had evidently been built over and
concealed. From the cavity thus disclosed he drew forth a large wooden
medallion, about twenty inches across, with the portrait of a man
carved in relief. Here again are the tufted hat, the bearded face, and | 152.463441 | 628 |
2023-11-16 18:18:19.5425410 | 1,262 | 390 |
Produced by Susan Skinner and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
LONDON
BY
WALTER BESANT
AUTHOR OF "ALL SORTS AND CONDITIONS OF MEN"
"FIFTY YEARS AGO" ETC.
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS_
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE
Copyright, 1892, by HARPER & BROTHERS.
_All rights reserved._
PREFACE
In the following chapters it has been my endeavor to present pictures of
the City of London--instantaneous photographs, showing the streets, the
buildings, and the citizens at work and at play. Above all, the
citizens: with their daily life in the streets, in the shops, in the
churches, and in the houses; the merchant in the quays and on 'Change;
the shopkeeper of Cheapside; the priests and the monks and the friars;
the shouting of those who sell; the laughter and singing of those who
feast and drink; the ringing of the bells; the dragging of the criminal
to the pillory; the Riding of the Lord Mayor and Aldermen; the river
with its boats and barges; the cheerful sound of pipe and tabor; the
stage with its tumblers and its rope-dancers; the 'prentices with their
clubs; the evening dance in the streets. I want my pictures to show all
these things. The history of London has been undertaken by many writers;
the presentment of the city and the people from age to age has never
yet, I believe, been attempted.
The sources whence one derives the materials for such an attempt are, in
the earlier stages, perfectly well known and accessible to all. Chaucer,
Froissart, Lydgate, certain volumes of the "Early English Text Society,"
occur to everybody. But the richest mine, for him who digs after the
daily life of the London citizen during the fourteenth and fifteenth
centuries, is certainly Riley's great book of _Extracts from the City
Records_. If there is any life or any reality in the three chapters of
this book which treat of the Plantagenet period, it is certainly due to
Riley.
As regards the Tudor period, the wealth of illustration is astonishing.
One might as well be writing of the city life of this day, so copious
are the materials. But it is not to Shakespeare and the dramatists that
we must look for the details so much as to the minor writers, the
moralists and satirists, of whom the ordinary world knows nothing.
The reign of Charles II. directs one to the Plague and to the Fire. I
was fortunate in finding two tracts, one dealing with the plague of
1603, and the other with that of 1625. These, though they are earlier
than Charles II., were invaluable, as illustrating the effect of the
pestilence in causing an exodus of all who could get away, which took
place as much in these earlier years as in 1666. Contemporary tracts on
the state of London after the Fire, also happily discovered, proved
useful. And when the Plague and the Fire had been dismissed, another
extraordinary piece of good fortune put me in possession of certain
household accounts which enabled me to present a bourgeois family of the
period at home.
Where there is so much to speak about, one must exercise care in
selection. I have endeavored to avoid as much as possible those points
which have already been presented. For instance, the growth of the
municipality, the rise of the Guilds and the Companies, the laws of
London, the relations of the City to the Sovereign and the State--these
things belong to the continuous historian, not to him who draws a
picture of a given time. In the latter case it is the effect of law, not
its growth, which is important. Thus I have spoken of the pilgrimizing
in the time of Henry II.; of the Mysteries of that time; things that
belonged to the daily life; rather than to matters of policy, the
stubborn tenacity of the City, or the changes that were coming over the
conditions of existence and of trade. Again, in Plantagenet London one
might have dwelt at length upon the action taken by London in successive
civil wars. That, again, belongs to the historian. I have contented
myself with sketching the churches and the monasteries, the palaces and
the men-at-arms, the merchants and the workmen.
Again, in the time of George II., the increase of trade, which then
advanced by leaps and bounds, the widening of the world to London
enterprise, the part which London took in the conquest of India and the
ejection of France from North America belong to history. For my own part
I have preferred to show the position, the influence, and the work of
the Church at a time generally believed to be the deadest period in the
whole history of the Church of England. This done, I have gone on to
illustrate the day-by-day life of the citizens, with the prices of
things, the management, and the appearance of the City.
One thing remains to be said. Mr. Loftie, in his _History of London_
(Stadford), first gave the world a reconstruction of the ground--the
_terrain_--of London and its environs before ever a house was erected or
an acre cleared. The first chapter of this book--that on Roman London
and After--is chiefly due to a study of this map, and to realizing what
that map means when applied to the scanty records of Augusta. This map
enabled me to recover the years which followed the retreat of the
Romans. I cannot allow this chapter to be called a Theory | 152.861951 | 629 |
2023-11-16 18:18:19.6938820 | 1,473 | 450 |
Produced by Julia Miller, Sam W. 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.)
Transcriber's Note
Words in {curly brackets} were abbreviated in the original text, and
have been expanded for this etext. Greek is indicated with plus
symbols, +like this+.
THE ART
OF
NEEDLE-WORK,
FROM THE EARLIEST AGES;
INCLUDING
SOME NOTICES OF THE
ANCIENT HISTORICAL TAPESTRIES
EDITED BY
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
THE COUNTESS OF WILTON.
"I WRITE THE NEEDLE'S PRAYSE."
_THIRD EDITION._
LONDON:
HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER,
GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
1841.
TO
HER MOST GRACIOUS MAJESTY
THE QUEEN DOWAGER
THIS LITTLE WORK,
INTENDED TO ILLUSTRATE THE HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF AN ART
ENNOBLED BY HER MAJESTY'S PRACTICE, AND BY HER EXAMPLE
RECOMMENDED TO THE
WOMEN OF ENGLAND,
IS,
BY HER MAJESTY'S MOST GRACIOUS PERMISSION,
INSCRIBED,
WITH THE UTMOST RESPECT,
BY HER MAJESTY'S MOST GRATEFUL
AND MOST OBEDIENT SERVANT,
THE AUTHORESS.
PREFACE.
If there be one mechanical art of more universal application than all
others, and therefore of more universal interest, it is that which is
practised with the NEEDLE. From the stateliest denizen of the proudest
palace, to the humblest dweller in the poorest cottage, all more or
less ply the busy needle; from the crying infant of a span long and an
hour's life, to the silent tenant of "the narrow house," all need its
practical services.
Yet have the NEEDLE and its beautiful and useful creations hitherto
remained without their due meed of praise and record, either in sober
prose or sounding rhyme,--while their glittering antithesis, the
scathing and destroying sword, has been the theme of admiring and
exulting record, without limit and without end!
The progress of real civilization is rapidly putting an end to this
false _prestige_ in favour of the "Destructive" weapon, and as rapidly
raising the "Conservative" one in public estimation; and the time
seems at length arrived when that triumph of female ingenuity and
industry, "THE ART OF NEEDLEWORK" may be treated as a fitting subject
of historical and social record--fitting at least for a female hand.
The chief aim of this volume is that of affording a comprehensive
record of the most noticeable facts, and an entertaining and
instructive gathering together of the most curious and pleasing
associations, connected with "THE ART OF NEEDLEWORK," from the
earliest ages to the present day; avoiding entirely the dry
technicalities of the art, yet furnishing an acceptable accessory to
every work-table--a fitting tenant of every boudoir.
The Authoress thinks thus much necessary in explanation of the objects
of a work on what may be called a maiden topic, and she trusts that
that leniency in criticism which is usually accorded to the adventurer
on an unexplored track will not be withheld from her.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Page
Introductory 1
CHAPTER II.
Early Needlework 11
CHAPTER III.
Needlework of the Tabernacle 23
CHAPTER IV.
Needlework of the Egyptians 32
CHAPTER V.
Needlework of the Greeks and Romans 41
CHAPTER VI.
The Dark Ages.--"Shee-Schools" 56
CHAPTER VII.
Needlework of the Dark Ages 64
CHAPTER VIII.
The Bayeux Tapestry.--Part I. 84
CHAPTER IX.
The Bayeux Tapestry.--Part II. 103
CHAPTER X.
Needlework of the Times of Romance and Chivalry 117
CHAPTER XI.
Tapestry 148
CHAPTER XII.
Romances worked in Tapestry 165
CHAPTER XIII.
Needlework in Costume.--Part I. 186
CHAPTER XIV.
Needlework in Costume.--Part II. 209
CHAPTER XV.
"The Field of the Cloth of Gold" 231
CHAPTER XVI.
The Needle 252
CHAPTER XVII.
Tapestry from the Cartoons 273
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Days of "Good Queen Bess" 282
CHAPTER XIX.
The Tapestry of the Spanish Armada; better
known as the Tapestry of the House of Lords 301
CHAPTER XX.
On Stitchery 312
CHAPTER XXI.
"Les Anciennes Tapisseries." Tapestry of St.
Mary Hall, Coventry. Tapestry of Hampton Court 329
CHAPTER XXII.
Embroidery 342
CHAPTER XXIII.
Needlework on Books 355
CHAPTER XXIV.
Needlework of Royal Ladies 374
CHAPTER XXV.
Modern Needlework 395
THE ART
OF
NEEDLEWORK.
INTRODUCTION.
CHAPTER I.
"Le donne son venute in eccellenza
Di ciascun'arte, ove hanno posto cura;
E qualunque all'istorie abbia avvertenza,
Ne sente ancor la fama non oscura.
* * * * *
E forse ascosi han lor debiti onori
L'invidia, o il non saper degli scrittori."
Ariosto.
In all ages woman may lament the ungallant silence of the historian.
His pen is the record of sterner actions than are usually the vocation
of the gentler sex, and it is only when fair individuals have been by
extraneous circumstances thrown out, as it were, on the canvas of
human affairs--when they have been forced into a publicity little
consistent with their natural sphere--that they have become his theme.
Consequently those domestic virtues which are woman's greatest pride,
those retiring characteristics which are her most becoming ornament,
those gentle occupations which are her best employment, find no record
on pages whose chief aim and end is the blazoning of manly heroism, of
royal disputations | 153.013292 | 630 |
2023-11-16 18:18:20.4050840 | 1,127 | 563 |
Produced by David Edwards, Cathy Maxam, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
COMPARATIVE STUDIES
IN NURSERY RHYMES
COMPARATIVE STUDIES
IN
NURSERY RHYMES
BY
LINA ECKENSTEIN
AUTHOR OF "WOMAN UNDER MONASTICISM"
_There were more things in Mrs. Gurton's eye,
Mayhap, than are dreamed of in our philosophy_
C. S. CALVERLEY
[Illustration]
LONDON
DUCKWORTH & CO.
3 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN
1906
TO THE GENTLE READER
The walls of the temple of King Sety at Abydos in Upper Egypt are
decorated with sculptured scenes which represent the cult of the gods
and the offerings brought to them. In a side chapel there is depicted
the following curious scene. A dead figure lies extended on a bier;
sorrowing hawks surround him; a flying hawk reaches down a seal amulet
from above. Had I succeeded in procuring a picture of the scene, it
would stand reproduced here; for the figure and his mourners recalled
the quaint little woodcut of a toy-book which told the tale of the Death
and Burial of Cock Robin. The sculptures of Sety date from the
fourteenth century before Christ; the knell of the robin can be traced
back no further than the middle of the eighteenth century A.D. Can the
space that lies between be bridged over, and the conception of the dead
robin be linked on to that of the dead hawk? However that may be, the
sight of the sculptured scene strengthened my resolve to place some of
the coincidences of comparative nursery lore before the gentle reader.
It lies with him to decide whether the wares are such as to make a
further instalment desirable.
_23 September, 1906._
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. FIRST APPEARANCE OF RHYMES IN PRINT 1
II. EARLY REFERENCES 13
III. RHYMES AND POPULAR SONGS 23
IV. RHYMES IN TOY-BOOKS 36
V. RHYMES AND BALLADS 45
VI. RHYMES AND COUNTRY DANCES 57
VII. THE GAME OF "SALLY WATERS" 67
VIII. "THE LADY OF THE LAND" 78
IX. CUSTOM RHYMES 89
X. RIDDLE-RHYMES 104
XI. CUMULATIVE PIECES 115
XII. CHANTS OF NUMBERS 134
XIII. CHANTS OF THE CREED 143
XIV. HEATHEN CHANTS OF THE CREED 152
XV. SACRIFICIAL HUNTING 171
XVI. BIRD SACRIFICE 185
XVII. THE ROBIN AND THE WREN 200
XVIII. CONCLUDING REMARKS 215
LIST OF FOREIGN COLLECTIONS 221
ALPHABETICAL INDEX 223
_... To my gaze the phantoms of the Past,
The cherished fictions of my boyhood, rise:_
* * * * *
_The House that Jack built--and the Malt that lay
Within the House--the Rat that ate the Malt--
The Cat, that in that sanguinary way
Punished the poor thing for its venial fault--
The Worrier-Dog--the Cow with crumpled horn--
And then--ah yes! and then--the Maiden all forlorn!_
_O Mrs. Gurton--(may I call thee Gammer?)
Thou more than mother to my infant mind!
I loved thee better than I loved my grammar--
I used to wonder why the Mice were blind,
And who was gardener to Mistress Mary,
And what--I don't know still--was meant by "quite contrary."_
C. S. C.
The dates that stand after the separate rhymes refer to the list of
English collections on p. 11; the capital letters in brackets refer
to the list of books on p. 221.
COMPARATIVE STUDIES IN NURSERY RHYMES
CHAPTER I
FIRST APPEARANCE OF RHYMES IN PRINT
The study of folk-lore has given a new interest to much that seemed
insignificant and trivial. Among the unheeded possessions of the past
that have gained a fresh value are nursery rhymes. A nursery rhyme I
take to be a rhyme that was passed on by word of mouth and taught to
children before it was set down in writing and put into print. The use
of the term in this application goes back to the early part of the
nineteenth century. In 1834 John Gawler, | 153.724494 | 631 |
2023-11-16 18:18:21.2392710 | 1,076 | 464 |
Produced by Annie R. McGuire
[Illustration: HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE
AN ILLUSTRATED WEEKLY.]
* * * * *
VOL. II.--NO. 70. PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK. PRICE FOUR
CENTS.
Tuesday, March 1, 1881. Copyright, 1881, by HARPER & BROTHERS. $1.50 per
Year, in Advance.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE BOY TIMOTHY.--[SEE NEXT PAGE.]]
TIMOTHY.
BY BISHOP T. U. DUDLEY.
In a little town called Lystra, in Asia Minor, a multitude is gathered
in the market-place. Two strangers are the attraction, who have strange
tidings to tell. Their story is of one Jesus, a King, who, they say, was
born in Judea some fifty years before. They tell of marvellous deeds of
mercy which He wrought, and of words as marvellous and as merciful that
He spake. They tell that He died on a cross, but that, King of Death, He
came back from the grave at His own appointed time. They declare that He
did visibly ascend into heaven, and now sitteth there to pardon and to
bless all who will believe on Him. And even while the crowd is listening
to the words of the chief speaker, whose name is Paul, he looks fixedly
upon a poor lame man, a <DW36> from his birth, who is among his
auditors, and cries with a loud voice, "Stand upright on thy feet."
Instantly the command is obeyed, and the life-time <DW36> leaps and
walks.
Respectful attention straightway became enthusiasm. The market-place
resounds with the shout, "The gods are come down to us in the likeness
of men," and the priest who serves in Jupiter's Temple hastens with oxen
and garlands to do sacrifice to the miracle-workers, despite their
earnest remonstrance that they are but sinful men, come to tell them of
the one living God.
But quickly there is interruption as effective as sudden from other
strangers of the same distant nation, whose words persuade the fickle
populace, and in a little while Paul is being dragged out of the city to
all appearance dead. They have stoned the man to whom just now they
would do sacrifice!
Among the listeners to the gospel Paul had preached, among the wondering
spectators of the lame man's healing, among the on-lookers at the deed
of violence, stands a boy, generous and warm-hearted, weeping manly
tears over that which is done. His name is Timothy, and of him, as he
sits there that day in his native town, his heart all aglow with the new
hopes whereof he has heard, and his spirit all aflame with admiration
for undaunted courage, and with pity for the innocent sufferer, our
artist has given us the portrait. The Sacred Scriptures, which he has
known from a child, have gained new meaning. He is reading the ancient
writings with the new light which Paul has thrown upon them--the light
from the open grave of Jesus.
He is the child from a mixed marriage, his mother a Jewess, but his
father a Greek, and therefore he is but ill esteemed by the Hebrews who
dwell in his town. The records of his life make no mention of his
father, and from this fact it has been inferred that he died while
Timothy was yet an infant. And we are plainly told that his education
was all given by his mother, Eunice, and his grandmother, Lois, and that
"from a child he knew the Holy Scriptures."
The face which the artist has drawn will represent to us what we should
expect to be the appearance of a boy thus brought up, and the character
which we judge him to have possessed, from the warnings and the advice
given to him by his master and teacher, Paul. His piety, while sincere
and intense, is yet of a feminine cast; his constitution is far from
robust; he shrinks from opposition and responsibility; his tears lie
close to their outlet, and are ready to flow and hide the suffering
object; he will subject his body to denial greater than its strength
will bear, and as the natural counterpart of these characteristics, he
is in danger of being carried away by "youthful lusts." Such is Timothy
when, after seven years have passed away, and the boy is grown to be a
man, Paul, returning to Lystra to confirm and comfort the Christians
there, will have him to be the companion of his journeyings and the
best-loved friend of his heart.
There is not space in this article to recite the events of the career
that followed. Let each of our boy readers | 154.558681 | 632 |
2023-11-16 18:18:21.3428630 | 1,067 | 393 |
Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Chuck Greif and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
IN INDIAN TENTS
IN INDIAN TENTS
Stories
TOLD BY PENOBSCOT, PASSAMAQUODDY
AND MICMAC INDIANS
TO
ABBY L. ALGER
[Illustration: colophon]
BOSTON
ROBERTS BROTHERS
1897
_Copyright, 1897_,
BY ROBERTS BROTHERS.
University Press:
JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.
This Book
IS
AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED
TO
CHARLES GODFREY LELAND,
TO WHOSE INSPIRATION IT OWES
ITS ORIGIN.
PREFACE
In the summer of 1882 and 1883, I was associated with Charles G. Leland
in the collection of the material for his book “The Algonquin Legends of
New England,” published by Houghton and Mifflin in 1884.
I found the work so delightful, that I have gone on with it since,
whenever I found myself in the neighborhood of Indians. The supply of
legends and tales seems to be endless, one supplementing and completing
another, so that there may be a dozen versions of one tale, each
containing something new. I have tried, in this little book, in every
case, to bring these various versions into a single whole; though I
scarcely hope to give my readers the pleasure which I found in hearing
them from the Indian story-tellers. Only the very old men and women
remember these stories now; and though they know that their legends
will soon be buried with them, and forgotten, it is no easy task to
induce them to repeat them. One may make half-a-dozen visits, tell his
own best stories, and exert all his arts of persuasion in vain, then
stroll hopelessly by some day, to be called in to hear some marvellous
bit of folk-lore. These old people have firm faith in the witches,
fairies, and giants of whom they tell; and any trace of amusement or
incredulity would meet with quick indignation and reserve.
Two of these stories have been printed in Appleton’s “Popular Science
Monthly,” and are in the English Magazine “Folk-Lore.”
I am under the deepest obligation to my friend, Mrs. Wallace Brown, of
Calais, Maine, who has generously contributed a number of stories from
her own collection.
The woman whose likeness appears on the cover of this book was a famous
story-teller, one of the few nearly pure-blooded Indians in the
Passamaquoddy tribe. She was over eighty-seven when this picture was
taken.
CONTENTS
PAGE
THE CREATION 11
GRANDFATHER THUNDER 15
THE FIGHT OF THE WITCHES 19
ŪLISKE 30
STORY OF WĀLŪT 34
OLD SNOWBALL 44
ĀL-WŪS-KI-NI-GESS, THE SPIRIT OF THE WOODS 51
M’TĒŪLIN, THE GREAT WITCH 53
SUMMER 57
THE BUILDING OF THE BOATS 61
THE MERMAN 66
STORY OF STURGEON 72
GRANDFATHER KIAWĀKQ’ 77
OLD GOVERNOR JOHN 81
K’CHĪ GESS’N, THE NORTHWEST WIND 84
BIG BELLY 95
CHĪBALOCH, THE SPIRIT OF THE AIR 99
STORY OF TEAM, THE MOOSE 101
THE SNAKE AND THE PORCUPINE 106
WHY THE RABBIT’S NOSE IS SPLIT 108
STORY OF THE SQUIRREL 111
WAWBĀBAN, THE NORTHERN LIGHTS 130
THE WOOD WORM’S STORY, SHOWING WHY THE
RAVEN’S FEATHERS ARE BLACK 134
IN INDIAN TENTS
THE CREATION
In the beginning God made Adam out of the earth, but he did not make
Glūs-kābé (the Indian God). Glūs-kābé made himself out of the dirt that
was kicked up in the creation of Adam. He rose and walked about, but he
could not speak until the Lord opened his lips.
God made the earth and the sea, and then he took counsel with Glūs-kābé
concerning them. He asked | 154.662273 | 633 |
2023-11-16 18:18:21.3502140 | 402 | 73 |
Produced by Dagny, and David Widger. HTML version by Al Haines.
THE THREE CITIES
PARIS
BY
EMILE ZOLA
TRANSLATED BY ERNEST A. VIZETELLY
BOOK V
I
THE GUILLOTINE
FOR some reason of his own Guillaume was bent upon witnessing the
execution of Salvat. Pierre tried to dissuade him from doing so; and
finding his efforts vain, became somewhat anxious. He accordingly
resolved to spend the night at Montmartre, accompany his brother and
watch over him. In former times, when engaged with Abbe Rose in
charitable work in the Charonne district, he had learnt that the
guillotine could be seen from the house where Mege, the Socialist deputy,
resided at the corner of the Rue Merlin. He therefore offered himself as
a guide. As the execution was to take place as soon as it should legally
be daybreak, that is, about half-past four o'clock, the brothers did not
go to bed but sat up in the workroom, feeling somewhat drowsy, and
exchanging few words. Then as soon as two o'clock struck, they started
off.
The night was beautifully serene and clear. The full moon, shining like a
silver lamp in the cloudless, far-stretching heavens, threw a calm,
dreamy light over the vague immensity of Paris, which was like some
spell-bound city of sleep, so overcome by fatigue that not a murmur arose
from it. It was as if beneath the soft radiance which spread over its
roofs, its panting labour and its cries of suffering were lulled to
repose until the dawn. Yet, in a far, out of the way district, dark work
was even now progressing, a knife was being raised on high in order that | 154.669624 | 634 |
2023-11-16 18:18:21.4594820 | 209 | 179 |
Produced by David Clarke, Meredith Bach 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 PANCHRONICON
THE
PANCHRONICON
BY
HAROLD STEELE MACKAYE
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1904
COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
Published, April, 1904
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE THEORY OF COPERNICUS DROOP 1
II. A VISIT TO THE PANCHRONICON 23
III. A NOCTURNAL EVASION 38
IV. A CHANGE OF PLAN 58
V. DROOP'S THEORY IN PRACTICE 86
VI. SHIP | 154.778892 | 635 |
2023-11-16 18:18:21.6827540 | 1,047 | 401 | THOMPSON***
E-text prepared by Matt Whittaker, Suzanne Shell, and the Project
Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
**********************************************************************
* Transcriber's Note: *
* *
* Obvious typographical errors were corrected and the use of hyphens *
* was made consistent throughout. All other spelling and punctuation *
* was retained as it appeared in the original text. *
**********************************************************************
MY LIFE:
Or
The Adventures of Geo. Thompson.
Being the Auto-Biography of an
Author. Written by Himself.
Why rove in _Fiction's_ shadowy land,
And seek for treasures there,
When _Truth's_ domain, so near at hand,
Is filled with things most rare--
When every day brings something new,
Some great, stupendous change,
Something exciting, wild and _true_,
Most wonderful and strange!
[ORIGINAL.]
{First published 1854}
[Illustration: Yellow Cover of Thompson's _My Life_. Original size 6 x
9-1/8". Courtesy, American Antiquarian Society.]
INTRODUCTION
_In which the author defineth his position._
It having become the fashion of distinguished novelists to write their
own lives--or, in other words, to blow their own trumpets,--the author
of these pages is induced, at the solicitation of numerous friends,
whose bumps of inquisitiveness are strongly developed, to present his
auto-biography to the public--in so doing which, he but follows the
example of Alexandre Dumas, the brilliant French novelist, and of the
world-renowned Dickens, both of whom are understood to be preparing
their personal histories for the press.
Now, in comparing myself with the above great worthies, who are so
deservedly distinguished in the world of literature, I shall be accused
of unpardonable presumption and ridiculous egotism--but I care not what
may be said of me, inasmuch as a total independence of the opinions,
feelings and prejudices of the world, has always been a prominent
characteristic of mine--and that portion of the world and the "rest of
mankind" which does not like me, has my full permission to go to the
devil as soon as it can make all the necessary arrangements for the
journey.
I shall be true and candid, in these pages. I shall not seek to conceal
one of my numerous faults which I acknowledge and deplore; and, if I
imagine that I possess one solitary merit, I shall not be backward in
making that merit known. Those who know me personally, will never accuse
me of entertaining one single atom of that despicable quality,
self-conceit; those who do not know me, are at liberty to think what
they please.--Heaven knows that had I possessed a higher estimation of
myself, a more complete reliance upon my own powers, and some of that
universal commodity known as "cheek," I should at this present moment
have been far better off in fame and fortune. But I have been
unobtrusive, unambitious, retiring--and my friends have blamed me for
this a thousand times. I have seen writers of no talent at all--petty
scribblers, wasters of ink and spoilers of paper, who could not write
six consecutive lines of English grammar, and whose short paragraphs for
the newspapers invariably had to undergo revision and correction--I have
seen such fellows causing themselves to be invited to public banquets
and other festivals, and forcing their unwelcome presence into the
society of the most distinguished men of the day.
I have spoken of my friends--now a word or two in regard to my enemies.
Like most men who have figured before the public, in whatever capacity,
I have secured the hatred of many persons, who, jealous of my humble
fame, have lost no opportunity of spitting out their malice and opposing
my progress. The friendship of such persons is a misfortune--their
enmity is a blessing.
I assure them that their hatred will never cause me to lose a fraction
of my appetite, or my nightly rest. They may consider themselves very
fortunate, if, in the following pages, they do not find themselves
immortalized by my notice, although they are certainly unworthy of so
great a distinction. I enjoy the friendship of men of letters, and am
therefore not to be put down by the opposition of a parcel of senseless
blockheads, without brain, or heart, or soul.
I shall doubtless find it necessary to make allusions to local places,
persons, incidents, &c. Those will add greatly to the interest of the
narrative. Many portraits will be readily recognized, especially those
whose originals reside in Boston, where the greater portion of my
literary career has been passed.
_ | 155.002164 | 636 |
2023-11-16 18:18:22.0185500 | 200 | 193 |
Produced by Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
[Illustration: THE CAR POISED FOR AN INSTANT, THE FRONT WHEELS ON THE
VERY BRINK.]
THE MOTOR BOYS
ON ROAD AND RIVER
Or
Racing To Save a Life
BY
CLARENCE YOUNG
AUTHOR OF “THE MOTOR BOYS,” “THE MOTOR BOYS UNDER
THE SEA,” “THE RACER BOYS SERIES,” “THE
JACK RANGER SERIES,” ETC.
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
BOOKS BY CLARENCE YOUNG
=THE MOTOR BOYS SERIES=
12mo. Illustrated.
THE MOTOR BOYS
THE MOTOR BOYS OVERLAND
THE MOTOR BOYS IN MEXICO
THE MOTOR BOYS ACROSS THE PL | 155.33796 | 637 |
2023-11-16 18:18:22.2781080 | 942 | 404 |
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
(http://archive.org).
SOME ZULU CUSTOMS AND FOLK-LORE
BY
L. H. SAMUELSON
(NOMLETI)
LONDON
THE CHURCH PRINTING COMPANY
BURLEIGH STREET, STRAND, W.C.
PREFACE
It is hoped that the following short stories, which the writer has
endeavoured to tell in the simplest language, will give some idea of
the inner feelings and belief of a people whose individuality is,
despite the number of years we have been in contact with them, little
known to the large majority of us. Even among those well versed in the
language and the practical or legal customs of the natives, there are
few who are acquainted with the undercurrents of thought, and the many
traditions and superstitions, which are accepted without question by
the Zulus, and which form an essential part of the mental life of all
among them who have not had their ideas modified to some extent by
European teaching, and which continue to have a strong hold upon the
larger number even of those who have had the advantages of some kind of
education at the hands of the missionaries and other teachers. The
common estimate of the African native is that he is a being with no
ideas above his cattle and his physical wants; but a more intimate
acquaintance with their life, such as the writer had from being amongst
them for many years at her father's mission station in Zululand, will
reveal that the native has an ideal life of his own. This, it is true,
is in many instances of a crude and savage character; yet it rises a
little, if only a little, above what is "of the earth, earthly," and,
though it may possibly provoke a smile on account of its crudeness or
simplicity, it will at times strike a chord of sympathy as a touch of
nature--as an aspiration, however feeble, to penetrate beyond the veil
which hides the unseen world from human eyes.
Those who have made the folklore of savage or half-civilized peoples
their study cannot fail to be struck with the strange analogy between
some of the superstitions of the Zulus and those of many other nations.
Vague and undefined as some of their native ideas are, there is still a
belief in the existence of a spirit world around them by which their
lives are affected, and a groping after a knowledge of influences
beyond human power, which direct the destinies of mortal man, and of
mysterious forces which can be brought into play by men peculiarly
gifted. In their custom of sacrificing to the spirits, to induce them
to restore the health of a patient, and their belief in the powers of
wizards, we find them under the thraldom of the same superstitions
which have become familiar to us in so many and such diverse
directions--from the ancient Greeks to the modern spiritualists--and
which have at times played so great a part in the history of the world.
Their belief in the "spirits of their fathers" watching over them is
similar to the idea underlying Chinese ancestral worship, and the
wizard's powers of killing or injuring do not differ in essentials from
the so-called spirit healing of enlightened America or the working of
the "evil eye" still believed in by the ignorant among the peasantry of
Italy. If, therefore, in reading of the Zulu superstitions we are
provoked at times to smile, it must be rather at the form than at the
substance. The superstitions are the same that have ever existed, and
that, despite all our advancement, still find adherents among civilized
communities, though among these they are expressed in more delicate
language and acted upon in less savage ways. With the large mass of
Europeans such superstitions, thanks to modern enlightenment, are taken
at their true value; but so long as there are among ourselves people
who believe in planchettes, we cannot quite afford to look with
supercilious contempt upon the African who believes in wizards. And
there is one point of view in which a knowledge of what he believes is
of material importance. To him, these superstitions are realities. He
| 155.597518 | 638 |
2023-11-16 18:18:22.4517890 | 1,072 | 446 |
Produced by Avinash Kothare, Tom Allen, Charles Franks and
the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
THE WINDS OF THE WORLD
By TALBOT MUNDY
THE WINDS OF THE WORLD
Ever the Winds of the World fare forth
(Oh, listen ye! Ah, listen ye!),
East and West, and South and North,
Shuttles weaving back and forth
Amid the warp! (Oh, listen ye!)
Can sightless touch--can vision keen
Hunt where the Winds of the World have been
And searching, learn what rumors mean?
(Nay, ye who are wise! Nay, listen ye!)
When tracks are crossed and scent is stale,
'Tis fools who shout--the fast who fail!
But wise men harken-Listen ye!
YASMINI'S SONG.
CHAPTER I
A watery July sun was hurrying toward a Punjab sky-line, as if weary of
squandering his strength on men who did not mind, and resentful of the
unexplainable--a rainy-weather field-day. The cold steel and khaki of
native Indian cavalry at attention gleamed motionless between British
infantry and two batteries of horse artillery. The only noticeable
sound was the voice of a general officer, that rose and fell explaining
and asserting pride in his command, but saying nothing as to the why of
exercises in the mud. Nor did he mention why the censorship was in full
force. He did not say a word of Germany, or Belgium.
In front of the third squadron from the right, Risaldar-Major Ranjoor
Singh sat his charger like a big bronze statue. He would have stooped
to see his right spur better, that shone in spite of mud, for though he
has been a man these five-and-twenty years, Ranjoor Singh has neither
lost his boyhood love of such things, nor intends to; he has been
accused of wearing solid silver spurs in bed. But it hurt him to bend
much, after a day's hard exercise on a horse such as he rode.
Once--in a rock-strewn gully where the whistling Himalayan wind was
Acting Antiseptic-of-the-Day--a young surgeon had taken hurried
stitches over Ranjoor Singh's ribs without probing deep enough for an
Afghan bullet; that bullet burned after a long day in the saddle. And
Bagh was--as the big brute's name implied--a tiger of a horse,
unweakened even by monsoon weather, and his habit was to spring with
terrific suddenness when his rider moved on him.
So Ranjoor Singh sat still. He was willing to eat agony at any time for
the squadron's sake--for a squadron of Outram's Own is a unity to
marvel at, or envy; and its leader a man to be forgiven spurs a
half-inch longer than the regulation. As a soldier, however, he was
careful of himself when occasion offered.
Sikh-soldier-wise, he preferred Bagh to all other horses in the world,
because it had needed persuasion, much stroking of a black beard--to
hide anxiety--and many a secret night-ride--to sweat the brute's
savagery--before the colonel-sahib could be made to see his virtues as
a charger and accept him into the regiment. Sikh-wise, he loved all
things that expressed in any way his own unconquerable fire. Most of
all, however, he loved the squadron; there was no woman, nor anything
between him and D Squadron; but Bagh came next.
Spurs were not needed when the general ceased speaking, and the British
colonel of Outram's Own shouted an order. Bagh, brute energy beneath
hand-polished hair and plastered dirt, sprang like a loosed
Hell-tantrum, and his rider's lips drew tight over clenched teeth as he
mastered self, agony and horse in one man's effort. Fight how he would,
heel, tooth and eye all flashing, Bagh was forced to hold his rightful
place in front of the squadron, precisely the right distance behind the
last supernumerary of the squadron next in front.
Line after rippling line, all Sikhs of the true Sikh baptism except for
the eight of their officers who were European, Outram's Own swept down
a living avenue of British troops; and neither gunners nor infantry
could see one flaw in them, although picking flaws in native regiments
is almost part of the British army officer's religion.
To the blare of military music, through a bog of their own mixing, the
Sikhs trotted for a mile, then drew into a walk, to bring the horses
into barracks cool enough for watering.
They reached stables as the sun dipped under the near-by acacia trees,
and while the black-bearded troopers scraped and rubbed the mud from
weary horses, Ban | 155.771199 | 639 |
2023-11-16 18:18:22.5360850 | 1,232 | 419 |
Produced by Credits line so far: Punch, or the London
Charivari, Lisa Tang, Malcolm Farmer and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
Volume 93, October 8th 1887
_edited by Sir Francis Burnand_
[Illustration: OUR AMERICAN COUSIN AGAIN TO THE FRONT.]
* * * * *
THE BATTLE OF THE WAY.
_A Lay of Lake-land._
"Now, Lake-men, claim your right of way, and see the business done,
Come with your crowbar, spade, and pick;--and sure the battle's won,
For bolts and bars show SPEDDING'S race that you don't care a fig,
And prove that right's no match for might when rallied round Latrigg."
So shouted ROUTH-FITZPATRICK, and Lake-men with a cheer,
To Fawe Park Gates from Keswick's peaceful <DW72>s were drawing near,
When high upon the topmost wall as if to break the spell,
There uprose the Solicitor of Mrs. SPENCER BELL.
He spoke and as his voice he raised his arms he waved around,
"Beware," he cried, "what you're about, for this is private ground.
With sundry pains and penalties you'll surely be repaid,
Who dare to-day set hand to move this lawful barricade!"
But ROUTH-FITZPATRICK heeded not his protest, nor replied;
So Mrs. BELL'S Solicitor, he promptly stood aside,
And watched the next proceedings with a disapproving frown,
For up went crow-bar, pick, and axe, and gate and bar went down.
Yes, 'neath the sturdy Lake-men's blows the barriers gave way,
And lo! in rushed the joyous thronging crowd without delay;
And some on foot, and some in drags, and some in waggons stowed,
Held on their way triumphantly down the disputed road.
So onward towards Silver Hill advanced the active host,
And cleared each wire fence away, and levelled every post;
And when with crowbar, pick, and axe, they'd made their purpose plain,
To Nichol Ending they returned in triumph once again.
Then Secretary JENKINSON uprose and spoke a word,
And said how by the sights that day his manly breast was stirred,
And how that, if on Saturday as they had now begun
They held their own, they might regard the fight already won.
And then a telegram from Mr. PLIMSOLL he read out,
The which the Lake-men greeted with a hearty answering shout;
And Mrs. BELL'S Solicitor retired from the field,
But with an ugly look that seemed to say, "We'll never yield!"
And so commenced the fray that day, and though we know, of course,
As everybody tells us, there's no remedy in force,
Still, if the Lake-men's pick and axe this matter sets at rest,
We must admit how ills to cure at Keswick they know best.
But which side wins or loses in the still impending fight,
Whether force of public freedom, or trick of legal right,
The eager world on-looking may have watched a deadlier fray,
But none more keen in contest than the Battle of the Way!
* * * * *
PARNELLITE PROVERB (_applied to the Baleful Balfour_).--Give him an
inch (of law) and he'll take a (National) League.
* * * * *
THE MORNING'S REFLECTIONS.
SCENE--_Breakfast-table of an Illustrious Statesman of stalwart
proportions and "Gladstonian" politics. Illustrious Statesman
discovered, admiringly perusing three closely-printed columns of
leading Morning Paper._
[Illustration]
_I. S._ (_soliloquising_). Hah! Really reads very well, _very_ well
indeed. Points neatly put, hits smartly delivered! They shan't call me
the "Champion Slugger" for nothing. American pugilist, named SULLIVAN,
original bearer of that honorific title, I believe. Should like to see
SULLIVAN. A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous--curious. _Not_ kind,
always, or JOSEPH and WILLIAM--but no matter.
Hm--m--m! Hm--m--m--m! Excellent! Sparklers calculated to illuminate
Lewes, startle Sussex, electrify the country. Slugging and sparkling
my specialities. One or two decent speakers about; "our distinguished
leader" can--distinguish, at great length and with considerable
verbosi--I mean eloquence. RANDOLPH can rattle, and MORLEY can pound,
and ROSEBERY twitter pleasantly. But they can't coruscate _and_ crush.
The power of the bolt, which at once shines and smashes, is
Jovian--not Rhodian, as DIZZY once nastily suggested. "My thunder,"
and I'm proud of it.
By the way, wonder what the _other_ "Thunderer" thinks of it. Touches
a tender chord, the chord of memory. Lost chord now, indeed. But no
matter, let's see.
[_Turns paper._
Hm--m--m! Hm--m--m--m! Hah! _Too_ bad! "His bludgeon, or | 155.855495 | 640 |
2023-11-16 18:18:22.6642100 | 373 | 91 |
Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by
Google Books (the University of California)
Transcriber's Notes:
1. Page scan source:
http://books.google.com/books?id=OmcpAQAAIAAJ
(the University of California)
2. The letter "a" with a macron above is represented by [=a].
IN THE PERMANENT WAY
In the
Permanent Way
BY
FLORA ANNIE STEEL
AUTHOR OF "ON THE FACE OF THE WATERS," ETC.
New York
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd.
1897
_All rights reserved_
Copyright, 1897,
By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
* * *
Set up and electrotyped, October, 1897.
Reprinted November, 1897.
Norwood Press
J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith
Norwood Mass. U.S.A.
CONTENTS
Shub'rat.
In the Permanent Way.
On the Second Story.
Glory-of-Woman.
At the Great Durbar.
The Blue-throated God.
A Tourist Ticket.
The King's Well.
Uma Himavutee.
Young Lochinvar.
A Bit of Land.
The Sorrowful Hour.
A Danger Signal.
Amor Vincit Omnia.
The Wings of a Dove.
The Swimmers.
The Fakeer's Drum.
At Her Beck and Call.
Music Hath Charms.
SHUB'RAT
I
The church | 155.98362 | 641 |
2023-11-16 18:18:22.8197380 | 999 | 395 |
Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Tony Towers and PG Distributed Proofreaders
THE EUROPEAN ANARCHY
By G. Lowes Dickinson
1916
CONTENTS
1. INTRODUCTION
Europe since the Fifteenth Century--Machiavellianism--Empire and the
Balance of Power
2. THE TRIPLE ALLIANCE AND THE ENTENTE
Belgian Dispatches of 1905-14.
3. GREAT BRITAIN
The Policy of Great Britain--Essentially an Overseas Power
4. FRANCE
The Policy of France since 1870--Peace and Imperialism--Conflicting
Elements
5. RUSSIA
The Policy of Russia--Especially towards Austria
6. AUSTRIA-HUNGARY
The Policy of Austria-Hungary--Especially towards the Balkans
7. GERMANY
The Policy of Germany--From 1866 to the Decade 1890-1900--A Change
8. OPINION IN GERMANY
German "Romanticism"--New Ambitions.
9. OPINION ABOUT GERMANY
Bourdon--Beyens--Cambon--Summary
10. GERMAN POLICY FROM THE DECADE 1890-1900
Relation to Great Britain--The Navy.
11. VAIN ATTEMPTS AT HARMONY
Great Britain's Efforts for Arbitration--Mutual Suspicion
12. EUROPE SINCE THE DECADE 1890-1900
13. GERMANY AND TURKEY
The Bagdad Railway
14. AUSTRIA AND THE BALKANS
15. MOROCCO
16. THE LAST YEARS
Before the War--The Outbreak of War
17. THE RESPONSIBILITY AND THE MORAL
The Pursuit of Power and Wealth
18. THE SETTLEMENT
19. THE CHANGE NEEDED
Change of Outlook and Change of System--An International
League--International Law and Control
THE EUROPEAN ANARCHY
1. _Introduction_.
In the great and tragic history of Europe there is a turning-point that
marks the defeat of the ideal of a world-order and the definite acceptance
of international anarchy. That turning-point is the emergence of the
sovereign State at the end of the fifteenth century. And it is symbolical
of all that was to follow that at that point stands, looking down the
vista of the centuries, the brilliant and sinister figure of Machiavelli.
From that date onwards international policy has meant Machiavellianism.
Sometimes the masters of the craft, like Catherine de Medici or Napoleon,
have avowed it; sometimes, like Frederick the Great, they have disclaimed
it. But always they have practised it. They could not, indeed, practise
anything else. For it is as true of an aggregation of States as of an
aggregation of individuals that, whatever moral sentiments may prevail, if
there is no common law and no common force the best intentions will be
defeated by lack of confidence and security. Mutual fear and mutual
suspicion, aggression masquerading as defence and defence masquerading as
aggression, will be the protagonists in the bloody drama; and there will
be, what Hobbes truly asserted to be the essence of such a situation, a
chronic state of war, open or veiled. For peace itself will be a latent
war; and the more the States arm to prevent a conflict the more certainly
will it be provoked, since to one or another it will always seem a better
chance to have it now than to have it on worse conditions later. Some
one State at any moment may be the immediate offender; but the main and
permanent offence is common to all States. It is the anarchy which they
are all responsible for perpetuating.
While this anarchy continues the struggle between States will tend to
assume a certain stereotyped form. One will endeavour to acquire supremacy
over the others for motives at once of security and of domination, the
others will combine to defeat it, and history will turn upon the two poles
of empire and the balance of power. So it has been in Europe, and so it
will continue to be, until either empire is achieved, as once it was
achieved by Rome, or a common law and a common authority is established
by agreement. In the past empire over Europe has been sought by Spain,
by Austria, and by France; and soldiers, politicians, and professors in
Germany have sought, and seek, to secure it now for Germany. On the other
hand, Great Britain has long stood, as | 156.139148 | 642 |
2023-11-16 18:18:22.9452770 | 1,146 | 426 |
Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
THE BOY SCOUTS
AT THE CANADIAN BORDER
By LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON
Author of
“The Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol,” “The Boy Scouts on the Range,”
“The Boy Scouts’ Mountain Camp,” “The Boy Scouts for Uncle Sam,” “The
Boy Scouts at the Panama Canal,” “The Boy Scouts and the Army Airship,”
“The Boy Scouts with the Allies in France,” “The Boy Scouts on Belgian
Battlefields,” “The Boy Scouts Under Fire in Mexico,” “The Boy Scouts
at the Panama-Pacific Exposition,” “The Boy Scouts’ Campaign for
Preparedness,” “The Boy Scouts Under Sealed Orders,” “The Boy Scouts’
Badge of Courage,” etc.
A. L. BURT COMPANY
Publishers New York
Printed in U. S. A.
Copyright, 1918, by
Hurst & Co., Inc.
Printed in U. S. A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. A Glimpse over into Canada 5
II. Rumblings of Coming Trouble 19
III. By Aeroplane Across the Border 30
IV. An Invasion of the Camp 42
V. Comforting Tubby 54
VI. The Logging Camp 66
VII. An Unwelcome Intruder 78
VIII. Tubby Has an Adventure 91
IX. The Man Outside 104
X. Neatly Done 114
XI. Zeb Makes Good 129
XII. A Scout’s First Duty 142
XIII. A Thrilling Discovery 154
XIV. Rob Makes Up His Mind 166
XV. On Duty Bent 178
XVI. The Stone Cairn on the Border 190
XVII. Lynx Law 202
XVIII. The Trail to the Trestle 214
XIX. The Hunt for the Wire 226
XX. The Munition Train’s Approach 238
XXI. Cutting the Battery Connections 250
XXII. Like Old Times for the Scouts 260
XXIII. In Swift Pursuit 272
XXIV. Those Who Sat by the Fire 284
XXV. Bad Luck, and Good 296
XXVI. Everybody Satisfied 308
The Boy Scouts at the Canadian Border
CHAPTER I
A GLIMPSE OVER INTO CANADA
“Suppose we hold up here, and rest a bit, fellows!”
“We’ll have to accommodate you, Tubby. It really pains me to hear you
puffing and blowing so hard.”
“Now, that’s just six words for me and half a dozen for yourself, Andy
Bowles. Haven’t I seen you look longingly at every log we passed, as if
you wished Rob would give the order to sit down and recuperate? Honest
to goodness, I do own up that I’m a trifle winded. This pack seems to
keep on getting heavier and heavier.”
“You only imagine it does, Tubby, that’s all. If a fellow is shaped like
a wash-tub, what else could you expect of him when it comes to toting a
load of duffle and grub over a Maine carry?”
“And when another angular chap I know is said to resemble a
broom-handle, so far as symmetry and plumpness goes, you’ve got to
expect that his greatest feats are accomplished when grub is served.
That’s a time, Andy Bowles, bugler of the Hampton Troop of Boy Scouts,
when you make competition throw up its hands in despair and retire from
the field; your capacity in that line is without a peer.”
“That’s right, Tubby, take a swig of water from your battered old
canteen after such a spread-eagle speech. I’m sure your throat must be
parched, and as dry as a bone.”
“Here, fellows, suppose you let up badgering each other; and after we
drop down on this log in the little open glade, what’s to hinder us from
figuring out our next move in the search for Tubby’s Uncle George?”
The energetic speaker was Rob Blake. Those fortunate boys who have read
any or all of the preceding volumes in this Series, do not need to be
introduced to so prominent a character of the stories; but, of course,
there will be many who are making the acquaintance of these wearers of
khaki for the first time, and in justice to them it is only fair that we
offer a few explanations while the trio stretch themselves upon that
friendly pine log.
They all belonged to the famous Eagle Patrol of the Hampton Troop of Boy
Scouts, Hampton being a Long Island town on the south shore. In times
gone by many were the interesting happenings that came the way of some
of the fellows belonging to that patrol. To even enumerate them here
would take too long a time, and hence he who is desirous of knowing more
about Rob Blake and his chums is referred to earlier | 156.264687 | 643 |
2023-11-16 18:18:23.4178130 | 1,049 | 667 |
Produced by Chris Curnow, Joseph Cooper, Moti Ben-Ari and
the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net
[Illustration: Cover]
THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY
JOHN EVELYN
THE HISTORY
OF
SABATAI SEVI,
_The Suppos'd Messiah_
OF THE JEWS.
(1669)
_Introduction by_
CHRISTOPHER W. GROSE
PUBLICATION NUMBER 131
WILLIAM ANDREWS CLARK MEMORIAL LIBRARY
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, LOS ANGELES
1968
GENERAL EDITORS
George Robert Guffey, _University of California, Los Angeles_
Maximillian E. Novak, _University of California, Los Angeles_
Robert Vosper, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_
ADVISORY EDITORS
Richard C. Boys, _University of Michigan_
James L. Clifford, _Columbia University_
Ralph Cohen, _University of Virginia_
Vinton A. Dearing, _University of California, Los Angeles_
Arthur Friedman, _University of Chicago_
Louis A. Landa, _Princeton University_
Earl Miner, _University of California, Los Angeles_
Samuel H. Monk, _University of Minnesota_
Everett T. Moore, _University of California, Los Angeles_
Lawrence Clark Powell, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_
James Sutherland, _University College, London_
H. T. Swedenberg, Jr., _University of California, Los Angeles_
CORRESPONDING SECRETARY
Edna C. Davis, _William Andrews Clark Memorial Library_
INTRODUCTION
_And you should if you please refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews._
The reader of John Evelyn's _History of Sabatai Sevi, The Pretended
Messiah of the Jewes_ or of the _History of the Three Late Famous
Impostors_ (1669) in which it is the most significant part, discovers a
fascinating, if unoriginal, addition to the work of the great diarist
and dilettante, the amateur student of engraving and trees--and smoke.
Evelyn's work was almost totally derived from the account of Sir Paul
Rycaut, who was from 1661 secretary (and later consul) for the Levant
mercantile company in Smyrna. Rycaut was in fact responsible for what
first-hand reporting there is in the _History_, and Evelyn's book
preceded by only eleven years Rycaut's _History of the Turkish Empire
1623-1677_, where the story first appeared under the author's own name.
What gives Evelyn's _Pretended Messiah_ its own interest is partly the
immediacy of the news of Sabatai Sevi, and partly the context in which
Evelyn places the story, a context to some extent indicated in the
title, _History of the Three Late Famous Impostors_. When the work was
published in 1669, Sevi was neither the amusing curiosity he is likely
to be for the modern reader, nor the impertinent confidence man
suggested by Evelyn's "impostor." Evelyn was reviewing for an English
audience one of the great crises in Jewish history, the career of the
man who has been called Judaism's "most notorious messianic
claimant."[1] That career was not entirely past history in 1669. Sevi
lived until 1675, and even after his humiliation and final banishment in
1673 he could write to his father-in-law in Salonica that men would see
in his lifetime the day of redemption and the return of the Jews to
Zion; "For God hath appointed me Lord of all Mizrayim."[2] Indeed, a
remnant of Judaeo-Turkish Shabbethaians called Doenmehs apparently
exists in Salonica to the present day.
Whatever the appeal of Sevi's story may be for modern readers--as a mode
of fiction, perhaps, or an instance of mass hysteria--Evelyn's discovery
of an exemplum for religious and political enthusiasts may seem forced
or reductive. In 1669, however, the interest of Englishmen in Jewish
affairs was by no means merely academic--or narrowly commercial. There
were, it is true, English sportsmen in 1666 who were actually betting on
the Sevi career--ten to one that the "Messiah of Ismir" would be crowned
King of Jerusalem within two years. And what was most disturbing about
Sevi to the English nation as a whole was perhaps the disruption of
trade, in which Sevi's father was intimately involved, as the agent of
an English mercantile house. At the height of the fur | 156.737223 | 644 |
2023-11-16 18:18:23.7661090 | 1,130 | 375 |
Produced by Martin Adamson. HTML version by Al Haines.
AN ENEMY OF THE PEOPLE
by
Henrik Ibsen
Translated by R. Farquharson Sharp
AN ENEMY OF THE PEOPLE
A play in five acts
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Dr. Thomas Stockmann, Medical Officer of the Municipal Baths.
Mrs. Stockmann, his wife.
Petra (their daughter) a teacher.
Ejlif & Morten (their sons, aged 13 and 10 respectively).
Peter Stockmann (the Doctor's elder brother), Mayor of the
Town and Chief Constable, Chairman of the Baths' Committee, etc.
Morten Kiil, a tanner (Mrs. Stockmann's adoptive father).
Hovstad, editor of the "People's Messenger."
Billing, sub-editor.
Captain Horster.
Aslaksen, a printer.
Men of various conditions and occupations, a few women, and a troop of
schoolboys--the audience at a public meeting.
The action takes place in a coastal town in southern Norway,
AN ENEMY OF THE PEOPLE
ACT I
(SCENE.--DR. STOCKMANN'S sitting-room. It is evening. The room is
plainly but neatly appointed and furnished. In the right-hand wall are
two doors; the farther leads out to the hall, the nearer to the
doctor's study. In the left-hand wall, opposite the door leading to the
hall, is a door leading to the other rooms occupied by the family. In
the middle of the same wall stands the stove, and, further forward, a
couch with a looking-glass hanging over it and an oval table in front
of it. On the table, a lighted lamp, with a lampshade. At the back of
the room, an open door leads to the dining-room. BILLING is seen
sitting at the dining table, on which a lamp is burning. He has a
napkin tucked under his chin, and MRS. STOCKMANN is standing by the
table handing him a large plate-full of roast beef. The other places at
the table are empty, and the table somewhat in disorder, evidently a
meal having recently been finished.)
Mrs. Stockmann. You see, if you come an hour late, Mr. Billing, you
have to put up with cold meat.
Billing (as he eats). It is uncommonly good, thank you--remarkably good.
Mrs. Stockmann. My husband makes such a point of having his meals
punctually, you know.
Billing. That doesn't affect me a bit. Indeed, I almost think I enjoy a
meal all the better when I can sit down and eat all by myself, and
undisturbed.
Mrs. Stockmann. Oh well, as long as you are enjoying it--. (Turns to
the hall door, listening.) I expect that is Mr. Hovstad coming too.
Billing. Very likely.
(PETER STOCKMANN comes in. He wears an overcoat and his official hat,
and carries a stick.)
Peter Stockmann. Good evening, Katherine.
Mrs. Stockmann (coming forward into the sitting-room). Ah, good
evening--is it you? How good of you to come up and see us!
Peter Stockmann. I happened to be passing, and so--(looks into the
dining-room). But you have company with you, I see.
Mrs. Stockmann (a little embarrassed). Oh, no--it was quite by chance
he came in. (Hurriedly.) Won't you come in and have something, too?
Peter Stockmann. I! No, thank you. Good gracious--hot meat at night!
Not with my digestion.
Mrs. Stockmann. Oh, but just once in a way--
Peter Stockmann. No, no, my dear lady; I stick to my tea and bread and
butter. It is much more wholesome in the long run--and a little more
economical, too.
Mrs. Stockmann (smiling). Now you mustn't think that Thomas and I are
spendthrifts.
Peter Stockmann. Not you, my dear; I would never think that of you.
(Points to the Doctor's study.) Is he not at home?
Mrs. Stockmann. No, he went out for a little turn after supper--he and
the boys.
Peter Stockmann. I doubt if that is a wise thing to do. (Listens.) I
fancy I hear him coming now.
Mrs. Stockmann. No, I don't think it is he. (A knock is heard at the
door.) Come in! (HOVSTAD comes in from the hall.) Oh, it is you, Mr.
Hovstad!
Hovstad. Yes, I hope you will forgive me, but I was delayed at the
printers. Good evening, Mr. Mayor.
Peter Stockmann (bowing a little distantly). Good evening. You have
come on business, no doubt.
Hovstad. Partly. It's about an article for the paper.
Peter Stockmann. So I imagined. I hear my brother has become a prolific
contributor to the "People's Messenger."
Hovstad. Yes, he is good enough to write in the "People's Messenger"
when he | 157.085519 | 645 |
2023-11-16 18:18:23.7662440 | 1,009 | 419 |
Transcribed from the 1899 Grant Richards edition by David Price, email
[email protected]
[Picture: Book cover]
A DUET
WITH AN OCCASIONAL CHORUS
BY
A. CONAN DOYLE
[Picture: Decorative graphic]
* * * * *
LONDON
GRANT RICHARDS
9 HENRIETTA STREET
1899
* * * * *
Edinburgh: T. and A CONSTABLE, Printers to Her Majesty
* * * * *
TO
MRS. MAUDE CROSSE
DEAR MAUDE,—All the little two-oared boats which put out into the great
ocean have need of some chart which will show them how to lay their
course. Each starts full of happiness and confidence, and yet we know
how many founder, for it is no easy voyage, and there are rocks and
sandbanks upon the way. So I give a few pages of your own private log,
which tell of days of peace, and days of storm—such storms as seem very
petty from the deck of a high ship, but are serious for the two-oared
boats. If your peace should help another to peace, or your storm console
another who is storm-tossed, then I know that you will feel repaid for
this intrusion upon your privacy. May all your voyage be like the
outset, and when at last the oars fall from your hands, and those of
Frank, may other loving ones be ready to take their turn of toil—and so,
_bon voyage_!
Ever your friend,
THE AUTHOR.
_Jan._ 20, 1899.
CONTENTS
PAGE
THE OVERTURE 1
THE OVERTURE CONTINUED 9
THE OVERTURE CONCLUDED 24
THE TWO SOLOS 34
IN BRITAIN’S VALHALLA 48
TWO SOLOS AND A DUET 71
KEEPING UP APPEARANCES 88
THE HOME-COMING 100
LAYING A COURSE 112
CONFESSIONS 128
CONCERNING MRS. BEETON 146
MR. SAMUEL PEPYS 158
A VISIT TO MR. SAMUEL PEPYS 170
TROUBLE 185
A RESCUE 204
THE BROWNING SOCIETY 218
AN INVESTMENT 236
A THUNDERCLOUD 251
DANGER 269
NO. 5 CHEYNE ROW 290
THE LAST NOTE OF THE DUET 311
THE TRIO 326
THE OVERTURE
I
ABOUT THAT DATE
THESE are the beginnings of some of the letters which they wrote about
that time.
_Woking_, _May_ 20_th_.
MY DEAREST MAUDE,—You know that your mother suggested, and we agreed,
that we should be married about the beginning of September. Don’t you
think that we might say the 3rd of August? It is a Wednesday, and in
every sense suitable. Do try to change the date, for it would in many
ways be preferable to the other. I shall be eager to hear from you about
it. And now, dearest Maude... (The rest is irrelevant.)
_St. Albans_, _May_ 22_nd_.
My Dearest Frank,—Mother sees no objection to the 3rd of August, and I am
ready to do anything which will please you and her. Of course there are
the guests to be considered, and the dressmakers and other arrangements,
but I have no doubt that we shall be able to change the date all right.
O Frank... (What follows is beside the point.)
_Woking_, _May_ 25_th_.
MY DEAREST MAUDE,—I have been thinking over that change of date, and I
see one objection which had not occurred to me when I suggested it.
August the 1st is Bank holiday, and travelling is not very pleasant about
that time. My idea now is that we should bring it off before that date.
Fancy, for example, how unpleasant it would be for your Uncle Joseph if
he had to travel all the way from Edinburgh with a Bank-holiday crowd.
It would be selfish of us if we did not fit in our plans so as to save
our relatives from inconvenience. I think therefore, taking everything
into consideration, that the 20th of July | 157.085654 | 646 |
2023-11-16 18:18:24.0058470 | 1,317 | 320 |
Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 109.
SEPTEMBER 7, 1895.
THAT POOR PENNY DREADFUL!
["Is the 'Penny Dreadful' and its influence so very dreadful, I
wonder?"--JAMES PAYN.]
Alas! for the poor "Penny Dreadful"!
They say if a boy gets his head-full
Of terrors and crimes,
_He_ turns pirate--sometimes;
Or of horrors, at least, goes to bed full.
Now _is_ this according to Cocker?
Of Beaks one would not be a mocker,
But _do_ many lads
Turn thieves or foot-pads,
Through reading the cheap weekly Shocker?
Such literature is _not_ healthy;
But _does_ it make urchins turn stealthy
Depleters of tills,
Destroyers of wills,
Or robbers of relatives wealthy?
I have gloated o'er many a duel,
I've heard of DON PEDRO the Cruel:
Heart pulsing at high rate,
I've read how my Pirate
Gave innocent parties their gruel.
Yet I have ne'er felt a yearning
For stabbing, or robbing, or burning.
No highwayman clever
And handsome, has ever
Induced _me_ to take the wrong turning!
A lad who's a natural "villing,"
When reading of robbing and killing
_May_ feel wish to do so;
But SHEPPARD--like CRUSOE--
To your average boy's only "thrilling."
Ah! thousands on Shockers have fed full,
And yet _not_ of crimes got a head-full.
Let us put down the vile,
Yet endeavour the while,
To be _just_ to the poor "Penny Dreadful"!
* * * * *
[Illustration: EVIDENT.
_George._ "EH--HE'S A BIG 'UN; AIN'T HE, JACK?"
_Minister_ (_overhearing_). "YES, MY LAD; BUT IT'S NOT WITH EATING AND
DRINKING!"
_Jack._ "I'LL LAY IT'S NOT ALL WI' FASTIN' AN' PRAYIN'!"]
* * * * *
FOR WHEEL OR WOE.
The Rural District Council at Chester resolved recently to station
men on the main roads leading into the city to count the number
of cyclists, with a view to estimating what revenue would accrue
from a cycle tax. Extremely high and public-spirited of the Chester
authorities to take the matter up. These dwellers by the Dee ought to
adopt as their motto, "The wheel has come full cycle."
* * * * *
"WHO IS SYLVIA?"--An opera, from the pen of Dr. JOSEPH PARRY, the
famous Welsh composer, entitled _Sylvia_, has been successfully
produced at the Cardiff Theatre Royal. The _libretto_ is by Mr.
FLETCHER and Mr. MENDELSSOHN PARRY, the _maestro's_ son, so that the
entire production is quite _parry-mutuel_.
* * * * *
THE RAILWAY RACE.
[Illustration]
A new British sport has arisen, or rather has, after a seven years'
interval, been revived within the last week or so, and the British
sporting reporter, so well-known for his ready supply of vivid and
picturesque metaphor, has, as usual, risen to the occasion. That large
and growing class of sedentary "sportsmen," whose athletic proclivities
are confined to the perusal of betting news, have now a fresh item
of interest to discuss in the performances of favourite and rival
locomotives. More power has been added to the elbows of the charming
and vociferous youths, who push their way through the London streets
with the too familiar cry of "Win-nerr!" (which, by the way, has quite
superseded that of "Evening Piper!"). And the laborious persons who
assiduously compile "records" have enough work to do to keep pace with
their daily growing collection. Even the mere "Man in the Street" knows
the amount of rise in the Shap Fell and Potter's Bar gradients, though
possibly, if you cross-question him, he could not tell you where they
are. However, the great daily and evening papers are fully alive to the
occasion, and the various sporting "Majors" and "Prophets" are well to
the fore with such "pars" as the following:--
Flying Buster, that smart and rakish yearling from the Crewe stud, was
out at exercise last evening with a light load of eighty tons, and did
some very satisfactory trials.
* * * * *
Invicta, the remarkably speedy East Coast seven-year-old, made a very
good show in her run from Grantham to York yesterday. She covered the
80-1/2 miles in 78 minutes with Driver TOMKINS up, and a weight of some
120 tons, without turning a hair. She looked extremely well-trained,
and I compliment her owners on her appearance.
* * * * *
Really something ought to be done with certain of the Southern
starters. I will name no names, but I noticed one the other day whose
pace was more like thirty hours a mile than thirty miles an hour. I
have heard of donkey-engines, and this one would certainly win a donkey
race.
* * * * *
These long-distance races are, no doubt, excellent tests for the
strength and stamina of our leading cross-country "flyers," but I
must enter a protest against the | 157.325257 | 647 |
2023-11-16 18:18:24.0260720 | 921 | 114 | Project Gutenberg Etext of Evolution and Ethics and Other Essays
#30 in our series by Thomas H. Huxley
Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check
the laws for your country before redistributing 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.
Please do not remove this.
This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book.
Do not change or edit it without written permission. The words
are carefully chosen to provide users with the information they
need about what they can legally do with the texts.
**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.
Presently, contributions are only being solicited from people in:
Texas, Nevada, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota,
Iowa, Indiana, and Vermont. As the requirements for other states
are met, additions to this list will be made and fund raising will
begin in the additional states. These donations should be made to:
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
PMB 113
1739 University Ave.
Oxford, MS 38655
Title: Evolution and Ethics and Other Essays
EVOLUTION AND ETHICS. PROLEGOMENA
EVOLUTION AND ETHICS
SCIENCE AND MORALS
CAPITAL--THE MOTHER OF LABOUR
SOCIAL DISEASES AND WORSE REMEDIES
The Struggle for Existence in Human Society
Letters to the Times
Legal Opinions
The Articles of War of the Salvation Army
Author: Thomas H. Huxley
Release Date: November, 2001 [Etext #2940]
[Most recently updated November 3, 2002]
Edition: 10
Project Gutenberg Etext of Evolution and Ethics and Other Essays
******This file should be named 2940.txt or 2940.zip******
Scanned and edited by T. Dave Gowan for Project Gutenberg
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 year in advance
of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
Please be encouraged to send us error messages even years after
the official publication date.
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.
Most people start at our sites at:
http://gutenberg.net
http://promo.net/pg
Those of you who want to download any Etext before announcement
can surf to them as follows, and just download by date; this is
also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.
http://metalab.unc.edu/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext01
or
ftp://metalab.unc.edu/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext01
Or /etext00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90
Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
as it appears in our Newsletters.
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 nomin | 157.345482 | 648 |
2023-11-16 18:18:24.1511450 | 4,084 | 34 |
Produced by Charles Franks, Christopher Lund and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team
JACK OF THE PONY EXPRESS
Or
The Young Rider of the Mountain Trails
By
FRANK V. WEBSTER
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. JACK IN THE SADDLE
II. POSTMISTRESS JENNIE
III. A NARROW ESCAPE
IV. IMPORTANT LETTERS
V. JUST IN TIME
VI. THE SECRET MINE
VII. THE STRANGERS AGAIN
VIII. A NIGHT ATTACK
IX. IN BONDS
X. A QUEER DISCOVERY
XI. DUMMY LETTERS
XII. A RIDE FOR LIFE
XIII. THE INSPECTOR
XIV. THE CHASE
XV. A CAUTION
XVI. SUNGER GOES LAME
XVII. AN INVITATION DECLINED
XVIII. A QUEER FEELING
XIX A DESPERATE RIDE
XX. AT GOLDEN CROSSING
XXI. THE ARGENT LETTERS
XXII. THE MASKED MAN
XXIII. THE ESCAPE
XXIV. JACK'S IDEA
XXV. JACK'S TRICK--CONCLUSION
CHAPTER I
JACK IN THE SADDLE
"Your father is a little late to-night, isn't he Jack?"
"Yes, Mrs. Watson, he should have been here a half-hour ago, and he would,
too, if he had ridden Sunger instead of his own horse."
"You think a lot of that pony of yours, don't you, Jack?" and a
motherly-looking woman came to the doorway of a small cottage and peered
up the mountain trail, which ran in front of the building. Out on the
trail itself stood a tall, bronzed lad, who was, in fact, about seventeen
years of age, but whose robust frame and athletic build made him appear
several years older.
"Yes, Mrs. Watson," the boy answered with a smile, "I do think a lot of
Sunger, and he's worth it, too."
"Yes, I guess he is. And he can travel swiftly, too. My goodness! The way
you sometimes clatter past my house makes me think you'll sure have an
accident. Sometimes I'm so nervous I can't look at you."
"Sunger is pretty sure-footed, even on worse mountain trails than the one
from Rainbow Ridge to Golden Crossing," answered Jack with a laugh, that
showed his white, even teeth, which formed a strange contrast to his tanned
face.
"Sunger," repeated Mrs. Watson, musingly. "What an odd name. I often wonder
how you came to call him that."
"It isn't his real name," explained Jack, as he gave another look up the
trail over which the rays of the declining sun were shining, and then
walked up to the porch, where he sat down. "The pony was once owned by a
Mexican miner, and he named him something in Spanish which meant that the
little horse could go so fast that he dodged the sun. Sundodger was what
the name would be in English, I suppose, and after I bought him that's what
I called him.
"But Sundodger is too much of a mouthful when one's in a hurry," and Jack
laughed at his idea, "so," he went on, "I shortened it to Sunger, which
does just as well."
"Yes, as long as he knows it," agreed Mrs. Watson. "But I guess, Jack, I
had better be going, I did think I'd wait until your father came, and put
the supper on for you both, but he's so late now--"
"Yes, Mrs. Watson, don't wait," interrupted Jack. "I don't know what to
make of dad's being so late. But we're used to getting our own meals, so
you needn't worry. We'll get along all right."
"Oh, I know you will. For two men--for you are getting so big I shall have
to call you a man," and she smiled at him. "For two men you really get
along very well indeed."
"Yes, I'm getting to be something of a cook myself," admitted the lad. "But
I can't quite equal your biscuits yet, and there's no use saying I can.
However, you baked a pretty good batch this afternoon, and dad sure will be
pleased when he sees 'em. I wish he'd come while they're hot though," and
once more Jack Bailey arose and went out to peer up the trail. He listened
intently, but his sharp senses caught no sound of clattering hoofs, nor
sight of a horseman coming down the <DW72>, a good view of which could be
had from in front of the house that stood on a bend in the road.
"Well, then, I'll be getting along," Mrs. Watson resumed, as she threw a
shawl over her shoulders, for, though the day had been warm, there was a
coolness in the mountain air with the coming of night. "Everything is all
ready to dish-up" went on the motherly-looking woman, as she went out of
the front gate, "The chicken is hot on the back of the stove."
"Oh, we'll make out all right, thank you," called Jack after her, as she
started down the trail. Mrs. Watson lived about a quarter of a mile away.
Her husband was a miner, and she had a grown daughter, so it was quite
convenient for Mrs. Watson to come over twice a week, or oftener on
occasions, and do the housework in the cottage where Mr. Peter Bailey and
his son Jack lived. Mrs. Watson would do the sweeping, dusting and as much
cooking as she had time for, and then go back to her own home.
Jack's mother was dead, and he and his father had managed for some years
without the services of a housekeeper. Mr. Bailey was a pony express rider,
carrying the mail and small express packages between the settlements of
Rainbow Ridge and Golden Crossing. Mr. Bailey and Jack lived on the
outskirts of Rainbow Ridge.
This was in the Rocky Mountain country of one of our western states, and
the trails were so wild and winding, and, for that matter, so unsafe, that
it was out of the question to use a mail or stage coach between the two
places.
From Rainbow Ridge, however, there was a stage route going east, which took
the mail and express matter as it was brought in by Mr. Bailey. And from
Golden Crossing going west the same arrangement was made. Golden Crossing
was a settlement on the banks of the Ponto River, a small enough stream in
ordinary times, but which was wild and dangerous during heavy rains or
freshets.
So the pony express, as run by Mr. Bailey, was the only regular means of
communication between Golden Crossing and Rainbow Ridge. It was of
importance, too, for often valuable mail and packages went through, the
route being shorter and quicker than by a roundabout stage line.
When Mrs. Watson was out of sight around a bend in the trail, Jack went
into the cottage. It really was a cottage, though when Mr. Bailey first
brought his family to the West it had been but a cabin, or shack. But Mr.
Bailey and his wife had labored hard to make it more of a "home," and they
had succeeded very well. Then came the sad occasion of Mrs. Bailey's
illness and death, and for a time life had seemed very hard to Jack and his
father.
The latter had been interested in mines, but found the work too difficult
with his failing health, so he had secured the pony express contract, which
he had carried on now for several years.
"It certainly is a shame to have this fine supper spoil," mused Jack, as he
lifted the cover from a pot of chicken, and glanced at the pile of browned
biscuit in the warming oven.
"I can't understand what makes dad so late," he went on. "Of course, the
mail from the Golden Crossing office might not have been ready for him to
take. It's been pretty heavy of late, and is almost more than Aunt Matilda
can handle. Though I suppose Jennie gives her a hand now and then," and as
he said that Jack looked at the photograph on the mantel of an attractive
girl, who seemed to smile at him. Jack looked cautiously around the room,
and then raised a hand to his lips and threw a kiss from the tips of his
fingers at the picture.
This done he blushed--but you would not have known it, he was so bronzed by
the sun and the wind. Mrs. Matilda Blake was a distant relative of Mr.
Bailey's, and Jack called her "Aunt Matilda," though she really did not
bear that relationship to him. She was a widow, and she and her only
daughter, Jennie, a girl of about sixteen, lived in Golden Crossing, where
Mrs. Blake was postmistress. Jack and Jennie were the best of friends.
"Well, if dad doesn't come pretty soon, I'm going to eat," decided Jack.
"He won't mind, I'm sure. But I would like to know what's keeping him. I
hope he hasn't had any accident. His pony is sure-footed, I know, but I'd
feel better if he had Sunger."
Jack was plainly nervous--that is as nervous as a young, healthy lad can
be. He went outside again, and walked a little way back along the trail
over which his father would come. But the trail seemed deserted. The Bailey
cottage was in a rather lonely location, there being no other habitation in
sight.
There were other houses not far away, and a number in the town, but because
of the winding nature of the trail, and the ruggedness of the mountains,
they could not be seen from where Jack stood.
As the lad was about to turn back and again enter the cottage with the
determination to eat his supper, he heard something which caused him to
start.
"Here he comes!" he exclaimed. "But he's walking his horse! That's queer!
Something must have happened!"
Speed was one of the prime requisites of the pony express. The men who rode
the routes over plains and mountain trails secured the speediest horses or
ponies possible. Their life, when in the saddle, was a continual rush, for
the mail and express matter must go through as quickly as possible, and
where no steam and railroads were available recourse was had to horseflesh.
And knowing the value of speed Jack wondered when he heard the approach of
a horse at a walking pace.
Mr. Bailey was supposed to arrive at Rainbow Ridge in time to deliver his
express and mail matter to the night stage coach going east, and the hour
for its leaving had passed some time since. Of course, the stage would wait
for the pony express, but this meant a delay all along the rest of the
route.
"Something sure must have happened!" said Jack to himself. "I'll go to meet
dad."
He set off on foot, but came running back.
"I'll get Sunger," he told himself, speaking aloud, a habit engendered by
the loneliness of the mountains. "He's quite a way off yet, but Sunger will
make short work of the distance."
Though the sound of the approaching footsteps of the horse of the pony
express rider could be plainly heard by Jack, so clear and resonant was the
mountain air, he realized that his father had yet nearly half a mile to
travel.
Leaping to the saddle of his pony, and patting the animal lovingly on the
neck, Jack set off once more. He went quickly, for Sunger was fresh and
eager.
In a few minutes Jack turned at a place where the trail followed a great
rocky ledge, and in front of him, almost collapsed in the saddle was a man.
He seemed to sit on his horse only by a great effort, and on his face was a
drawn look of pain.
"Why, Dad!" cried Jack. "What's the matter? Has anything happened? Did they
hold up the mail?"
"No, the mail and other stuff is all right," was the answer, broken by an
exclamation of pain. "But I'm all in, Jack. I'm afraid I'm going to be
quite ill. It was all I could do to ride the last few miles, but I wouldn't
give in."
Jack was at his father's side in an instant.
"Get on Sunger," he urged. "He's easier for you to ride. Let me help you.
What is the trouble? How did it happen?"
"I don't know, Jack, my boy. But I won't change horses. I can keep on until
I get to the cabin. Here, you take the mail and express and ride on with it
to the stage. I'll keep on toward home. Come back as soon as you can, and
you--you'd better bring the doctor with you!" he faltered.
CHAPTER II
POSTMISTRESS JENNIE
For a moment Jack Bailey did not know what to do. He looked at his father,
who was evidently quite ill and suffering much pain. Then the lad glanced
at the bags of mail and small express matter which lay over the saddle in
front of Mr. Bailey.
"Take the mail, Jack, my boy!" the pony express rider exclaimed, with an
effort. "Take the mail, so the stage can get off. I'm late now, but I
couldn't make the trail any faster. Get the mail through, and then stop and
bring a doctor back with you if he'll come."
"But I can't go away and leave you like this, Dad!"
"You must, Jack!"
"But you're too ill!"
"That can't be helped. The mail and express must go through on time if I'm
to keep the contract. And I certainly don't want to lose it. I'll manage to
get to the cottage. Once there, I can sit down, and if I get a cup of hot
tea I may feel better. It seems to be acute indigestion, though I don't
remember eating anything that didn't agree with me. But ride on, Jack. And
don't worry. I'll get to the cottage all right and be there when you come
back."
"All right, Dad! I'll do it. But I sure do hate to leave you like this!"
"It's better than having the mail delayed. Ride on. Explain to Jed Monty
how it is. I think Jed takes the stage out to-night."
"Yes, he does. I'll tell him."
Jack quickly transferred to his own saddle the bags of mail and express
matter. Mr. Bailey seemed easier now, though there was still that look of
pain on his face.
"Come on, Sunger," called the lad to his pony. "We've got to make time!"
The intelligent and beautiful animal whinnied as if he understood. Then,
with a fond and anxious look at his father, Jack wheeled about and set off
down the trail at a gallop, Mr. Bailey going on more slowly, for every
motion of his horse gave him pain.
Jack was soon out of sight around a bend of the trail. He flashed past his
cottage, and thought with satisfaction that there was hot water on the
range, so his father could make himself a cup of tea.
Jack paused long enough at Mrs. Watson's cabin to tell her what was the
matter, and to inform her that he was taking the mail over the last mile of
the route into town.
"Your father ill!" exclaimed Mrs. Watson. "I'll go right over there, Jack,
and look after him."
"I wish you would. It will be awful good of you."
"Of course I'll go. Mary can look after things here," and she hurried into
the house to get ready for her second trip that day to the Bailey cottage.
Jack galloped on, trusting to the sure-footedness of his pony to avoid the
dangers of the rough mountain trail. And Sunger justified the confidence
reposed in him.
"Hello! We've been wondering what kept you! Why, it's Jack!" exclaimed Jed
Monty, the grizzled stage driver, as the lad galloped up to the Mansion
Hotel, whence the start for the east was made.
"Sorry to be late, but dad's taken sick!" cried Jack, as he flung the bags
to the driver.
"Sick, eh? That's too bad. Well, I guess I can make up the lost time.
Haven't much of a load on to-night."
The stage was all ready to start, the few passengers having been
impatiently waiting.
"Pile in!" cried Jed, and with a crack of his long whip he sent the four
horses off at a gallop.
Jack did not linger, but, wheeling his pony, set off for the doctor's
office, hoping he would find the physician in. He was fortunate in this
respect, and Dr. Brown promised to come at once. Jack did not wait for him,
however, but hastened back to the cottage.
There he found that Mrs. Watson had made his father some hot tea, which had
relieved him somewhat. The look of pain was not so apparent now.
"The doctor will be here right away," Jack reported. "Now tell me how it
happened, Dad. We were quite worried about you."
"Indeed we were, when you didn't come in on time, as you nearly always do,"
said Mrs. Watson.
"I can't tell just how it did happen," said the pony express rider, "but I
was taken with a sharp and sudden pain soon after leaving Golden Crossing.
I'd have turned back then, and gotten some one else to ride the route for
me, but I knew there were important letters in the mail, and it had to come
through. So I kept on, hoping I would get better. But I grew worse, and I
had to slow up. I thought I'd never get here! But I did." And he shut his
lips grimly.
Pony express riders have to be made of stern stuff and they have to keep on
their routes in rain or shine, calm or storm; and often when it is torture
to sit in the saddle on a galloping horse.
"You'd better get your supper, Jack," advised Mrs. Watson.
"No, I don't feel like eating," the lad objected.
"Yes, you'd better, son," said his father. "There's no telling what you may
have to do tonight, and it is possible you will have to ride for me
to-morrow, though I hope I'll be able. But eat, and keep up your strength."
This was good advice, and Jack realized it. So he sat down to the meal
which Mrs. Watson had prepared as a finish to | 157.470555 | 649 |
2023-11-16 18:18:24.2016170 | 1,157 | 429 |
Produced by Cline St. Charleskindt, Nick Wall 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 GREAT
K. & A. TRAIN-ROBBERY
[Illustration: Frontispiece]
The
Great
K. & A.
Robbery
[Illustration: Trains]
By
Paul Leicester Ford
Author of The Honorable Peter Stirling
New York
Dodd, Mead and Company
1897
_Copyright, 1896,_
BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY.
_Copyright, 1897,_
BY DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY.
University Press:
JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A.
TO
MY TRAVELLING COMPANIONS
ON SPECIALS 218 AND 97
THIS ENDEAVOR TO WEAVE INTO A STORY SOME OF OUR
OVERLAND HAPPENINGS AND ADVENTURES
IS GRATEFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED.
* * * * *
_TO MISS GEORGE BARKER GIBBS._
_My dear George_:
_At your request I originally inscribed this skit to our whole
party. In its republication, however, I can but feel that the
dedication should be more particular. Written because you asked
it, first read aloud to beguile our ride across the great
American desert, and finally printed because you wished a copy as
a souvenir of our journeyings, no one can so naturally be called
upon to stand sponsor to the little tale. Should the story but
give its readers a fraction of the pleasure I owe to your
kindness, its success is assured._
_Faithfully yours,_
_PAUL LEICESTER FORD._
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I THE PARTY ON SPECIAL NO. 218 1
II THE HOLDING-UP OF OVERLAND NO. 3 17
III A NIGHT'S WORK ON THE ALKALI PLAINS 30
IV SOME RATHER QUEER ROAD AGENTS 43
V A TRIP TO THE GRAND CANYON 55
VI THE HAPPENINGS DOWN HANCE'S TRAIL 69
VII A CHANGE OF BASE 82
VIII HOW DID THE SECRET LEAK OUT? 93
IX A TALK BEFORE BREAKFAST 107
X WAITING FOR HELP 118
XI THE LETTERS CHANGE HANDS AGAIN 130
XII AN EVENING IN JAIL 140
XIII A LESSON IN POLITENESS 153
XIV "LISTENERS NEVER HEAR ANYTHING GOOD" 165
XV THE SURRENDER OF THE LETTERS 175
XVI A GLOOMY GOOD-BY 186
THE
Great K. & A. Train-Robbery
CHAPTER I
THE PARTY ON SPECIAL NO. 218
Any one who hopes to find in what is here written a work of
literature had better lay it aside unread. At Yale I should have
got the sack in rhetoric and English composition, let alone other
studies, had it not been for the fact that I played half-back on
the team, and so the professors marked me away up above where I
ought to have ranked. That was twelve years ago, but my life
since I received my parchment has hardly been of a kind to
improve me in either style or grammar. It is true that one woman
tells me I write well, and my directors never find fault with my
compositions; but I know that she likes my letters because,
whatever else they may say to her, they always say in some form,
"I love you," while my board approve my annual reports because
thus far I have been able to end each with "I recommend the
declaration of a dividend of -- per cent from the earnings of the
current year." I should therefore prefer to reserve my writings
for such friendly critics, if it did not seem necessary to make
public a plain statement concerning an affair over which there
appears to be much confusion. I have heard in the last five years
not less than twenty renderings of what is commonly called "the
great K. & A. train-robbery,"--some so twisted and distorted that
but for the intermediate versions I should never have recognized
them as attempts to narrate the series of events in which I
played a somewhat prominent part. I have read or been told that,
unassisted, the pseudo-hero captured a dozen desperadoes; that he
was one of the road agents himself; that he was saved from
lynching only by the timely arrival of cavalry; that the action
of the United States government in rescuing him from the civil
authorities was a most high-handed interference with State
rights; that he received his reward from a grateful railroad by
being promoted; that a lovely woman as recompense for his
villany--but bother! it's my business to tell what really
occurred, and not what the world chooses to invent. And if any
man thinks he would have done otherwise in my position, I can
only say that he is a | 157.521027 | 650 |
2023-11-16 18:18:24.2821470 | 1,093 | 425 |
Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team
[Illustration Caption: Martha told him that he had always been her
ideal and that she worshipped him.]
HER WEIGHT IN GOLD
By GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON
NEW YORK
1914
Nearly all of the stories presented in this volume appeared separately
in various magazines. The author desires to acknowledge his thanks to
the publications for courtesies extended by their editors: The National
Magazine, Short Stories, the Saturday Evening Post, The Reader, The
Woman's World, Good Housekeeping and The Illustrated Sunday Magazine.
CONTENTS
HER WEIGHT IN GOLD
THE MAID AND THE BLADE
MR. HAMSHAW'S LOVE AFFAIR
THE GREEN RUBY
THE GLOAMING GHOSTS
WHEN GIRL MEETS GIRL
QUIDDLERS THREE
THE LATE MR. TAYLOR
THE TEN DOLLAR BILL
HER WEIGHT IN GOLD
"Well the question is: how much does she weigh?" asked Eddie Ten Eyck
with satirical good humour.
His somewhat flippant inquiry followed the heated remark of General
Horatio Gamble, who, in desperation, had declared that his
step-daughter, Martha, was worth her weight in gold.
The General was quite a figure in the town of Essex. He was the
president of the Town and Country Club and, besides owning a splendid
stud, was also the possessor of a genuine Gainsborough, picked up at
the shop of an obscure dealer in antiques in New York City for a
ridiculously low price (two hundred dollars, it has been said), and
which, according to a rumour started by himself, was worth a hundred
thousand if it was worth a dollar, although he contrived to keep the
secret from the ears of the county tax collector. He had married late
in life, after accumulating a fortune that no woman could despise, and
of late years had taken to frequenting the Club with a far greater
assiduity than is customary in most presidents.
Young Mr. Ten Eyck's sarcasm was inspired by a mind's-eye picture of
Miss Martha Gamble. To quote Jo Grigsby, she was "so plain that all
comparison began and ended with her." Without desiring to appear
ungallant, I may say that there were many homely young women in Essex;
but each of them had the delicate satisfaction of knowing that Martha
was incomparably her superior in that respect.
"I am not jesting, sir," said the General with asperity. "Martha may
not be as good-looking as--er--some girls that I've seen, but she is a
jewel, just the same. The man who gets her for a wife will be a blamed
sight luckier than the fellows who marry the brainless little fools we
see trotting around like butterflies." (It was the first time that
Eddie had heard of trotting butterflies.)
"She's a fine girl," was his conciliatory remark.
"She is pure gold," said the General with conviction. "Pure gold, sir."
"A nugget," agreed Eddie expansively. "A hundred and eighty pound
nugget, General. Why don't you send her to a refinery?"
The General merely glared at him and subsided into thoughtful silence.
He was in the habit of falling into deep spells of abstraction at such
times as this. For the life of him, he couldn't understand how Martha
came by her excessive plainness. Her mother was looked upon as a
beautiful woman and her father (the General's predecessor) had been a
man worth looking at, even from a successor's point of view. That
Martha should have grown up to such appalling ugliness was a source of
wonder, not only to the General, but to Mrs. Gamble herself.
Young Mr. Ten Eyck was the most impecunious spendthrift in Essex. He
lived by his wits, with which he was more generously endowed than
anything in the shape of gold or precious jewels. His raiment was
accumulative. His spending-money came to him through an allowance that
his grandmother considerately delivered to him at regular periods, but
as is the custom with such young men he was penniless before the
quarter was half over. At all times he was precariously close to being
submerged by his obligations. Yet trouble sat lightly upon his head, if
one were to judge by outward appearances. Beneath a bland, care-free
exterior, however, there lurked in Edward's bosom a perpetual pang of
distress over the financial situation.
What worried him most was the conviction that all signs pointed toward
the suspension of credit in places where he owed money, and, Young Mr.
Ten Eyck's sarcasm was inspired by a mind's-eye picture of Miss Martha
Gamble. To quote Jo Grigsby, she was "so plain that all comparison
began and ended with her." Without desiring to appear ungallant, I may
say that there were many hom | 157.601557 | 651 |
2023-11-16 18:18:24.3180850 | 1,035 | 405 |
Produced by Ron Burkey
FANNY'S FIRST PLAY
BY BERNARD SHAW
1911
This text was taken from a printed volume containing the plays
"Misalliance", "The Dark Lady of the Sonnets", "Fanny's First Play", and
the essay "A Treatise on Parents and Children".
Notes on the editing: Italicized text is delimited with underlines
("_ _"). Punctuation and spelling retained as in the printed text. Shaw
intentionally spelled many words according to a non-standard system. For
example, "don't" is given as "dont" (without apostrophe), "Dr." is given
as "Dr" (without a period at the end), and "Shakespeare" is given as
"Shakespear" (no "e" at the end). Where several characters in the play
are speaking at once, I have indicated it with vertical bars ("|"). The
pound (currency) symbol has been replaced by the word "pounds".
PREFACE TO FANNY'S FIRST PLAY
Fanny's First Play, being but a potboiler, needs no preface. But its
lesson is not, I am sorry to say, unneeded. Mere morality, or the
substitution of custom for conscience was once accounted a shameful and
cynical thing: people talked of right and wrong, of honor and dishonor,
of sin and grace, of salvation and damnation, not of morality and
immorality. The word morality, if we met it in the Bible, would surprise
us as much as the word telephone or motor car. Nowadays we do not seem
to know that there is any other test of conduct except morality; and
the result is that the young had better have their souls awakened by
disgrace, capture by the police, and a month's hard labor, than drift
along from their cradles to their graves doing what other people do for
no other reason than that other people do it, and knowing nothing of
good and evil, of courage and cowardice, or indeed anything but how to
keep hunger and concupiscence and fashionable dressing within the bounds
of good taste except when their excesses can be concealed. Is it any
wonder that I am driven to offer to young people in our suburbs the
desperate advice: Do something that will get you into trouble? But
please do not suppose that I defend a state of things which makes such
advice the best that can be given under the circumstances, or that I do
not know how difficult it is to find out a way of getting into trouble
that will combine loss of respectability with integrity of self-respect
and reasonable consideration for other peoples' feelings and interests
on every point except their dread of losing their own respectability.
But when there's a will there's a way. I hate to see dead people walking
about: it is unnatural. And our respectable middle class people are all
as dead as mutton. Out of the mouth of Mrs Knox I have delivered on them
the judgment of her God.
The critics whom I have lampooned in the induction to this play under
the names of Trotter, Vaughan, and Gunn will forgive me: in fact Mr
Trotter forgave me beforehand, and assisted the make-up by which Mr
Claude King so successfully simulated his personal appearance. The
critics whom I did not introduce were somewhat hurt, as I should have
been myself under the same circumstances; but I had not room for them
all; so I can only apologize and assure them that I meant no disrespect.
The concealment of the authorship, if a _secret de Polichinelle_ can be
said to involve concealment, was a necessary part of the play. In so far
as it was effectual, it operated as a measure of relief to those critics
and playgoers who are so obsessed by my strained legendary reputation
that they approach my plays in a condition which is really one of
derangement, and are quite unable to conceive a play of mine as anything
but a trap baited with paradoxes, and designed to compass their ethical
perversion and intellectual confusion. If it were possible, I should put
forward all my plays anonymously, or hire some less disturbing person,
as Bacon is said to have hired Shakespear, to father my plays for me.
Fanny's First Play was performed for the first time at the Little
Theatre in the Adelphi, London, on the afternoon of Wednesday, April
19th 1911.
FANNY'S FIRST PLAY
INDUCTION
_The end of a saloon in an old-fashioned country house (Florence Towers,
the property of Count O'Dowda) has been curtained off to form a stage
for a private theatrical performance. A footman in grandiose Spanish
livery enters before the curtain | 157.637495 | 652 |
2023-11-16 18:18:24.3201610 | 1,009 | 395 |
Produced by Chris Curnow, Joseph Cooper, Josephine Paolucci
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net
HESTER'S COUNTERPART
[Illustration: THE WATER CREPT UP.--_Page 284._]
THE HESTER BOOKS
HESTER'S COUNTERPART
A STORY OF BOARDING SCHOOL LIFE
BY
JEAN K. BAIRD
Author of "The Coming of Hester"
_ILLUSTRATED BY ADELE W. JONES_
[Illustration]
BOSTON
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
Published, August, 1910
COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
_All Rights Reserved_
HESTER'S COUNTERPART
NORWOOD PRESS
BERWICK & SMITH CO.
NORWOOD, MASS.
U. S. A.
ILLUSTRATIONS
The water crept up (Page 284) _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
"I am Helen Loraine" 68
Again Hester deftly returned it 92
"Oh, girls, do you happen to have any cold cream?" 122
"You remember me, I see, Miss Alden" 150
They held their breath 290
HESTER'S COUNTERPART
CHAPTER I
Debby Alden, to use her own adjective in regard to herself, was not
"slack." To this her friends added another term. Debby was "set." There
could be no doubt of that.
When Hester was but twelve years old, Debby had decided that the girl
should have at least one year at the best boarding-school. Four years
had passed, during which time, Debby's purpose had remained firm,
although not yet ripe for perfecting.
After the experience with Mary Bowerman's taunts and Abner Stout's
guile, Debby decided that the time had come for Hester to have a change
of environment. Miss Richards's advice was again sought. But that old
friend no longer held the full power in her hands. Debby had grown
alive and alert. She knew the standing of the schools throughout the
State, and in what particular line of study or discipline each one
excelled.
For months, she studied catalogues and estimated expenses. She had never
made a study of psychology; but she understood that Hester had reached
the most impressionable age of her life. Each thought and word would
leave its marks upon her. Debby, who believed firmly that tendencies are
inherited, had always with her the fear that Hester would show the
tendencies of an alien race. Her one consolation was that much may be
overcome by training, and too, perhaps, there was in Hester's veins only
a drop of darker blood.
No one understood the position in which Debby Alden was placed. She
always held herself responsible for the death of Hester's mother. Duty
had compelled her to take care of the child, until love had come to her
as a reward for the fulfillment of duty.
There was no one to whom she could speak concerning Hester and her fears
in regard to her. One thing she had done and would do; she would keep
the child far removed from any influence which would tend to the
strengthening of those traits which are supposed rightfully to belong to
the race of slaves.
Debby consulted principals and teachers and read and re-read catalogues.
At length, she decided upon Dickinson Seminary as the school which came
nearest to fulfilling her desires for Hester.
Hester had always been sweet and submissive to Debby Alden. The girl had
more than love for the woman who was mother and father both to her.
Mingled with Hester's love for Debby was an inexpressible gratitude.
Hester realized how much Debby had done and was doing for her. But it
was not the dainty dresses and good home that touched her most. Debby
Alden had given the waif her mother's name, and Hester never wrote in
her big angular hand, Hester Palmer Alden, without feeling a glow of
pride. She had a name of which to be proud, a name which Debby Alden had
always held dear.
"It was the very kindest thing Aunt Debby could do," was a thought which
came often to Hester. "She must have loved me even from the first, or
she would have never given me her own name. She's so proud of being an
Alden. Their name has never had a bit of shame or disgrace touch it."
Then she added an afterthought, "and it never will through | 157.639571 | 653 |
2023-11-16 18:18:24.3488640 | 4,091 | 40 |
Produced by David Widger
PERSONAL MEMOIRES OF P. H. SHERIDAN
VOLUME 2.
Part 4
By Philip Henry Sheridan
CHAPTER I.
ORGANIZING SCOUTS--MISS REBECCA WRIGHT--IMPORTANT INFORMATION--DECIDE
TO MOVE ON NEWTOWN--MEETING GENERAL GRANT--ORGANIZATION OF THE UNION
ARMY--OPENING OF THE BATTLE OF THE OPEQUON--DEATH OF GENERAL RUSSELL
--A TURNING MOVEMENT--A SUCCESSFUL CAVALRY CHARGE--VICTORY--THREE
LOYAL GIRLS--APPOINTED A BRIGADIER-GENERAL IN THE REGULAR ARMY
--REMARKS ON THE BATTLE.
While occupying the ground between Clifton and Berryville, referred
to in the last chapter of the preceding volume, I felt the need of an
efficient body of scouts to collect information regarding the enemy,
for the defective intelligence-establishment with which I started out
from Harper's Ferry early in August had not proved satisfactory. I
therefore began to organize my scouts on a system which I hoped would
give better results than bad the method hitherto pursued in the
department, which was to employ on this service doubtful citizens and
Confederate deserters. If these should turn out untrustworthy, the
mischief they might do us gave me grave apprehension, and I finally
concluded that those of our own soldiers who should volunteer for the
delicate and hazardous duty would be the most valuable material, and
decided that they should have a battalion organization and be
commanded by an officer, Major H. K. Young, of the First Rhode Island
Infantry. These men were disguised in Confederate uniforms whenever
necessary, were paid from the Secret-Service Fund in proportion to
the value of the intelligence they furnished, which often stood us in
good stead in checking the forays of Gilmore, Mosby, and other
irregulars. Beneficial results came from the plan in many other ways
too, and particularly so when in a few days two of my scouts put me
in the way of getting news conveyed from Winchester. They had
learned that just outside of my lines, near Millwood, there was
living an old <DW52> man, who had a permit from the Confederate
commander to go into Winchester and return three times a week, for
the purpose of selling vegetables to the inhabitants. The scouts had
sounded this man, and, finding him both loyal and shrewd, suggested
that he might be made useful to us within the enemy's lines; and the
proposal struck me as feasible, provided there could be found in
Winchester some reliable person who would be willing to co-operate
and correspond with me. I asked General Crook, who was acquainted
with many of the Union people of Winchester, if he knew of such a
person, and he recommended a Miss Rebecca Wright, a young lady whom
he had met there before the battle of Kernstown, who, he said, was a
member of the Society of Friends and the teacher of a small private
school. He knew she was faithful and loyal to the Government, and
thought she might be willing to render us assistance, but he could
not be certain of this, for on account of her well known loyalty she
was under constant surveillance. I hesitated at first, but finally
deciding to try it, despatched the two scouts to the old <DW64>'s
cabin, and they brought him to my headquarters late that night. I
was soon convinced of the <DW64>'s fidelity, and asking him if he was
acquainted with Miss Rebecca Wright, of Winchester, he replied that
he knew her well. There upon I told him what I wished to do, and
after a little persuasion he agreed to carry a letter to her on his
next marketing trip. My message was prepared by writing it on tissue
paper, which was then compressed into a small pellet, and protected
by wrapping it in tin-foil so that it could be safely carried in the
man's mouth. The probability, of his being searched when he came to
the Confederate picketline was not remote, and in such event he was
to swallow the pellet. The letter appealed to Miss Wright's loyalty
and patriotism, and requested her to furnish me with information
regarding the strength and condition of Early's army. The night
before the <DW64> started one of the scouts placed the odd-looking
communication in his hands, with renewed injunctions as to secrecy
and promptitude. Early the next morning it was delivered to Miss
Wright, with an intimation that a letter of importance was enclosed
in the tin-foil, the <DW64> telling her at the same time that she
might expect him to call for a message in reply before his return
home. At first Miss Wright began to open the pellet nervously, but
when told to be careful, and to preserve the foil as a wrapping for
her answer, she proceeded slowly and carefully, and when the note
appeared intact the messenger retired, remarking again that in the
evening he would come for an answer.
On reading my communication Miss Wright was much startled by the
perils it involved, and hesitatingly consulted her mother, but her
devoted loyalty soon silenced every other consideration, and the
brave girl resolved to comply with my request, notwithstanding it
might jeopardize her life. The evening before a convalescent
Confederate officer had visited her mother's house, and in
conversation about the war had disclosed the fact that Kershaw's
division of infantry and Cutshaw's battalion of artillery had started
to rejoin General Lee. At the time Miss Wright heard this she
attached little if any importance to it, but now she perceived the
value of the intelligence, and, as her first venture, determined to
send it to me at once, which she did with a promise that in the
future she would with great pleasure continue to transmit information
by the <DW64> messenger.
"SEPTEMBER 15, 1864.
"I learn from Major-General Crook that you are a loyal lady, and
still love the old flag. Can you inform me of the position of
Early's forces, the number of divisions in his army, and the strength
of any or all of them, and his probable or reported intentions? Have
any more troops arrived from Richmond, or are any more coming, or
reported to be coming?
"You can trust the bearer."
"I am, very respectfully, your most obedient servant,
"P. H. SHERIDAN, Major-General Commanding."
"SEPTEMBER 16, 1864.
"I have no communication whatever with the rebels, but will tell you
what I know. The division of General Kershaw, and Cutshaw's
artillery, twelve guns and men, General Anderson commanding, have
been sent away, and no more are expected, as they cannot be spared
from Richmond. I do not know how the troops are situated, but the
force is much smaller than represented. I will take pleasure
hereafter in learning all I can of their strength and position, and
the bearer may call again.
"Very respectfully yours,"
............
Miss Wright's answer proved of more value to me than she anticipated,
for it not only quieted the conflicting reports concerning Anderson's
corps, but was most important in showing positively that Kershaw was
gone, and this circumstance led, three days later, to the battle of
the Opequon, or Winchester as it has been unofficially called. Word
to the effect that some of Early's troops were under orders to return
to Petersburg, and would start back at the first favorable
opportunity, had been communicated to me already from many sources,
but we had not been able to ascertain the date for their departure.
Now that they had actually started, I decided to wait before offering
battle until Kershaw had gone so far as to preclude his return,
feeling confident that my prudence would be justified by the improved
chances of victory; and then, besides, Mr. Stanton kept reminding me
that positive success was necessary to counteract the political
dissatisfaction existing in some of the Northern States. This course
was advised and approved by General Grant, but even with his powerful
backing it was difficult to resist the persistent pressure of those
whose judgment, warped by their interests in the Baltimore and Ohio
railroad, was often confused and misled by stories of scouts (sent
out from Washington), averring that Kershaw and Fitzhugh Lee had
returned to Petersburg, Breckenridge to southwestern Virginia, and at
one time even maintaining that Early's whole army was east of the
Blue Ridge, and its commander himself at Gordonsville.
During the inactivity prevailing in my army for the ten days
preceding Miss Wright's communication the infantry was quiet, with
the exception of Getty's division, which made a reconnoissance to the
Opequon, and developed a heavy force of the enemy at Edwards's
Corners. The cavalry, however, was employed a good deal in this
interval skirmishing heavily at times to maintain a space about six
miles in width between the hostile lines, for I wished to control
this ground so that when I was released from the instructions of
August 12, I could move my men into position for attack without the
knowledge of Early. The most noteworthy of these mounted encounters
was that of McIntosh's brigade, which captured the Eighth South
Carolina at Abraham's Creek September 13.
It was the evening of the 16th of September that I received from Miss
Wright the positive information that Kershaw was in march toward
Front Royal on his way by Chester Gap to Richmond. Concluding that
this was my opportunity, I at once resolved to throw my whole force
into Newtown the next day, but a despatch from General Grant
directing me to meet him at Charlestown, whither he was coming to
consult with me, caused me to defer action until after I should see
him. In our resulting interview at Charlestown, I went over the
situation very thoroughly, and pointed out with so much confidence
the chances of a complete victory should I throw my army across the
Valley pike near Newtown that he fell in with the plan at once,
authorized me to resume the offensive, and to attack Early as soon as
I deemed it most propitious to do so; and although before leaving
City Point he had outlined certain operations for my army, yet he
neither discussed nor disclosed his plans, my knowledge of the
situation striking him as being so much more accurate than his own.
[Extract from "Grant's Memoirs," page 328.]
"....Before starting I had drawn up a plan of campaign for Sheridan,
which I had brought with me; but seeing that he was so clear and so
positive in his views, and so confident of success, I said nothing
about this, and did not take it out of my pocket...."
The interview over, I returned to my army to arrange for its movement
toward Newtown, but while busy with these preparations, a report came
to me from General Averell which showed that Early was moving with
two divisions of infantry toward Martinsburg. This considerably
altered the state of affairs, and I now decided to change my plan and
attack at once the two divisions remaining about Winchester and
Stephenson's depot, and later, the two sent to Martinsburg; the
disjointed state of the enemy giving me an opportunity to take him in
detail, unless the Martinsburg column should be returned by forced
marches.
While General Early was in the telegraph office at Martinsburg on the
morning of the 18th, he learned of Grant's visit to me; and
anticipating activity by reason of this circumstance, he promptly
proceeded to withdraw so as to get the two divisions within
supporting distance of Ramseur's, which lay across the Berryville
pike about two miles east of Winchester, between Abraham's Creek and
Red Bud Run, so by the night of the 18th Wharton's division, under
Breckenridge, was at Stephenson's depot, Rodes near there, and
Gordon's at Bunker Hill. At daylight of the 19th these positions of
the Confederate infantry still obtained, with the cavalry of Lomax,
Jackson, and Johnson on the right of Ramseur, while to the left and
rear of the enemy's general line was Fitzhugh Lee, covering from
Stephenson's depot west across the Valley pike to Applepie Ridge.
My army moved at 3 o'clock that morning. The plan was for Torbert to
advance with Merritt's division of cavalry from Summit Point, carry
the crossings of the Opequon at Stevens's and Lock's fords, and form
a junction near Stephenson's depot, with Averell, who was to move
south from Darksville by the Valley pike. Meanwhile, Wilson was to
strike up the Berryville pike, carry the Berryville crossing of the
Opequon, charge through the gorge or canyon on the road west of the
stream, and occupy the open ground at the head of this defile.
Wilson's attack was to be supported by the Sixth and Nineteenth
corps, which were ordered to the Berryville crossing, and as the
cavalry gained the open ground beyond the gorge, the two infantry
corps, under command of General Wright, were expected to press on
after and occupy Wilson's ground, who was then to shift to the south
bank of Abraham's Creek and cover my left; Crook's two divisions,
having to march from Summit Point, were to follow the Sixth and
Nineteenth corps to the Opcquon, and should they arrive before the
action began, they were to be held in reserve till the proper moment
came, and then, as a turning-column, be thrown over toward the Valley
pike, south of Winchester.
McIntosh's brigade of Wilson's division drove the enemy's pickets
away from the Berryville crossing at dawn, and Wilson following
rapidly through the gorge with the rest of the division, debouched
from its western extremity with such suddenness as to capture a
small earthwork in front of General Ramseur's main line; and
not-withstanding the Confederate infantry, on recovering from its
astonishment, tried hard to dislodge them, Wilson's troopers
obstinately held the work till the Sixth Corps came up. I followed
Wilson to select the ground on which to form the infantry. The Sixth
Corps began to arrive about 8 o'clock, and taking up the line Wilson
had been holding, just beyond the head of the narrow ravine, the
cavalry was transferred to the south side of Abraham's Creek.
The Confederate line lay along some elevated ground about two miles
east of Winchester, and extended from Abraham's Creek north across
the Berryville pike, the left being hidden in the heavy timber on Red
Bud Run. Between this line and mine, especially on my right, clumps
of woods and patches of underbrush occurred here and there, but the
undulating ground consisted mainly of open fields, many of which were
covered with standing corn that had already ripened.
Much time was lost in getting all of the Sixth and Nineteenth corps
through the narrow defile, Grover's division being greatly delayed
there by a train of ammunition wagons, and it was not until late in
the forenoon that the troops intended for the attack could be got
into line ready to advance. General Early was not slow to avail
himself of the advantages thus offered him, and my chances of
striking him in detail were growing less every moment, for Gordon and
Rodes were hurrying their divisions from Stephenson's depot
--across-country on a line that would place Gordon in the woods south
of Red Bud Run, and bring Rodes into the interval between Gordon and
Ramseur.
When the two corps had all got through the canyon they were formed
with Getty's division of the Sixth to the left of the Berryville
pike, Rickett's division to the right of the pike, and Russell's
division in reserve in rear of the other two. Grover's division of
the Nineteenth Corps came next on the right of Rickett's, with Dwight
to its rear in reserve, while Crook was to begin massing near the
Opequon crossing about the time Wright and Emory were ready to
attack.
Just before noon the line of Getty, Ricketts, and Grover moved
forward, and as we advanced, the Confederates, covered by some heavy
woods on their right, slight underbrush and corn-fields along their
Centre, and a large body of timber on their left along the Red Bud,
opened fire from their whole front. We gained considerable ground at
first, especially on our left but the desperate resistance which the
right met with demonstrated that the time we had unavoidably lost in
the morning had been of incalculable value to Early, for it was
evident that he had been enabled already to so far concentrate his
troops as to have the different divisions of his army in a connected
line of battle, in good shape to resist.
Getty and Ricketts made some progress toward Winchester in connection
with Wilson's cavalry, which was beyond the Senseny road on Getty's
left, and as they were pressing back Ramseur's infantry and Lomax's
cavalry Grover attacked from the right with decided effect. Grover
in a few minutes broke up Evans's brigade of Gordon's division, but
his pursuit of Evans destroyed the continuity of my general line, and
increased an interval that had already been made by the deflection of
Ricketts to the left, in obedience to instructions that had been
given him to guide his division on the Berryville pike. As the line
pressed forward, Ricketts observed this widening interval and
endeavored to fill it with the small brigade of Colonel Keifer, but
at this juncture both Gordon and Rodes struck the weak spot where the
right of the Sixth Corps and the left of the Nineteenth should have
been in conjunction, and succeeded in checking my advance by driving
back a part of Ricketts's division, and the most of Grover's. As
these troops were retiring I ordered Russell's reserve division to be
put into action, and just as the flank of the enemy's troops in
pursuit of Grover was presented, Upton's brigade, led in person by
both Russell and Upton, struck it in a charge so vigorous as to drive
the Confederates back in turn to their original ground.
The success of Russell enabled me to re-establish the right of my
line some little distance in advance of the | 157.668274 | 654 |
2023-11-16 18:18:24.4025200 | 482 | 73 |
Produced by Greg Bergquist, Matthew Wheaton 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.)
ANOTHER SUMMER
THE
YELLOWSTONE PARK
and
ALASKA
BY
CHARLES J. GILLIS
Printed for
Private Distribution
COPYRIGHT, 1893, BY
CHARLES J. GILLIS.
Press of J. J. Little & Co.
Astor Place, New York
The more I think of it, the more I find this conclusion
impressed upon me, that the greatest thing a human soul ever
does in this world is to _see_ something and tell what it saw in
a plain way.--RUSKIN.
With the Compliments
of the Author.
PREFACE.
In the spring of 1892, a party was made up for a trip to Alaska. The
different members thereof were to cross the continent by such routes
as they pleased, and meet at Portland, Oregon, on the second of July.
This plan was followed, and all the party boarded the steamer _Queen_
at Tacoma, prepared for the journey of a thousand miles up the coast
of Alaska.
Some account of this, and also of an excursion to the Yellowstone
Park, made on the way westward, is given in the following pages.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER
I.--THE START FOR ALASKA,
II.--ON THE WAY TO THE YELLOWSTONE,
III.--YELLOWSTONE PARK,
IV.--THE GEYSERS AND PAINT POT,
V.--THE UPPER GEYSER BASIN,
VI.--THE GRAND CANYON, AND THE FALLS OF THE YELLOWSTONE,
VII.--DOWN THE COLUMBIA RIVER TO PORTLAND,
VIII.--TACOMA AND SEATTLE,
IX.--ON BOARD THE "QUEEN" FROM TACOMA TO VICTORIA,
X.--ALASKA,
XI.--THE MUIR GLACIER,
XII.--SITKA,
XIII.--AN ACCIDENT TO THE "QUEEN,"
XIV.--ICY BAY | 157.72193 | 655 |
2023-11-16 18:18:24.6807160 | 4,076 | 38 |
Produced by David Widger
THE RIGHT OF WAY, Volume 6 (of 6)
By Gilbert Parker
CONTENTS:
L. THE PASSION PLAY AT CHAUDIERE
LI. FACE TO FACE
LII. THE COMING OF BILLY
LIII. THE SEIGNEUR AND THE CURE HAVE A SUSPICION
LIV. M. ROSSIGNOL SLIPS THE LEASH
LV. ROSALIE PLAYS A PART
LVI. MRS. FLYNN SPEAKS
LVII. A BURNING FIERY FURNACE
LVIII. WITH HIS BACK TO THE WALL
LIX. IN WHICH CHARLEY MEETS A STRANGER
LX. THE HAND AT THE DOOR
LXI. THE CURE SPEAKS
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER L. THE PASSION PLAY AT CHAUDIERE
For the first time in its history Chaudiere was becoming notable in the
eyes of the outside world.
"We'll have more girth after this," said Filion Lacasse the saddler
to the wife of the Notary, as, in front of the post-office, they stood
watching a little cavalcade of habitants going up the road towards Four
Mountains to rehearse the Passion Play.
"If Dauphin's advice had been taken long ago, we'd have had a hotel at
Four Mountains, and the city folk would be coming here for the summer,"
said Madame Dauphin, with a superior air.
"Pish!" said a voice behind them. It was the Seigneur's groom, with a
straw in his mouth. He had a gloomy mind.
"There isn't a house but has two or three boarders. I've got three,"
said Filion Lacasse. "They come tomorrow."
"We'll have ten at the Manor. But no good will come of it," said the
groom.
"No good! Look at the infidel tailor!" said Madame Dauphin. "He
translated all the writing. He drew all the dresses, and made a hundred
pictures--there they are at the Cure's house."
"He should have played Judas," said the groom malevolently. "That'd be
right for him."
"Perhaps you don't like the Passion Play," said Madame Dauphin
disdainfully.
"We ain't through with it yet," said the death's-head groom.
"It is a pious and holy mission," said Madame Dauphin. "Even that Jo
Portugais worked night and day till he went away to Montreal, and he
always goes to Mass now. He's to take Pontius Pilate when he comes
back. Then look at Virginie Morrissette, that put her brother's eyes out
quarrelling--she's to play Mary Magdalene."
"I could fit the parts better," said the groom.
"Of course. You'd have played St. John," said the saddler--"or, maybe,
Christus himself!"
"I'd have Paulette Dubois play Mary the sinner."
"Magdalene repented, and knelt at the foot of the cross. She was sorry
and sinned no more," said the Notary's wife in querulous reprimand.
"Well, Paulette does all that," said the stolid, dark-visaged groom.
Filion Lacasse's ears pricked up. "How do you know--she hasn't come
back?"
"Hasn't she, though! And with her child too--last night."
"Her child!" Madame Dauphin was scandalised and amazed.
The groom nodded. "And doesn't care who knows it. Seven years old, and
as fine a child as ever was!"
"Narcisse--Narcisse!" called Madame Dauphin to her husband, who was
coming up the street. She hastily repeated the groom's news to him.
The Notary stuck his hand between the buttons of his waistcoat. "Well,
well, my dear Madame," he said consequentially, "it is quite true."
"What do you know about it--whose child is it?" she asked, with curdling
scorn.
"'Sh-'sh!" said the Notary. Then, with an oratorical wave of his free
hand: "The Church opens her arms to all--even to her who sinned much
because she loved much, who, through woful years, searched the world for
her child and found it not--hidden away, as it was, by the duplicity
of sinful man"--and so on through tangled sentences, setting forth in
broken terms Paulette Dubois's life.
"How do you know all about it?" asked the saddler. "I've known it for
years," said the Notary grandly--stoutly too, for he would freely risk
his wife's anger that the vain-glory of the moment might be enlarged.
"And you keep it even from madame!" said the saddler, with a smile too
broad to be sarcastic. "Tiens! if I did that, my wife'd pick my eyes out
with a bradawl."
"It was a professional secret," said the Notary, with a desperate
resolve to hold his position.
"I'm going home, Dauphin--are you coming?" questioned his wife, with an
air.
"You will remain, and hear what I've got to say. This Paulette
Dubois--she should play Mary Magdalene, for--"
"Look--look, what's that?" said the saddler. He pointed to a wagon
coming slowly up the road. In front of it a team of dogs drew a cart.
It carried some thing covered with black. "It's a funeral! There's the
coffin. It's on Jo Portugais' little cart," added Filion Lacasse.
"Ah, God be merciful, it's Rosalie Evanturel and Mrs. Flynn! And M'sieu'
Evanturel in the coffin!" said Madame Dauphin, running to the door of
the postoffice to call the Cure's sister.
"There'll be use enough for the baker's Dead March now," remarked M.
Dauphin sadly, buttoning up his coat, taking off his hat, and going
forward to greet Rosalie. As he did so, Charley appeared in the doorway
of his shop.
"Look, Monsieur," said the Notary. "This is the way Rosalie Evanturel
comes home with her father."
"I will go for the Cure" Charley answered, turning white. He leaned
against the doorway for a moment to steady himself, then hurried up the
street. He did not dare meet Rosalie, or go near her yet. For her sake
it was better not.
"That tailor infidel has a heart. His eyes were leaking," said the
Notary to Filion Lacasse, and went on to meet the mournful cavalcade.
CHAPTER LI. FACE TO FACE
"If I could only understand!"--this was Rosalie's constant cry in these
weeks wherein she lay ill and prostrate after her father's burial. Once
and once only had she met Charley alone, though she knew that he was
keeping watch over her. She had first seen him the day her father was
buried, standing apart from the people, his face sorrowful, his eyes
heavy, his figure bowed.
The occasion of their meeting alone was the first night of her return,
when the Notary and Charley had kept watch beside her father's body.
She had gone into the little hallway, and had looked into the room of
death. The Notary was sound asleep in his arm-chair, but Charley sat
silent and moveless, his eyes gazing straight before him. She murmured
his name, and though it was only to herself, not even a whisper, he got
up quickly and came to the hall, where she stood grief-stricken, yet
with a smile of welcome, of forgiveness, of confidence. As she put out
her hand to him, and his swallowed it, she could not but say to him--so
contrary is the heart of woman, so does she demand a Yes by asserting a
No, and hunger for the eternal assurance--she could not but say:
"You do not love me--now."
It was but a whisper, so faint and breathless that only the heart of
love could hear it. There was no answer in words, for some one was
stirring beyond Rosalie in the dark, and a great figure heaved through
the kitchen doorway, but his hand crushed hers in his own; his heart
said to her, "My love is an undying light; it will not change for time
or tears"--the words they had read together in a little snuff-coloured
book on the counter in the shop one summer day a year ago. The words
flashed into his mind, and they were carried to hers. Her fingers
pressed his, and then Charley said, over her shoulder, to the
approaching Mrs. Flynn: "Do not let her come again, Madame. She should
get some sleep," and he put her hand in Mrs. Flynn's. "Be good to her,
as you know how, Mrs. Flynn," he added gently.
He had won the heart of Mrs. Flynn that moment, and it may be she had a
conviction or an inspiration, for she said, in a softer voice than she
was wont to use to any one save Rosalie:
"I'll do by her as you'd do by your own, sir," and tenderly drew Rosalie
to her own room.
Such had been their first meeting after her return. Afterwards she was
taken ill, and the torture of his heart drove him out into the night,
to walk the road and creep round her house like a sentinel, Mrs. Flynn's
words ringing in his ears to reproach him--"I'll do by her as you would
do by your own, sir." Night after night it was the same, and Rosalie
heard his footsteps and listened and was less sorrowful, because she
knew that she was ever in his thoughts. But one day Mrs. Flynn came to
him in his shop.
"She's wantin' a word with ye on business," she said, and gestured
towards the little house across the way. "'Tis few words ye do be
shpakin' to annybody, but if y' have kind words to shpake and good
things to say, y' naidn't be bitin' yer tongue," she added in response
to his nod, and left him.
Charley looked after her with a troubled face. On the instant it seemed
to him that Mrs. Flynn knew all. But his second thought told him that
it was only an instinct on her part that there was something between
them--the beginning of love, maybe.
In another half-hour he was beside Rosalie's chair. "Perhaps you are
angry," she said, as he came towards her where she sat in the great
arm-chair. She did not give him time to answer, but hurried on. "I
wanted to tell you that I have heard you every night outside, and that I
have been glad, and sorry too--so sorry for us both."
"Rosalie! Rosalie" he said hoarsely, and dropped on a knee beside her
chair, and took her hand and kissed it. He did not dare do more.
"I wanted to say to you," she said, dropping a hand on his shoulder,
"that I do not blame you for anything--not for anything. Yet I want you
to be sorry too. I want you to feel as sorry for me as I feel sorry for
you."
"I am the worst man and you the best woman in the world."
She leaned over him with tears in her eyes. "Hush!" she said. "I want to
help you--Charles. You are wise. You know ten thousand things more than
I; but I know one thing you do not understand."
"You know and do whatever is good," he said brokenly.
"Oh, no, no, no! But I know one thing, because I have been taught, and
because it was born with me. Perhaps much was habit with me in the past,
but now I know that one thing is true. It is God."
She paused. "I have learned so much since--since then."
He looked up with a groan, and put a finger on her lips. "You are
feeling bitterly sorry for me," she said. "But you must let me
speak--that is all I ask. It is all love asks. I cannot bear that you
should not share my thoughts. That is the thing that has hurt--hurt so
all these months, these long hard months, when I could not see you, and
did not know why I could not. Don't shake so, please! Hear me to the
end, and we shall both be the better after. I felt it all so cruelly,
because I did not--and I do not--understand. I rebelled, but not against
you. I rebelled against myself, against what you called Fate. Fate
is one's self, what one brings on one's self. But I had faith in
you--always--always, even when I thought I hated you."
"Ah, hate me! Hate me! It is your loving that cuts me to the quick," he
said. "You have the magnanimity of God."
Her eyes leapt up. "'Of God'--you believe in God!" she said eagerly.
"God is God to you? He is the one thing that has come out of all this
to me." She reached out her hand and took her Bible from a table.
"Read that to yourself," she said, and, opening the Book, pointed to a
passage. He read it:
And they heard the voice of the Lord God walking in the garden in
the cool of the day: and Adam and his wife hid themselves from the
presence of the Lord God amongst the trees of the garden.
And the Lord God called unto Adam, and said unto him, Where art
thou?
And he said, I heard Thy voice in the garden, and I was afraid,
because I was naked; and I hid myself.
And He said, Who told thee that thou wart naked? Hast thou eaten of
the tree whereof I commanded thee that thou shouldest not eat?
Closing the Book, Charley said: "I understand--I see."
"Will you say a prayer with me?" she urged. "It is all I ask. It is the
only--the only thing I want to hurt you, because it may make you happier
in the end. What keeps us apart, I do not know. But if you will say one
prayer with me, I will keep on trusting, I will never complain, and I
will wait--wait."
He kissed both her hands, but the look in his eyes was that of a man
being broken on the wheel. She slipped to the floor, her rosary in her
fingers. "Let us pray," she said simply, and in a voice as clear as a
child's, but with the anguish of a woman's struggling heart behind.
He did not move. She looked at him, caught his hands in both of hers,
and cried: "But you will not deny me this! Haven't I the right to ask
it? Haven't I a right to ask of you a thousand times as much?"
"You have the right to ask all that is mine to give life, honour, my
body in pieces inch by inch, the last that I can call my own. But,
Rosalie, this is not mine to give! How can I pray, unless I believe!"
"You do--oh, you do believe in God," she cried passionately.
"Rosalie--my life," he urged, hoarse misery in his voice, "the only
thing I have to give you is the bare soul of a truthful man--I am that
now at least. You have made me so. If I deceived the whole world, if I
was as the thief upon the cross, I should still be truthful to you. You
open your heart to me--let me open mine to you, to see it as it is.
Once my soul was like a watch, cased and carried in the pocket of life,
uncertain, untrue, because it was a soul made, not born. I must look at
the hands to know the time, and because it varied, because the working
did not answer to the absolute, I said: 'The soul is a lie.' You--you
have changed all that, Rosalie. My soul now is like a dial to the sun.
But the clouds are there above, and I do not know what time it is in
life. When the clouds break--if they ever break--and the sun shines, the
dial will speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth--"
He paused, confused, for he had repeated the words of a witness taking
the oath in court.
"'So help me God!"' she finished the oath for him. Then, with a sudden
change of manner, she came to her feet with a spring. She did not quite
understand. She was, however, dimly conscious of the power she had over
his chivalrous mind: the power of the weak over the strong--the tyranny
of the defended over the defender. She was a woman tortured beyond
bearing; and she was fighting for her very life, mad with anguish as she
struggled.
"I do not understand you," she cried, with flashing eyes. "One minute
you say you do not believe in anything, and the next you say, 'So help
me God!'"
"Ah, no, you said that, Rosalie," he interposed gently.
"You said I was as magnanimous as God. You were laughing at me then,
mocking me, whose only fault is that I loved and trusted you. In the
wickedness of your heart you robbed me of happiness, you--"
"Don't--don't! Rosalie! Rosalie!" he exclaimed in shrinking protest.
That she had spoken to him as her deepest heart abhorred only increased
her agitated denunciation. "Yes, yes, in your mad selfishness, you did
not care for the poor girl who forgot all, lost all, and now--"
She stopped short at the sight of his white, awe stricken face. His
eye-glass seemed like a frost of death over an eye that looked upon
some shocking scene of woe. Yet he appeared not to see, for his fingers
fumbled on his waistcoat for the monocle--fumbled--vaguely, helplessly.
It was the realisation of a soul cast into the outer darkness. Her
abrupt silence came upon him like the last engulfing wave to a drowning
| 158.000126 | 656 |
2023-11-16 18:18:24.6813630 | 401 | 104 |
E-text prepared by Giovanni Fini, Melissa McDaniel, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images
generously made available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 51738-h.htm or 51738-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/51738/51738-h/51738-h.htm)
or
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/51738/51738-h.zip)
Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
https://archive.org/details/julianmortimerbr00cast
[Illustration: “Julian!” exclaimed the man, in a low but excited tone
of voice. “I am here!” replied the prisoner, so overjoyed that he could
scarcely speak.—Page 118.
_Julian Mortimer._]
JULIAN MORTIMER;
A Brave Boy’s Struggle for Home and Fortune
by
HARRY CASTLEMON,
Author of
The “Gunboat Series,” “The Boy Trapper,” “Sportsman’s Club Series,”
etc., etc.
Illustrated.
[Illustration]
A. L. Burt Company, Publishers
New York
Copyright, 1873, by Street & Smith.
Copyright, 1887, by A. L. Burt.
Copyright, 1901, by Charles S. Fosdick.
JULIAN MORTIMER.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
JULIAN MORTIMER
I. THE WAGON TRAIN 5
II. JULIAN HEARS SOMETHING 11
III. A RIDE IN THE DARK 18
IV. JULIAN FINDS A RELATIVE 30
| 158.000773 | 657 |
2023-11-16 18:18:24.7459780 | 1,046 | 429 |
Produced by MWS, 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/American Libraries.)
[Illustration (cover)]
THE SAYINGS OF
MRS. SOLOMON
[Illustration]
THE SAYINGS OF
MRS. SOLOMON
BEING THE CONFESSIONS OF THE
SEVEN HUNDREDTH WIFE AS REVEALED TO
HELEN ROWLAND
AUTHOR OF “THE WIDOW”
“REFLECTIONS OF A BACHELOR
GIRL,” ETC.
[Illustration]
PUBLISHED IN NEW YORK BY
DODGE PUBLISHING COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY DODGE
PUBLISHING COMPANY; NEW YORK
MRS. SOLOMON
CONTENTS
I. GREETING 11
II. BOOK OF HUSBANDS 15
III. BOOK OF FLIRTS 31
IV. BOOK OF DAMSELS 49
V. BOOK OF BACHELORS 67
VI. BOOK OF SIRENS 79
VII. BOOK OF ADMONITIONS 93
VIII. BOOK OF SONGS 109
AND VERILY, A WOMAN
NEED KNOW BUT ONE
MAN WELL, IN ORDER
TO UNDERSTAND _ALL_
MEN; WHEREAS A MAN
MAY KNOW ALL WOMEN
AND UNDERSTAND NOT
ONE OF THEM
[Illustration]
GREETING
Hearken, my Daughter, and give ear unto my wisdom, that thou mayest
understand _man_--his goings and his comings, his stayings out and his
return in the morning, his words of honey and his ways of guile.
Beloved, question me not, whence I have learned of man, his secrets.
Have I not known _one_ man well? And verily, a woman need know but one
man, in order to understand _all_ men; whereas a man may know all women
and understand not one of them.
For men are of but one pattern, whereof thou needest but to discover
the secret combination; but women are as the _Yale lock_--no two of
them are alike.
Lo! What a paradox is man--even a puzzle which worketh backward!
He mistaketh a sweet scent for a sweet disposition, and a subtile
sachet for a subtile mind.
He voweth, “I admire a discreet woman!”--and inviteth the froward
blonde of the chorus to supper.
He muttereth unto his wife, “Lo! I will go unto the corner for a
cigar”--and behold, he wandereth unto many corners and returneth by a
circular route.
He kisseth the woman whom he loveth _not_, and avoideth her whom he
loveth, lest his heart become entangled. Yea, he seeketh always the
wrong woman that he may forget his heart’s desire.
Yet, whichever he weddeth, he regretteth it all the days of his life.
SELAH.
FOR A LONE WOMAN
IN A GREAT
RESTAURANT
LOOKETH PITIFUL;
BUT AN HUSBAND
LOOKETH LIKE A
REAL _TIP_
[Illustration]
BOOK OF HUSBANDS
CHAPTER ONE
Verily, my Daughter, an husband is a Good Thing. He giveth the house a
“finished” look, even as a rubber plant and a door-plate.
He suggesteth ready-money, and is an _adornment_ like unto a potted
palm upon the piazza.
When he sitteth beside thee in the tabernacle, he is as a certificate
of respectability; yea in the eyes of society, he is better than a
written recommendation.
Verily, he is as necessary unto thy dinner table as a centerpiece, and
more impressive than cut flowers and a butler in livery.
When he taketh thee abroad to dine, the waiter shall not lead thee into
dim and draughty corners, but shall run nimbly and place thee in a
choice spot within _hearing_ of the music.
For a lone woman in a great restaurant looketh pitiful; but an husband
looketh like a real _tip_.
When thou goest unto an hotel in his company, the clerk shall not offer
thee a room upon the air-shaft; and the bell-boys shall answer thy ring
with flying feet and a glad smile. For an husband is as good as much
credit.
Yea, when thou goest forth | 158.065388 | 658 |
2023-11-16 18:18:25.1063330 | 1,230 | 389 |
Produced by Brian Coe, Graeme Mackreth and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
CAVALRY
FRIEDRICH
von BERNHARDI
CAVALRY
A POPULAR EDITION OF
"CAVALRY IN WAR AND PEACE"
BY
GENERAL FRIEDRICH von BERNHARDI
_Author of "How Germany Makes War"_
WITH A PREFACE BY
FIELD-MARSHAL SIR J.D.P. FRENCH
G.C.B., G.C.V.O., K.C.M.G.
THIS EDITION EDITED BY A. HILLIARD
ATTERIDGE FROM THE TRANSLATION BY
MAJOR G.T.M. BRIDGES, D.S.O.
4TH ROYAL (IRISH) DRAGOON GUARDS
NEW YORK
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
Copyright, 1914, by
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
EDITOR'S NOTE
General von Bernhardi is best known in England as a writer of the
"Jingo" School which has done so much to produce the war, but this
is only one side of his literary activity. He is also a writer of
recognised ability on the theory and practice of modern war. Sir John
French's introduction to the present work is sufficient testimony to
the value which is set upon his purely professional writings.
General von Bernhardi is a distinguished cavalry officer, and he writes
with remarkable independence on the special work of his own arm, never
hesitating to criticise the regulations of the German Army, when he
considers that they do not correspond to the actual conditions of war.
The book, though written in the first instance for cavalry officers,
will be found of interest to all who wish to understand what cavalry
is called upon to do and how it does it in the war of to-day. It
will be found to be full of useful instruction for not only officers
of the regular cavalry and the yeomanry, but also for officers and
non-commissioned officers of our cyclist battalions, whose work brings
them into such close relation with our cavalry in war and manoeuvres,
and who have to perform much the same work as that of the cavalry in
reconnaissance, screening, and outpost duties.
General von Bernhardi's work deals with cavalry in war and peace,
but much of the second part, dealing with peace duties and training,
is made up of a mass of detail on parade and riding-school work, as
carried out in the German Army. This has been omitted, but his remarks
on cavalry training at manoeuvres are included in an appendix. Sir John
French's introduction gives us the views of the greatest of our own
cavalry leaders, who is now commanding our Army in France.
PREFACE
All British soldiers will welcome this excellent translation by
Major Bridges of a new work by General von Bernhardi, whose intimate
knowledge of cavalry and brilliant writings have won for him such a
great European reputation.
Some prominence has lately been given in England to erroneous views
concerning the armament and tactics of cavalry. General von Bernhardi's
book contains sound doctrine on this subject, and will show to every
one who has an open mind and is capable of conviction by reasoned
argument how great is the future rôle of cavalry, and how determined
are the efforts of the great cavalry leaders of Europe to keep abreast
with the times, and to absorb, for the profit of the arm, every lesson
taught by experience, both in peace and war.
In all theories, whether expounded by so eminent an authority as
General von Bernhardi or by others who have not his claims to our
attention, there is, of course, a good deal that must remain a matter
of opinion, and a question open for free and frank discussion. But
I am convinced that some of the reactionary views recently aired in
England concerning cavalry will, if accepted and adopted, lead first
to the deterioration and then to the collapse of cavalry when next it
is called upon to fulfil its mission in war. I therefore recommend
not only cavalry officers, but officers of all arms and services, to
read and ponder this book, which provides a strengthening tonic for
weak minds which may have allowed themselves to be impressed by the
dangerous heresies to which I have alluded.
* * * * *
Is there such a thing as the cavalry spirit, and should it be our
object to develop this spirit, if it exists, to the utmost, or to
suppress it? General von Bernhardt thinks that this spirit exists and
should be encouraged, and I agree with him. It is not only possible
but necessary to preach the Army spirit, or, in other words, the close
comradeship of all arms in battle, and at the same time to develop
the highest qualities and the special attributes of each branch. The
particular spirit which we seek to encourage is different for each
arm. Were we to seek to endow cavalry with the tenacity and stiffness
of infantry, or to take from the mounted arm the mobility and the cult
of the offensive which are the breath of its life, we should ruin not
only the cavalry, but the Army besides. Those who scoff at the spirit,
whether of cavalry, of artillery, or of infantry, are people who have
had no practical experience of the actual training of troops in peace,
or of the personal leadership in war. Such men are blind guides indeed.
Another reason why I welcome this book is because it supplies a timely
answer to schoolmen who see in our South African experiences, some
of which they distort and many of | 158.425743 | 659 |
2023-11-16 18:18:25.1243840 | 161 | 159 |
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)
THE FLAG
AND OTHER POEMS
1918
BY
AMY REDPATH RODDICK
(_All rights reserved_)
Montreal
JOHN DOUGALL & SON
CONTENTS.
PAGE
THE BRITISH LANDS 5
THE FLAG 7
ENGLAND’S OLDEST COLONY 9
IN FORT-BOUND METZ 11
THE CALM THAT COMES WITH YEARS 13
GOING WEST 15
PERFECT IN THY PROMISE 18
| 158.443794 | 660 |
2023-11-16 18:18:25.7335910 | 26 | 238 |
Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team.
PUNCH,
OR THE | 159.053001 | 661 |
2023-11-16 18:18:25.7539740 | 1,108 | 399 |
Produced by Chris Curnow, Joseph Cooper, Christian
Boissonnas, The Internet Archive for some images and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
BIRDS AND ALL NATURE.
ILLUSTRATED BY COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY.
VOL. VI. NOVEMBER, 1899. NO. 4
CONTENTS
Page
A RARE HUMMING BIRD. 145
THE LADY'S SLIPPER. 146
JIM AND I. 149
WHY AND WHEREFORE OF THE COLORS OF BIRDS' EGGS. 152
TEA. 155
THE TOWHEE; CHEWINK. 158
WEE BABIES. 161
WISH-TON-WISH. 162
THE BEE AND THE FLOWER. 164
THE CANARY. 167
THE PAROQUET. 169
THE CAROLINA PAROQUET. 170
WHAT THE WOOD FIRE SAID TO A LITTLE BOY. 173
THE MISSISSIPPI. 174
INDIAN SUMMER. 176
THE CHIPMUNK. 179
TED'S WEATHER PROPHET. 180
THREATENED EXTERMINATION OF THE FUR SEAL. 181
THE PEACH. 182
THE TRANSFORMATION OF THE VICEROY. 185
BIRD LORE OF THE ANCIENT FINNS. 186
BIRD NOTES. 187
STORY OF A NEST. 188
COMMON MINERALS AND VALUABLE ORES. 191
WHEN ANIMALS ARE SEASICK. 192
A RARE HUMMING BIRD.
HOW ONE OF THESE LITTLE FAIRY CREATURES WAS TAMED.
P. W. H.
Instances are very rare where birds are familiar with human beings,
and the humming birds especially are considered unapproachable, yet a
naturalist tells how he succeeded in catching one in his hand. Several
cases are on record of attempts to tame humming birds, but when placed
in a cage they do not thrive, and soon die. The orange groves of
southern California abound in these attractive creatures, and several
can often be seen about the flowering bushes, seeking food or chasing
each other in play. "Once, when living on the <DW72>s of the Sierra
Madre mountains, where they were very plentiful, I accomplished the
feat of taking one in my hand," says the naturalist.
"I first noticed it in the garden, resting on a mustard stalk, and,
thinking to see how near I could approach, I gradually moved toward it
by pretending to be otherwise engaged, until I was within five feet of
it. The bird looked at me calmly and I moved slowly nearer, whistling
gently to attract its attention, as I began to think something was the
matter with it. It bent its head upon one side, eyed me sharply, then
flew to another stalk a few feet away, contemplating me as before.
Again I approached, taking care not to alarm it, and this time I was
almost within reaching distance before it flew away. The bird seemed to
have a growing confidence in me, and I became more and more deliberate
in my movements until I finally stood beside it, the little creature
gazing at me with its head tipped upon one side as if questioning what
I was about. I then withdrew and approached again, repeating this
several times before I stretched out my hand to take it, at which it
flew to another bush. But the next time it allowed me to grasp it, and
I had caught a wild bird open-handed without even the use of salt!"
One of the curious features of humming birds is that they are never
found in Europe, being exclusively American, ranging in this country
from the extreme north to the tropics, adding to the beauty of field
and grove, being veritable living gems. Nothing can approach the
humming bird in its gorgeousness of decoration. It is especially rich
in the metallic tints, seemingly splashed with red, blue, green, and
other bronzes. Some appear to be decked in a coat of mail, others
blazing in the sunlight with head-dresses and breast-plates that are
dazzling to behold and defy description. The smallest of birds, they
are one of the most beautiful of the many ornaments of our fields and
gardens.
In some islands of the south Pacific birds have been found that had
never seen a man before, and allowed themselves to be picked up, and
even had to be pushed out of peoples' way, it is said, yet they must
have been very unlike the birds that are generally known, or they would
have been more timid, even if they had not learned the fear of man.
THE LADY'S SLIPPER.
WILLIAM KERR HIGLEY,
Secretary of The Chicago Academy of Sciences.
| 159.073384 | 662 |
2023-11-16 18:18:25.8917230 | 378 | 124 |
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.)
THE MEDIAEVAL MIND
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
LONDON. BOMBAY. CALCUTTA
MELBOURNE
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
NEW YORK. BOSTON. CHICAGO
ATLANTA. SAN FRANCISCO
THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD.
TORONTO
THE MEDIAEVAL MIND
A HISTORY OF THE DEVELOPMENT
OF THOUGHT AND EMOTION
IN THE MIDDLE AGES
BY HENRY OSBORN TAYLOR
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. I
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON
1911
TO J. I. T.
PREFACE
The Middle Ages! They seem so far away; intellectually so preposterous,
spiritually so strange. Bits of them may touch our sympathy, please our
taste; their window-glass, their sculpture, certain of their stories,
their romances,--as if those straitened ages really were the time of
romance, which they were not, God knows, in the sense commonly taken. Yet
perhaps they were such intellectually, or at least spiritually. Their
_terra_--not for them _incognita_, though full of mystery and pall and
vaguer glory--was not the earth. It was the land of metaphysical
construction and the land of spiritual passion. There lay their romance,
thither pointed their veriest thinking, thither drew their utter | 159.211133 | 663 |
2023-11-16 18:18:25.8946530 | 1,051 | 410 |
Produced by Curtis Weyant, Barbara Kosker 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
SOUTH-WEST.
BY A YANKEE.
Where on my way I went;
------------A pilgrim from the North--
Now more and more attracted, as I drew
Nearer and nearer.
ROGERS' ITALY.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
NEW-YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, CLIFF-ST.
1835.
[Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1835,
by HARPER & BROTHERS, in the Clerk's Office of the Southern
District of New-York.]
TO THE
HON. JOHN A. QUITMAN,
EX-CHANCELLOR OF MISSISSIPPI,
THESE VOLUMES
ARE
RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED
BY
THE AUTHOR.
INTRODUCTION.
The succeeding pages grew out of a private correspondence, which the
author, at the solicitation of his friends, has been led to throw into
the present form, modifying in a great measure the epistolary vein, and
excluding, so far as possible, such portions of the original papers as
were of too personal a nature to be intruded upon the majesty of the
public;--while he has embodied, so far as was compatible with the new
arrangement, every thing likely to interest the general reader.
The author has not written exclusively as a traveller or journalist. His
aim has been to present the result of his experience and observations
during a residence of several years in the South-West. This extensive
and important section of the United States is but little known. Perhaps
there is no region between the Mississippi river and the Atlantic
shores, of which so little accurate information is before the public; a
flying tourist only, having occasionally added a note to his diary, as
he skirted its forest-lined borders.
New-York, Sept. 1835.
CONTENTS.
I.
A state of bliss--Cabin passenger--Honey-hunting--Sea-life--Its
effects--Green horns--Reading--Tempicide--Monotony--Wish for
excitement--Superlative misery--Log--Combustible materials--Cook
and bucket--Contrary winds--All ready, good Sirs--Impatient
passengers--Signal for sailing--Leave-takings--Sheet home--Under
weigh. Page 13
II.
A tar's headway on land--A gentleman's at sea--An agreeable trio
--Musical sounds--Helmsman--Supper Steward--A truism--Helmsman's
cry--Effect--Cases for bipeds--Lullaby--Sleep. 20
III.
Shakspeare--Suicide or a 'foul' deed--A conscientious table--
Fishing smacks--A pretty boy--Old Skipper, Skipper junior, and
little Skipper--A young Caliban--An alliterate Man--Fisherman--
Nurseries--Navy--The Way to train up a Child--Gulf Stream--
Humboldt--Crossing the Gulf--Ice ships--Yellow fields--Flying
fish--A game at bowls--Bermuda--A post of observation--Men,
dwellings, and women of Bermuda--St. George--English society--
Washing decks--Mornings at sea--Evenings at sea--A Moonlight
scene--The ocean on fire--Its phosphorescence--Hypotheses 25
IV.
Land--Abaco--Fleet--Hole in the Wall--A wrecker's hut--Bahama
vampyres--Light houses--Conspiracy--Wall of Abaco--Natural
Bridge--Cause--Night scene--Speak a packet ship--A floating
city--Wrecker's lugger--Signal of distress--A Yankee lumber
brig--Portuguese Man of War. 42
V.
A calm--A breeze on the water--The land of flowers--Juan Ponce de
Leon--The fountain of perpetual youth--An irremediable loss to
single gentlemen--Gulf Stream--New-Providence--Cuba--Pan of
Matanzas--Blue hills of Cuba--An armed cruiser--Cape St. Antonio
--Pirates--Enter the Mexican Gulf--Mobile--A southern winter--A
farewell to the North and a welcome to the South--The close of the
voyage--Balize--Fleet--West Indiaman--Portuguese polacre--Land ho!
--The land--Its formation--Pilot or "little brief authority"--
Light house--Revenue cutter--Newspapers--"The meeting of the
waters"--A singular appearance--A morning off the Balize--The
tow-boat 55
VI.
The Mississippi--The Whale--Description of tow-boats-- | 159.214063 | 664 |
2023-11-16 18:18:26.1473990 | 2 | 93 | 159.466809 | 665 |
|
2023-11-16 18:18:26.3141570 | 1,001 | 373 |
Produced by Giovanni Fini and The Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
FOLK–LORE AND LEGENDS
_ENGLISH_
FOLK–LORE
AND
LEGENDS
ENGLISH
[Illustration: DECORATION]
W. W. GIBBINGS
18 BURY ST., LONDON, W.C.
1890
INTRODUCTORY NOTE.
The old English Folklore Tales are fast dying out. The simplicity of
character necessary for the retaining of old memories and beliefs is
being lost, more rapidly in England, perhaps, than in any other part of
the world. Our folk are giving up the old myths for new ones. Before
remorseless “progress,” and the struggle for existence, the poetry
of life is being quickly blotted out. In editing this volume I have
endeavoured to select some of the best specimens of our Folklore. With
regard to the nursery tales, I have taken pains to give them as they
are in the earliest editions I could find. I must say, however, that,
while I have taken every care to alter only as much as was absolutely
necessary in these tales, some excision and slight alteration has at
times been required.
C. J. T.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
A Dissertation on Fairies, 1
Nelly the Knocker, 39
The Three Fools, 42
Some Merry Tales of the Wise Men of Gotham, 46
The Tulip Fairies, 54
The History of Jack and the Giants, 57
The Fairies’ Cup, 84
The White Lady, 86
A Pleasant and Delightful History of Thomas
Hickathrift, 89
The Spectre Coach, 117
The Baker’s Daughter, 123
The Fairy Children, 126
The History of Jack and the Beanstalk, 129
Johnny Reed’s Cat, 150
Lame Molly, 156
The Brown man of the Moors, 159
How the Cobbler cheated the Devil, 161
The Tavistock Witch, 165
The Worm of Lambton, 168
The Old Woman and the Crooked Sixpence, 174
The Yorkshire Boggart, 177
The Duergar, 181
The Barn Elves, 185
Legends of King Arthur, 187
Silky, 192
A DISSERTATION ON FAIRIES.
BY JOSEPH RITSON, ESQ.
The earliest mention of Fairies is made by Homer, if, that is, his
English translator has, in this instance, done him justice:—
“Where round the bed, whence Achelöus springs,
The wat’ry Fairies dance in mazy rings.”
(_Iliad_, B. xxiv. 617.)
These Nymphs he supposes to frequent or reside in woods, hills, the
sea, fountains, grottos etc., whence they are peculiarly called Naiads,
Dryads and Nereids:
“What sounds are those that gather from the shores,
The voice of nymphs that haunt the sylvan bowers,
The fair–hair’d dryads of the shady wood,
Or azure daughters of the silver flood?”
(_Odyss._ B. vi. 122.)
The original word, indeed, is _nymphs_, which, it must be confessed,
furnishes an accurate idea of the _fays_ (_fées_ or _fates_) of the
ancient French and Italian romances; wherein they are represented as
females of inexpressible beauty, elegance, and every kind of personal
accomplishment, united with magic or supernatural power; such, for
instance, as the Calypso of Homer, or the Alcina of Ariosto. Agreeably
to this idea it is that Shakespeare makes Antony say in allusion to
Cleopatra—
“To this great fairy I’ll commend thy acts,”
meaning this grand assemblage of power and beauty. Such, also, is the
character of the ancient nymphs, spoken of by the Roman poets, as
Virgil, for instance:
“Fortunatus et ille, deos qui novit agrestes,
P | 159.633567 | 666 |
2023-11-16 18:18:26.3723560 | 1,059 | 429 |
Produced by Close@Hand, Chris Pinfield 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.
Apparent typographical errors have been corrected. The use of hyphens
has been rationalised.
Notices of other books in the series have been moved to the end of the
text.
Small capitals have been replaced by full capitals, italics are
indicated by _underscores_, and bold font is indicated by +plus signs+.
Superscripts have been removed.
BELL'S ENGLISH HISTORY SOURCE BOOKS
_General Editors_: S. E. WINBOLT, M.A., and KENNETH BELL, M.A.
THE GROWTH OF PARLIAMENT
AND THE WAR WITH SCOTLAND
(1216-1307)
BY
W. D. ROBIESON, M.A.
ASSISTANT TO THE PROFESSOR OF HISTORY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF GLASGOW
[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 kind of subject-matter dealt with, as the amount they can read
into or extract from it.
In regard to choice of subject-matter, while trying to satisfy the
natural demand for certain "stock" documents of vital importance, we
hope to introduce much fresh and novel matter. It is our intention that
the majority of the extracts should be lively in style--that is,
personal, or descriptive, or rhetorical, or even strongly partisan--and
should not so much profess to give the truth as supply data for
inference. We aim at the greatest possible variety, and lay under
contribution letters, biographies, ballads and poems, diaries, debates,
and newspaper accounts. Economics, London, municipal, and social life
generally, and local history, are represented in these pages.
The order of the extracts is strictly chronological, each being
numbered, titled, and dated, and its authority given. The text is
modernised, where necessary, to the extent of leaving no difficulties in
reading.
We shall be most grateful to teachers and students who may send us
suggestions for improvement.
S. E. WINBOLT.
KENNETH BELL.
NOTE TO THIS VOLUME
I am indebted to Messrs. MacLehose and Co. for permission to reprint two
passages from Sir Herbert Maxwell's translation of the "Chronicle of
Lanercost," which appeared in the _Scottish Historical Review_.
W. D. R.
GLASGOW,
_January, 1914_
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PAGE
INTRODUCTION v
DATE
1216. CORONATION OF HENRY III. _Roger of Wendover_ 1
1217. THE FAIR OF LINCOLN _Annals of Dunstable_ 2
1217. THE BATTLE OF SANDWICH _Histoire des Ducs_ 4
1217. WHY LOUIS WAS UNSUCCESSFUL
IN ENGLAND _Canon of Barnwell_ 5
1217. CHARTER OF THE FOREST _Statutes of the Realm_ 5
1223. A WRESTLING-MATCH AND
DISTURBANCES IN LONDON _Annals of Dunstable_ 9
1224. THE COMING OF THE FRIARS _Monumenta Franc | 159.691766 | 667 |
2023-11-16 18:18:26.5284590 | 996 | 385 |
Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net.
[Illustration: _LEO'S FIRST APPEARANCE_]
LEO THE CIRCUS BOY;
or
LIFE UNDER THE GREAT WHITE CANVAS
BY CAPTAIN RALPH BONEHILL,
Author of "The Young Oarsmen of Lakeview," "The Rival
Bicyclists," "Gun and Sled," etc., etc.
CHICAGO:
_M. A. Donohue_ & Co.
_Copyright_, 1897.
_BY_
_W. L. Allison_ Co.
CONTENTS
- CHAPTER I.--A ROW AND ITS RESULT.
- CHAPTER II.--CAPTURING A RUNAWAY LION.
- CHAPTER III.--LEO LEAVES THE FARM.
- CHAPTER IV.--LEO JOINS THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH.
- CHAPTER V.--A LEAP OF GREAT PERIL.
- CHAPTER VI.--LEO ASSERTS HIS RIGHTS.
- CHAPTER VII.--LEO GAINS HIS LIBERTY.
- CHAPTER VIII.--AMONG THE CLOUDS IN A THUNDERSTORM.
- CHAPTER IX.--THE MAD ELEPHANT.
- CHAPTER X.--CAPTURING THE ELEPHANT.
- CHAPTER XI.--A CRIMINAL COMPACT.
- CHAPTER XII.--THE STOLEN CIRCUS TICKETS.
- CHAPTER XIII.--LEO MAKES A CHANGE.
- CHAPTER XIV.--LEO MAKES A NEW FRIEND.
- CHAPTER XV.--AN ACT NOT ON THE BILLS.
- CHAPTER XVI.--AN UNPLEASANT POSITION.
- CHAPTER XVII.--CARL SHOWS HIS BRAVERY.
- CHAPTER XVIII.--A WONDERFUL TRICK EXPLAINED.
- CHAPTER XIX.--WAMPOLE'S NEW SCHEME.
- CHAPTER XX.--ANOTHER STOP ON THE ROAD.
- CHAPTER XXI.--AN UNEXPECTED BATH.
- CHAPTER XXII.--WAMPOLE SHOWS HIS HAND.
- CHAPTER XXIII.--THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH ONCE MORE.
- CHAPTER XXIV.--IN THE CIRCUS RING AGAIN.
- CHAPTER XXV.--ANOTHER BALLOON TRIP.
- CHAPTER XXVI.--ADVENTURES AMID THE FLAMES.
- CHAPTER XXVII.--ESCAPE FROM THE BURNING FOREST.
- CHAPTER XXVIII.--THE RIVAL BALLOONISTS.
- CHAPTER XXIX.--PORLER'S MOVE.
- CHAPTER XXX.--MART KEENE'S STORY.
- CHAPTER XXXI.--A FALL FROM THE CLOUDS.
- CHAPTER XXXII.--MART A PRISONER.
- CHAPTER XXXIII.--LEO TO THE RESCUE.
- CHAPTER XXXIV.--THE END OF PORLER.
- CHAPTER XXXV.--A COWARDLY ATTACK.
- CHAPTER XXXVI.--ON THE ELEVATED TRACKS.
- CHAPTER XXXVII.--THE CAPTURE OF GRISWOLD.
- CHAPTER XXXVIII.--GOOD-BY TO THE CIRCUS BOY.
Leo the Circus Boy
CHAPTER I.--A ROW AND ITS RESULT.
"Land sakes alive, Daniel, look at that boy!"
"Where is he, Marthy?"
"Up there on the old apple tree a-hangin' down by his toes! My gracious,
does he wanter kill himself?"
"Thet's wot he does, Marthy," grumbled old Daniel Hawkins. "He'll do it,
jest so ez we kin pay his funeral expenses. Never seen sech a boy before
in my born days!"
"Go after him with the horsewhip, Daniel. Oh! goodness gracious, look at
thet now!"
And the woman, or, rather, Tartar, Mrs. Martha Hawkins, held up her
hands in terror as the boy on the apple tree suddenly gave a swing,
released his feet, and, with a graceful turn forward, landed on his feet
on the ground.
"Wot do yer mean by sech actions, yer young good-fer-nothin'?" cried
Daniel Hawkins, rushing forward, his face full of sudden rage. "Do yer
want ter break yer wuthless neck?"
"Not much, I don't," replied the boy, with a little smile creeping over
his sunburned, handsome face. "I'm afraid if I did that I would never
get over it, Mr. Hawkins."
"Don't try ter joke me, Leo Dunbar, or I'll break every bone in your
worthless body!"
"I'm not joking | 159.847869 | 668 |
2023-11-16 18:18:26.5397010 | 1,096 | 396 |
Produced by Judith Boss. HTML version by Al Haines.
THE AMATEUR CRACKSMAN
BY
E. W. HORNUNG
TO
A. C. D.
THIS FORM OF FLATTERY
THE AMATEUR CRACKSMAN
CONTENTS
THE IDES OF MARCH
A COSTUME PIECE
GENTLEMEN AND PLAYERS
LE PREMIER PAS
WILFUL MURDER
NINE POINTS OF THE LAW
THE RETURN MATCH
THE GIFT OF THE EMPEROR
THE IDES OF MARCH
I
It was half-past twelve when I returned to the Albany as a last
desperate resort. The scene of my disaster was much as I had left it.
The baccarat-counters still strewed the table, with the empty glasses
and the loaded ash-trays. A window had been opened to let the smoke
out, and was letting in the fog instead. Raffles himself had merely
discarded his dining jacket for one of his innumerable blazers. Yet he
arched his eyebrows as though I had dragged him from his bed.
"Forgotten something?" said he, when he saw me on his mat.
"No," said I, pushing past him without ceremony. And I led the way
into his room with an impudence amazing to myself.
"Not come back for your revenge, have you? Because I'm afraid I can't
give it to you single-handed. I was sorry myself that the others--"
We were face to face by his fireside, and I cut him short.
"Raffles," said I, "you may well be surprised at my coming back in this
way and at this hour. I hardly know you. I was never in your rooms
before to-night. But I fagged for you at school, and you said you
remembered me. Of course that's no excuse; but will you listen to
me--for two minutes?"
In my emotion I had at first to struggle for every word; but his face
reassured me as I went on, and I was not mistaken in its expression.
"Certainly, my dear man," said he; "as many minutes as you like. Have
a Sullivan and sit down." And he handed me his silver cigarette-case.
"No," said I, finding a full voice as I shook my head; "no, I won't
smoke, and I won't sit down, thank you. Nor will you ask me to do
either when you've heard what I have to say."
"Really?" said he, lighting his own cigarette with one clear blue eye
upon me. "How do you know?"
"Because you'll probably show me the door," I cried bitterly; "and you
will be justified in doing it! But it's no use beating about the bush.
You know I dropped over two hundred just now?"
He nodded.
"I hadn't the money in my pocket."
"I remember."
"But I had my check-book, and I wrote each of you a check at that desk."
"Well?"
"Not one of them was worth the paper it was written on, Raffles. I am
overdrawn already at my bank!"
"Surely only for the moment?"
"No. I have spent everything."
"But somebody told me you were so well off. I heard you had come in for
money?"
"So I did. Three years ago. It has been my curse; now it's all
gone--every penny! Yes, I've been a fool; there never was nor will be
such a fool as I've been.... Isn't this enough for you? Why don't you
turn me out?" He was walking up and down with a very long face instead.
"Couldn't your people do anything?" he asked at length.
"Thank God," I cried, "I have no people! I was an only child. I came
in for everything there was. My one comfort is that they're gone, and
will never know."
I cast myself into a chair and hid my face. Raffles continued to pace
the rich carpet that was of a piece with everything else in his rooms.
There was no variation in his soft and even footfalls.
"You used to be a literary little cuss," he said at length; "didn't you
edit the mag. before you left? Anyway I recollect fagging you to do my
verses; and literature of all sorts is the very thing nowadays; any
fool can make a living at it."
I shook my head. "Any fool couldn't write off my debts," said I.
"Then you have a flat somewhere?" he went on.
"Yes, in Mount Street."
"Well, what about the furniture?"
I laughed aloud in my misery. "There's been a bill of sale on every
stick for months!"
And at that Raffles stood still, with raised eyebrows and stern eyes
that I could meet the better now that he knew the worst; then, with a
shrug, he resumed his walk, and | 159.859111 | 669 |
2023-11-16 18:18:26.6273440 | 417 | 98 |
Produced by 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)
THE DISASTER WHICH ECLIPSED
HISTORY
THE
JOHNSTOWN
FLOOD
ILLUSTRATED
PUBLISHED BY
RICHARD K. FOX,
FRANKLIN SQ., NEW YORK.
PRICE, 10 CENTS.
Copyrighted 1889, by Richard K. Fox.
PARIS UNVEILED
--OR--
An Expose of Vice AND Crime
--IN THE--
GAY FRENCH CAPITAL.
Depicting in a truly graphic manner the
doings and sayings of the liveliest
people on the face of the earth
in the liveliest capital in
the world.
Handsomely and profusely illustrated with
innumerable Engravings.
Translated from the French Expressly for
Richard K. Fox
PRICE BY MAIL, 25 CENTS.
RICHARD K. FOX, Publisher,
Franklin Square, New York
HORROR!
THE JOHNSTOWN DISASTER WHICH ECLIPSED HISTORY.
A DEATH-DEALING DAM.
Hundreds upon Hundreds of People Swept Away by the Flood.
There is not one chance in a million that the Conemaugh river would
ever have been heard of in history had it not been for its action on
Friday evening, May 31.
The Conemaugh river is, or rather was, a simple little stream that
meandered through Northwestern Pennsylvania and made glad by its
peaceful murmurings those who dwelt by its bankside, or bore tokens of
affection in the way of pleasure-seeking picnickers, moonlight parties
or across-stream excursionists upon its placid bosom. It was one of
those | 159.946754 | 670 |
2023-11-16 18:18:26.9448900 | 1,139 | 396 |
E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online
Distributed Proofreading Canada Team (http://www.pgdpcanada.net)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 27115-h.htm or 27115-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/7/1/1/27115/27115-h/27115-h.htm)
or
(http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/7/1/1/27115/27115-h.zip)
THE CATTLE-BARON'S DAUGHTER
by
HAROLD BINDLOSS
Author of "Alton of Somasco," etc.
[Illustration: A FIERCE WHITE FROTHING ABOUT HIM.--Page 335.]
New York
Frederick A. Stokes Company
Publishers
Copyright, 1906, by
Frederick A. Stokes Company
This Edition published in September, 1906
All rights reserved
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I The Portent 1
II Hetty Takes Heed 12
III The Cattle-Barons 26
IV Muller Stands Fast 39
V Hetty Comes Home 50
VI The Incendiary 62
VII Larry Proves Intractable 72
VIII The Sheriff 85
IX The Prisoner 96
X On the Trail 110
XI Larry's Acquittal 122
XII The Sprouting of the Seed 134
XIII Under Fire 144
XIV Torrance's Warning 155
XV Hetty's Bounty 165
XVI Larry Solves the Difficulty 177
XVII Larry's Peril 189
XVIII A Futile Pursuit 201
XIX Torrance Asks a Question 212
XX Hetty's Obstinacy 224
XXI Clavering Appears Ridiculous 238
XXII The Cavalry Officer 250
XXIII Hetty's Avowal 262
XXIV The Stock Train 272
XXV Cheyne Relieves His Feelings 286
XXVI Larry's Reward 296
XXVII Clavering's Last Card 309
XXVIII Larry Rides to Cedar 321
XXIX Hetty Decides 331
XXX Larry's Wedding Day 343
XXXI Torrance Rides Away 355
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"Come Down!" _Facing page_ 48
"She'll shoot me before she means to." 66
A white face and shadowy head, from which
the fur cap had fallen. 114
"Aren't you a trifle late?" 160
There was a note in her voice that set the man's
heart beating furiously. 268
A fierce white frothing about him. _Frontispiece_
THE CATTLE-BARON'S DAUGHTER
I
THE PORTENT
The hot weather had come suddenly, at least a month earlier than usual,
and New York lay baking under a scorching sun when Miss Hetty Torrance sat
in the coolest corner of the Grand Central Depot she could find. It was by
her own wish she had spent the afternoon in the city unattended, for Miss
Torrance was a self-reliant young woman; but it was fate and the
irregularity of the little gold watch, which had been her dead mother's
gift, that brought her to the depot at least a quarter of an hour too
soon. But she was not wholly sorry, for she had desired more solitude and
time for reflection than she found in the noisy city, where a visit to an
eminent modiste had occupied most of her leisure. There was, she had
reasons for surmising, a decision of some moment to be made that night,
and as yet she was no nearer arriving at it than she had been when the
little note then in her pocket had been handed her.
Still, it was not the note she took out when she found a seat apart from
the hurrying crowd, but a letter from her father, Torrance, the
Cattle-Baron, of Cedar Range. It was terse and to the point, as usual, and
a little smile crept into the girl's face as she read.
"Your letter to hand, and so long as you have a good time don't worry
about the bills. You'll find another five hundred dollars at the bank when
you want them. Thank God, I can give my daughter what her mother should
have had. Two years since I've seen my little girl, and now it seems that
somebody else is wanting her! Well, we were made men and women, and if you
had been meant to live alone dabbling in music you wouldn't have been
given your mother's face. Now, I don't often express myself this way, but
I've had | 160.2643 | 671 |
2023-11-16 18:18:27.0789950 | 310 | 18 |
E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading
Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by
Internet Archive (https://archive.org)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustration.
See 57918-h.htm or 57918-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/57918/57918-h/57918-h.htm)
or
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/57918/57918-h.zip)
Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
https://archive.org/details/pirateofjasperpe00meig
THE PIRATE OF JASPER PEAK
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO · DALLAS
ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO
MACMILLAN & CO., Limited
LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA
MELBOURNE
THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd.
TORONTO
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: Close to the hearth a big chair had been drawn and in
this some one was sitting.]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE PIRATE OF JASPER PEAK
by
ADAIR ALDON
Author of “The Island of Appledore,” etc.
With Frontispiece
New York | 160.398405 | 672 |
2023-11-16 18:18:27.3857770 | 1,027 | 482 | HAWTHORNE, VOLUME I (OF 2)***
E-text prepared by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made
available by Internet Archive (http://archive.org)
Note: Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
http://archive.org/details/lovelettersofnath01hawtrich
Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
LOVE LETTERS OF NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE
Privately Printed
The Society of the Dofobs
Chicago
1907
Copyright, 1907, by
William K. Bixby
INTRODUCTORY
In "Hawthorne and His Wife" and "Memories of Hawthorne" both Julian
Hawthorne and his sister, Rose Hawthorne Lathrop, have given citations
from the letters written by Nathaniel Hawthorne to Miss Sophia Peabody
during their years of courtship. These excerpts were free and
irregular, often, and evidently with specific intent, taken out of
order and run together as if for the purpose of illustrating a point
or emphasizing a particular phase of character. While the extracts
were sufficiently numerous for the object desired, and while they gave
an agreeable glimpse of an interesting period of Hawthorne's life,
they were necessarily too fragmentary, too lacking in continuity, to
convey any adequate idea of the simplicity, beauty, humor and
tenderness of the letters, even considered in the matter of a literary
style.
The original letters were acquired by Mr. William K. Bixby of St.
Louis, and, at the urgent request of the Society of the Dofobs, of
which he is a highly esteemed and honored member, turned over to the
society with the understanding that they should be published for
presentation to members only. It was specified also that great care
should be exercised in going over the letters, that no apparent
confidences should be violated and that all private and personal
references, which might wound the feelings of the living or seem to
speak ill of the dead, should be eliminated. It is indeed remarkable
that in the large number of letters presented there was practically
nothing which called for elision, nothing in the lighter mood which
breathed a spirit beyond the innocent limits of good-natured banter.
The work of the editors was consequently easy and grateful, and the
task one of delight.
It is not claimed that these love letters, so-called, comprise the
entire correspondence on Hawthorne's part between Miss Peabody and
himself during the three-and-one-half years of courtship. Naturally
a series of letters begun sixty-eight years ago, with all the
vicissitudes of a shifting life, would not be preserved intact. But
while some letters have been lost or destroyed, and others may not
have been permitted for one reason or another to leave the possession
of the family, the continuity here preserved is practically as
complete as could be desired and fully illustrative of the qualities
which make them so worthy of publication. In giving these letters to
its members the society has conformed strictly to the exactions of the
manuscript save in a few cases perhaps where haste on the part of the
writer omitted a word, slightly obscuring the sense. It has been
deemed advisible also to omit all notes or paragraphs of explanation.
Happily the letters are sufficiently intelligible without such notes,
and the conclusion has been reached that no needed purpose can be
served by minor explanatory details relating to individuals mentioned
or incidents suggested. It has been thought best as well to add a few
letters extending beyond the period of courtship. No defence is
necessary, for to the last they are "love letters" in the purest and
truest sense of the words. This will be vindicated in the perusal.
In selecting two letters for facsimile reproduction the choice has
fallen upon the letter from Brook Farm under date of April 13, 1841,
and that from Salem written in the following year. Both illustrate the
quiet, quaint humor of Hawthorne. In the Brook Farm letter he sketches
drily his thinly veiled impressions of the community, and herein will
be found the famous reference to "Miss Fuller's transcendental heifer"
which has fallen little short of immortality. Writing from the old
home in Salem he makes his letter conspicuous by the fact that he
prophesies banteringly--doubtless he little knew how truly--his own
coming fame and the public craze to inspect his belongings. This
humorous tribute to himself, in its mock, self-satisfied strain,
suggests not so much the mental state of Horace predicting his
| 160.705187 | 673 |
2023-11-16 18:18:27.4805380 | 1,007 | 388 |
Produced by RichardW, 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.)
TRANSCRIBER NOTE:
Original spelling and grammar has been mostly retained, with some
exceptions. The use of hyphenation and quotation marks marks in the
book is a bit haphazard. Some corrections have been made.
More details about corrections and changes are provided in the
TRANSCRIBER ENDNOTE.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _R. Pitcher Woodward at his journey's end._]
* * * * *
ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK
A Tempestuous Voyage of Four
Thousand and Ninety-Six Miles
Across the American Continent on
a Burro, in 340 Days and 2 Hours
STARTING WITHOUT A DOLLAR AND
EARNING MY WAY
BY
R. PITCHER WOODWARD
(PYTHAGORAS POD)
AUTHOR OF
"TRAINS THAT MET IN THE BLIZZARD"
Containing Thirty-nine Pictures from
Photographs Taken "en Voyage".
1902
I. H. BLANCHARD CO., PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK
COPYRIGHT, 1902,
BY
R. PITCHER WOODWARD
[Illustration]
* * * * *
CONTENTS.
PART I.
I. Madison Square to Yonkers 11
II. Donkey's many ailments 19
III. Polishing shoes at Vassar 27
IV. An even trade no robbery 35
V. The donkey on skates 42
VI. Mac held for ransom 51
VII. I mop the hotel floor 60
VIII. Footpads fire upon us 68
IX. In a haymow below zero 74
X. An asinine snowball 83
XI. One bore is enough 90
XII. At a country dance 98
XIII. A peculiar, cold day 105
XIV. I bargain for eggs 111
XV. Gypsy girl tells fortune 116
XVI. All the devils are here 123
XVII. Darkest hour before dawn 132
XVIII. Champagne avenue, Chicago 142
PART II.
BY PYE POD AND MAC A'RONY.
XIX. Donk causes a sensation 153
XX. A donkey for Alderman 158
XXI. A donkey without a father 169
XXII. Rat trap and donkey's tail 173
XXIII. Mac crosses the Mississippi 178
XXIV. Pod hires a valet 183
XXV. Done by a horsetrader 190
XXVI. Pod under arrest 197
XXVII. Adventure in a sleeping bag 208
XXVIII. Mayor rides Mac A'Rony 213
XXIX. Across the Missouri in wheelbarrow 219
XXX. Pod in insane asylum 224
XXXI. Narrow escape in quicksand 237
XXXII. At Buffalo Bill's ranch 243
XXXIII. Fourth of July in the desert 250
XXXIV. Bitten by a rattler 253
XXXV. Havoc in a cyclone 260
XXXVI. Two pretty dairy maids 265
XXXVII. Donks climb Pike's Peak 273
XXXVIII. Sights in <DW36> Creek 280
XXXIX. Baby girl named for Pod 287
XL. Treed by a silvertip bear 293
XLI. Nearly drowned in the Rockies 304
XLII. Donkey shoots the chutes 309
XLIII. Paint sign with donk's tail 319
XLIV. Swim two rivers in Utah 326
XLV. Initiated to Mormon faith 339
XLVI. Typewriting on a donkey 343
XL | 160.799948 | 674 |
2023-11-16 18:18:27.5255280 | 161 | 150 |
Produced by David Widger
MEMOIRS OF LOUIS XV. AND XVI.
Being Secret Memoirs of Madame du Hausset,
Lady's Maid to Madame de Pompadour,
and of an unknown English Girl
and the Princess Lamballe
BOOK 7.
SECTION XIII.
Editor in continuation:
I am again, for this and the following chapter, compelled to resume the
pen in my own person, and quit the more agreeable office of a transcriber
for my illustrious patroness.
I have already mentioned that the Princesse de Lamballe, on first
returning from England to France, anticipated great advantages from the
recall of the emigrants. The desertion of France by so many of the
powerful could not but be a death | 160.844938 | 675 |
2023-11-16 18:18:27.7341810 | 4,099 | 55 |
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 were ordered to be sold at auction; the
prices immediately fell to the lowest point, and the men who had staked
in one enterprise their zeal, skill and money, were ruined at a blow.
Every man in such a crisis, must mentally recoil upon himself. Habits
of application, reading, and an early desire to be useful, had sustained
me at a prior period of life, through the dangers and fascinations of
jovial company. There was in this habit or temper of room-seclusion, a
pleasing resource of a conservative character, which had filled up the
intervals of my busiest hours; and when business itself came to a stand,
it had the effect to aid me in balancing and poising my mind, while I
prepared to enter a wider field, and indeed, to change my whole plan of
life. If it did not foster a spirit of right thought and
self-dependence, it, at least, gave a degree of tranquillity to the
intervals of a marked pause, and, perhaps, flattered the ability to act.
Luckily I was still young, and with good animal spirits, and a sound
constitution I resolved I would not go down so. The result of seven
years of strenuous exertions, applied with persevering diligence and
success, was cast to the winds, but it was seven years of a young man's
life, and I thought it could be repaired by time and industry. What the
east withheld, I hoped might be supplied by another quarter. I turned my
thoughts to the west, and diligently read all I could find on the
subject. The result of the war of 1812, (if this contest had brought no
golden showers on American manufacturers, as I could honestly testify in
my own case,) had opened to emigration and enterprise the great area
west of the Alleghanies. The armies sent out to battle with Indian, and
other foes, on the banks of the Wabash, the Illinois, the Detroit, the
Raisin and the Miami of the Lakes, had opened to observation attractive
scenes for settlement; and the sword was no sooner cast aside, than
emigrants seized hold of the axe and the plough. This result was worth
the cost of the whole contest, honour and glory included. The total
prostration of the moneyed system of the country, the effects of
city-lot and other land speculations, while the system was at its full
flow, and the very backward seasons of 1816 and 1817, attended with late
and early frosts, which extensively destroyed the corn crop in the
Atlantic states, all lent their aid in turning attention towards the
west and south-west, where seven new states have been peopled and
organized, within the brief period to which these reminiscences apply:
namely, Indiana, Illinois, Mississippi, Missouri, Alabama, Arkansas and
Michigan, besides the flourishing territories of Wisconsin and Iowa, and
the more slowly advancing territory of Florida. It appeared to me, that
information, geographical and other, of such a wide and varied region,
whose boundaries were but ill defined, must be interesting at such a
period; and I was not without the hope that the means of my future
advancement would be found in connexion with the share I might take in
the exploration of it. With such views I resolved to go west. This
feeling I find to be expressed on the back of an old slip of an account
of the period:
"I will go by western fountain,
I will wander far and wide;
Till some sunny spot invite me,
Till some guardian bid me bide.
"Snow or tempest--plain the drearest
Shall oppose a feeble bar,
Since I go from friends the dearest,
'Tis no matter then how far.
"On!--'tis useless here to dally;
On!--I can but make or mar;
Since my fortune leads to sally,
'Tis no matter then how far."
Of the "seven years" to which allusion has been made I had spent four in
New England a land, which is endeared to me at this distance of time, by
recollections of hospitality, virtue, and manly intelligence.
While engaged in the direction of the business above named, I had
prepared the notes and materials for my first publication, in which I
aimed to demonstrate the importance of an acquaintance with Chemistry
and Mineralogy in the preparation and fusion of numerous substances in
the mineral kingdom, which result in the different conditions of the
various glasses, enamels, &c. I had, from early youth, cultivated a
taste for mineralogy, long indeed it may be said, before I knew that
mineralogy was a science; and, as opportunities increased, had been led
by my inquiries, (which I followed with ardour but with very slight
helps,) to add to this some knowledge of elementary chemistry and
experimental philosophy, and to supply myself, from Boston and New York,
with books, apparatus, and tests. I do not know that there were any
public lectures on mineralogy, &c. at this time, say from 1810 to '16;
certainly, there were none within my reach. I gleaned from the best
sources I could, and believe that the late Professor Frederick Hall was
the only person to whom I was indebted even for occasional instructions
in these departments. He was a man strongly devoted to some of the
natural sciences, particularly mineralogy; and was erudite in the old
authors on the subject, whom he liked to quote; and I may say that I
continued to enjoy his confidence and friendship to the time of his
death, which happened in 1843. From such sources, from the diligent
reading of books, and from experiments, conducted with the advantage of
having under my charge extensive works, at various times, in the states
of New York, Vermont and New Hampshire, I drew the principles which
formed the basis of my treatise on Vitreology. With this work in hand, I
left Keene, in New Hampshire, early in the winter of 1817; and, crossing
the Connecticut river at Brattleboro', proceeded over the Green
Mountains, by the route of Bennington, to Albany, and thence returned to
my father's house in western New York. No time was lost in issuing
proposals for the work; and I had the satisfaction to find that the
portions published, and the entire plan and merits of it were warmly
approved by the pen of the late Mr. Maynard of Utica, and by several
liberal minded and intelligent persons. Before quitting New England, I
had determined to go to the Mississippi valley, and had begun to study
its geography; and I now resolved to proceed, without unnecessary delay.
Means constitute the first object of solicitude in all such
undertakings. The ebbing tide of manufacturing prosperity to which I
have referred, had left me very poor. From the fragments of former
acquisitions, for which, however, I was exclusively indebted to my own
industry, I raised a small sum of money--much smaller I think than most
men would be willing to start with, who had resolved to go so far. I
had, in truth, but sixty dollars in the world; but I possessed a very
good wardrobe, and some other personal means, such as it may be supposed
will adhere to a man who has lived in abundance for many years. I put up
a miniature collection of mineralogical specimens, to serve as a
standard of comparison in the west, a few implements for analysis, some
books which I thought it would be difficult to meet with in that region,
and some drawing materials. I had connected these things in some way
with my future success. In other respects, I had the means, as above
hinted, of making a respectable appearance. Thus prepared, I bade adieu
to my father and mother, and also to three sisters and a brother, all
younger than myself, and set forward. The winter of 1818 had opened
before I reached my brother's house at Geneva, in western New York. From
this point I determined to leave the main track, through the Genessee
county west, and to strike the head waters of the Alleghany river, so as
to descend that stream with the spring flood.
My brother drove me in his own sleigh, as far as Angelica. By the time
we reached that place, being no traveller and much fatigued with the
intricacies and roughness of the road, he was fain to give over his
undertaking, and I parted from him, sending back the sleigh from Olean,
to take him home.
The Alleghany river was locked with ice when I reached it. I had an
opportunity to cross it on foot, and to examine in the vicinity those
evidences of the coal formation which are found in masses of bituminous
shale, slaty coal and petroleum. The river began to open about the
middle of March. I left Olean in the first ark for the season, borne
onwards down the sweeping Alleghany at the top of the flood, often
through winding channels, and once in danger of being precipitated over
a mill dam, by taking the wrong channel.
On another occasion, just as we were coming to the division of the
channel, at the head of a group of islands, a tall Seneca Indian,
standing in the bow of a very long pine canoe, cried out, in a tone of
peculiar emphasis, "Keep to the right--I speak it." This direction we
followed, and were saved from another mishap. We tied the ark to the
shore at night, built a fire on the bank and cooked a supper. On
passing the Conowonga, it was at the height of its flood, and appeared
to bring in as much water as the Alleghany. We stopped at the noted
chief Cornplanter's village, and also to gratify a reminiscent
curiosity, at the mouth of French Creek, connected with Washington's
perilous adventure in visiting Fort de Boef, now Erie. At Kittaning, a
great scow ferry boat was rowed and managed by two women or girls with a
degree of muscular exertion, or rather ease, which would put to the
blush many a man east or west of the Alleghanies. The tone, air, and
masculine strength of these girl-boatmen, reminded me of nothing this
side of Rollin's description of the Amazons--save that the same
provision was not apparent for drawing the bow. Bold hills line both
banks of the river along its upper parts, and continue, indeed, at
farther intervals apart, to very near the junction of the Monongahela;
but long before this point, the stream is one of noble dimensions,
clear, broad, and strong. After a voyage of exciting and vivid interest,
I reached and landed at Pittsburgh.
NO. II.
It is Dr. Johnson, I think, who says, that we take slight occasions to
be pleased. At least, I found it so, on the present occasion; the day of
my arrival was my birth day, and it required but little stretch of
imagination to convert the scene upon which I had now entered, into a
new world. It was new to me.--I was now fairly in the great geological
valley of the west, the object of so many anticipations.
The ark, in which I had descended the Allegany, put ashore near the
point of land, which is formed by the junction of the Monongahela with
this fine clear stream. The dark and slowly moving waters of the one,
contrasted strongly with the sparkling velocity of the other. I felt a
buoyancy of spirits as I leapt ashore, and picked up some of its clean
pebbles to see what kind of geological testimony they bore to the actual
character of their parent beds in the Apalachian range.
"What shall I pay you, for my passage, from Olean," said I, to the
gentleman with whom I had descended, and at whose ark-table I had found
a ready seat with his family. "Nothing, my dear sir," he replied with a
prompt and friendly air,--"Your cheerful aid in the way, taking the oars
whenever the case required it, has more than compensated for any claims
on that score, and I only regret that you are not going further with
us."
Committing my baggage to a carman, I ascended the bank of diluvial earth
and pebbles with all eagerness, and walked to the point of land where
Fort Pitt (old Fort Du Quesne) had stood. It is near this point that the
Alleghany and Monongahela unite, and give birth to the noble Ohio. It is
something to stand at the head of such a stream. The charm of novelty is
beyond all others. I could realize, in thought, as I stood here, gazing
on the magnificent prospect of mingling waters, and their prominent and
varied shores, the idea, which is said to be embodied in the old Mingo
substantive-exclamation of O-he-o! a term, be it remembered, which the
early French interpreters at | 161.053591 | 676 |
2023-11-16 18:18:27.9015730 | 1,025 | 394 |
E-text prepared by deaurider, Barry Abrahamsen, and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made
available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org)
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
file which includes the original illustrations.
See 57428-h.htm or 57428-h.zip:
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/57428/57428-h/57428-h.htm)
or
(http://www.gutenberg.org/files/57428/57428-h.zip)
Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive. See
https://archive.org/details/petervischer00head
Transcriber’s note:
Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).
The reader will encounter "[TN1]" once. [TN1] identifies an
error in the original book: “ETSAXA” should have been “ET SAXA”.
The reader will encounter [TN2] three times. [TN2] identifies
a place where a character could not be reproduced and was
replaced by an apostrophe (example: "PETR’[TN2]).
HANDBOOKS OF THE GREAT
CRAFTSMEN. EDITED BY
G. C. WILLIAMSON, LITT.D.
PETER VISCHER
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Handbooks of the Great Craftsmen.
--------------
Illustrated Monographs, Biographical and Critical, on the Great
Craftsmen and Workers of Ancient and Modern Times.
Edited by G. C. WILLIAMSON, Litt.D.
Imperial 16mo, with numerous Illustrations, 5s. net each.
First Volumes of the Series
THE PAVEMENT MASTERS OF SIENA. Workers in Graffito. By R. H. HOBART
CUST, M.A.
PETER VISCHER. Bronze Founder. By CECIL HEADLAM, B.A.
THE IVORY WORKERS OF THE MIDDLE AGES. By A. M. CUST.
Others to follow.
--------------
LONDON: GEORGE BELL AND SONS
NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN CO.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: STEIN PHOTO.] [FROM A DRAWING IN POSSESSION OF T. A.
STEIN, NÜRNBERG
1. PORTRAIT OF PETER VISCHER]
PETER VISCHER
by
CECIL HEADLAM, B.A.
Formerly Demy of Magdalen College, Oxford; Author of
“The Story of Nuremberg,” etc.
[Illustration: Publisher’s Logo]
London
George Bell and Sons
1901
Chiswick Press: Charles Whittingham and Co.
Tooks Court, Chancery Lane, London.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PREFACE
THE Germans have by nature the gift of working in metal, and, among
them, in the realms of bronze, Peter Vischer stands easily first. His
position as a craftsman may, in fact, be compared with that held by his
contemporary and fellow citizen, Albert Dürer, as an artist. The history
of his works and of those of his house, have a peculiar interest to the
student of art, inasmuch as they illustrate the gradual but easily
traceable passage of the German craftsmen from the style of late Gothic
to that of complete neo-paganism, and, from the school of the Northern
painters and sculptors to that of the great Italian masters
successively.
I speak of the works of Peter Vischer “and his house,” because, in
tracing this development, we have to take into consideration not only
his works but also those of his father Hermann and of his sons, Hermann
and Peter and Hans. The pendulum of criticism has indeed swung more than
once since the Emperor Maximilian used to visit Peter Vischer’s foundry
in Nuremberg, and the questions as to what are actually the works of the
Master and what position is to be assigned to him in the world of art,
have been answered in more ways than one. For many years, owing partly
to the ignorance of most people, and partly no doubt to the greed of the
few, the tendency was to attribute to this one famous craftsman the
works of many. At one time almost any work of art in bronze to be found
throughout the length and breadth of Germany was attributed to Peter
Vischer, just as a Talleyrand or a Sydney Smith has had witticisms of
every date and every quality fathered upon him.
From unreasoning praise, again, men passed to equally undiscriminating
disparagement. Heidel | 161.220983 | 677 |
2023-11-16 18:18:27.9600200 | 1,044 | 413 |
Produced by Anne Folland, Charles Franks and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team
EXPOSITIONS OF HOLY SCRIPTURE
ALEXANDER MACLAREN, D. D., Litt. D.
GENESIS, EXODUS, LEVITICUS AND NUMBERS
EXPOSITIONS OF HOLY SCRIPTURE
ALEXANDER MACLAREN, D. D., Litt. D.
GENESIS
CONTENTS
THE VISION OF CREATION (Genesis i. 26--ii. 3)
HOW SIN CAME IN (Genesis iii. 1-15)
EDEN LOST AND RESTORED (Genesis iii. 24; Revelation xxii. 14)
THE GROWTH AND POWER OF SIN (Genesis iv. 3-16)
WHAT CROUCHES AT THE DOOR (Genesis iv. 7, R.V.)
WITH, BEFORE, AFTER (Genesis v. 22; Genesis xvii. 1; Deuteronomy xiii.
4)
THE COURSE AND CROWN OF A DEVOUT LIFE (Genesis v. 24)
THE SAINT AMONG SINNERS (Genesis vi. 9-22)
'CLEAR SHINING AFTER RAIN' (Genesis viii. 1-22)
THE SIGN FOR MAN AND THE REMEMBRANCER FOR GOD (Genesis ix. 8-17)
AN EXAMPLE OF FAITH (Genesis xii. 1-9)
ABRAM AND THE LIFE OF FAITH
GOING FORTH (Genesis xii. 5)
COMING IN
THE MAN OF FAITH (Genesis xii. 6, 7)
LIFE IN CANAAN (Genesis xii. 8)
THE IMPORTANCE OF A CHOICE (Genesis xiii. 1-13)
ABBAM THE HEBREW (Genesis xiv. 13)
GOD'S COVENANT WITH ABRAM (Genesis xv. 5-18)
THE WORD THAT SCATTERS FEAR (Genesis xv. 1)
FAITH AND RIGHTEOUSNESS (Genesis xv. 6)
WAITING FAITH REWARDED AND STRENGTHENED BY NEW REVELATIONS (Genesis
xvii. 1-9)
A PETULANT WISH (Genesis xvii. 18)
'BECAUSE OF HIS IMPORTUNITY' (Genesis xviii. l6-33)
THE INTERCOURSE OF GOD AND HIS FRIEND
THE SWIFT DESTROYER (Genesis xix. 15-26)
FAITH TESTED AND CROWNED (Genesis xxii. 1-14)
THE CROWNING TEST AND TRIUMPH OF FAITH
JEHOVAH-JIREH (Genesis xxii. 14)
GUIDANCE IN THE WAY (Genesis xxiv. 27)
THE DEATH OF ABRAHAM (Genesis xxv. 8)
A BAD BARGAIN (Genesis xxv. 27-34)
POTTAGE _versus_ BIRTHRIGHT (Genesis xxv. 34)
THE FIRST APOSTLE OF PEACE AT ANY PRICE (Genesis xxvi. 12-25)
THE HEAVENLY PATHWAY AND THE EARTHLY HEART (Genesis xxviii. 10-22)
MAHANAIM: THE TWO CAMPS (Genesis xxxii. 1, 2)
THE TWOFOLD WRESTLE--GOD'S WITH JACOB AND JACOB'S WITH GOD (Genesis
xxxii. 9-12)
A FORGOTTEN VOW (Genesis xxxv. 1)
THE TRIALS AND VISIONS OF DEVOUT YOUTH (Genesis xxxvii. 1-11)
MAN'S PASSIONS AND GOD'S PURPOSE (Genesis xxxvii. 23-36)
GOODNESS IN A DUNGEON (Genesis xl. 1-15)
JOSEPH, THE PRIME MINISTER (Genesis xli. 38-48)
RECOGNITION AND RECONCILIATION (Genesis xlv. 1-15)
JOSEPH, THE PARDONER AND PRESERVER
GROWTH BY TRANSPLANTING (Genesis xlvii. 1-12)
TWO RETROSPECTS OF ONE LIFE (Genesis xlvii. 9; Genesis xlviii. 15, 16)
'THE HANDS OF THE MIGHTY GOD OF JACOB' (Genesis xlix. 23, 24)
THE SHEPHERD, THE STONE OF ISRAEL (Genesis xlix. 24)
A CALM EVENING, PROMISING A BRIGHT MORNING (Genesis l. 14-26)
JOSEPH'S FAITH (Genesis l. 25)
A COFFIN IN EGYPT (Genesis l. 26)
THE VISION OF CREATION
'And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our
likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of
the sea | 161.27943 | 678 |
2023-11-16 18:18:28.0817950 | 404 | 108 |
Produced by Marcia Brooks, Cindy Beyer, Ross Cooling and
the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at
http://www.pgdpcanada.net with images provided by The
Internet Archives-US
AMERICAN SCENERY;
OR,
LAND, LAKE, AND RIVER
ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRANSATLANTIC NATURE.
FROM DRAWINGS BY W. H. BARTLETT,
ENGRAVED IN THE FIRST STYLE OF THE ART,
BY
R. WALLIS, J. COUSEN, WILLMORE, BRANDARD, ADLARD, RICHARDSON, &c.
THE LITERARY DEPARTMENT
BY N. P. WILLIS, ESQ.
AUTHOR OF “PENCILLINGS BY THE WAY”, “INKLINGS OF ADVENTURE” ETC.
VOL. II.
LONDON:
G E O R G E V I R T U E, 26, I V Y L A N E.
MDCCCXL.
LONDON:—RICHARD CLAY, PRINTER,
BREAD STREET HILL.
CONTENTS AND LIST OF ENGRAVINGS
TO VOLUME II.
* * * * *
_Ch._ _Page_
1 The Catterskill Falls, from below 1
2 The Catterskill Falls, from above the Ravine 2
3 Winter Scene on the Catterskills 4
4 Rogers’ Slide, Lake George 7
5 The Gothic Church, Newhaven 9
6 Niagara Falls from the top of the Ladder on the American side 11
7 Saw-Mill at Centre Harbour, Lake Winnipiseogee 12
8 Little Falls, on the Mohawk | 161.401205 | 679 |
2023-11-16 18:18:28.1194520 | 1,036 | 425 |
Transcribed from the 1896 “Lizzie Leigh and Other Tales” Macmillan and
Co. edition by David Price, email [email protected]. Proofed by Audrey
Emmitt and Eugenia Corbo.
THE POOR CLARE
CHAPTER I.
DECEMBER 12th, 1747.—My life has been strangely bound up with
extraordinary incidents, some of which occurred before I had any
connection with the principal actors in them, or indeed, before I even
knew of their existence. I suppose, most old men are, like me, more
given to looking back upon their own career with a kind of fond interest
and affectionate remembrance, than to watching the events—though these
may have far more interest for the multitude—immediately passing before
their eyes. If this should be the case with the generality of old
people, how much more so with me!... If I am to enter upon that
strange story connected with poor Lucy, I must begin a long way back. I
myself only came to the knowledge of her family history after I knew her;
but, to make the tale clear to any one else, I must arrange events in the
order in which they occurred—not that in which I became acquainted with
them.
There is a great old hall in the north-east of Lancashire, in a part they
called the Trough of Bolland, adjoining that other district named Craven.
Starkey Manor-house is rather like a number of rooms clustered round a
gray, massive, old keep than a regularly-built hall. Indeed, I suppose
that the house only consisted of a great tower in the centre, in the days
when the Scots made their raids terrible as far south as this; and that
after the Stuarts came in, and there was a little more security of
property in those parts, the Starkeys of that time added the lower
building, which runs, two stories high, all round the base of the keep.
There has been a grand garden laid out in my days, on the southern <DW72>
near the house; but when I first knew the place, the kitchen-garden at
the farm was the only piece of cultivated ground belonging to it. The
deer used to come within sight of the drawing-room windows, and might
have browsed quite close up to the house if they had not been too wild
and shy. Starkey Manor-house itself stood on a projection or peninsula
of high land, jutting out from the abrupt hills that form the sides of
the Trough of Bolland. These hills were rocky and bleak enough towards
their summit; lower down they were clothed with tangled copsewood and
green depths of fern, out of which a gray giant of an ancient forest-tree
would tower here and there, throwing up its ghastly white branches, as if
in imprecation, to the sky. These trees, they told me, were the remnants
of that forest which existed in the days of the Heptarchy, and were even
then noted as landmarks. No wonder that their upper and more exposed
branches were leafless, and that the dead bark had peeled away, from
sapless old age.
Not far from the house there were a few cottages, apparently, of the same
date as the keep; probably built for some retainers of the family, who
sought shelter—they and their families and their small flocks and
herds—at the hands of their feudal lord. Some of them had pretty much
fallen to decay. They were built in a strange fashion. Strong beams had
been sunk firm in the ground at the requisite distance, and their other
ends had been fastened together, two and two, so as to form the shape of
one of those rounded waggon-headed gipsy-tents, only very much larger.
The spaces between were filled with mud, stones, osiers, rubbish,
mortar—anything to keep out the weather. The fires were made in the
centre of these rude dwellings, a hole in the roof forming the only
chimney. No Highland hut or Irish cabin could be of rougher
construction.
The owner of this property, at the beginning of the present century, was
a Mr. Patrick Byrne Starkey. His family had kept to the old faith, and
were stanch Roman Catholics, esteeming it even a sin to marry any one of
Protestant descent, however willing he or she might have been to embrace
the Romish religion. Mr. Patrick Starkey’s father had been a follower of
James the Second; and, during the disastrous Irish campaign of that
monarch he had fallen in love with an Irish beauty, a Miss Byrne, as
zealous for her religion and for the Stuarts as himself. He had | 161.438862 | 680 |
2023-11-16 18:18:28.1842040 | 1,098 | 396 |
Produced by Joshua Hutchinson, Josephine Paolucci and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.
(This file was produced from images generously made
available by Cornell University Digital Collections.)
THE
ATLANTIC MONTHLY.
_A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics._
VOL. XV.--JUNE, 1865.--NO. XCII.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by TICKNOR AND
FIELDS, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of
Massachusetts.
A LETTER ABOUT ENGLAND.
Dear Mr. Editor,--The name of your magazine shall not deter me from
sending you my slight reflections But you have been across, and will
agree with me that it is the great misfortune of this earth that so much
salt-water is still lying around between its various countries. The
steam-condenser is supposed to diminish its bulk by shortening the
transit from one point to another; but a delicate conscience must aver
that there is a good deal left. The ocean is chiefly remarkable as the
element out of which the dry land came. It is only when the land and sea
combine to frame the mighty coast-line of a continent, and to fringe it
with weed which the tide uncovers twice a day, that the mind is saluted
with health and beauty. The fine instinct of Mr. Thoreau furnished him
with a truth, without the trouble of a single game at pitch and toss
with the mysterious element; for he says,--
"The middle sea contains no crimson dulse,
Its deeper waves cast up no pearls to view,
Along the shore my hand is on its pulse,
And I converse with many a shipwrecked crew."
On the broad Atlantic there is no smell of the sea. That comes from the
brown rocks whence iodine is exhaled to brace the nerves and the fancy,
while summer woods chasten all the air. At best, the ocean is austere
and unsympathetic; and a sensible, that is, a sensitive, stomach
understands it to be demoralized by the monstrous krakens which are
viciously brooding in its depths. (If the pronoun "it," in the last
sentence, should refer to stomach, the sense will still be clear.) In
fact, this water has been left over from the making of the earth: like
the Dodo and the Moa, it should have evaporated. How pleasant it is to
be assured by Sir Charles Lyell that the land is still rising in so many
quarters of the globe! for we may anticipate that millennial epoch when
there shall be "no more sea."
However, the old impression which great spaces used to make upon the
imagination gives way to the new sensation of annihilating spaces. It
would be more correct now to speak of differences than of distances. The
difference between one country and another is all that now makes the
distance between them. For man is now overcoming space faster than he is
obliterating national peculiarities. And when one goes abroad, the
universal humanity in whose interest all material and political
triumphs are gained is not felt by him so soon as the specific
divergence which makes the character of lands and people. Oaks and elms,
hawthorn and beeches, are on either side the ocean; but you measure the
voyage by their unlikeness to each other, and wonder how soon you have
got so far. The strawberry ripens with a different flavor and texture.
The sun is less racy in all the common garden-stuff whose names we know.
Pears and peaches we are disappointed in recognizing; they seem as if
ripened by the sun's proxy, the moon; and our boys would hardly pick up
the apples in the fields. But England undulates with grass that seems to
fix the fluent color of the greenest waves on either hand. And our
eagle-eyed blue sky droops its lid over the island, as the moisture
gathers, with a more equable compassion than we know for all shrubs and
blades and grazing cattle.
Both the pain and the tonic in being absent from your home and country
are administered by difference. In gulping that three thousand miles the
taste is austere, but the stimulus is wholesome. We learn to appreciate,
but also to correct, the fare we have at home.
The difference is twofold between England and America. England differs,
first, in the inveterate way in which the people hold on to all that
they have inherited; second, in the gradual, but equally inveterate, way
in which they labor to improve their inheritance. The future is gained
by the same temper in which the past is held; so that, if the past is
secure, the future is also: none the less because the past seems so
irrevocably built, but rather in consequence of that, because it betrays
the method of the builders.
These two characteristics, apparently irreconcilable, are really
organic, and come of position, climate, diet, and slowly amalgamated | 161.503614 | 681 |
2023-11-16 18:18:28.3574120 | 405 | 105 |
Produced by David Widger
THE LITTLE MANX NATION
By Hall Caine
Published by William Heinemann - 1891
To the REVEREND T. S. BROWN, M.A.
You see what I send you--my lectures at the Royal Institution in the
Spring. In making a little book of them I have thought it best to
leave them as they were delivered, with all the colloquialisms that are
natural to spoken words frankly exposed to cold print. This does not
help them to any particular distinction as literature, but perhaps it
lends them an ease and familiarity which may partly atone to you and to
all good souls for their plentiful lack of dignity. I have said so often
that I am not an historian, that I ought to add that whatever history
lies hidden here belongs to Train, our only accredited chronicler,
and, even at the risk of bowing too low, I must needs protest, in our
north-country homespun, that he shall have the pudding if he will
also take the pudding-bag. You know what I mean. At some points our
history--especially our early history--is still so vague, so dubious,
so full of mystery. It is all the fault of little Mannanan, our ancient
Manx magician, who enshrouded our island in mist. Or should I say it
is to his credit, for has he not left us through all time some shadowy
figures to fight about, like "rael, thrue, reg'lar" Manxmen. As for the
stories, the "yarns" that lie like flies--like blue-bottles, like bees,
I trust not like wasps--in the amber of the history, you will see that
they are mainly my own. On second thought it occurs to me that maybe
they are mainly yours. Let us say that they are both yours and mine | 161.676822 | 682 |
2023-11-16 18:18:28.3826180 | 4,074 | 50 |
Produced by Chris Curnow, Les Galloway 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
Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations
in hyphenation have been standardised but all other spelling and
punctuation remains unchanged.
Footnotes are placed at the end of chapter.
Italics are represented thus _italic_, and superscripts thus ^.
The periods of the satellites of Uranus have been added to the table as
specified in a subsequent note.
The layout of several tables has been modified to maintain clarity
within wdth restrictions.
[Illustration:
LONDON STEREOSCOPIC CO. PHOTOMEZZOTYPE.
STANMORE OBSERVATORY.
INSIDE VIEW.]
TELESCOPIC WORK
FOR
STARLIGHT EVENINGS.
BY
WILLIAM F. DENNING, F.R.A.S.
(FORMERLY PRESIDENT OF THE LIVERPOOL ASTRONOMICAL SOCIETY).
“To ask or search I blame thee not, for heaven
Is as the book of God before thee set,
Wherein to read his wondrous works.”
MILTON.
LONDON:
TAYLOR AND FRANCIS, RED LION COURT, FLEET STREET.
1891.
[_All rights reserved._]
[Illustration: ALERE FLAMMAM.]
PRINTED BY TAYLOR AND FRANCIS,
RED LION COURT, FLEET STREET.
PREFACE.
It having been suggested by some kind friends that a series of articles
on “Telescopes and Telescopic Work,” which I wrote for the ‘Journal of
the Liverpool Astronomical Society’ in 1887-8, should be reprinted, I
have undertaken the revision and rearrangement of the papers alluded
to. Certain other contributions on “Large and Small Telescopes,”
“Planetary Observations,” and kindred subjects, which I furnished to
‘The Observatory’ and other scientific serials from time to time, have
also been included, and the material so much altered and extended that
it may be regarded as virtually new matter. The work has outgrown my
original intention, but it proved so engrossing that it was found
difficult to ensure greater brevity.
The combination of different papers has possibly had the effect of
rendering the book more popular in some parts than in others. This
is not altogether unintentional, for the aim has been to make the
work intelligible to general readers, while also containing facts
and figures useful to amateur astronomers. It is merely intended as a
contribution to popular astronomy, and asserts no rivalry with existing
works, many of which are essentially different in plan. If any excuse
were, however, needed for the issue of this volume it might be found
in the rapid progress of astronomy, which requires that new or revised
works should be published at short intervals in order to represent
existing knowledge.
The methods explained are approximate, and technical points have
been avoided with the view to engage the interest of beginners who
may find it the stepping-stone to more advanced works and to more
precise methods. The object will be realized if observers derive any
encouragement from its descriptions or value from its references,
and the author sincerely hopes that not a few of his readers will
experience the same degree of pleasure in observation as he has done
during many years.
No matter how humble the observer, or how paltry the telescope,
astronomy is capable of furnishing an endless store of delight to its
adherents. Its influences are elevating, and many of its features
possess the charms of novelty as well as mystery. Whoever contemplates
the heavens with the right spirit reaps both pleasure and profit, and
many amateurs find a welcome relaxation to the cares of business in
the companionship of their telescopes on “starlight evenings.”
The title chosen is not, perhaps, a comprehensive one, but it covers
most of the ground, and no apology need be offered for dealing with one
or two important objects not strictly within its scope.
For many of the illustrations I must express my indebtedness to the
Editors of the ‘Observatory’ to the Council of the R.A.S., to the
proprietors of ‘Nature,’ to Messrs. Browning, Calver, Cooke & Sons,
Elger, Gore, Horne Thornthwaite and Wood, Klein, and other friends.
The markings on Venus and Jupiter as represented on pages 150 and 180
have come out much darker than was intended, but these illustrations
may have some value as showing the position and form of the features
delineated. It is difficult to reproduce delicate planetary markings
in precisely the same characters as they are displayed in a good
telescope. The apparent orbits of the satellites of the planets,
delineated in figs. 41, 44, &c., are liable to changes depending on
their variable position relatively to the Earth, and the diagrams are
merely intended to give a good idea of these satellite systems.
W. F. D.
Bishopston, Bristol,
1891.
Plates I. and II. are views of the Observatory and Instruments recently
erected by Mr. Klein at Stanmore, Middlesex, lat. 51° 36′ 57″ N.,
long. 0° 18′ 22″ W. The height above sea-level is 262 feet. The
telescope is a 20-inch reflector by Calver, of 92 inches focus; the
tube is, however, 152 inches long so as to cut off all extraneous
rays. It is mounted equatoreally, and is provided with a finder of
6 inches aperture—one of Tulley’s famous instruments a century ago.
The large telescope is fixed on a pillar of masonry 37 feet high, and
weighing 115 tons. Mr. Klein proposes to devote the resources of his
establishment to astronomical photography, and it has been provided
with all the best appliances for this purpose. The observatory is
connected by telephone with Mr. Klein’s private residence, and the
timepieces and recording instruments are all electrically connected
with a centre of observation in his study.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Page
THE TELESCOPE, ITS INTENTION AND THE DEVELOPMENT OF ITS POWERS 1
CHAPTER II.
RELATIVE MERITS OF LARGE AND SMALL TELESCOPES 20
CHAPTER III.
NOTES ON TELESCOPES AND THEIR ACCESSORIES 38
CHAPTER IV.
NOTES ON TELESCOPIC WORK 66
CHAPTER V.
THE SUN 87
CHAPTER VI.
THE MOON 113
CHAPTER VII.
MERCURY 137
CHAPTER VIII.
VENUS 145
CHAPTER IX.
MARS 155
CHAPTER X.
THE PLANETOIDS 167
CHAPTER XI.
JUPITER 170
CHAPTER XII.
SATURN 195
CHAPTER XIII.
URANUS AND NEPTUNE 215
CHAPTER XIV.
COMETS AND COMET-SEEKING 227
CHAPTER XV.
METEORS AND METEORIC OBSERVATIONS 260
CHAPTER XVI.
THE STARS 286
CHAPTER XVII.
NEBULÆ AND CLUSTERS OF STARS 324
NOTES AND ADDITIONS 347
INDEX 353
ILLUSTRATIONS.
PLATE I. Interior of Mr. Klein’s Observatory _Frontispiece_
II. View of Mr. Klein’s Grounds and Observatory _To face_ p. 82
FIG. PAGE
1. The Galilean Telescope 7
2. Royal Observatory, Greenwich, in Flamsteed’s time 8
3. Sir Isaac Newton 10
4. Gregorian Telescope 10
5. Cassegrainian Telescope 11
6. Newtonian Telescope 11
7. Common Refracting-Telescope 12
8. Le Mairean or Herschelian Telescope 13
9. 10-inch Reflecting-Telescope on a German Equatoreal, by Calver 17
10. Lord Rosse’s 6-foot Reflecting-Telescope 22
11. Refracting-Telescope, by Browning 32
12. “The Popular Reflector,” by Calver 40
13. 3-inch Refracting-Telescope, by Newton & Co. 41
14. Huygens’s Negative Eyepiece 46
15. Ramsden’s Positive Eyepiece 47
16. Berthon’s Dynamometer 50
17. Cooke and Sons’ Educational Telescope 52
18. Refracting-Telescope on a German Equatoreal 67
19. The Author’s Telescope: a 10-inch With-Browning Reflector 77
20. Sun-spot of June 19, 1889 95
21. Solar Eclipses visible in England, 1891 to 1922 98
22. Total Solar Eclipse of August 19, 1887 98
23. Belts of Sun-spots, visible Oct. 29, 1868 104
24. Shadows cast by Faculæ 109
25. Light-spots and streaks on Plato, 1879-82. (A. Stanley
Williams.) 126
26. Petavius and Wrottesley at Sunset. (T. Gwyn Elger.) 129
27. Birt, Birt A, and the Straight Wall. (T. Gwyn Elger.) 130
28. Aristarchus and Herodotus at Sunrise. (T. Gwyn Elger.) 132
29. Mercury as a Morning Star 143
30. Venus as an Evening Star 150
31. Mars, 1886, April 13, 9^h 50^m 157
32. Orbits of the Satellites of Mars 159
33. Jupiter, as drawn by Dawes and others 178
34. Jupiter, 1886, April 9, 10^h 12^m 180
35. Occultation of Jupiter, Aug. 7, 1889 186
36. Jupiter and Satellites seen in a small glass 187
37. Shadows of Jupiter’s Satellites II. and III. 192
38. Saturn as observed by Cassini in August 1676 198
39. Saturn, 1885, Dec. 23, 7^h 54^m 201
40. Saturn as observed by F. Terby, February 1887 203
41. Apparent orbits of the Five Inner Satellites of Saturn 212
42. Transit of the Shadow of Titan 213
43. Uranus and his belts 218
44. Apparent orbits of the Satellites of Uranus 221
45. Apparent orbit of the Satellite of Neptune 224
46. Mars, Saturn, and Regulus in same field, Sept. 20, 1889 226
47. Comet 1862 III. (Aug. 19, 1862) 237
48. Sawerthal’s Comet, 1888 I. (March 25, Brooks) 237
49. Brooks’s Double Comet, Sept. 17, 1889 239
50. Pons’s Comet (1812). Telescopic view, 1884, Jan. 6 242
51. Ditto. Ditto, 1884, Jan. 21 242
52. Radiation of Meteors. (Shower of early Perseids, 1878) 263
53. Double Meteor. Curved Meteor. Fireball 265
54. Meteorite found in Chili in 1866 265
55. Meteorite which fell at Orgueil in 1864 265
56. Fireball of Nov. 23, 1877, 8^h 24^m (J. Plant.) 269
57. Flight of Telescopic Meteors seen by W. R. Brooks 272
58. Meteor of Dec. 28, 1888, 6^h 17^m 277
59. Large Meteor and streak seen at Jask 278
60. The Constellation Orion 289
61. Diagram illustrating the Measurement of Angles of Position 291
62. Double Stars 301
63. Trapezium in Orion as seen with the 36-inch refractor 319
64. Nebulæ and a Star-cluster 336
65. Nebula within a semicircle of stars 342
TELESCOPIC WORK
FOR
STARLIGHT EVENINGS.
CHAPTER I.
_THE TELESCOPE, ITS INVENTION AND THE DEVELOPMENT OF ITS POWERS._
The instrument which has so vastly extended our knowledge of the
Universe, which has enabled us to acquire observations of remarkable
precision, and supplied the materials for many sublime speculations in
Astronomy, was invented early in the seventeenth century. Apart from
its special application as a means of exploring the heavens with a
capacity that is truly marvellous, it is a construction which has also
been utilized in certain other departments with signal success. It
provided mankind with a medium through which to penetrate far beyond
the reach of natural vision, and to grasp objects and phenomena which
had either eluded detection altogether or had only been seen in dim and
uncertain characters. It has also proved a very efficient instrument
for various minor purposes of instruction and recreation. The invention
of the telescope formed a new era in astronomy; and though, with a
few exceptions, men were slow at first in availing themselves of its
far-seeing resources, scepticism was soon swept aside and its value
became widely acknowledged.
But though the telescope was destined to effect work of the utmost
import, and to reach a very high degree of excellence in after
times, the result was achieved gradually. Step by step its powers
were enlarged and its qualities perfected, and thus the stream of
astronomical discovery has been enabled to flow on, stimulated by every
increase in its capacity.
There is some question as to whom may be justly credited with
the discovery of its principles of construction. Huygens, in his
‘Dioptrics,’ remarks:—“I should have no hesitation in placing above all
the rest of mankind the individual who, solely by his own reflections,
without the aid of any fortuitous circumstances, should have achieved
the invention of the telescope.” There is reason to conclude, however,
that its discovery resulted from accident rather than from theory. It
is commonly supposed that Galileo Galilei is entitled to precedence;
but there is strong evidence to show that he had been anticipated.
In any case it must be admitted that Galilei[1] had priority in
successfully utilizing its resources as a means of observational
discovery; for he it was who, first of all men, saw Jupiter’s
satellites, the crescent form of Venus, the mountains and craters on
the Moon, and announced them to an incredible world.
It has been supposed, and not without some basis of probability, that a
similar instrument to the telescope had been employed by the ancients;
for certain statements contained in old historical records would
suggest that the Greek philosophers had some means of extending their
knowledge further than that permitted by the naked eye. Democritus
remarked that the Galaxy or “Milky Way” was nothing but an assemblage
of minute stars; and it has been asked, How could he have derived this
information but by instrumental aid? It is very probable he gained the
knowledge by inferences having their source in close observation; for
anyone who attentively studies the face of the sky must be naturally
led to conclude that the appearance of the “Milky Way” is induced by
immense and irregular clusterings of small stars. In certain regions
of the heavens there are clear indications of this: the eye is enabled
to glimpse some of the individual star-points, and to observe how they
blend and associate with the denser aggregations which give rise to the
milky whiteness of the Galaxy.
Refracting lenses, or “burning-glasses,” were known at a very early
period. A lens, roughly figured into a convex shape and obviously
intended for magnifying objects, has been recovered from the ruins
of Herculaneum, buried in the ejections from Vesuvius in the year 79
A.D. Pliny and others refer to lenses that burnt by refraction, and
describe globules of glass or crystal which, when exposed in the sun,
transmit sufficient heat to ignite combustible material. The ancients
undoubtedly used tubes in the conduct of their observations, but no
lenses seem to have been employed with them, and their only utility
consisted in the fact of their shutting out the extraneous rays of
light. But spectacles were certainly known at an early period. Concave
emeralds are said to have been employed by Nero in witnessing the
combats of the gladiators, and they appear to have been the same in
effect as the spectacles worn by short-sighted people in our own times.
But the ancients supposed that the emerald possessed inherent qualities
specially helpful to vision, rather than that its utility resulted
simply from its concavity of figure. In the 13th century spectacles
were more generally worn, and the theory of their construction
understood.
It is remarkable that the telescope did not come into use until so
long afterwards. Vague references were made to such an instrument, or
rather suggestions as to the possibilities of its construction, which
show that, although the principle had perhaps been conceived, the idea
was not successfully put into practice. Roger Bacon, who flourished in
the 13th century, wrote in his | 161.702028 | 683 |
2023-11-16 18:18:28.3965080 | 1,269 | 451 |
Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by the
Posner Memorial Collection
(http://posner.library.cmu.edu/Posner/))
[Illustration: Henry M. Stanley Signature
1890]
COPYRIGHT 1890 BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
IN DARKEST AFRICA
OR THE
QUEST, RESCUE, AND RETREAT OF EMIN
GOVERNOR OF EQUATORIA
BY
HENRY M. STANLEY
WITH TWO STEEL ENGRAVINGS, AND ONE HUNDRED AND
FIFTY ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. II
"I will not cease to go forward until I come to
the place where the two seas meet,
though I travel ninety years."--KORAN, chap. xviii., v. 62.
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1890
[_All rights reserved_]
COPYRIGHT, 1890, BY
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
Press of J. J. Little & Co.,
Astor Place, New York.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.
CHAPTER XXI.
WE START OUR THIRD JOURNEY TO THE NYANZA.
PAGE
Mr. Bonny and the Zanzibaris--The Zanzibaris' complaints--Poison of the
Manioc--Conversations with Ferajji and Salim--We tell the rear column of
the rich plenty of the Nyanza--We wait for Tippu-Tib at Bungangeta
Island--Muster of our second journey to the Albert--Mr. Jameson's letter
from Stanley Falls dated August 12th--The flotilla of canoes starts--The
Mariri Rapids--Ugarrowwa and Salim bin Mohammed visit me--Tippu-Tib,
Major Barttelot and the carriers--Salim bin Mohammed--My answer to
Tippu-Tib--Salim and the Manyuema--The settlement of the
Batundu--Small-pox among the Madi carriers and the Manyuema--Two insane
women--Two more Zanzibari raiders slain--Breach of promises in the
Expedition--The Ababua tribe--Wasp Rapids--Ten of our men killed and
eaten by natives--Canoe accident at Manginni--Lakki's raiding party at
Mambanga--Feruzi and the bush antelope--Our cook, Jabu, shot dead by a
poisoned arrow--Panga Falls--Further casualties by the natives--Nejambi
Rapids--The poisoned arrows--Mabengu Rapids--Child-birth on the
road--Our sick list--Native affection--A tornado at Little Rapids--Mr.
Bonny discovers the village of Bavikai--Remarks about Malaria--Emin
Pasha and mosquito curtain--Encounter with the Bavikai natives--A cloud
of moths at Hippo Broads--Death of the boy Soudi--Incident at
Avaiyabu--Result of vaccinating the Zanzibaris--Zanzibari stung by
wasps--Misfortunes at Amiri Rapids--Our casualities--Collecting food
prior to march to Avatiko 1
CHAPTER XXII.
ARRIVAL AT FORT BODO.
Ugarrowwa's old station once more--March to Bunda--We cross the Ituri
River--Note written by me opposite the mouth of the Lenda River--We
reach the Avatiko plantations--Mr. Bonny measures a pigmy--History and
dress of the pigmies--A conversation by gesture--The pigmy's
wife--Monkeys and other animals in the forest--The clearing of
Andaki--Our tattered clothes--The Ihuru River--Scarcity of food; Amani's
meals--Uledi searches for food--Missing provisions--We reach
Kilonga-Longa's village again--More deaths--The forest improves for
travelling--Skirmish near Andikumu--Story of the pigmies and the box of
ammunition--We pass Kakwa Hill--Defeat of a caravan--The last of the
Somalis--A heavy shower of rain--Welcome food discovery at Indemau--We
bridge the Dui River--A rough muster of the people--A stray goat at our
Ngwetza camp--Further capture of dwarfs--We send back to Ngwetza for
plantains--Loss of my boy Saburi in the forest--We wonder what has
become of the Ngwetza party--My boy Saburi turns up--Starvation Camp--We
go in search of the absentees, and meet them in the forest--The Ihuru
River--And subsequent arrival at Fort Bodo 37
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE GREAT CENTRAL AFRICAN FOREST.
Professor Drummond's statements respecting Africa--Dimensions of the
great forest--Vegetation--Insect life--Description of the trees,
&c.--Tribes and their food--The primaeval forest--The bush proper--The
clearings: wonders of vegetable life--The queer feeling of loneliness--A
forest tempest--Tropical vegetation along the banks of the
Aruwimi--Wasps' nests--The forest typical of human life--A few secrets
of the woods--Game in the forest--Reasons why we did not hunt the
animals--Birds--The Simian tribe--Reptiles and insects--The small bees
and the beetles--The "jigger"--Night disturbances by falling trees,
&c.--The Chimpanzee--The rainiest zone | 161.715918 | 684 |
2023-11-16 18:18:28.4967770 | 788 | 51 |
Produced by David Widger. HTML version by Al Haines
THE SNOW-IMAGE
AND
OTHER TWICE-TOLD TALES
LITTLE DAFFYDOWNDILLY
By
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Daffydowndilly was so called because in his nature he resembled a flower,
and loved to do only what was beautiful and agreeable, and took no
delight in labor of any kind. But, while Daffydowndilly was yet a little
boy, his mother sent him away from his pleasant home, and put him under
the care of a very strict schoolmaster, who went by the name of Mr. Toil.
Those who knew him best affirmed that this Mr. Toil was a very worthy
character; and that he had done more good, both to children and grown
people, than anybody else in the world. Certainly he had lived long
enough to do a great deal of good; for, if all stories be true, he had
dwelt upon earth ever since Adam was driven from the garden of Eden.
Nevertheless, Mr. Toil had a severe and ugly countenance, especially for
such little boys or big men as were inclined to be idle; his voice, too,
was harsh; and all his ways and customs seemed very disagreeable to our
friend Daffydowndilly. The whole day long, this terrible old
schoolmaster sat at his desk overlooking the scholars, or stalked about
the school-room with a certain awful birch rod in his hand. Now came a
rap over the shoulders of a boy whom Mr. Toil had caught at play; now he
punished a whole class who were behindhand with their lessons; and, in
short, unless a lad chose to attend quietly and constantly to his book,
he had no chance of enjoying a quiet moment in the school-room of Mr.
Toil.
"This will never do for me," thought Daffydowndilly.
Now, the whole of Daffydowndilly's life had hitherto been passed with his
dear mother, who had a much sweeter face than old Mr. Toil, and who had
always been very indulgent to her little boy. No wonder, therefore, that
poor Daffydowndilly found it a woful change, to be sent away from the
good lady's side, and put under the care of this ugly-visaged
schoolmaster, who never gave him any apples or cakes, and seemed to think
that little boys were created only to get lessons.
"I can't bear it any longer," said Daffydowndilly to himself, when he had
been at school about a week. "I'll run away, and try to find my dear
mother; and, at any rate, I shall never find anybody half so disagreeable
as this old Mr. Toil!"
So, the very next morning, off started poor Daffydowndilly, and began his
rambles about the world, with only some bread and cheese for his
breakfast, and very little pocket-money to pay his expenses. But he had
gone only a short distance, when he overtook a man of grave and sedate
appearance, who was trudging at a moderate pace along the road.
"Good morning, my fine lad," said the stranger; and his voice seemed hard
and severe, but yet had a sort of kindness in it; "whence do you come so
early, and whither are you going?"
Little Daffydowndilly was a boy of very ingenuous disposition, and had
never been known to tell a lie in all his life. Nor | 161.816187 | 685 |
2023-11-16 18:18:29.1642990 | 918 | 397 |
Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Chris Logan and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
The Home Medical
Library
By
KENELM WINSLOW, B.A.S., M.D.
_Formerly Assistant Professor Comparative Therapeutics, Harvard
University; Late Surgeon to the Newton Hospital;
Fellow of the Massachusetts Medical Society, etc._
With the Cooeperation of Many Medical
Advising Editors and Special Contributors
IN SIX VOLUMES
_First Aid :: Family Medicines :: Nose, Throat, Lungs,
Eye, and Ear :: Stomach and Bowels :: Tumors and
Skin Diseases :: Rheumatism :: Germ Diseases
Nervous Diseases :: Insanity :: Sexual Hygiene
Woman and Child :: Heart, Blood, and Digestion
Personal Hygiene :: Indoor Exercise
Diet and Conduct for Long Life :: Practical
Kitchen Science :: Nervousness
and Outdoor Life :: Nurse and Patient
Camping Comfort :: Sanitation
of the Household :: Pure
Water Supply :: Pure Food
Stable and Kennel_
NEW YORK
The Review of Reviews Company
1907
Medical Advising Editors
Managing Editor
ALBERT WARREN FERRIS, A.M., M.D.
_Former Assistant in Neurology, Columbia University; Former Chairman,
Section on Neurology and Psychiatry, New York Academy of Medicine;
Assistant in Medicine, University and Bellevue Hospital Medical
College; Medical Editor, New International Encyclopedia._
Nervous Diseases
CHARLES E. ATWOOD, M.D.
_Assistant in Neurology, Columbia University; Former Physician, Utica
State Hospital and Bloomingdale Hospital for Insane Patients; Former
Clinical Assistant to Sir William Gowers, National Hospital, London._
Pregnancy
RUSSELL BELLAMY, M.D.
_Assistant in Obstetrics and Gynecology, Cornell University Medical
College Dispensary; Captain and Assistant Surgeon (in charge),
Squadron A, New York Cavalry; Assistant in Surgery, New York
Polyclinic._
Germ Diseases
HERMANN MICHAEL BIGGS, M.D.
_General Medical Officer and Director of Bacteriological Laboratories,
New York City Department of Health; Professor of Clinical Medicine in
University and Bellevue Hospital Medical College; Visiting Physician
to Bellevue, St. Vincent's, Willard Parker, and Riverside Hospitals._
The Eye and Ear
J. HERBERT CLAIBORNE, M.D.
_Clinical Instructor in Ophthalmology, Cornell University Medical
College; Former Adjunct Professor of Ophthalmology, New York
Polyclinic; Former Instructor in Ophthalmology in Columbia University;
Surgeon, New Amsterdam Eye and Ear Hospital._
Sanitation
THOMAS DARLINGTON, M.D.
_Health Commissioner of New York City; Former President Medical Board,
New York Foundling Hospital; Consulting Physician, French Hospital;
Attending Physician, St. John's Riverside Hospital, Yonkers; Surgeon
to New Croton Aqueduct and other Public Works, to Copper Queen
Consolidated Mining Company of Arizona, and Arizona and Southeastern
Railroad Hospital; Author of Medical and Climatological Works._
Menstruation
AUSTIN FLINT, JR., M.D.
_Professor of Obstetrics and Clinical Gynecology, New York University
and Bellevue Hospital Medical College; Visiting Physician, Bellevue
Hospital; Consulting Obstetrician, New York Maternity Hospital;
Attending Physician, Hospital for Ruptured and Crippled, Manhattan
Maternity and Emergency Hospitals._
Heart and Blood
JOHN BESSNER HUBER, A.M., M.D.
_Assistant in Medicine, University and Bellevue Hospital Medical
College; Visiting Physician to St. Joseph's Home for Consumptives;
Author of "Consumption: Its Relation to Man and His Civilization; Its
Prevention and Cure."_
Skin Diseases
JAMES C. JOHNSTON, A.B., M.D.
_Instructor in Pathology and Chief of Clinic, Department of
Dermatology, Cornell University Medical College._
Diseases of Children
CHARLES GILMORE KERLEY, M.D.
_Professor of Pediatrics, New York Polyclinic Medical School and
| 162.483709 | 686 |
2023-11-16 18:18:29.3449320 | 206 | 179 | CRASHAW, VOLUME II (OF 2)***
E-text prepared by Taavi Kalju, Rory OConor, and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made
available by Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries
(http://www.archive.org/details/toronto)
Note: Images of the original pages are available through
Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries. See
http://www.archive.org/details/completeworksfor02crasuoft
Transcriber' note:
A character following a carat is supercripted (example:
y^e). When two or more characters are superscripted they
are enclosed in curly brackets (example: D^{ris}).
The Fuller Worthies' Library.
THE COMPLETE WORKS OF RICHARD CRASHAW.
In Two Volumes.
VOL. II.
ESSAY ON LIFE AND WRITINGS.
EPIGRAMMATA ET POEMATA LATINA | 162.664342 | 687 |
2023-11-16 18:18:29.4372930 | 4,076 | 51 |
Produced by Brendan OConnor, Neville Allen, Jonathan Ingram
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: Minor typographical errors have been corrected and
footnotes moved to the end of the relevant article. Greek
transliterations are surrounded by ~tildes~.
BLACKWOOD'S
EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.
No. CCCLVIII. AUGUST, 1845. VOL. LVIII.
CONTENTS.
ON PUNISHMENT. 129
PUSHKIN, THE RUSSIAN POET. CONCLUDED. 140
MARSTON; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A STATESMAN. PART XVIII. 157
A LETTER FROM LONDON. BY A RAILWAY WITNESS, 173
PRIESTS, WOMEN, AND FAMILIES, 185
MY COLLEGE FRIENDS. NO. II.--HORACE LEICESTER, 197
ZUMALACARREGUI, 210
NORTH'S SPECIMENS OF THE BRITISH CRITICS. NO. VII.--MAC-FLECNOE
AND THE DUNCIAD, 229
EDINBURGH:
WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, 45, GEORGE STREET; AND 37, PATERNOSTER ROW,
LONDON.
_To whom all Communications (post paid) must be addressed._
SOLD BY ALL THE BOOKSELLERS IN THE UNITED KINGDOM.
PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND HUGHES, EDINBURGH.
BLACKWOOD'S
EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.
No. CCCLVIII. AUGUST, 1845. VOL. LVIII.
ON PUNISHMENT.
How to punish crime, and in so doing reform the criminal; how to uphold
the man as a terror to evil-doers, and yet at the same time be
implanting in him the seeds of a future more happy and prosperous
life--this is perhaps the most difficult problem of legislation. We are
far from despairing of some approximation to a solution, which is the
utmost that can be looked for; but we are also convinced that even this
approximation will not be presented to us by those who seem willing to
blind themselves to the difficulties they have to contend with. Without,
therefore, assuming the air of opposition to the schemes of
philanthropic legislators, we would correct, so far as lies in our
power, some of those misconceptions and oversights which energetic
reformers are liable to fall into, whilst zealously bent on viewing
punishment in its reformatory aspect.
We have selected for our comments the pamphlets of Captain Maconochie,
not only because they illustrate the hasty and illogical reasonings, the
utter forgetfulness of elementary principles, into which such reformers
are apt to lapse; but also for the still better reason, that they
contain a suggestion of real value; a contribution towards an efficient
prison-discipline, which merits examination and an extensive trial. We
have added to these pamphlets a brief work of Zschokke's, the venerable
historian of Switzerland, on death-punishment, in order that we might
extend our observations over this topic also. It is evident that the
question of capital punishment, and the various questions relating to
prison discipline, embrace all that is either very interesting or very
important in the prevailing discussions on penal legislation.
Transportation forms no essentially distinct class of punishment, as the
transported convict differs from others in this only, that he has to
endure his sentence of personal restraint and compulsory labour in a
foreign climate.
Reformatory punishment! Alas, there is an incurable contradiction in the
very terms! Punishment is pain, is deprivation, despondency, affliction.
But, would you reform, you must apply kindness, and a measure of
prosperity, and a greater measure still of hope. There is no genial
influence in castigation. It may deter from the recommission of the
identical offence it visits, but no conversion, no renewal of the heart,
waits on its hostile presence; the disposition will remain the same,
with the addition of those angry sentiments which pain endured is sure
to generate. No philosopher or divine of these days would invent a
purgatory for the purifying of corrupted souls. No--he would say--your
purgatory may be a place of preparation if you will, but _not_ for
heaven. You may make devils there--nothing better; he must be already
twice a saint whom the smoke of your torments would not blacken to a
demon.
We may rest assured of this, that the actual infliction of the
punishment must always be an evil, as well to mind as body--as well to
society at large as to the culprit. If the threat alone could be
constantly efficacious--if the headlong obstinacy, the passion, and the
obtuseness of men would not oblige, from time to time, the execution of
the penalty, for the very purpose of sustaining the efficacy of the
threat--all would be well, and penal laws might be in full harmony with
the best educational institutions, and the highest interests of
humanity. But the moment the law from a threat becomes an act, and the
sentence goes forth, and the torture begins, a new but unavoidable train
of evils encounters us. There is war implanted in the very bosom of
society--hatred, and the giving and the sufferance of pain. And here, we
presume, is to be found the reason of the proverbially severe laws of
Draco, which, being instituted by a man of virtue and humanity, were yet
said to have been written in blood: he desired that the threat should be
effective, and that thus the evils of punishment, as well as of crime,
should be avoided.
Whatever is to be effected towards the genuine reformation of the
culprit, must be the result, not of the punishment itself, but of some
added ingredient, not of the essence of the punishment; as when hopes
are held out of reward, or part remission of the penalty, on the
practice of industry and a continuance of good behaviour.
And yet--some one may here object--we correct a child, we punish it, and
we reform. The very word correction has the double meaning of penalty
and amendment. If the plan succeeds so well with the infant, that he who
spares the rod is supposed to spoil the child, why should it utterly
fail with the adult? But mark the difference. You punish a child, and a
short while after you receive the little penitent back into your love;
nay, you caress it into penitence; and the reconcilement is so sweet,
that the infant culprit never, perhaps, has his affections so keenly
awakened as in these tearful moments of sorrow and forgiveness. The
heart is softer than ever, and the sense of shame at having offended is
kept sensitively alive. But if you withdrew your love--if, after
punishment inflicted, you still kept an averted countenance--if no
reconcilement were sought and fostered, there would be no reformation in
your chastisement. Between society and the adult culprit, this is
exactly the case. Here the hostile parent strikes, but makes no after
overture of kindness. The blow, and the bitterness of the blow, are left
unhealed. Nothing is done to take away the sting of anger, to keep the
heart tender to reproof, to prevent the growing callousness to shame,
and the rising rebellion of the spirit. And here reveals itself, in all
its force, another notorious difficulty with which the reformer of penal
codes has to contend.
In drawing the picture of the helpless condition of the convicted and
punished criminal, how often and how justly does he allude to the
circumstance, that the reputation of the man is so damaged that honest
people are loath to employ him--that his return to an untainted life is
almost impossible--and that out of self-defence he is compelled to
resort again to the same criminal enterprises for which he has already
suffered. Struck with this view, the reformer would institute a
penitentiary of so effective a description, that the having passed
through it would be even a testimonial of good character. But who sees
not that the infamy is of the very essence of the punishment? A good
character is the appropriate reward of the good citizen; if the criminal
does not pay the forfeit of his character--if only a certain amount of
temporary inconvenience is to be sustained, the terror of punishment is
at an end. Here, on the arena of public life, between society and the
culprit, are they not manifestly incompatible--the tenderness that would
reclaim, and the vigour that must chastise?
There is no question here, we must observe, of that delicate sense of
shame which is the best preservative against every departure from
rectitude. This has been worn out, and almost ceased to operate on the
majority of persons who expose themselves to the penal laws of their
country. It is the value of character as a commercial commodity, as a
requisite for well-being, that alone has weight with them. Benevolent
projectors of reform, more benevolent than logical, are fond of
comparing a prison to an hospital; they contend that the inmates of
either place are sent there to be cured, and that they should not be
restored to society until they are restored, the one to health of body,
the other to health of mind. Would they carry out the analogy to its
fair completeness, and maintain that the patient from either hospital
should be remitted to society with a character equally free from stain?
Is the man to be received by the community with the same compassionate
welcome who has gone into prison to be cured of a propensity to theft,
as one who has entered an hospital to be relieved of a disease?
An hospital is a word of no inviting sound--and physic, no doubt, is
sufficiently nauseous to be not inaptly compared to flogging, or any
other punitive discipline: but nauseous drugs are not the only means of
cure; good nursing, vigilant attendance, sometimes generous diet, have a
large share in the curative process. And in the hospital of the mind,
the lenitive and fostering measures have a still larger share in the
work of a moral restoration. Were this principle of cure, of perfect
restoration, to be adopted as the first principle of penal legislation,
it would come to this, that a poor man would have no better way of
recommending himself to the fatherly care of the state than by the
commission of a crime, and that none, in the lower classes of society,
would be so well trained and disciplined for advancing their fortunes in
the world, as those who commenced their career by violating the laws of
their country.
Imprisonment, with its various accompaniments and modifications, is the
great reformatory punishment. Indeed, with the exception of
death--confined almost entirely to the case of murder--it is the only
punishment bestowed on serious offences. Imprisonment of some kind,
either at home or in the colonies, is the penal safeguard of society;
and we must be cautious that we do not so far diminish its terrors, that
it should cease to hold out any threat to a needy malefactor. But before
we allude to the discipline of the prison, we must take a glance at this
great exception of death, which it is the object of many of our zealous
reformers entirely to erase from the penal code.
That this extreme punishment should be reserved for the extreme crime of
murder, seems generally admitted; and the practice, if not the letter,
of our law has conformed to this opinion. It would be useless,
therefore, to argue on the propriety of inflicting this penalty on other
and less enormous offences. The question is narrowed to this--shall
death continue to be the punishment of the murderer?
Those who contend for the entire abolition of this punishment, are in
the habit of enlarging much on the inadequate effect produced upon the
multitude who witness the spectacle of an execution. This is their
favourite and most frequent theme. They seem to overlook the much more
powerful effect produced on the imagination of that far greater
multitude who never behold, or are likely to behold, an execution. It is
curious to observe how pertinaciously a certain class of reasoners will
dwell on the picture which a crowd presents at a public execution;--much
like a crowd, we may be sure, at any other public spectacle. Whatever
the object which gathers together a mob of the lowest class, they will
soon begin to relieve the tedium of expectation by coarse jests,
drunkenness, and brawling. Yet these descriptive logicians are never
weary of painting to us the grotesque and disgusting scenes which the
mass of spectators exhibit on these occasions, as if this were quite
decisive of the question. That ragged children, who have never thought
of death at all, play their usual pranks at the foot of the
gallows--that pickpockets ply their trade in this as in every other
gaping crowd--what has all this to do with the impression produced on
the mind of every man and woman throughout the kingdom, by the knowledge
that if he, through sudden passion, or the instigations of cupidity,
take the life of a fellow-creature, he shall be--not a spectator at such
an exhibition--but that solitary crawling wretch who, after having spent
his days and nights in agony and fear, is thrust forward, bound and
pinioned, to be hanged up there like a dog before the scoffing or
yelling multitude?
We willingly concede that a public execution is not an edifying
spectacle. The coarse minds who can endure, and who court it, are the
last to whom such a spectacle should be presented. And, although the
punishment might lose some portion of its terrors, we should prefer that
the execution should take place in a more private manner; in the
court-yard, for instance, of the prison, and before a selected number of
witnesses, partly consisting of official persons, as the sheriffs and
magistrates, and partly of a certain number of persons who might be
taken from the several jury lists--the option being given to them either
to accept or decline this melancholy office. This would be a sufficient
publicity to ensure an impartial administration of the laws. The only
doubt that remains is, whether it would be sufficient to prevent the
spread of false rumours, and absurd suspicions, amongst the people. It
is a prevailing tendency with the mob, whenever any one at all above
their own condition is executed, to believe that he has been favoured
and allowed to escape. Even in the face of the most public execution,
such rumours are circulated. We understand that Mr Tawell is confidently
reported to be living at this moment in America. Such suspicions,
however ridiculous and absurd, must be cautiously guarded against.
After all, the mode of execution is but of secondary importance; arrange
it how you will, it is a lamentable business. Like all other
punishments, and still more than all other punishments, the actual
infliction of it is an evil to society. When the law passes from the
threat to the execution, it is a social disaster. The main point is,
that we present to the imagination of every man a great threat--that of
almost immediate extermination--if he lift his hand against his
neighbour's life.
That which renders the punishment of death peculiarly appropriate, in
our estimation, in the crime of murder, is not by any means its
retaliative character; the sentiment, that "blood must have blood," is
one which we have no desire to foster; and if some less grievous penalty
would have the same effect in deterring from the crime, we should, of
course, willingly adopt it. Our ground of approval is this, that it
presents to the mind an antagonist idea most fit to encounter the
temptation to the crime. As this temptation must generally be great, and
often sudden, that antagonist idea should be something capable of
seizing upon the apprehension at once--of exercising at once all its
restraining efficacy. Imprisonment for length of years--the mind must
calculate and sum up the long list of pains and penalties included in
this threat, before its full import is perceived. But death! And then
the after-death! For what makes the punishment of death so singularly
applicable to the case of murder is this, that it awakens whatever may
exist of religious terror in the mind of him who contemplates the crime.
On the one hand, he is about to commit a deed on which there are not two
opinions; it is not a crime made such by the laws; it is not even a
robbery, for which he may frame excuses out of his destitution, and the
harsh distinctions of society; it is murder, which heaven and earth,
rich and poor, equally denounce. On the other hand, his guilt will bring
him almost immediately before the tribunal of God, as well as the
judgment-seat of man. No long interval weakens the impression, no long
space holds out the vague prospect of repentance and amendment, and
compensatory acts of goodness; but if he will lift the knife, if he
will mingle the poison, there is the earthly executioner at hand to
transfer him to the still more dreadful sentence of the after-world! The
same opinion which condemns the crime of murder here on earth, as the
most atrocious that can be committed, follows him to that other
tribunal; and all that his imagination has been accustomed to depict of
the horrors of internal and eternal punishment, rushes at once upon him.
When the temptation comes in the shape of sudden anger and impetuous
passion, there is a threat as sudden to encounter it. When the crime is
revolved in the secret and guilty recesses of the mind--as when some
individual stands between the tempted man and the possession of a
fortune, or some other great object of desire--there is religious terror
as stealthy, as secret, as unconquerable, as the strongest desire that
takes possession of the human heart, to assist always at his
deliberations.
M. Zschokke's little treatise, to which we have alluded, contains the
usual, together with some unusual, arguments against | 162.756703 | 688 |
2023-11-16 18:18:29.7101000 | 1,068 | 664 |
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 | 163.02951 | 689 |
2023-11-16 18:18:30.2412200 | 1,042 | 472 |
Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
_PENELOPE_
_THE PLAYS OF
WILLIAM SOMERSET MAUGHAM_
Uniformly bound cloth, 2s 6d; paper covers, 1s 6d each
_LADY FREDERICK_
_JACK STRAW_
_A MAN OF HONOUR_
_MRS. DOT_
_THE EXPLORER_
_NOVELS BY THE SAME AUTHOR_
Price 6s each
_THE EXPLORER_
_THE MAGICIAN_
_THE MERRY-GO-ROUND_
_MRS. CRADDOCK_
_LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN_
_PENELOPE_
_A COMEDY_
_In Three Acts_
_BY W. S. MAUGHAM_
_LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN_
_MCMXII_
_Copyright 1912_
This play, originally called _Man and Wife_, was produced at the Comedy
Theatre on Saturday, January 9, 1909, with the following cast:
DR. O’FARRELL W. GRAHAM BROWNE
PROFESSOR GOLIGHTLY ALFRED BISHOP
DAVENPORT BARLOW ERIC LEWIS
MR. BEADSWORTH HERBERT ROSS
MR. ANDERSON J. H. BREWER
MRS. FERGUSSON NORMA WHALLEY
MRS. GOLIGHTLY KATE BISHOP
MRS. WATSON MRS. CHARLES CALVERT
PEYTON E. ARTHUR JONES
PENELOPE MARIE TEMPEST
_CHARACTERS_
PENELOPE
DR. O’FARRELL
PROFESSOR GOLIGHTLY
MRS. GOLIGHTLY
MR. DAVENPORT BARLOW
MRS. FERGUSSON
MR. BEADSWORTH
MRS. WATSON
A PATIENT
PEYTON
SCENE: _Dr. O’Farrell’s house in John Street, Mayfair_
TIME: _The Present Day_
_The Performing Rights of this play are fully protected, and permission
to perform it, whether by Amateurs or Professionals, must be obtained in
advance from the author’s Sole Agent, R. Golding Bright, 20 Green
Street, Leicester Square, London, W.C., from whom all particulars can be
obtained._
PENELOPE
THE FIRST ACT
SCENE: _A drawing-room in_ O’FARRELL’S _house in John Street. It is
very prettily but not extravagantly furnished. The_ O’FARRELLS _are
a young married couple of modest income_.
_It is between six and seven in the evening._
PEYTON, _a neat parlour-maid, opens the door and shows in_ MR.
DAVENPORT BARLOW.
BARLOW _is a short, self-important person of middle age. He is very
bald, red in the face, and wears a small, neatly curled moustache;
he is dressed in the height of fashion. His manner is fussy and
pompous. He comes forward as though he expected to find some one in
the room. Seeing that it is empty, he stops and looks at_ PEYTON.
_He cannot make out why there is no one to receive him._
BARLOW.
[_In a tone of surprise._] Is Mrs. O’Farrell not here?
PEYTON.
No, sir.
BARLOW.
H’m.... Will you let her know I’ve come?
PEYTON.
Mrs. O’Farrell is not at home, sir.
BARLOW.
Not at home?... But....
PEYTON.
Mrs. O’Farrell said, would you kindly sit down and make yourself
comfortable? And I was to give you the _Morning Post_.
BARLOW.
[_Pompously._] I can’t imagine why Mrs. O’Farrell should think I haven’t
read the _Morning Post_ at six o’clock in the evening.
PEYTON.
[_Imperturbably._] And Mrs. O’Farrell said, will you have a whisky and
soda, sir?
BARLOW.
But when is Mrs. O’Farrell coming in?
PEYTON.
I don’t know at all, | 163.56063 | 690 |
2023-11-16 18:18:30.2564630 | 417 | 92 |
Produced by Jeannie Howse and Friend, 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 LAST CRUISE OF THE SAGINAW
[Illustration: LIEUTENANT-COMMANDER MONTGOMERY SICARD]
THE LAST CRUISE OF
THE SAGINAW
BY
GEORGE H. READ
PAY INSPECTOR, U.S.N. (RETIRED)
_With Illustrations from Sketches by Lieutenant
Commander (afterwards Rear-Admiral)
Sicard and from Contemporary
Photographs_
[Illustration]
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
The Riverside Press Cambridge
1912
COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY GEORGE H. READ
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
_Published February 1912_
ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY COPIES OF
THIS FIRST EDITION PRINTED AND
BOUND UNCUT WITH PAPER LABEL
THIS BOOK
IS DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF THE NOBLE
MEN WHO LOST THEIR LIVES IN THE
EFFORT TO OBTAIN RELIEF FOR
THEIR SHIPWRECKED
COMRADES
PREFACE
Dear Mr. Read:--
I am greatly obliged to you for letting me read your deeply
interesting account of the wreck of the poor Saginaw and the loss of
Lieutenant Talbot. With General Cutter's approval I shall take the
manuscript with me to Boston, but I will return it carefully.
I leave the two photographs, but I have the curious drawing and
newspaper scraps, which I will safely return.
Very truly yours,
EDWARD E. HALE.
Dec | 163.575873 | 691 |
2023-11-16 18:18:30.4376460 | 409 | 146 |
Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreaders at
http://www.fadedpage.net
[Illustration: With eye and ear alert the man paddles silently on. (_See
page 105._)]
_THE STORY OF THE WEST SERIES_
_EDITED BY RIPLEY HITCHCOCK_
THE STORY OF THE TRAPPER
* * * * *
The Story of the West Series.
EDITED BY RIPLEY HITCHCOCK.
Each Illustrated, 12mo, Cloth.
+The Story of the Railroad.+
By CY WARMAN, Author of "The Express Messenger." $1.50.
+The Story of the Cowboy.+
By E. HOUGH. Illustrated by William L. Wells and C. M. Russell. $1.50.
+The Story of the Mine.+
Illustrated by the Great Comstock Lode of Nevada.
By CHARLES HOWARD SHINN. $1.50.
+The Story of the Indian.+
By GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL, Author of "Pawnee Hero Stories," "Blackfoot
Lodge Tales," etc. $1.50.
+The Story of the Soldier.+
By Brevet Brigadier-General GEORGE A. FORSYTH, U. S. A. (retired).
Illustrated by R. F. Zogbaum. $1.50.
+The Story of the Trapper.+
By A. C. LAUT, Author of "Heralds of Empire." Illustrated by Hemment.
$1.25 net; postage, 12 cents additional.
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
* * * * *
THE STORY
OF THE TRAPPER
BY
A. C. LAUT
AUTHOR OF HERALDS OF EMPIRE
AND LORDS OF THE NORTH
_ILLUSTRATED BY ARTHUR H | 163.757056 | 692 |
2023-11-16 18:18:30.4574440 | 1,002 | 373 |
Produced by Joshua Hutchinson, KarenD and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by Cornell University Digital Collections)
Vol. XXXV. No. 12.
THE
AMERICAN MISSIONARY.
* * * * *
“To the Poor the Gospel is Preached.”
* * * * *
DECEMBER, 1881.
_CONTENTS_:
EDITORIAL.
PARAGRAPHS 353
FINANCIAL—APPEALING FACTS 354
ABSTRACT OF PROCEEDINGS AT THE ANNUAL MEETING 355
GENERAL SURVEY 357
SUMMARY OF TREASURER’S REPORT 367
ADDRESS OF SENATOR GEO. F. HOAR 369
EXTRACTS OF ADDRESSES RELATING TO GENERAL WORK 373
THE FREEDMEN.
REPORT OF COMMITTEE ON EDUCATIONAL WORK 382
ADDRESS OF REV. C. T. COLLINS 383
ADDRESS OF REV. J. R. THURSTON 386
CHRISTIAN EDUCATION: PROF. CYRUS NORTHROP 388
HIGHER EDUCATION: PRES. E. A. WARE 390
REPORT OF COMMITTEE ON CHURCH WORK 392
ADDRESS OF PRES. CYRUS HAMLIN 393
AFRICA.
REPORT ON FOREIGN WORK 395
ADDRESS OF REV. J. W. HARDING 397
ADDRESS OF REV. GEO. S. DICKERMAN 398
THE UPPER NILE BASIN: COL. H. G. PROUT 398
THE INDIANS.
REPORT OF THE COMMITTEE 403
ADDRESS OF GEN. S. C. ARMSTRONG 403
ADDRESS OF CAPT. R. H. PRATT 405
THE CHINESE.
REPORT OF THE COMMITTEE 406
THE CHINESE TO EVANGELIZE CHINA: REV. C. H. POPE 408
REPORT OF COMMITTEE ON FINANCE 408
ADDRESS OF REV. GEO. F. STANTON 409
VOTE OF THANKS AND REPLY 410
ECHOES OF THE ANNUAL MEETING 411
RECEIPTS 412
CONSTITUTION 416
* * * * *
NEW YORK:
Published by the American Missionary Association,
ROOMS, 56 READE STREET.
* * * * *
Price, 50 Cents a Year, in advance.
Entered at the Post Office at New York, N.Y., as second-class matter.
* * * * *
American Missionary Association,
56 READE STREET, N.Y.
* * * * *
PRESIDENT.
HON. WM. B. WASHBURN, Mass.
VICE-PRESIDENTS.
Hon. E. S. TOBEY, Mass.
Hon. F. D. PARISH, Ohio.
Hon. E. D. HOLTON, Wis.
Hon. WILLIAM CLAFLIN, Mass.
Rev. STEPHEN THURSTON, D.D., Me.
Rev. SAMUEL HARRIS, D.D., Ct.
WM. C. CHAPIN, Esq., R.I.
Rev. W. T. EUSTIS, D.D., Mass.
Hon. A. C. BARSTOW, R.I.
Rev. THATCHER THAYER, D.D., R.I.
Rev. RAY PALMER, D.D., N.J.
Rev. EDWARD BEECHER, D.D., N.Y.
Rev. J. M. STURTEVANT, D.D., Ill.
Rev. W. W. PATTON, D.D., D.C.
Hon. SEYMOUR STRAIGHT, La.
Rev. CYRUS W. WALLACE, D.D., N.H.
Rev. EDWARD HAWES, D.D., Ct.
DOUGLAS PUTNAM, Esq., Ohio.
Hon. THADDEUS FAIRBANKS, Vt.
Rev. M. M. G. DANA, D.D., Minn.
Rev. H. W. BEECHER, N.Y.
Gen. | 163.776854 | 693 |
2023-11-16 18:18:30.9367640 | 942 | 104 |
Produced by Tor Martin Kristiansen, Matthew Wheaton, Michael
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net
[Illustration: "The hunt became a mad break-neck scramble across the
rocky plain." [PAGE 143]]
WHITE OTTER
BY
ELMER RUSSELL GREGOR
AUTHOR OF "CAMPING ON WESTERN TRAILS," "THE RED ARROW," ETC.
FRONTISPIECE BY
D. C. HUTCHISON
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
NEW YORK LONDON
1924
By ELMER R. GREGOR
JIM MASON, BACKWOODSMAN
JIM MASON, SCOUT
_Western Indian Series...._
WHITE OTTER
THE WAR TRAIL
THREE SIOUX SCOUTS
_Eastern Indian Series_
SPOTTED DEER
RUNNING FOX
THE WHITE WOLF
COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
Printed in the United States of America
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. RIDERS OF THE NIGHT 1
II. THE WAR PARTY 14
III. TRAILING THE ENEMY 31
IV. A PERILOUS ADVENTURE 50
V. A SURPRISE 66
VI. A FIGHT IN THE DARK 85
VII. THE MINNECONJOUX CAMP 97
VIII. VISITORS FROM THE NORTH 114
IX. THE GREAT BUFFALO DRIVE 137
X. AN ADVENTURE AMONG THE PEAKS 156
XI. A CALL TO WAR 177
XII. A NIGHT OF UNCERTAINTY 189
XIII. RACING TO THE RESCUE 212
XIV. THE PLIGHT OF THE OGALALAS 222
XV. WHITE OTTER'S BOLD RESOLVE 241
XVI. A BAFFLING TRAIL 253
XVII. A PEEP INTO THE PAWNEE CAMP 267
XVIII. A DARING ATTEMPT 278
XIX. A SPLENDID VICTORY 292
XX. THE CROWN OF EAGLE PLUMES 305
WHITE OTTER
CHAPTER I
RIDERS OF THE NIGHT
It was the time of the new-grass moon. The long cold winter had finally
passed, and the season of abundance was at hand. The Sioux gave thanks
to the Great Mystery with song and dance. They knew that vast herds of
buffaloes would soon appear from the south, and then every want would be
supplied. The hunters were already making plans for the great buffalo
drive which would provide the camp with meat for many days.
It was at this season that White Otter, the grandson of Wolf Robe, the
famous Ogalala war chief, had planned to visit the Minneconjoux camp to
see his friends, Sun Bird and his brother Little Raven. The three young
warriors had shared many perilous adventures the previous year, when
White Otter won fame by recovering the Red Arrow, a Sioux medicine
trophy which had been stolen by the Pawnees, and Sun Bird rescued his
brother from captivity. At that time the lads pledged themselves to an
undying friendship, and Sun Bird and Little Raven accompanied White
Otter to the Ogalala village. When they departed White Otter gave each
two splendid ponies, and promised to visit them the following spring.
Now the time was at hand and he was eager to go.
When Wolf Robe learned White Otter's intention he said: "It is good; the
Minneconjoux are our brothers. Curly Horse, their chief, is a great man.
You will see many brave warriors in that camp. Sun Bird and Little Raven
are your friends. They will tell their people about you. Go and tell the
Minneconjoux that Wolf Robe is thinking about them."
Two days later White Otter set out upon his journey. As he was anxious
to | 164.256174 | 694 |
2023-11-16 18:18:31.1528320 | 983 | 414 | Project Gutenberg Etext of The Power of Concentration, by Dumont
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.
Project Gutenberg surfs with a modem donated by Supra.
The Power of Concentration
by Theron Q. Dumont
December, 1998 [Etext #1570]
Project Gutenberg Etext of The Power of Concentration, by Dumont
******This file should be named 1570.txt or 1570.zip******
Scanned by Charles Keller with OmniPage Professional OCR software
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 do NOT keep these books
in compliance with any particular paper edition, usually otherwise.
We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance
of the official release dates, for 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
fifty hours is one conservative estimate for how long it we take
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-two text
files per month, or 384 more Etexts in 1998 for a total of 1500+
If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the
total should reach over 150 billion Etexts given away.
The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext
Files by the December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000=Trillion]
This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
which is only 10% of the present number of computer users. 2001
should have at least twice as many computer users as that, so it
will require us reaching less than 5% of the users in 2001.
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]>
We would prefer to send you this information by email
(Internet, Bitnet, Compuserve, ATTMAIL or MCImail).
******
If you have an FTP program (or emulator), please
FTP directly to the Project Gutenberg archives:
[Mac users, do NOT point and click...type]
ftp uiarchive.cso.uiuc.edu
login: anonymous
password: your@login
cd etext/etext90 through /etext96
or cd etext/articles [get suggest gut for more information]
dir [to see files]
get or mget [to get files...set bin for zip files]
GET INDEX?00.G | 164.472242 | 695 |
2023-11-16 18:18:31.2597480 | 4,088 | 67 | The Project Gutenberg Etext of Conscience by Hector Malot, v2
#74 in our series The French Immortals Crowned by the French Academy
#2 in our series by Hector Malot
Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check
the laws for your country before redistributing 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.
Please do not remove this.
This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book.
Do not change or edit it without written permission. The words
are carefully chosen to provide users with the information they
need about what they can legally do with the texts.
**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
*****These Etexts Are Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and
further information is included below, including for donations.
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a 501(c)(3)
organization with EIN [Employee Identification Number] 64-6221541
Title: Conscience, v2
Author: Hector Malot
Release Date: April, 2003 [Etext #3987]
[Yes, we are about one year ahead of schedule]
[The actual date this file first posted = 09/28/01]
Edition: 10
Language: English
The Project Gutenberg Etext of Conscience by Hector Malot, v2
****This file should be named 3987.txt or 3987.zip*****
This etext was produced by David Widger <[email protected]>
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 year in advance
of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
Please be encouraged to send us error messages even years after
the official publication date.
Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til
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.
Most people start at our sites at:
http://gutenberg.net
http://promo.net/pg
Those of you who want to download any Etext before announcement
can surf to them as follows, and just download by date; this is
also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.
http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03
or
ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03
Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90
Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
as it appears in our Newsletters.
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 fifty new Etext
files per month, or 500 more Etexts in 2000 for a total of 3000+
If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total
should reach over 300 billion Etexts given away by year's end.
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 about 4% 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 4,000 Etexts unless we
manage to get some real funding.
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created
to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.
We need your donations more than ever!
As of July 12, 2001 contributions are only being solicited from people in:
Arkansas, Colorado, Connecticut, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Idaho,
Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, Minnesota,
Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, New Mexico, Nevada, New Jersey, New York, North
Carolina, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South Dakota,
Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West Virginia,
Wisconsin, and Wyoming.
We have filed in about 45 states now, but these are the only ones
that have responded.
As the requirements for other states are met,
additions to this list will be made and fund raising
will begin in the additional states. Please feel
free to ask to check the status of your state.
In answer to various questions we have received on this:
We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork
to legally request donations in all 50 states. If
your state is not listed and you would like to know
if we have added it since the list you have, just ask.
While we cannot solicit donations from people in
states where we are not yet registered, we know
of no prohibition against accepting donations
from donors in these states who approach us with
an offer to donate.
International donations are accepted,
but we don't know ANYTHING about how
to make them tax-deductible, or
even if they CAN be made deductible,
and don't have the staff to handle it
even if there are ways.
All donations should be made to:
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
PMB 113
1739 University Ave.
Oxford, MS 38655-4109
The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a 501(c)(3)
organization with EIN [Employee Identification Number] 64-6221541,
and has been approved as a 501(c)(3) organization by the US Internal
Revenue Service (IRS). Donations are tax-deductible to the maximum
extent permitted by law. As the requirements for other states are met,
additions to this list will be made and fund raising will begin in the
additional states.
We need your donations more than ever!
You can get up to date donation information at:
http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html
***
If you can't reach Project Gutenberg,
you can always email directly to:
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....
Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message.
We would prefer to send you information by email.
***
Example command-line FTP session:
ftp ftp.ibiblio.org
login: anonymous
password: your@login
cd pub/docs/books/gutenberg
cd etext90 through etext99 or etext00 through etext02, etc.
dir [to see files]
get or mget [to get files...set bin for zip files]
GET GUTINDEX.?? [to get a year's listing of books, e.g., GUTINDEX.99]
GET GUTINDEX.ALL [to get a listing of ALL books]
**The Legal Small Print**
(Three Pages)
***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START***
Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers.
They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from
someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how
you may distribute copies of this etext if you want to.
*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT
By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive
a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by
sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical
medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS
This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etexts,
is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart
through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project").
Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
distribute it in the United States without permission and
without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth
below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext
under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market
any commercial products without permission.
To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable
efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any
medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other
things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer
codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may
receive this etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims
all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of
receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
time to the person you received it from. If you received it
on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
copy. If you received it electronically, such person may
choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
receive it electronically.
THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
may have other legal rights.
INDEMNITY
You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation,
and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated
with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including
legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the
following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this etext,
[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the etext,
or [3] any Defect.
DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by
disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
or:
[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this
requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however,
if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable
binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
including any form resulting from conversion by word
processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
*EITHER*:
[*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
does *not* contain characters other than those
intended by the author of the work, although tilde
(~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
be used to convey punctuation intended by the
author, and additional characters may be used to
indicate hypertext links; OR
[*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at
no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
form by the program that displays the etext (as is
the case, for instance, with most word processors);
OR
[*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
or other equivalent proprietary form).
[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this
"Small Print!" statement.
[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you
don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are
payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation"
the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to
let us know your plans and to work out the details.
WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of
public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
in machine readable form.
The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
Money should be paid to the:
"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or
software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:
[email protected]
[Portions of this header are copyright (C) 2001 by Michael S. Hart
and may be reprinted only when these Etexts are free of all fees.]
[Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales
of Project Gutenberg Etexts or other materials be they hardware or
software or any other related product without express permission.]
*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.07/27/01*END*
This etext was produced by David Widger <[email protected]>
[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of the
file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an
entire meal of them. D.W.]
CONSCIENCE
By HECTOR MALOT
BOOK 2.
CHAPTER XI
THE INSTRUMENT OF DEATH
When, after two hours' sleep, Saniel woke, he did not at first think of
this knife; he was tired and dull. Mechanically he walked about his room
without paying attention to what he was doing, as if he were in a state
of somnambulism, and it astonished him, because he never felt weariness
of mind any more than of body, no matter how little he had slept, nor how
hard he had worked.
But suddenly, catching a glimpse of the knife that he had placed on the
mantel, he received a shock that annihilated his torpor and his fatigue.
It dazzled him like a flash of lightning.
He took it, and, going to the window, he examined it by the pale light of
early morning. It was a strong instrument that, in a firm hand, would be
a terrible arm; newly sharpened, it had the edge of a razor.
Then the idea, the vision that had come to him two hours before, came
back to him, clear and complete at nightfall, that is, at the moment when
the concierge was in the second wing of the building, he mounted to
Caffie's apartment without being seen, and with this knife he cut his
throat. It was as simple as it was easy, and this knife left beside the
corpse, and the nature of the wound, would lead the police to look for
a butcher, or at least a man who was in thehabit of using a knife of this
kind.
The evening before, when he had discussed Caffie's death, the how and the
when still remained vague and uncertain. But now the day and the means
were definitely settled: it should be with this knife, and this evening.
This shook him out of his torpor and made him shudder.
He was angry with himself for this weakness. Did he know or did he not
know what he wished? Was he irresolute or cowardly?
Then, going from one idea to another, he thought of an observation that
he had made, which appeared to prove that with many subjects there is
less firmness in the morning than in the evening. Was this the result of
dualism of the nervous centres, and was the human personality double like
the brain? Were there hours when the right hemisphere is master of our
will, and were there other hours when the left is master? Did one of
these hemispheres possess what the other lacked, and is it according to
the activity of this or that one, that one has such a character or such a
temperament? This | 164.579158 | 696 |
2023-11-16 18:18:31.3436920 | 1,113 | 1,000 |
Produced by Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
A Girl of Virginia
[Illustration: "He had stepped from his own room far up the corridor."]
A Girl of Virginia
BY
LUCY M. THRUSTON
Author of "Mistress Brent"
_With a Frontispiece by Ch. Grunwald_
Boston
Little, Brown, and Company
_Copyright, 1902_,
BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.
_All rights reserved_
Printers
S. J. PARKHILL & CO., BOSTON, U. S. A.
_To_
GOVERNOR MONTAGUE, OF VIRGINIA
_A former Student of the University_
A Girl of Virginia
I
"Good morning!" The voice was cheery, insistent. It brought the young
girl on the porch above to the white wooden rail about its edge.
"Good morning!" she called back lightly.
"Beautiful day!" persisted the young man saying inanely the first words
he could think of for the sole purpose of keeping her there in sight.
"Lovely!" cried the girl enthusiastically, leaning a little further over
the rail. A vine, which had climbed the round pillar and twined its
tendrils about the porch's edge, set waving by the slight motion, sent a
shower of scarlet leaves about the young man below; one fluttered upon
his breast, he caught it and held it over his heart as if it were a
message from her to him; and then he fastened it in his button-hole.
The young woman laughed carelessly as he did so; she was too used to
students to exaggerate the meaning of their words or deeds, and there
was no answering flash in her gray eyes as she looked down on him.
"Don't you think it too fine to stay indoors?"
"I'm not in," answered the girl turning her head to look up at the blue
arch of the sky overhead.
"Oh, well"--the young fellow bit his lip, and flushed hotly,--"you know
it's--Come, take a walk across the quadrangle," he added boldly.
"There's no one around."
Frances leaned further for a survey of campus and corridor. "All right!"
she cried, and he could hear her footsteps as she ran down the polished
stair in the big old house. When she opened the great hall door she was
charmingly demure. "Glad to see you Mr. Lawson!" she exclaimed
mischievously to the young man, who stood hat in hand by the wide step.
"Delighted, I'm sure!" he flashed back, holding the hand she extended as
long as he dared,--so long that the young woman had drawn herself up
quite straight and was looking gravely along the corridor when he
released it.
"You haven't mailed your letter!" she said looking at the missive he
still held.
"Oh! and I came--"
"There's the box, don't forget it!"
"Which way are you going?"
"Up to the Rotunda, of course."
"See how it commands everything else," said Frances, pausing at the
sunken, well-worn steps in the terraced corridor to look about her. The
morning shadows of the maples on the quadrangle stretched to the brick
pavement at their feet, scarlet and yellow leaves, blown across the
green grass, rustled about them; the picturesque buildings on the other
side the campus loomed in deep shadowings, for the sun was yet behind
them. A late student slammed his door and went hurrying down the
corridor, his footsteps echoing along the way.
"It is beautiful!" said Frances softly, as she went up the few steps.
"Beautiful, yes, and you don't appreciate it half as much--"
"Appreciate it!"
"Don't you hear the men raving over it everywhere? Those from a good
long distance especially--Oregon, for instance, that's my state you
know; but you Virginians--"
"Are not given to boasting!" said the girl proudly.
"There you are! You are"--"a queer lot," he was about to say, but
remembered himself in time. "You are--" he blundered; "one scarce knows
how to take you."
"Don't take us!" said the girl quietly.
"Now, Miss Holloway," deprecated the young man, "you see, the things
other people think you would be proudest of, you don't care for at all,
and the things other people don't care for--"
"Perhaps there are some people who don't talk about the things they care
for most. Perhaps," she went on, her flushing cheek and darkening eye
belying her light tone, "that's a secret you haven't found out, and it
may be the reason you don't know how to take us," she repeated.
"I'm not going to quarrel about it a morning like this," declared the
young man as they went up the wide steps to the Rotunda and along the
marble floor of the east wing which roofed | 164.663102 | 697 |
2023-11-16 18:18:31.4200400 | 203 | 217 |
Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
Volume 1, Chapter I.
DUPLEX STREET.
"Some people are such fools!" said Richard Pellet; and, if public
judgment was right, he knew what a fool was as well as any man in the
great city of London. He was a big man was Richard Pellet, Esq., C.C.,
shipper, of Austin Friars, and known among city men as "the
six-hundred-pounder;" and he knew a fool when he saw one. But whether
at his office in the city, or down at his place at Norwood,--"his little
place at Norwood," where he had "a morsel of garden" and "a bit of
glass," and grew pine and melon, peach and grape, and had a fat butler
in black, and a staff of servants in drab, trimmed with yellow
coach-lace,-- | 164.73945 | 698 |
2023-11-16 18:18:31.5039310 | 435 | 83 |
Produced by Jane Robins, Malcolm Farmer and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOLUME 93, OCTOBER 15, 1887.
_edited by Sir Francis Burnand._
'ARRY ON OCHRE.
[Illustration]
DEAR CHARLIE,
Hoctober, my 'arty, and 'ARRY, wus luck!'s back in town,
Where it's all gitting messy and misty; the boollyvard trees is all
brown,
Them as ain't gone as yaller as mustard. I _do_ 'ate the Autumn,
dear boy,
When a feller 'as spent his last quid, and there's nothink to do or
enjoy.
Cut it spicy, old man, by the briny, I did, and no error. That Loo
Was a rattler to keep up the pace whilst a bloke 'ad a brown left to
blue.
Cleared me out a rare bat, I can tell yer; no Savings Bank lay about
_her_.
Yah!--Women is precious like cats, ony jest while you strokes 'em they
purr.
Lor', to think wot a butterfly beauty I was when I started, old pal!
Natty cane, and a weed like a hoop-stick, and now!--oh, well, jigger
that gal!
Cut me slap in the Strand ony yesterday, CHARLIE, so 'elp me,
she did.
Well, of sech a false baggage as Loo is, yours truly is jolly well rid.
Wot a thing this yer Ochre is, CHARLIE! The yaller god rules
us all round.
Parsons patter of poverty's pleasures! I tell yer they ain't to be
found.
If you 'aven't the ha'pence you're nothink; bang | 164.823341 | 699 |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.